Grandma, Year Three
Last year, I wrote about how grateful I was that you didn’t have to go endure this pandemic. This year I’m here to tell you that I’m grateful that I did, and made some good of it.
Adversities are wonderful windows, but only with the right set of eyes. This past year has been my most difficult, yet most rewarding.
In October 2020, my seven month relationship came to an abrupt end, and without closure. For a solid month, I emptied and dried my tear ducts on a daily basis. The devastation was the most I’d experienced, which baffled me. Past relationships were longer and had deeper connections, so I had to figure out why this was so devastating.
To do so, I recognized my sensitive energy and protected it. My already small circle needed to further constrict, leaving me with my therapists and close friends. I was quite lost and broken and they kept me from getting worse, as were the few coworkers I could talk to.
A little past the initial pain, I began to see I was in a losing pattern and was tired of it. The fear of being alone kept me in that pattern, and I finally had to admit I was not as far along with myself as I thought I was.
The previous few years were spent reflecting on my past to understand myself. The acquired knowledge was helpful but not being used properly. Instead of taking that knowledge and making the necessary upgrades in thought and behavior, I was using it as an excuse. As a result, I was less than I needed to be for myself, my relationships, and my jobs.
Once those friends and therapists helped me see that, the next stage was to simply be alone by choice. Previously, I vented to people in hopes they’d tell me what I should do, or at least gain their sympathy. I fooled myself into believing I was changed just by knowing things, and it wasn’t enough. I was bringing my glass to others expecting them to fill it for me, then quickly pouring it down the drain. No wonder I was alone–I was too needy and needed the wakeup call.
Protecting my energy while being alone became crucial, providing clarity I never had. Despite the great coworkers I had while employed by a great company, the job itself was starting to wear on me. Retail has a shelf life for everyone; after 23 years in that industry, my time was coming up.
Writing was starting to become a much stronger desire and factored into the next step. For a long time, I complained about something but did nothing. Clearly, I was hooked on drama. Knowing I needed to change that, I decided to take a leave from the job. I was burned out and needed some clarity on how I was to feed and shelter myself differently while not having my creativity compromised.
Writing wasn’t close to being a money earner, so a pivot was needed. I had taken other leaves from the job but didn’t make good use of the time I afforded myself. This time, it was going to be different.
A coworker and fellow writer who knew of my burnout suggested I sign up for Instacart to be an independent contractor that shops and delivers for people that use the service. A couple days into the leave, I signed up. Two days later, I was approved to give it a go.
Self-confidence used to be an issue for me. As I’ve gotten older, my confidence has grown through how I’ve been able to weather other adversities. Even though I was still working on my fear of being alone, I got to February 2021 feeling decent with my progress thus far.
The person who suggested Instacart to me offered to train me the morning after I was Instacart approved. I couldn’t quite rouse myself awake enough for it, so I told him I’ll try it myself and ask questions if I had any. As it turns out, my insomnia helped me see a pattern: I’m much better on my own, and I needed to teach this to myself.
There were many hiccups along the way, but I was able to use everything I’ve ever been through and learned in all my retail jobs, as well as my creativity, to provide this valuable service to those who need it. I quickly saw I needed not just a different job, but a drastic lifestyle change, and it has been the most fulfilling way to make a living thus far. It’s allowed me to gain further perspectives on what to write about, and what the business aspects of writing mean to me.
The greatest thing about this job is also its scariest: it’s all on me. You know discipline has always been difficult for me. So has managing money. In order to succeed in those areas, I needed to change the context of those things by looking ahead instead of being caught up in my past mistakes and poor relationships with money and discipline. I am nowhere near where I want to be in those regards, but am better than I was, and have laid some groundwork to build momentum towards different and better directions.
For the first time in my life, my job didn’t necessitate so much of my mental and physical energy to survive. That blessing came with something else on the other side. That extra room was filled with the reality of how much resentment I was still carrying, from childhood to now.
I found myself complaining too much about things from all points in my life. Basically, how I was treated and how others conducted themselves throughout my life. I thought I’d resolved those issues, but I was wrong. Some people hadn’t shown a good enough example or appreciation and haven’t atoned for it, and others haven’t evolved out of their own negative patterns despite evidence they can’t or don’t want to see.
I was finding myself irrationally upset with those people and situations. I knew it was not healthy and out of my control. After conversations with my therapists and friends, I began to see I needed to also change those contexts, my reactions, and interpretations of those people and places.
To do so, I needed the clarity of not having interactions with the people and places who had been disrespectful or toxic to me or around me throughout my life. I also needed to do so silently and without setting any limit so as not to expect anything from them or myself more than what will take its natural, nonlinear course.
Slowly but surely, I’ve been reversing my perspective with those people and places so I could find the empathy and gratitude they deserve without being too easy or hard on them. I’m not there yet but have made some good progress. I’m close to forgiving them for at least my sake, but getting there will take some more time.
Another change I needed to address is my relationship with obligation. Being hard on myself was easy for a long time, especially with low self-esteem. For too many years, I’d been too emotional and reactionary, as well as too narrow in my perspective.
Doing Instacart has allowed me to grow in those aspects. About a year prior, I began making the incremental progress that paved the way for these larger and more meaningful strides. A few months into doing Instacart, I quit the retail job and have not looked back. The pandemic simply exposed and accelerated what I was noticing at my location in small doses in the prior pre-pandemic years.
Again, a big part of all the work I’ve been able to do on myself is choosing to be alone without being lonely. When I was initially dumped in October 2020, I promised myself not to attempt anything with anyone else the rest of the year. Once 2021 started with the promise intact, I had begun to see how bad I was at relationships once they started to show signs of me or them needing to move on.
Many times, I reached and fooled myself into keeping these relationships going longer than they needed to exist, all out of fear of being alone. The time gaps between relationships weren’t well-spent on reflecting on what I needed to learn from those failures. I was assigning far more blame than I needed to take. I drove these women away with various immaturities that manifested in my unresolved issues but was too ignorant to own those facts.
2021 began with a new promise: to make sure I was good with myself before even asking anyone on a date. I didn’t know how long that would take, but the last two months of 2020 gave me enough confidence and introspection to know I could and needed to do so.
In February, a potential romance didn’t work out. On our first date, I realized it wasn’t to be. I felt bad for her because of how quickly I escalated our situation, but knew she deserved better than being strung along.
Soon after, I realized I let myself get caught up in the moment yet again, but was proud of how quickly I saw the old pattern and changed course. Yeah, I broke the promise to myself, but I learned from it and started fresh without beating myself up.
In late March, another potential romance presented itself. We were initially texting friends, but after talking on the phone, we realized we have a sensational chemistry. A romantic relationship was budding after a few days, then turned to a few weeks.
She was simply not looking for, nor was in a place in her life for a relationship. Despite how well we got along, treated each other, communicated, and how much we did and did not have in common, it needed to end before it truly got started. It was sad for us both, but not a surprise, and I understood. The last post I published on this website was about her and what we had and may have again.
Something else I was too good at was playing the victim. Whether we realize it or not, we emulate the good and bad characteristics of people we’ve been around much of our lives, and I was negative instead of positive for far too long.
I’d been aware of the lengths I went to in the past to feel bad for myself. Once that lady pressed pause on us, those same patterns were finding their way back to my psyche. Thankfully, I caught myself starting most of those pity parties and corrected my thinking back to reality.
Simply allowing myself to feel my feelings and sort through them to get to places of solutions instead of self-loathing and other negative rabbit holes has been a huge shift. I can work on myself throughout every day I work or don’t work.
Another part of growing with myself was finding happiness in deprivations. Not just being without a romantic partner, but of what is comfortable. Some of these came by accident, others on purpose. This has been a year of following my instincts in order to learn to trust myself to make the most of each day.
There have been days where I barely ate, weeks where I had no money, etc., and I challenged myself to find true fulfillment despite those deprivations without falling into old negative habits and self-talk. I even stopped reading and writing and eating healthy and exercising for stretches of time in order to make sure I am good with myself on my own.
I am aware my subconscious is the real driving force in my life, and that it’s my responsibility to invest the necessary time to correctly interpret everything that happens to me. I also know I’m not stupid. Yet, approaching anything assuming I know nothing is the best attitude to start with.
I’ve gotten to a place where I embrace being wrong, and to be malleable and nimble. Besides embarrassment, I’ve observed too much arrogance in the opposite, including with myself. I want to keep learning and growing and not get stuck in complacency while staying present and humble.
I am proud to say that I’ve been at least mildly successful with all these changes and adjustments. There is so much more room to grow, and I’m in steeped anticipation for the rest of what I’ll be able to do for myself and the world I’m here provide my unique value to. In order for that to happen, I had to finally get myself off the hamster wheel.
On June 23, 2021, I came up with a way to sum this all up: “Self-awareness and self-correction is exhausting, but not nearly as exhausting as spiraling out of control without knowing why and negatively affecting others. I’ll gladly be my own net, without coming to anyone with a catch.” That was the present me talking to the former me.
With all that, here’s the kicker: if you were still alive, I’d not come close to telling you all of this. All of us in the family would discuss our lives with each other but keep certain things from you. I know I don’t have to tell you, but it’s because you’re a worry wart. You knew it too because that’s exactly what you called yourself.
With you, I felt comfortable to tell you anything. And I confided a lot to you, but only the things I figured you could handle. This year, with all these big realizations and adjustments I’ve made, I would have been elated to tell you of them, but well after the fact instead of in the moments of my despair.
I needed to experience those things by myself in order to find true gratitude in those adversities and continue learning about myself to grow. Heck, for the last month and a half of 2021, I didn’t even have this website because I wanted to try a different service. Transferring from there to here became a huge headache that also gave me the deprivation of this platform and allowed me to gain further insights to myself.
I would love to tell you of how Instacart works in more granular detail and how rewarding it is for me and the customers I’ve shopped for. Just yesterday, I shopped for a sweet older lady. Once I delivered her items, we had a nice chat and I told her about all about you and how wonderful of a grandma you were. She was very happy that I had such a great grandma and was elated to hear all about you.
One insight I wish I could have is how wonderful these last three years have been for you, only so I can accurately be happy for you and all you’ve been able to experience with those you lived without for so long.
The idea of missing you has become a mixed set of emotions. If I had a choice, I’d still love to have you here. The reality is, before you died, you were about to have a miserable existence. So, to say I miss you and want you here is to beg you to suffer for me. I’m not nearly that selfish, nor do I find it useful to wish for things that simply were not meant to be When you were alive, my other grandma suffered way too much for way too long before she died. You felt horrible for her and hoped the same wouldn’t happen to you. Thankfully, it didn’t.
Three years will turn to four, then five, and so on. No matter how much time passes, you will be forever fresh to me, with tons of memories to cherish. You are my conscious memory’s first example of love that became a vital foundational element of how loved I was no matter how little I felt about myself. If you didn’t show me so early on what I needed to later show myself, especially this last year, I don’t see how I could be where I am today.
As long and scattered as this piece is, it’s just a summary and an indication of how nonlinear life is to finally break the cycle and get out of my own way. I know you’d listen intently and be so proud of me.
I think about you every day, and laugh and cry about you often. My tears don’t represent sadness; rather, they represent the utmost gratitude that God blessed me with you as my grandma for thirty-six wonderful years.
For my annual tradition, I will now post the eulogy I wrote and spoke at your funeral. This is to offer a fuller context of when you died to each current year that I celebrate your life in this manner.
With as much love and gratitude that I can muster, here’s to you grandma, and all you meant to so many.
For Grandma
My name is Craig Elbe, Florence’s first grandchild. Oftentimes I’ve called myself her fifth child as that’s how she made me feel. She simply was another mother. Her sixth and youngest grandchild, Connor, can say the same thing. Even if there were twenty of us grandchildren, I’m confident her motherly love wouldn’t be diluted.
My first memories with my grandma, I’m told, involved me being very spoiled. I was simply too young to recall the bumming around I did with my grandma and whoever else was with us. There were many trips to many stores and restaurants, with a lot of time and love and money spent on me. Though those memories are not vivid for me, the genuine love she had for me was instilled and never left me.
Being filled with so much love before my conscious memory took hold removed any impetus to do anything crazy when I struggled with my confidence as I got older. My grandma set the tone for how to love your friends and family. She loved and cared for us all so much to the point of us all having an agreement to not tell her of any bad news until the situation improved enough to tell her. The toll bad news would take on her was too much to fathom putting her through it by seeking the solace her love and support provided without fail.
Very early in her life, my grandma found herself to be the peacemaker. Seeing both sides to situations informed her deep sense of empathy. She felt everything so much more than most people. For example, any time she’d read a card or note from one of us, she would tear up on the second or third sentence that expressed love and gratitude to her.
Whether it was just her and me or a room of people, I always found it entertaining how she’d run through the progression of her kids and grandkids before she’d land on the person whose attention she sought.
My grandma was the epitome of a people person. She seemed to find a way to the hearts of many people she interacted with. Her spunky personality and sense of humor was adored by all, from social gatherings to anyone who cared for her at any type of medical facility she was admitted to. Her smile and laugh could brighten any small or vast space, and I could always count on her warmth when life was cold to me.
She had many clichés as punchlines for jokes or to blow off some steam, and it was quite entertaining how she’d say them all like it was the very first time.
My grandma strived to see the good in everyone she met and saw. It wasn’t always easy for her but the effort was there despite evidence some people didn’t deserve her good heart.
Telephone conversations with grandma were always a joy. Most of the time, just saying goodbye was another conversation itself!
Walking into her home was a guessing game of what she was cooking or baking or canning. To this day I’ve not been able to find anything that was as good as her tomato juice or pickles. Anything else lacked the simple but essential ingredient of grandma’s love. What the perfect placebo!
Her refrigerator and walls were covered in pictures of the family, and she always had film in her camera for more moments to capture. What couldn’t fit on the fridge or walls found homes in the various photo albums she accumulated over the years.
While my sister and I were in school, grandma would bring us home when our parents weren’t able to. I’m sure she feared the worst for us walking home, especially once I got to high school and my sister was still in middle school. But, she didn’t want us to be home alone either. She was always my reliable ride to work and home when needed, and was always curious who I saw that day that she knew!
I started playing drums when I was a junior in high school, January of 2000 to be precise. Most days after school I had lots of pent up ambition or anger, so I went downstairs to play my drums. After a few months of practice, I was able to play along to some songs. When I’d begin a playing session, I consistently used the song “Home Sweet Home” by Motley Crue to warm up.
One day, after playing for a while, I came upstairs for a break. My grandma asked me about that song with the piano part in the beginning. I had no idea she was even paying attention! After some thought I remembered it was the first song, “Home Sweet Home” by Motley Crue. Right then and there, she told me she wanted me to play that song on my drums at her funeral! I couldn’t believe she made such a request, but I agreed to it then. It was the first time I felt like I was performing for someone. From that day forward, I always had a special bit of nerves while playing that song, even when she wasn’t there. Grandma being my first audience member seemed very appropriate. She was our family’s biggest cheerleader.
During the summer of 2000, I put myself in a situation where I had nowhere to go. Grandma was nearing the end of her 60s but without hesitation took me. Well, she may have hesitated a little because of my behavior at the time, but it wasn’t apparent. Grandpa had passed away just over four years ago at the time, so it was just her and me. Our only argument was about the length of my hair. She was upset I wanted to grow my hair really long, when all I wanted to do was look cool playing drums with long hair. It took me some years to realize this, but my grandma was just trying to protect me from the judgmental world.
The two months I lived with her finally started to break my rebellious nature. I learned what respect was, and that how I was treating my parents was very wrong. We were close before then, but her taking me in forged a special bond. Today, I’m proud to be the man I am. Those two months with grandma were the beginning stages of me realizing what it was to be a man of principle and character, and she was the only one able to truly reach me during my rebellious teen years.
At that time, she was receiving supplements and other household items from a mail order company called Melaleuca. Also at the time, I became a huge fan of the band Metallica. I had some tapes of some of their concerts and would play them while living with grandma. I never expected her to like the music so I only played the tapes with her permission. Out of the blue, one day she asked me if I was going to watch any Melaleuca. I was so confused for a couple seconds till I realized she wanted to watch Metallica with me! I had no idea she was even remotely interested in such music, and I doubt she really was. She was just being supportive of what I enjoyed and didn’t want to hinder my enjoyment.
The grace and class of how she carried herself was something to behold. Sure, she’d have her sad or weak moments that she’d confide in her close confidants, but she did the best she could with what she had and knew at the time.
Her frugality and tenacity was on display during one time I was visiting with her. It was in her last months of living alone. She noticed her telephone bill went up by about 8 dollars, so she called them up to have them reinstate the previous sale she had before the price hike. By the time I arrived to spend time with her that day, she proudly told me she succeeded in getting the sale price back. She said, and I loosely quote, “It took me till the third person till I got what I wanted, but it’s going to save me about $100 a year!”
While grandpa was living, he and my grandma did the “casino tour” of Wisconsin the short time he was retired before he got sick and passed away. We always knew when they hit the Royal Flush when they would show up at our house with some extra money for my parents, and we knew they were on their way to our other aunts and uncles to give them their share.
Their generosity was apparent, and she continued the trend after grandpa died. I became her casino partner some years later, and she always shared with me what she won but wouldn’t let me share what I won. All she’d let me do was pay for our lunch or dinner.
When I’d be out and about with grandma to bring her to some appointments or at the casino, people would often remark about how nice of a grandson I was to be with grandma. That annoyed me a lot. I genuinely enjoyed spending time with grandma and it wasn’t obligatory. I just wish I spent more time with her.
My grandma was very selfless and never made anything about herself. All she wanted in return was to be grateful and not take her for granted.
Recently, before she passed away, I went to her old house, then her old apartment. I parked for just a minute in each place. I wanted to soak up, one last time while she was still alive, all the recollections of days gone by of all the fun we had. While the memories were very present for me, sadly, those places just lacked the magic once present when my grandma called those places home.
This day is a combination of sadness and happiness for me. We all knew this day was coming, and I’m very grateful we were given a lot of notice, so to speak. The last time I saw her was while she was still pretty good and remembered the good times we shared together. I offered my last love and gratitude. The last time I looked at her face she had the loving smile and grace we’ve all been privy to.
For today’s service, I wanted to do something special for my grandma. Besides the anecdotes I’ve shared, I chose this outfit instead of the customary black colors for a funeral. These are the colors of the house she called home for over 50 years, and was the place she took me in during that summer of 2000. This is my tribute to that time in our lives where we became closer and for what she taught me with love and by example. This jacket is also the last, or one of the last, suit jackets she purchased for my grandpa before he passed away. She gave it to me many years ago and I’ve never worn it till today, and won’t ever again.
As the years have gone on, I’ve not felt right about bringing my drums and playing “Home Sweet Home.” Instead, I’d like recite the lyrics of the song most applicable to her:
“I’m on my way, I’m on my way, home sweet home. Tonight, tonight I’m on my way. Just set me free, home sweet home.”
Grandma, now that you’re home with your parents, sisters, grandpa and the rest of your deceased friends and family, I want to tell you it was an honor being your grandson. The way you introduced me to people with pride, even in your last days while you struggled for air, meant the world to me then and always will. Thank you for everything, and until next time, I love you.