Millie, A great woman

Yesterday I got the call she had succumbed to a number of torments, failing kidneys, pneumonia, heart issues... I knew it was coming and cried myself out of emotion the night before. When I got the call, I was just quiet and mechanical. "What needs to be done now", was my thought. I have momentary lapses here and there. I feel most heartbroken for my Grandfathers loss. They were together for 70 years, day in and out, annoying one another and loving at that same time.

I think of how sweet they were together, a few times I saw him pat her bum, and she in her seventies would be a shy and embarrassed as a school, say to him "Oh John".

Millie Jones was a great role model, and a wonderful Grandmother or Baba. She worked hard for her family making dinners and deserts that always included some peanut butter for her husband John. Her strawberry jam was my favorite. I loved to watch her cut of the strawberries and and boil the ingredients with so much sugar.

I remember one time we were camping and I was swinging on swings after the typical Edinboro camp monsoons. I leaned back to far while gliding upward on the swing only to drag my hair through the mud puddle below. My hair was covered in mud and I was a bit scared to go back to our camper. Grandpa  and Grandma were so careful about keeping everything so neat and clean, and I might make a mess with my mud strewn hair. But when I arrived at the door Grandma just took me to the sink and washed out my hair. I was the only thing that mattered. Not the mess.



I called to try to talk to her just to hear her voice one last time and she had already fallen into the coma. Her last words were to my Grandpa. He told her he loved her, and she said, "I love you too." Then she closed her eyes and went to sleep. She died after 1 AM the next day. I am glad she will no longer suffer, and be hurt by the dementia that had become such a nuisance.

I was blessed to have her for so long. I am her oldest grandchild. I cherish the days I got to spend with her, and so glad I am home to be with family now.

Babino patcheh or Grandma's little penis

I have been going to my husbands village for 2 years now. Every time we go, Baba and Deda  greet us at the door. Deda shakes our hands. Baba pulls us in for hugs and lots of kisses that are closer to the neck than the face, so I always get a strange vampirish vibe from them, even though she barely has teeth.

While she is kissing us, she is always muttering sweet nothings of love to us like we are children. It is very sweet and I feel loved. This time while I was there, a cousin translated one of the  things she says to my husband.... Babino Patcheh. (I know I am not spelling it right in Serbian, but I am spelling it right for American pronounciation.)

I knew when she was saying Babino she was calling us her's. It's like saying Grandma's baby or something. What I didn't get was the second part. Patcheh is the word for baby duck and this is slang for penis. All along she has been calling my husband, her little penis. And as odd as it sounds, it is a sweet thing to say. I did laugh my dupe off when I heard this!! (Dupe means butt.)


I will have to listen closer to hear what she is calling me next time. ;)