Gram's 88th Party

The first pic is of all the grandkids with Gram.
Robert, Erica, Me, Jennifer, Phyllis, and of course, the birthday girl!




The next pic is me in the middle of "the kids", Phyllis, Jennifer, Erica, & Robert. They are so awesome, each of them is so different.






This is my uncle (top left), dad (top right), Gram (bottom left), Sissy (bottom right)

Today was my Gram’s 88^th B-day party, her actual B-day was the 19^th. She doesn’t get around very well anymore, she has oxygen, she’s not always very nice, and she’s a little kooky.
When I am with my dad’s side of the family, I always feel like I don’t fit in. I am very different than “the adults” and I have one of “the kids”, I am the generation lost somewhere in the middle. I have responsibility, I am always making something or doing something but I have no say in anything. But I can say that they now do gatherings on Saturdays instead of Sundays because I won’t come if it interferes with church – well, they get one “Sunday” a year (thanks Sara).
Those kids are lucky, “the adults” learned from their mistakes with me, so “the kids” are better off for it. There are a lot of things I am because no one listened, I FEEL like no one even asked me my opinion on anything, until I was much older and they don’t listen anyway. They ask my opinion and do what they want to anyway. I always wonder, what they heck (Pat – not the word I would use) did you ask me for, you never do it my way anyway. I was (though they will never admit it) a constant disappointment. I didn’t get the best of grades, I didn’t want to be a nurse (they even tried bribing me with buying me a car), single mom at 20, I do not work in civil service or as a nurse, I am loud, oh, let’s add that I am Baptist, they are all Catholic, and the list goes on and on… and they wonder why I have low self esteem.
I love my little cousins who are now 14, 13, & 12. I always try to be interested in them, hug them, and love on them. They are all different from me, but like the kids in YG, I learn a lot from them, I hope they know how much I love them.
I am glad that God doesn’t wait to be in our lives when we are ready, He walks with us our whole lives. I love my family, but one thing I wish (and the buck stopped here), I wish they would have told me Jesus loved me. I wish they would have not taught me rituals and memorized prayers, but I wish they would have told me what it means to have Him in my heart, told me what those prayers mean. I am not really God fearing, I am more afraid of disappointing Him, though I know God is all powerful, I know that I want to please Him more than I am afraid of His wrath, because God, He’s a loving God. My family loves me in their own kooky way, my dad is awesome, not perfect, but he’s a great dad. But I am so jealous of those people who were Christians their whole lives, who had the foundation of God, and all that He is. I know my path, I know how God uses me in amazing ways because of the life I’ve lead, and that somehow I will touch others because of His love.