I said goodbye to my grandmother today. I didn’t actually say the word, but I knew, as I was talking with her on the telephone, it would more than likely be the last time we spoke. My Grammy is ninety-five years old, and her body is failing her. As much as she would like to be able to get up and out of bed to walk down to get her mail, or bake a lemon pie, or walk on the treadmill, her body will no longer obey. 

I’m fifty-years-old, and I am very aware that I’m so blessed and extremely lucky to still have my grandmother in my life. I know many people my age lost their own grandparents long ago. I do feel lucky. I feel happy that I have been able to spend so much of my life with a woman who loved me, spoiled me, cooked for me, and played with me. I can honestly say I couldn’t have asked for a better grandmother. 

When I spoke with my Grammy, I told her that most of my very favorite and best childhood memories include her. She made me feel special and loved, even when I was being a disagreeable three-year-old, or a pouting, somewhat selfish teen. I told Grammy that she was the best grandmother and that I loved her. And I do. I love her. Which is why it’s so hard to say goodbye. 

I understand in my head that she’s old and frail now, and that maybe it is true that she will move onto a better place. Maybe she’ll follow a beautiful light that leads to a place in the clouds where she will get to see my aunt, her daughter, who sadly died before her. Maybe it’s possible she’ll pass through golden gates and my grandfather, Pappy, will greet her with a smile and a hug. He’ll hand her his eyeglasses, ask her to clean them, then request that she cook him a well done hamburger accompanied by a side salad with only mayonnaise as a dressing. Isn’t it possible she could finish cooking that hamburger, then turn around and greet all her brothers and sisters who left this world before she did? I can’t even imagine how happy she would be. 

I know she lived a good life. I realize that when she told me she doesn’t think she’ll make it until Christmas, it was her way of telling me it’s time for her to go, she’s ready, and everything will be okay. I believe there is an angel sitting next to Grammy, holding her hand, and who will be there when she finally takes her last breath. When I close my eyes, I can see that angel, her brilliant white wings sparkling in the light, as she guides my sweet, spunky, and exceptionally special Grammy to a place where she can be healthy and lively again. This is my hope. This is what my grandmother deserves. 

My grandmother has been a light in my life. She’s been all that is good and kind in the world. She has loved me all the time, even during the times when I wasn’t very lovable. There’s no other love like the love you get from a grandmother. It’s the most unconditional and pure love, and it’s one thing in life you can always count on to be there when you are searching for something you can’t quite find. It grounds you and makes you realize what is really important in life- having family members who love you, and loving them back. 

I have no idea how I will react or feel when my grandmother passes away. I want to be happy that she’s no longer in pain, no longer worried about being a burden, and no longer frustrated and upset she can’t do all the things she used to do. But my selfish side wonders how I am going to navigate the rest of my life knowing my beautiful Grammy is gone. I’m going to miss her and miss all of the special things we did together. Most of all I will miss the little things- how she would give you a good pat on the arm when she would greet you, her off-key, operatic singing, her bright, blue eyes, and her loyal and unwavering support. 

I don’t know how to say goodbye, I don’t want to, but I know it’s coming. I hope I’m strong enough to do it well and do it the way Grammy deserves. I wish I was there with her, but this isn’t the year to make another trip. 2020 has given us all too much, and taken away even more. I guess it’s only fitting that this will probably be the year that my grandmother goes to Heaven. I hope the rest of my friends and family up there now are all waiting at the gates to guide Grammy through and make her feel at home. 

Goodbye, my sweet Grammy. You will be so missed, and you are very loved. 

XO






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This morning a Facebook “friend” posted a very offensive picture of an ugly, crazed-looking woman, who was supposed to be a liberal, with some stupid quote about how liberals whine and cry and how we “unfriend” anyone who doesn’t agree with us on any issue. First of all, if that were true in my case, I’d have about two Facebook friends, not hundreds.

This person then went on to pontificate about how if liberals think something is wrong, then we need to back it up by doing something rather than complaining, posting things on Facebook (funny, like he was doing?), volunteering in our own neighborhoods, and making a difference.

Well, let me tell you right now, this liberal, and many others I know, ARE doing things to make this world a better place. We are out there in our communities and beyond volunteering, working, and fighting to do what is right for those who are less fortunate. And I’m sure there are many conservatives out there doing the very same thing.

Let me give you some idea about what this lazy, whining, crying, snowflake is doing and has done, and you can decide for yourself if all we do is sit around and cry about how we live in an unfair world, and do nothing to try to change the situation.

Each year, my family and I adopt one or more families for the holidays. We make sure that family (or families) have a full meal, extra groceries, gifts, necessities, bedding, pajamas, and more. We deliver their gifts prior to the holiday, and we make sure they have everything they want to make their special day just a little bit brighter.

Many weekends, my two sons volunteer their time at local homeless shelters serving food, taking care of children, planning parties, and playing games. They don’t ask to be somewhere else. They don’t go to parties instead of volunteering. They volunteer because they genuinely like the children and their mothers who live in these shelters, and/or the homeless veterans who reside in some of the others. They don’t do it every weekend, or even every other, so they are not saints. They are not perfect. But they are good-hearted kids who believe in making a difference. They care.

There are several kids who volunteer with my sons who do more than my kids do- they go above and beyond week after week helping those less fortunate and they love every minute of it. I have no idea whether these kids are from conservative or liberal families, and it doesn’t matter. All I know is they aren’t sitting around doing nothing. They are making a difference in the lives of those who need it most. And I’m damn proud of all of them, especially the kid who started the whole organization in the first place. Caleb White was six years old when he first saw a homeless man sleeping on the street. He was upset and decided then and there to start an organization to help others. You can’t force that. He was BORN to lead and he was raised to care about others. It’s just who he is. He is his mother’s son, because she’s the reason he is who he is.

My family and I donate a considerable amount of money to charities, our sons’ previous public schools, their now private school, and other causes that are important to us and to those who benefit from our giving. We are lucky. We realize it, and we want and choose to give back.

I’m not saying any of this to toot my own horn, because clearly, there is more I could do. I could volunteer more hours, give more money, and I could fight harder. I’m laying all this out there because I am sick and tired of people generalizing groups of people and judging others simply because of which political party he/she chooses to join, or which way that person chooses to vote. It goes both ways.

I don’t post pictures of supposed “conservatives” who only care about rich, white people and who believe that all immigrants are criminals. Because it isn’t true. I might have different opinions and ideas than my conservative friends, but I don’t believe all of them are the same, think the same, do the same, and I certainly do not put them all together in ONE big group and slam them all on social media because I think they aren’t doing, saying, or believing the “right” things.

Not long ago, a woman blasted me on Facebook for choosing to send my son to a private school rather than sending him to our local public high school. To make matters worse, she was an employee of one of the schools in the district, she called my husband “ignorant”, and she posted disparaging comments about the non-profit organization in which my sons volunteer and serve on the Board of Directors. She made a jab about how all of the Board Members are private school educated kids (they are not all privately educated, actually), and that it was a “conflict of interest” (which makes no sense, so I don’t think she actually knew what that term means).

I was offended and shocked, as I don’t think it’s anyone’s business where I choose to send my children for high school. I also think it’s horribly wrong that a grown woman would attack a bunch of kids who donate their time to help people in need. As much as I wanted to at the time, I didn’t tell the woman that the organization had a few previous Board Members who were children attending public schools, and they were the ones who all stopped participating for one reason or another. It didn’t have anything to do with whether or not they were public or private school educated. Many of them simply had full course schedules, some had to work, others were playing sports, playing in the school band- these kids are busy. They can’t do it all.

So her judgements about ALL of us were wrong. I was sad that my son saw her comments and couldn’t believe that this woman who was barely an acquaintance, had felt it necessary to attack his mother, his step-father, his dad, and the organization he cares about publicly simply because he wanted to attend a private school. He is a great kid, I know I’m biased, but he came to us when he was in eighth grade after doing research about schools in our area. He told us that he was 35% more likely to get into the college of his choice if he attended and did well at a certain private school. He told us he wanted smaller classrooms, to meet people from different places, different cultures, and he wanted a change. He asked for a chance to prove himself, and we decided to give it to him. We haven’t been disappointed, and he loves his new school. This fall, his brother will attend the same school, and I do not feel one bit of guilt over it. It’s my choice where to send my kids for school, and it doesn’t make me a better or worse person. I’m still me, and I’m not going to change.

My point is this- STOP judging others. Stop throwing us all into groups and assuming we all act the same, do the same things, feel the same, and do NOTHING to change things for the better. Do not post a picture of some disgusting looking woman and tell the world that this is all liberals- we cry, we whine, we name call and we do nothing to help the world. Just stop. And to my fellow liberals- you STOP, too. Everyone needs to grow up. Treat others as you would like to be treated. Give a positive example for your children and grandchildren to follow. Have a heart. Take care of yourself, your family, and take care of others.

I’m absolutely, completely, and unabashedly sick and tired of the mentality that so many people have that as long as they and theirs are doing well, then everyone else can be forgotten. That’s not okay. It’s not right. It’s NOT AMERICAN. We are made up of a country of people whose ancestors were born elsewhere and worked long and hard to get here to live the American Dream. I get that we need to protect our borders. I understand we can’t let everyone in, but arresting people seeking asylum (not illegal, by the way), and taking away their children is beyond reprehensible. There has to be another way to do it, and it is NOT this. There are children now spread out all over the country in shelters, toddlers, babies, who may never see their biological parent again. What a nightmare and a cluster of crap that SHOULD HAVE NEVER HAPPENED. Not here. Not in America.

Call me a socialist (I’m not). Argue that we don’t need to be that concerned about others, that it’s enough to take care of our own. That’s fine if that’s what you believe, but it’s not what I believe and I shouldn’t be called names or made fun of because I want to help take care of others. There’s nothing wrong with that. You go ahead and take care of yours, and I’ll do what I want to do for myself, my family, and anyone else who needs me to offer assistance.

If everyone would just take a few deep breaths and vow to treat each other with just a little bit more kindness, what a different world it could be. Find your heart and use it. We all need a little more love right now.

For more information about The Caleb White Project and how Caleb’s story began, visit www.tlandrygilder.com and check out the book, Everything Big Starts Somewhere Small. To learn more about the Caleb White Project, or to donate to this very worthy cause, visit www.calebwhiteproject.com.







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When I’m upset I find that writing helps. My family and I have recently suffered a tremendous loss. My ex-husband’s nephew, a man I had known since he was a very little boy, suddenly passed away just a few nights ago. My heart is broken. My children have lost one of their favorite cousins. We were all very close. I am still very close with my ex-husband’s family, and I make it an effort to be sure my boys spend a good amount of time with their dad and his big, wonderful, loving family.

I’m so lucky. I am lucky that my ex and I are on good terms, and we still raise our boys together despite living apart. I’m lucky my current husband is secure and strong enough to love my boys, to understand my need to remain close with my ex’s family, and to give my boys the space and time they need to have a relationship with their father.

Most of all, I am lucky to have known this boy I once knew as “Shane the Bird”, grow into a loving young man, who, despite his many struggles, has taught me the meaning of unconditional love, acceptance, and what it means to be a family.

​This is for you, Shane.

​Dear Shane,

I am walking around my house all morning with a roll of toilet paper in my hand. I can’t find any tissues. I’m pretty sure you would have thought that was funny.

Something happened to you last night. We don’t know yet what occurred, but we now know you are no longer here on earth. Our hearts are broken.

I met you for the first time when you were probably only three or four years old. Cute as can be, with dark brown eyes and hair, and an attitude that matched no other.

You weren’t like any other child I’d ever met. There was a sensitive vulnerability you possessed that wasn’t typical. You cared deeply for so many, for so much, from such a very young age.

You were smart, smarter than a lot of kids your own age. But you could be hurt so easily by words or by actions of others who didn’t seem to understand you.

I remember a day at Uncle Bob’s house. I had just recently begun dating your Uncle Mike, and I was outside with you and your cousins playing. I was pushing you on the swing. I pushed too hard, and you fell and hit your head on a large piece of wood under the swing set. You cried and I felt awful. Somehow you knew I felt horrible and embarrassed that I’d just hurt this little kid I hardly knew, so you made yourself stop crying and you told me repeatedly that you were okay. I know it hurt you, but you didn’t want me to feel bad, so you pretended the big lump on the back of your head was nothing.

You would sometimes spend the night with us, back when Mike and I were first married, before we had Grant and Luc. You were always “Christopher” to Uncle Mike. The two of you shared a special bond. You liked watching cartoons and playing games. As you got a bit older, Pokémon was your game of choice.

You were gentle to animals and babies. When I had Grant, you always had a way of making him laugh. You got down on the floor and played with him. When Grant was a toddler, you babysat for him while I worked from home. You pulled him around the neighborhood in a wagon and you did everything he wanted you to do. You barely flinched when he threw a toy at you when he got angry because you didn’t allow him to do something (dangerous, I’m sure).

When you became a teenager, and your troubles began, I didn’t know. I thought that of course you’d pull away a bit as a teen, as most teens do. When your Uncle Mike and I divorced, you still called me “Aunt Tammi”.

You still visited us. You still loved us. You still watched over Grant and Luc the best you could. The boys loved all your visits.

When times were very bad for you, you still loved us- you loved all your family. We all knew you weren’t perfect. None of us are. Despite your mistakes, we all loved you. Despite our mistakes, you still loved all of us.

When you fought your demons on a daily basis, we were in awe of you. None of us could imagine how hard it must have been for you to have to fight every single day. We were proud of you, Shane. We are STILL proud of you.

I don’t know what happened last night, and whatever it was, it really doesn’t matter. You are gone, and the world is a much sadder place without you in it. We’ll miss your smile, your jokes, your gentle hugs, and your sensitive soul.

I pray you are now never alone, always smiling, and at peace.

I will love you always.

Aunt Tammi

Dear Secretary Clinton,

I will be honest here- I have been crying for two days. I wanted you to win. I dreamed of watching you accept the title of Madam President on Inauguration Day. You need to know that you did everything you could have done to achieve that goal; there was nothing more you could have done.

Of course I do not know you personally, but I am so very PROUD of you. You have spent your entire life trying to fight for us- for ALL of us, never mind color, culture, race, creed, or sex. You have fought for us all, and we are so much greater for it.

You allowed my two young sons to see a woman, who is not unlike their own grandmother and mother, work hard, study, learn, grow, and achieve her goals all the while helping others to achieve theirs. I'm sick that our next President does not reflect the values and goals of my family. In fact, Donald Trump is the exact opposite of who I'm raising my sons to be, so this loss hurts.

I am sad. I am angry. Yesterday I wasn't sure if I could get out of my bed and move forward. But then there was you. You got yourself up and out of your bed. You showered, probably ate a little breakfast, did your hair, put on some makeup, and you rose above all of this negativity, hurt feelings and broken hearts and you stood in front of the entire world, after losing the fight of your life, and with the strength of one hundred elephants on stampede, you told us all to not give up.

You accepted defeat with calm and grace. You gave your support to our President-Elect, even after he disrespected you a million times, called you names, and disagrees with almost every value you hold dear.

You told every little girl watching, like my ten-year-old niece who burst into tears when she heard you had lost the election, that they all mattered. You let them know that their time would come, and that just because that glass ceiling may not have yet been broken, it has been severely cracked right down the middle.

You paved the way for us, Secretary Clinton. You allowed me to go to my local polling place on Tuesday, and for the first time in my forty-six years of life, mark that box to vote for our first woman President. Never before have I so lovingly and carefully filled in a tiny oval. I left the middle school gymnasium that day smiling and realizing that I had a small part in making history. You did that for me, and I'm so very grateful.

Yesterday, when my youngest son, who is twelve years old, asked me if he could call Donald Trump a "jerk", instead of telling him that, actually, I'd like to call him something worse, I told him that we could not. I followed your lead and told my son that Trump was now the President-Elect and we would have to find a way to respect him, or at the very least, respect the office of the President of the United States. I let both of my sons know that we needed to make every effort to find the good here and go with that.

I told my sons that this new President will not change us or the way we live our lives. We will still volunteer at the homeless shelter in Detroit. We will still respect and love our friends no matter what race or religion they are. We will still believe there is good in this world, and we will be just some of the people who help spread that goodness everywhere.

My sons, my husband and I will still support a strong, educated, and hard-working woman who strives to push on that crack in the glass ceiling and watch it shatter all around us.

As you mentioned yesterday in your speech, even though I feel sad, even though we are suffering a painful loss, it was all worth it. We made history together, and you made it all possible.

Thank you for doing it. Thank you for getting up
on the stage, over and over, to debate a man who called you a "Nasty Woman", and who clearly did not know even half as much as you did about the job he's now been given. It could not have been easy, but you did it without losing your composure, which, to me, may have been the most impressive thing of all.

As I sit here and listen to the names of the possible people our new President is choosing to put in his cabinet and on his staff, most, if not all of them rich, white men, I will try to remain positive. I will try to remind myself of that wide crack in the ceiling and remember that, in four more years, we have another chance to make things right.

You did this for me. You did this for my sons. You did it for my niece.

When you feel down and you second guess yourself in those brief moments when you are alone, don't forget how many of us out here who have been made stronger and better because you chose to do something no woman has ever done before.

And also remember that over and above all the amazing things you have achieved in your life, probably the single best thing you ever did was raise a strong, confident, smart and loyal daughter who is now a mother of her own. When the going gets tough, take out a picture of your two grandchildren and remind yourself how proud they will be to know that their grandmother changed history in more ways than one.

Thank you. Thank you for your service to our country and for everything you've done for woman all over the world.

You can take a break now, if you so choose. We've got your back. No worries.

Sincerely,

Tammi Landry-Gilder, Author, Wife, Mother, Blogger
www.tlandrygilder.com

You can find this post here https://themighty.com/2016/09/feeling-suicidal-letter-to-someone-whos-lost-hope/
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