Where You Came From, Part I

I am sitting here tonight feeling pretty sorry for myself. Mae has been really, really fussy ALL day. Repeated bouts of tears and crying for no apparent reason. I wonder if she is sick, teething, stomach ache, constipated, or something worse. I have tried everything to make her happy but had finally hit my wits end at about 5 pm tonight -- something I am not proud to admit. Pearson is out of town for three days for work so it makes the days and nights longer. I always have a level of anxiety after putting Mae to bed knowing if something happens in the middle of the night then I am the only person here to handle it. I am sure that this is just one of many days to come that I have lost my patience, I guess it is the first time really admitting to it.

As I continue to wallow in my own misery, I know my life is pretty fantastic. I know I am fortunate. I know I am lucky to get to stay at home with Mae, live in a house, drive a new car, and never worry about my next meal. Right now, I think about the tragic mining accident in West Virginia that killed 25 miners with 4 miners still missing. I think about the families who lost their loved ones and how my "wits end" is nothing in comparison to their pain and grief of losing their father, husband, brother, or friend. I think about the hard and dangerous life of mining. Then, I think about my own family.

My grandfather, or Mae's great grandfather, was Joseph Kogut. My grandfather was a coal miner in PA. I can only imagine the many days that he went into the dangerous mines to provide for his family to make sure they had food on the table and a roof over their head. My grandfather got black lung and left the mines. He subsequently went on to buy a bar in Johnstown. The memories that I have of that bar are still so vivid to me today. They are the memories of my childhood. They are happy and filled with tons of laughs and video poker. My grandfather died when I was eight and I wish I would have known him better. My fondest memory of my grandfather was him sitting in the window at his bar.

My grandma, or Mae's great grandma, was Rose Kogut. Mae's middle name came from my grandma -- to honor her and celebrate her life. I was so fortunate to have known my grandma so well and to have had so many years with her. The memories I hold of her I will treasure forever. I especially remember her love of Christmas and singing Silent Night. I remember her devotion to God and her family. I think she was one of the two kindest women I have ever met (my other grandma was the other).

I will try to fill in more details and family history in subsequent posts and maybe I can convince my dad to be a "guest" writer. As I feel sorry for myself tonight, I know that my parents' parents and my parents had it a lot harder then me but I hope, that like me, they might have lost their patience a couple of times. And if they did lose their patience, I hope that their children forgave them for being less than a perfect parent in the morning.