I grew this crystal in sixth grade. It was a subsequent attempt of failed experiments. We were assigned to make a super saturated solution of alum, place it in a jar, tie a string to a pencil, and lay the pencil across the top of the jar so the string is suspended in the solution. The key was to not move the jar. It needed to be completely still for the crystal to form.
I did everything as instructed, except keeping my little hands off the jar. Every day after school I searched the jar for my precious crystal, only to be disappointed. I tried again and again. Other kids brought their crystals to school. Jealousy raged. Mom eventually threw out the solutions and that was that.
I wanted to try it one more time. I again followed all of the instructions to a tee, except this time I added blue food coloring. I decided to take the jar downstairs to the fruit cellar and place it on a shelf.
Time went on and I forgot about the experiment. Months went by. Then one day Mom sent me down to the fruit cellar to bring up a jar of tomatoes, my eyes couldn't believe what I saw. This large blue crystal lay in the bottom of the jar. Larger than any crystal grown by my classmates.
Who would know 50 years later my grandsons would play with this same crystal? Who would know it would inspire their mother the help them grow blue crystals? Who would know she would try to grow a larger one by super, super, super saturating a solution only to create a pan caked with crystals?
When I was 12, I wasn't thinking about keeping this crystal all my life. I wasn't thinking about it as a success after failure. My only thought was is was precious to me and placed it in my jewelry box.

Family

Life feels quite complete. Our little family is together. The twins have such a strong life force; it carries the rest of along. The highs, the lows.
Their obsessions demand attention. Trucks, cars, airplanes, trains. Sense a trend here? We not only buy trucks, cars, airplanes and trains of all sizes, shapes and colors, we read books about them. Various vehicles cover their shirts, pajamas, and pull-ups. We stop to watch a train go by, observe the garbage/compost truck, and comment on the airplane overhead. We know the difference between a backhoe and an excavator.
Who knows where their next obsession will take us. At 33 months the world is a pretty amazing place.
Watching them develop and grow, I constantly tell myself I am so lucky to have joined the Grandma Club.















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Sandwich

I am a part of the sandwich generation.

I am torn between caring for my mom in Michigan and going to California to spend time with our grandsons.

When we are in Michigan, I miss our California family so much. I look at pictures we took on our last visit, I watch the video clips taken, and we sometimes Skype with them. Alexander and Sebastian are 33 months and they change so much in a short amount of time. I hate being away very long. We try to support their parents. We make sure they get out without the children. They need the break and time for each other. I cannot imagine rearing my children without the support of an extended family.

When we are in California, I wonder if my mom is OK. I wonder if she is eating. I wonder if she will die while I am gone. She is very understanding about my huge need to travel to CA often and never tries to make me feel guilty for leaving her. I am thankful for that, but I still feel badly.

On one of my flights home from California, I met a delightful Vietnamese couple. As strangers sometimes do, we shared stories of our lives and families. When I shared my dilemma, they told me the story of taking his mother back to Vietnam to die. They stayed two weeks and got her settled at a family member's home, but had to leave before she died, because they had to get back to their three children an aunt was caring for in California. They took solace in this Vietnamese saying, "Tears only flow down."  They explained that it  means - you must care for your children before your parents. You do the best you can by your parents, but your first priority has to be your children.

I have thought of those words often over the last two years.