My Brother from Another Mother

No my dad didn't have an illegitimate child, but imagine my surprise when my parents called me at UT and said "Meghan, we have some news for you.  You have a new brother".  The first thought through my head was wow that must have been some party last night because I woke up in bizzaro world.  Then I thought how in the world did this happen.  First of all my parents could not possibly have had sex.  That was just too much to imagine and I just now even had a hard time writing it. Second, we all knew my mom had ensured that she would have no more children after Graham was born.  Not saying Graham was what made her make that decision but...  ahem.  Luckily before my mind could wander anymore they clarified.  They were taking in an exchange student from Norway.  His name was Christer Jenssen and he was the same age as Graham.  I of course went into princess mode screaming he better not get my room!!!!  They assured me that he would be sharing a room with Graham and we made plans for me to meet my new brother.  When I first met him I was amazed how well he spoke English.  I could read a little Spanish and French, but my verbal skills were very lacking in foreign language department.  He seemed like a really nice guy and he fit in really well with the family.  Because I was at college I didn't get to spend that much time with him, but the nice thing about having someone from far away come live with you for a while is that you get to show them all the things that you love to do and it makes you appreciate your own life.  One of my favorite memories of Christer is the time when we went to Ohio for Christmas.  We decided to take him to downtown Cleveland to Public Square and Tower City.  Tower City had just opened and was much nicer than it is now.  There was an ice skating rink in Public Square and I loved to skate.  I thought I was a pretty good skater too.  We paid our admission fee and skated up.  I glided out onto the ice thinking I would impress Christer with my skating skills.  He didn't notice because he zoomed past me and I think he did a double axel with a twist.  He maneuvered around the rink like a pro.  I think he had me figured out because he just laughed at me as he spun around.  I screamed- "This is not fair, you probably ice skate to school in Norway".  

The thing I admired most about Christer was how he would listen.  I know this may come as a surprise to many of you but sometimes, not often, I open my mouth and speak before I think. Christer was quiet, but when he spoke it meant something.  

Thank goodness for Facebook.  I get to see pictures of him and his perfectly adorable children. I can't read most of what he writes because my Norwegian is even worse than my French, but I can still see his personality in the pictures and all the smiley faces in the comments on his posts.  I am glad I got an extra brother for a year and I hope we get to meet in person again.  

Kevin and Deanna's Wedding

19 years ago I was honored to be a part of one of the best weddings I have ever been to.  Kevin is my cousin on my mom's side- the Gallagher's.  He is about 7 months older than me and his whole life I was forced upon him.  He wanted nothing more than for me to just leave him alone, but I would have none of it.  I would nag him to play with me until he finally just gave in.  At family weddings he would be forced to dance with me so our families could get the "oh they're such cute little kids" wedding picture.  I think he eventually just gave up and decided to like me.  It was just easier.  His high school sweetheart was DeAnna Barrella, some really cute Italian girl from the other side of town.  I loved (love) DeAnna.  Mostly because she is just a great person but partly because she made Kevin be nice to me.  When they broke up I was just devastated, but alas they reunited and Kevin made the best decision of his life and asked her to marry him.  I was asked to be a bridesmaid.  It was my first time.  Kevin of course had to remind me that I wasn't really a "maid" but more of a "matron".  Thanks cuz.  The wedding was beautiful and DeAnna was stunning.  I think I miss the over the top styles of the '80's and early '90's.  I have always thought that big hair and big poofy shoulders make your butt look smaller, and as a classic "pear" this is always a goal of mine.  The priest at the wedding might have hit the vino a little early because nobody could really understand what he was saying, but his personality just added to the whole scene.  Wedding finishes, pictures at the church, pictures at Oberlin College and then off to the reception!!!  Woo Hoo!!!  For my friends in the south, you have never lived until you go to a northern wedding.  Southern weddings are very pretty, very gentile, and can be very fun but the North has you beat on most counts.  Our family is Irish.  Very, Very Irish.  DeAnna's family is Italian.  Very, Very Italian.  The spirits were flowing the minute you walked in the door (except Father ???, he had started earlier remember)  I have no idea what we ate, I just know that it was not cabbage rolls.  Kevin forbid cabbage rolls because we had them at every single family function and he hated them.  We ate and we drank,  And we drank and we ate.  Kevin considered me one of the groomsmen so he expected me to do the shots when they did.  Wow. We danced and danced.  The Chicken Dance, The Electric Slide, Brickhouse and of course polkas.  Cleveland is the home of Frankie Yankovic- the King of Polka and dad of Weird Al. If you are from Cleveland you know how to polka.  Then the Italian's came out in their really nice suits and danced the tarantella (?).  This Irish girl couldn't do that, but unfortunately I think I tried (yikes).   Then it came time for the bridal dance.  The Bride and Groom go to the dance floor and people stand in line to dance with them.  You pay to dance so the couple will have some cash on their honeymoon, but you get a shot of liquor for your cash.  My last real memory of the wedding is one of the uncles holding the money bag asking if I would like a shot of schnapps or of whiskey.  I thought he said to have both, so I did.  I am told we stayed for a few more hours, but who knows.  I paid for that wedding for days.  I couldn't even eat my chicken paprikash the next day but it was totally worth it.  Their wedding was one of those events that people use as a marker in family history- Before/After Kevin and Deanna's wedding.  They really are a good match and I am very happy for them.

Weddings now are so pinterest perfect with every detail planned.  I long for the days when it was ok to have your reception at the Knights of Columbus so long as there was a keg and a good DJ.  Put some flowers on the table to dress the place up.  It isn't what matters anyway.  There are whole businesses devoted to the perfect wedding.  It starts with the perfect proposal, then the perfect announcement, then the perfect save the date card.  Tens of thousands of dollars are spent to ensure that the toothpicks are just the correct shade of rose to coordinate with the flowers flown in from the Netherlands.  I have even heard of weddings where the couple request that the guests wear certain colors so the pictures will look better.  Really????  I wish these people could have been at Kevin and Deanna's wedding and experienced a truly exceptional day.

Pimp Granddaddy

Like most people who grew up in the depression my grandparents were frugal.  They lived for the first years of their marriage in a duplex with my great-grandparents.  Now don't get me wrong, when I say frugal I do not mean cheap.  They definitely enjoyed having "things", but they knew that fun things came after everything else was paid for and there was money in the bank, or hidden under the stairs, for a rainy day.  My grandmother loved to tell the story of her Dodge Charger and her Corvette with the airbrushed butterfly on the hood. The Corvette got them involved with the Corvette club which I probably can't write about because I am trying to keep this blog rating PG-13 or under.  I will just post this picture of a Corvette club party.  Yep, that is my grandparents.

Need I say more

But this story isn't about those cars, this story is about the Cadillac.  I have mentioned before that my grandfather had poor health and was an early patient of open heart surgery.  People generally didn't live long after they had their chests cracked open in those days and I truly believe that knowing that he may not have long to live changed the way my grandfather lived the last 15 years or so of his life. Posted on his bathroom mirror was a note that said 3 things I want to do before I die.  I am not sure if this is exact, but it was something like this.

1. A few years of good living

2. See all the grandkids graduate from high school (when he wrote this Ashleigh hadn't been born yet)

3. One more nice car

He got the few years.  Graham was close to graduation.  Only one more thing to go, so he showed up one day with a pimped out white Cadillac with red velvet interior.  We were all kind of shocked. It was so white.  It was so red inside.  It was so "un-Grandpa", but you could tell that he really loved it.  We teased him and asked if he had practiced his "South Lorain Lean". (A common driving position in which the driver holds the wheel with his left hand while leaning to his right toward the passenger seat, usually bobbing his head or bumpin' with the beat. It's a pretty badass way to drive. Copied from Urban Dictionary- known in many places as the gangsta lean.  Snoop Dog never made it to South Lorain or he would have given it the correct name the "South Lorain Lean")  He was so proud driving it and would take the long way to get everywhere.  (oh wait, nevermind, he did that in all his cars).  My grandmother loved it too.  She didn't drive it until after he died.  He probably wouldn't have made it as long if she did.  I couldn't find a picture of Grandpa with it, but found this one of Grandma and me.

I know some people would say my grandfather's wish of this car was materialistic and that the money could have been spent better elsewhere, but that is what he wanted and if his desire for this car kept him around a little longer I think it was a really good thing to want.  

The Perm

Many of you have heard of the legend, but few have actually seen it.  Greg Little's perm circa 1977 or 1978.  I had memories of it from childhood, but I wasn't sure if it was real or if I was just mixing up my life with an episode of Welcome Back Kotter.  Alas, while rummaging through the family pictures I found the proof and here it is.  Legend has it that he had so much hair and it was so curl resistant that it had to be permed twice.  While he was/is always very nicely dressed and has a nice classic style we aren't quite sure what made him go to the trendy "jewfro" around this time.  I am glad that I can finally validate this memory, but Dad all I can say is what were you thinking?   Oh wait... looks like I followed in his footsteps not once, but twice in my life.

How to Mail a Letter

My family is filled with Type A personalities.  There is a Way to do everything.  It doesn't matter if you get something done, it has to be done the correct way.  My father is Mr. Process.  This is a really good trait to have when you are a Pharmacist.  Wouldn't want those drugs made the wrong way you know.  He is meticulous when it comes to home improvement.  I swear that Zillow could use the marketing term- "House Remodeled by Greg Little' and it would increase the value by 10%.  His craftsmanship is amazing.   I appreciate his attention to detail, and find that I have inherited some of it, but I definitely fall short.  It drives him crazy when my brother and I don't do things the Way it should be done.  I am not allowed to make pancakes at his house.  I do not start my stirring gently with a fork in the middle of the batter slowly moving outward to make sure each and every grain of flour is blended at it is perfectly smooth.  I throw the hand mixer in there and always end up with some un-blended mix on the bottom.  Now, I have to say that his pancakes are generally better than mine, but mine are good enough.  (Good enough is not a term in Greg Little's vocabulary as you can imagine).

I am very lucky that my father has taught me how to do many things.  My first memory of one of these lessons was brought to mind the other day while Caroline was watching the Bubble Guppies.  (Bubble, Bubble, Bubble, Bubble, Guppies. Bubble, Bubble, Bubble, Bubble, Bubble Guppies.  You have to sing the song every time you say it)  One of the creatures was trying to mail himself to his friends house.  The whole episode was about mail and how a letter or package gets mailed.  I am glad Dad wasn't watching because they of course got it wrong.  I know because when I was about 5 or 6 I was shown the right way to mail a letter.  This is how it went.

Scene- Two story colonial house in the suburbs.  Tree lined street.  Little girl playing sweetly because she is an angel child that never did anything wrong.  Scene opens with father coming into the room

Greg: Daughter, grab your jacket.  We are going on a walk and I am going to teach you a very important life lesson today.

Megan (pre-"h"): Ok Daddy

Greg:  Daughter, mailing a letter is like life.  If you are doing it right you will succeed.  Do it the wrong way and who knows where you will end up.

Megan: Ok Daddy

Greg:  First you make sure the letter is addressed properly with a return address and the stamp placed perfectly square in the corner.

Megan: Ok Daddy

Greg: Next you walk to the mailbox.  In our neighborhood there is one on 17th street and one on 15th street.  They have pickups at different times so do your research to make sure you are going to the right mailbox where the letter will be picked up the fastest.

Megan: Ok Daddy

Greg:  Now we are here at the mailbox.  First you pull down the handle and check what time the pickup will occur.  You should usually have this memorized from previous visits, but sometimes the government does crazy things just to mess things up. (he says the same thing about Obamacare).  Once you have your time established, carefully lay the letter flat on the tray and close the lid.  Reopen the lid to ensure that the letter made it into the chute.  If the OCD is kicking in especially bad you can do that a couple of times.  Oh wait, he didn't say that it is just what I do.

Megan: Ok Daddy.  Can I have a cookie now?

Greg; Ok.  Sigh (as if he wasn't sure I was listening)

I was listening.

The day my brother saved my life????

Today is my 42nd Birthday and I wouldn't be here today if it weren't for my favorite brother Graham.  Or at least that is how he tells the story.  First, the backstory.  I was at UT and was having LOTS of fun.  Let's just say that I was rarely making it to bed before 2 or 3.  I was waiting tables and after our shift we would go out and spend all that cash.  I was still making it to class and holding down an acceptable GPA, but needless to say I was burning the candle at both ends.  I woke up early one Saturday morning after a few short hours of sleep and headed to Bristol because the Sphar's were coming to visit and I hadn't seen Sarah in quite some time.  When I got home Graham and I were hanging out in the family room downstairs when we heard my parents announce that the Sphar's had arrived.  We headed up the stairs to meet them.  This is where is goes fuzzy.  Graham says I was in front of him and kind of "fell" backwards and he caught me.  (I can' t help thinking if maybe he pushed????)  Anyway, somehow I ended up hitting my head on the top stair. After I hit I started to walk across the kitchen but didn't make it because I fell to the floor and had a grand mal seizure.  Yep- pissed myself and everything.  All this right as the Sphar's come walking to the door.  Welcome to the Little's, so good to see you, come on in and wait for the ambulance with us.  I can only imagine what everyone was going through.  I honestly only remember coming too, seeing sparkly lights  and hearing voices. (I think those voices were telling me to get my s*** together and slow down).  I know my parents must have been out of their minds, but they knew to keep things lighthearted so Graham and I wouldn't be scared. In true Little fashion we were all cracking jokes by the time the ambulance got there.  I had all the tests to see what had happened.  CAT Scan, MRI, EKG, and EEG.  Everything came back negative.  The sleep deprived EEG was no fun.  I had to stay up all night.  I was used to staying up all night, but at a party, not at the hospital.  Thank you Sarah and Rachel for keeping me company all night.  It was determined that I just fainted.  No real reason, just exhausted.  When I fainted I hit my head and got a concussion which caused the seizure.  I do forgive you Graham for pushing me.  I do thank you for saving my life Graham and letting me celebrate this birthday today.  

I do have to say there was one good thing that came out of all this.  When I went back to waiting tables with my black eye people felt really sorry for me and I made some killer tips.  Here is a picture of my shiner.  After we found out I was going to be ok we had some fun making up stories of how it happened. 

 I need this caption to read, fainted and hit her head, NOT dating an NFL player.  

Aunts

I have been thinking a lot about Aunt's this week.  Will's Aunt Uneva passed away last week and the funeral was Sunday.  I haven't known Uneva very long, but I could tell from the first time that I met her that she was a wonderful person and someone whom I would have liked to be my Aunt.  I am lucky.  I got some really good Aunt's.  First we need to get one thing clear, when I say Aunt I say it like the little crawly worker insect, not the other way that honestly I can't even think of a word that rhymes with it.  I have been in the South for over 25 years and I still can't get used to how Aunt is said here.

Now to my Aunts.  I could go on for pages on each of these remarkable women, but I am going to try and keep it brief.  I will start with my mom's sisters.

The first born (notice I did not say oldest- do I get brownie points for that?) is Bonnie. Christian name Margaret, I think, but the Church wouldn't let you baptize a Bonnie, so she got named after her mother.  I never have figured out why the Church cares what your name is, pretty sure God doesn't, but I digress.  Bonnie is one of the most amazing cooks I have ever met.  I remember her selling her cookies at Christmas and it was great because so many of the relatives bought them.  We got to eat them wherever we went.  The woman has been in charge of more than one community cookbook and I still use them. For my friends whom I have cooked for- she is responsible for Cream Puff Cake, Sour Cream Cookies, and Bourbon Slush.  She also bought Kraft Chicken Noodle Dinner and my mom would never buy it.  I have vivid memories eating this in her kitchen.  Weird, I know, but it makes me feel good just thinking about it.  

I get confused if Mary or Sue came next.  I didn't really know Sue because she passed away when I was young.  There is something about Mary.  No really there is.  Mary was like Pinterest before the internet.  One of the craftiest people that I know.  She can sew, she can cook, she can arrange flowers, she can do it all.  My kids have tents, sleeping bags, blankets and clothes that were lovingly made by her. I have very rarely heard Mary say a bad word about anybody or anything.  I think my favorite thing about Mary is her voice.  She should be a narrator of children's book.  I swear if she read me a book it would lull me to sleep with a smile on my face.

The youngest (notice I said youngest- do I get brownie points for that?) sister is Fran.  Fran is closer to my age and her kids are closer to Liam's age.  Frances Ann Gallager is her full name.  Imagine the snickers when my grandmother put her initials FAG on a bag.  Grandma didn't get it, but it has been the butt of many jokes.  Really I think Grandma should have just marketed the FAG BAG.  I would think they would have sold very well in some areas of the country. Fran is one of the coolest motorcycle mamas that I know.  She isn't like so many women that buy the fancy Harley Clothes and ride on the back of bike.  She can actually fix a bike.  I am pretty sure that she could fix just about anything.

My dad didn't have any sisters but he did have an Aunt that was like an extra grandmother to me.  Her name was Muriel, but she was called Minnow from the time my uncle was a baby and couldn't say Muriel.  Everybody called her Minnow.  Her CB handle was "The Little Fish".  She did not have any kids so Graham, Ness, Jason, Ashleigh and I became her surrogates.  I think she worked early in her marriage, but not during my lifetime.  For somebody who didn't work she had quite the routine though.  Breakfast at Bob's Big Boy which sometimes turned into lunch because the waitresses at Bob's became like family to her.  I am pretty sure she never cooked a dinner my entire life.  She always ate out.  She was always going to Kmart and always running around.  Really not doing anything, but always in a hurry.  We would tell her that a party would start at 2 when it didn't start until 4 because the woman was always late. She had a heart of gold, but she was the person at the party that you didn't want to get stuck by because she could have an hour long conversation about the most mundane things.  She was forever cutting out news articles and giving them to us.  Now I wish that I kept some of these, but at the time I was like "what in the world?"  The picture above is of her at my grandmother's house.  Don't get excited, the cake was one of those square frozen Pepperidge Farm  cakes.  You didn't think Grandma baked a cake did you????  Minnow was always the last to get the joke and when she did she would yell "oh for crying out loud" or if it was a particularly bad one "you are a horse's ass".  She was obsessed with our teeth and would grab our chins and look in our mouth's and say "you better be brushing those choppers".  I would like to send a message to her in heaven - I had no cavities at my last checkup. And yes I go for a cleaning two times a year.  I would go more Minnow but the insurance won't pay for it.  Yes I know that I only get one set of teeth.  Yes, I know how important a good smile is.  Yes, I will make sure the kids brush their teeth.  No I didn't know that the waitress at Bob Heaven's just got a new cat.  Yes, Fluffy is a cute name...

 I don't have a sister so my kids don't get "blood related" aunts.  I am really lucky to have two amazing Sister In Laws, Hye and Rachel,  that I am proud to call my kids Aunts. They are like sisters without all the sibling rivalry.  I get to be an Aunt to some pretty amazing kids too.  I am not crafty like Aunt Mary and I think we would all bust out laughing to think of me fixing a motorcycle like Aunt Fran.  I will probably never be as good of a cook as Aunt Bonnie (although I can make some mean Kraft Dinner).  I hope one day these kids feel as much love for me as I feel for my Aunts