The Dysfunctional Supermom is a thirty-something, twice-divorced, mother of four beautiful disasters between the ages of 3 and 13. Two of those little disasters live full time with she and her fiancé (aka Saint Jason) and the oldest two live 999 miles away with their father (aka Pastor & Mrs. Cleaver) and visit dysfunction junction during their school breaks.

She lives her life according to advice given to her by her grandfather:
“Do the very best you can, for every one you can, as often as you can, for as long as you can…after that, f**k it.”

She has a passion for her kids, Jesus, coffee, bacon, wine and profanity. She’s well aware that she’s a walking conundrum and she’s perfectly fine that fact. 

I came across her several weeks ago, and though she can be a little heavy on the profanity, I loved what she had to say.  She, like me, is brutally honest.  I always respect that.  So when she sent me this touching Guest Post, I jumped at the opportunity to share it with you.  

In honor of my Grandma.  


The history of our grandparents is remembered not with rose petals but in the laughter and tears of their children and their children’s children.  It is into us that the lives of grandparents have gone.  It is in us that their history becomes a future.”  ~Charles and Ann Morse
A few weeks ago, I met Lori on Twitter. She posted a Tweet about her grandmother being ill and how thankful she was for a recent visit she’d had with her: about how grateful she was for the opportunity her girls had to share that precious time with great-grandma.

Today, sweet Lori shared news of a sadder sort with all of us. Her grandmother passed away; and on her mom’s birthday.

Even when we expect loss, even when we are bracing ourselves for it, it still has a way of hitting us square in the chest like a ten ton block. There is nothing quite like experiencing the loss of a loved one. Nothing as painful…no grief as long lasting…no memories as bittersweet.

I emailed the quote above to Lori just a little bit ago. It was a quote a friend of mine shared with me when my grandfather died several years ago. He was my hero. He was my stability & sense of wonder. He was my daddy, for all rights and purposes. It was a devastating loss. However, in losing him, I’ve soaked him into my life all the more.

I see him in the faces of my sons and in my daughter’s lanky legs. I hear him in their smart aleck jokes & goofy laughs. I smell him in the coffee I finally grew up enough to appreciate after he was gone.

The truth is, that those we lose are never truly lost to us. Their legacies will remain for generations.

I remember telling Lori, during our very first conversation on Twitter, that she will treasure that last visit with her grandmother like no other. It is those memories that I wish upon her now. The sights & sounds & smells of four generations of beautiful women in the same place. It’s a rare gift and one I have no doubt for which our Lori is very thankful.

Big love & Huge hugs to you my sweet friend.

Brandi (aka The Dysfunctional Supermom)