Back To Where It All Began

It really is something

The squad and I are in Philadelphia

Unfortunately, my gram is not doing well. She’s in hospice care. It’s sad to see her weak and frail, but it’s clear she feels at peace and is ready to go. I will miss her.

A Tribute To My Gram

My gram and gramps were the ones who came to this country, at least on the Stoddart side. My gram came to Philadelphia from Edinburgh with my uncle. My father was the first American. My gramps stayed in Scotland for more than a year, to continue working and send money to the states. Eventually, we all got to Philly.

My parents had me when they were very young, so the age gap between my aunts and uncles and me is not very big. My aunts and uncles are like half siblings and half aunts or uncles.

I’ve always felt the same way about my gram and gramps. They raised me in their own way. My gramps died 15 years ago, and my gram has been doing her best to keep living. It has been hard for her, as it would be for anyone.

I was sitting next to her, holding her hand. She speaks in whispers, and when no one else was paying attention, she looked right at me and said, “It really is something in the end.”

I will find out one day.

When I was 20, I was gearing up for a court date for a crime I committed. I was scared and nervous. Before the date, my gram wrote me a letter. I still have it. I’ll keep the details private, but in the letter she told me I was “the apple of her eye.”

I’m the oldest grandchild, the next generation of Stoddart’s, and the firstborn son. I know that meant something to her, and I hope I’ve made her proud.

A Tribute To Life

When my sister and I left the home care center, we met back up with Jules, The Little Dude, and The Sweet Girl. We’re staying in a neighborhood called Fairmount, which is in between where I grew up and Center City where my aunt lives. It’s a great neighborhood.

Yesterday, we spent hours with the kiddos. We took them through the secret garden next to the penitentiary, to a playground, and to get ice cream.

What better way to celebrate my gram than to keep spreading love to the next generation. It all started with her. We’re back to where it all began. In Philly.

A Tribute To Time

I’m not the type of person who needs to find deep meaning in everything. Sometimes bad things happen, and that’s all there is to it.

However, I believe in the power of learning lessons. There is something to take away from every experience, good or bad.

Yesterday, we were all sitting in my gram’s room, and I was looking at all the pictures people had brought. When you’re young, you feel like you have all the time in the world. When you get older, you realize how quickly it goes by.

In many of these pictures, I was just a boy, yet it feels like they happened only a moment ago.

Later, I was watching the kiddos as they played. I thought about how they are now in that place in life where I was in some of those pictures. Endless possibilities, with the whole world in front of them.

Death comes for us all. But before it comes for me, I hope to pass down the love that was passed down to me.