Love...

Love is a quantifiable thing or is it? We as kids stretch our arms as far apart as we possible can then say “I love you this MUCH”. In that simple illustration we in our pure and simple childlike minds feel we know how much love we can contain. I even as an adult had a primitive view of love, until my younger sister got pregnant. I watched her belly grow and her life change. I had opinions and feelings about how her life would be after the baby came. Not once did I ever think that her pregnancy would change me and my view of love. She worked daily all the way up to one week before she gave birth. I remember that phone call, “the baby was on the way”. I rushed to the hospital, cursing at the slow moving traffic. The moment Desmond Allen was born I saw a beautiful boy and watched my lil’ sis become a mom. That precious package wrapped in a blue blanket was placed in my arms I looked in to the face of a newborn and felt an entirely new and amazing love that brings me to my knees. I was blessed enough to made an auntie not once but four times so far. Still to this day I miss my niece and three nephews all too much. Yet holding my lil’ sister’s hand as she gave birth was more than I can simply describe.  Love....   Regina

Desmond Allen, 3 years old snorkeling in a wading pool in Grandma's back yard.

"What are these blogs?"

Not long before he passed away, my grandfather asked me, “What are these blogs?”

I explained that the term was short for web-log, and they were like a journal that anyone could read and make comments.

My grandfather was surprisingly computer literate for someone his age, and had been a computer and Internet user for easily a decade before he died in Aug. 2008. In fact, one of his first e-mails was to me, and he called me immediately after sending it to tell me he’d sent me an e-mail. He used his computer for genealogy and to check to prices of his stocks.

I’ve always been proud of my grandfather’s mastery of new technology and in his final years he undertook a huge project scanning, digitizing and cataloguing all the Tode family photos, many of which were slides.

Unlike my grandfather, my grandmother has avoided the digital revolution, preferring to peck away at an old electric typewriter. My grandfather printed all his e-mails, and, in those days, my stories from The Billings Gazette for her to read.

“What would anyone want a blog for?” my grandmother asked.

I went on to tell them how blogs were interactive, a place to learn and connect with people who share your same interests. She didn’t seem satisfied with the answer.

Maybe I should have told her they were a place for people to pay tribute to their creative grandmothers, because, while this blog is about a lot of things, it’s also a lot about her.

I haven’t told her yet that Regina and I named a blog after her, but I’ll keep you posted as to what her reaction is.