<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391116082570969051</id><updated>2011-07-08T00:21:47.683-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dad's Long Journey Back</title><subtitle type='html'>John suffered a massive left hemispheric stroke June 7, 2008</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Missy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17278922268252504878</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SOmaUqvM_iI/AAAAAAAAAAM/anFbkRKzPwY/S220/Isabel_glasses.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>31</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391116082570969051.post-5888024257295622535</id><published>2009-06-08T23:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-08T23:19:24.196-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blessed Night</title><content type='html'>This evening Jeremiah and Daniel gave Dad a blessing. It was a beautiful blessing that gave everyone there a feeling of peace and comfort. I won't write down what the blessing said. But afterward Joseph came up to me and said "Mom Heavenly Father said he would take the stroke out of Grandpa's body" (My kids have this belief that the stroke is like a bug still in Grandpa's body)&lt;br /&gt; After Dad's blessing he helped give Joseph, Mom and me a blessing. Then he insisted on giving Jeremiah a blessing too. It was so sweet and wonderful to see he is still able to use his priesthood. After the events of yesterday this was such a spiritual uplift.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/391116082570969051-5888024257295622535?l=jhgrissom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/feeds/5888024257295622535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=391116082570969051&amp;postID=5888024257295622535' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/5888024257295622535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/5888024257295622535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/2009/06/blessed-night.html' title='Blessed Night'/><author><name>Missy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17278922268252504878</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SOmaUqvM_iI/AAAAAAAAAAM/anFbkRKzPwY/S220/Isabel_glasses.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391116082570969051.post-9171637686211716421</id><published>2009-06-07T21:57:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-08T16:27:16.890-07:00</updated><title type='text'>One year mark, What a bad way to mark it.</title><content type='html'>Today was one year since Dad had his stroke. Sadly it was the worst day he has had since his stroke.&lt;br /&gt;This morning around 7:45 AM Dad had a seizure. I am not sure how massive it was. I do know all of his body was shaking from it. Mom had given him a shower and was helping him get dressed when it happened. He was in his shower chair still but had his legs out of the tub when it happened. Luckily Mom was right there and was able to make sure he didn't get hurt at all. My little Michael was awake early and was at the door when it happened. Mom sent him to get me. She told him "go get your mommy and tell her Grandpa is hurt". Michael woke me up and said "Mom Grandma wants you". So of course I didn't hurry up. I made a stop at the bathroom and was getting ready to head upstairs when I heard Mom scream for me. I ran upstairs and noticed the bathroom light on. I headed toward there and called out for Mom. She yelled for me to call 911. As I called I asked what had happened so I could let the operator know. I could heard Dad breathing really deep and weird almost like a snore with water in it. I was so scared. She told me she wasn't sure if he had another stroke or a seizure but that he was unconscious. The operator got the information they needed and a fire truck got there within 2 minutes of me calling. An ambulance got there a few minutes later. I good friend, Steph came and got the kids. I didn't want them to see Grandpa being wheeled out in the gurney. Plus I wanted to be of some help.&lt;br /&gt;Mom was amazing. She was very calm and knew what to do. I was a mess. I am a crier as everyone knows. By the time they got Dad into the ambulance Dad was starting to come to. He wasn't responsive, but his eyes were open.&lt;br /&gt;Daniel came and got Mom and me and we followed the ambulance to the hospital. Then it was the waiting game. We had to wait to be let into his room. We had to wait for him to wake up again. We had to wait for the doctor to give us information. We had to wait for the results of the blood work and cat scan. Luckily it seemed to go pretty quickly. Dad kept waking up and falling back to sleep quickly. Everything came back normal. So by 11:00 AM Dad was released from the hospital. He was given some seizure medicine and a prescription for more, which he will be taking twice a day. He did get a nasty cut on his tongue from biting it, but other than that, he is mostly just tired.&lt;br /&gt;Dad slept most of the day. We were happy he joined us for dinner. Plus we are so happy he is still here. I was really scared for awhile that he wouldn't be.&lt;br /&gt;The doctor informed us that the seizure was caused by the stroke. Some stroke victims have strokes and some don't. Unfortunately Dad was one who did. The weirdest part for all of us is that is was exactly one year since his stroke. I hope next year we can mark it a better way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/391116082570969051-9171637686211716421?l=jhgrissom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/feeds/9171637686211716421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=391116082570969051&amp;postID=9171637686211716421' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/9171637686211716421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/9171637686211716421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/2009/06/one-year-mark-what-bad-way-to-mark-it.html' title='One year mark, What a bad way to mark it.'/><author><name>Missy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17278922268252504878</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SOmaUqvM_iI/AAAAAAAAAAM/anFbkRKzPwY/S220/Isabel_glasses.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391116082570969051.post-5530239646864130542</id><published>2009-06-05T13:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-05T13:28:02.930-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Trickster</title><content type='html'>Today Dad and Mom got some Mexican food for lunch. I came up stairs after they had finished eating and Dad offered me some of the left over tortilla. After taking a piece and eating it Dad wanted me to try it with some of the two hot sauces that was left over. I opened one and tried had a few bites. I walked away to do something and came back. Dad had a silly grin on his face which I just dismissed. I went to dip another piece of tortilla in the hot sauce I had  been using. As I dipped it in I realized the sauce looked a bit fuller and wasn't quite the same color. I looked over at the other hot sauce and realized it was the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;original&lt;/span&gt; one I had been using. I asked Dad "Did you switch sauces on me"? His reply was a lot of laughter. He was trying to get me to eat the hotter one. I tried the new "hotter" sauce.  And found out it was the milder one. So I informed him it wasn't as hot. We had a good laugh. I guess the joke was on him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/391116082570969051-5530239646864130542?l=jhgrissom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/feeds/5530239646864130542/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=391116082570969051&amp;postID=5530239646864130542' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/5530239646864130542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/5530239646864130542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/2009/06/trickster.html' title='The Trickster'/><author><name>Missy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17278922268252504878</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SOmaUqvM_iI/AAAAAAAAAAM/anFbkRKzPwY/S220/Isabel_glasses.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391116082570969051.post-8938386840601227012</id><published>2009-06-04T20:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-04T20:55:24.355-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Our new Daily trip</title><content type='html'>Dad has started using his walker on almost a daily basis. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Today's&lt;/span&gt; trip was from his bed, into the living room, almost all the way around the kitchen (until we realized his walker wouldn't make it through one spot), and then back the same way he came. He was exhausted by the time he sat back do but proud of how far he went today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/391116082570969051-8938386840601227012?l=jhgrissom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/feeds/8938386840601227012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=391116082570969051&amp;postID=8938386840601227012' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/8938386840601227012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/8938386840601227012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/2009/06/our-new-daily-trip.html' title='Our new Daily trip'/><author><name>Missy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17278922268252504878</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SOmaUqvM_iI/AAAAAAAAAAM/anFbkRKzPwY/S220/Isabel_glasses.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391116082570969051.post-6882786309592733225</id><published>2009-06-04T20:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-04T20:52:25.916-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Goals</title><content type='html'>Mom started making weekly goal for Dad to work on so he can become more &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;independent&lt;/span&gt;. This weeks goal was for him to start pulling out his own clothing in the morning to get dressed.&lt;br /&gt;This evening I was passing by his bedroom and saw him searching through his "closet" (a pantry &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;cupboard&lt;/span&gt; thing of ours). I went in to see if I could help. He was searching for his shorts to wear tomorrow. I helped him find a pair and noticed he had the rest of his clothing in his arms. Mom soon came in when she heard all the commotion. When I told her he was getting all of his cloths ready for the next day a sweet grin came on her face. She told me of the goal she set for Dad. I could tell she was very proud of him to already accomplishing it. He is always very funny when he has done something he is proud of . He is almost shy about it but at the same time really glad we noticed.&lt;br /&gt;We will see what next weeks goal is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/391116082570969051-6882786309592733225?l=jhgrissom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/feeds/6882786309592733225/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=391116082570969051&amp;postID=6882786309592733225' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/6882786309592733225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/6882786309592733225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/2009/06/goals.html' title='Goals'/><author><name>Missy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17278922268252504878</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SOmaUqvM_iI/AAAAAAAAAAM/anFbkRKzPwY/S220/Isabel_glasses.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391116082570969051.post-2673771599880339910</id><published>2009-05-31T22:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T22:35:44.454-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Watch out here he comes</title><content type='html'>The last two days of therapy, Mom and I got them to show us how to help Dad use a walker. They were a bit reluctant but still showed us. He did so good and was extremely proud of himself. The first day he did it he went 48 feet. Since then we have had him do it twice at home. The first time was from the living room into his bed. The next time he went from his bed to the bathroom and back.  I believe he loves the new type of "freedom". Even though it takes two of us to help us. We are hoping to get him to the point where he can get back to his and Mom's bedroom and start sleeping back there again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/391116082570969051-2673771599880339910?l=jhgrissom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/feeds/2673771599880339910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=391116082570969051&amp;postID=2673771599880339910' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/2673771599880339910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/2673771599880339910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/2009/05/watch-out-here-he-comes.html' title='Watch out here he comes'/><author><name>Missy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17278922268252504878</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SOmaUqvM_iI/AAAAAAAAAAM/anFbkRKzPwY/S220/Isabel_glasses.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391116082570969051.post-5300257002735516709</id><published>2009-05-31T22:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T22:26:46.987-07:00</updated><title type='text'>End of Therapy</title><content type='html'>Dad had his last day of OT and PT on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Friday&lt;/span&gt;. I was able to go and watch about 4 times before he ended and Mom was able to come in the last 2 times. They showed me all the different &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;stretches&lt;/span&gt; they do with him and helped me figure out the technique so I could do them at home. I was really glad I went as many times as I did because I didn't really feel like I knew what I was doing until the last 2 times. We took lots of pictures and notes to help us remember exactly how to do them. Dad has one more month of speech therapy. Mom and I have decided that I will do the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;stretching&lt;/span&gt; with Dad and she will work on the speech. Since Dad's arm and leg that I work with are limp, it is quite the work out to do his &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;stretches&lt;/span&gt;. I am just glad he is letting me do them with him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/391116082570969051-5300257002735516709?l=jhgrissom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/feeds/5300257002735516709/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=391116082570969051&amp;postID=5300257002735516709' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/5300257002735516709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/5300257002735516709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/2009/05/end-of-therapy.html' title='End of Therapy'/><author><name>Missy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17278922268252504878</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SOmaUqvM_iI/AAAAAAAAAAM/anFbkRKzPwY/S220/Isabel_glasses.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391116082570969051.post-51606846207464824</id><published>2009-05-10T21:49:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T21:50:10.021-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Please comment</title><content type='html'>I would love hear comments from everyone who stops by. I would been nice to know what you think of Dad's blog and who is all stopping by.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/391116082570969051-51606846207464824?l=jhgrissom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/feeds/51606846207464824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=391116082570969051&amp;postID=51606846207464824' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/51606846207464824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/51606846207464824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/2009/05/please-comment.html' title='Please comment'/><author><name>Missy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17278922268252504878</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SOmaUqvM_iI/AAAAAAAAAAM/anFbkRKzPwY/S220/Isabel_glasses.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391116082570969051.post-1580097003963634714</id><published>2009-05-10T21:36:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T21:40:48.218-07:00</updated><title type='text'>John H and John M</title><content type='html'>My brother John Michael stopped by this evening to tell my Mom and I happy mothers day. We were laughing about how whenever we get a letter that say John on it Dad opens it whether it is for him or John Michael. That's what happens when you have so many Johns in the family.&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334421181473348722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SgerzTQJ3HI/AAAAAAAAARQ/6QAjC07T5dE/s320/April+2009+047.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334421179469772210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SgerzLydtbI/AAAAAAAAARI/-JtAGbu10FQ/s320/April+2009+043.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;John M put sunglasses on Dad. Dad was trying to pretend he was very annoyed with this.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/391116082570969051-1580097003963634714?l=jhgrissom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/feeds/1580097003963634714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=391116082570969051&amp;postID=1580097003963634714' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/1580097003963634714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/1580097003963634714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/2009/05/john-h-and-john-m.html' title='John H and John M'/><author><name>Missy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17278922268252504878</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SOmaUqvM_iI/AAAAAAAAAAM/anFbkRKzPwY/S220/Isabel_glasses.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SgerzTQJ3HI/AAAAAAAAARQ/6QAjC07T5dE/s72-c/April+2009+047.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391116082570969051.post-2197602343929294186</id><published>2009-05-10T21:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T21:35:29.264-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Apologies</title><content type='html'>I feel that I need to apologise for not posting anything in a long time. I haven't had a lot of time and I also haven't had a lot of positive things to post. Dad has been going through a rough spot. He has been pretty moody with everyone and very impatient with us trying to figure out what he is saying to us. He also in very stubborn about not wanting to do his homework and stretches. Which normally we can get him to do it at least once a day. But I believe Mom saw a turn around tonight.  He has always been very reluctant to use a little picture book thing he has to show us what he wants. But this evening he decided to use it show Mom what he needed. We hope this is a good new start.&lt;br /&gt; I realize that everyone wants to hear the good and the bad. I just don't feel motivated to write about it when it is one bad day after another. I am repentive though and will try to be better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/391116082570969051-2197602343929294186?l=jhgrissom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/feeds/2197602343929294186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=391116082570969051&amp;postID=2197602343929294186' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/2197602343929294186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/2197602343929294186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/2009/05/apologies.html' title='Apologies'/><author><name>Missy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17278922268252504878</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SOmaUqvM_iI/AAAAAAAAAAM/anFbkRKzPwY/S220/Isabel_glasses.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391116082570969051.post-5462376605059819894</id><published>2009-05-10T21:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T21:23:59.003-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Story Teller</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SgenlsrpjvI/AAAAAAAAARA/yYg4k4pUZAo/s1600-h/April+2009+048.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334416549734878962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SgenlsrpjvI/AAAAAAAAARA/yYg4k4pUZAo/s320/April+2009+048.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This evening Isabelle climbed on Dad's lap and told him a story. It was something about a scary forest. At one point she threw in something about "grandpa and his dog Tero (that is how Isabelle says Pero)" She sat there for at least a half an hour. Dad sat patiently and listened the whole time.  Those two are very funny together. Isabelle is often the only one who can get Dad to laugh and smile.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/391116082570969051-5462376605059819894?l=jhgrissom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/feeds/5462376605059819894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=391116082570969051&amp;postID=5462376605059819894' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/5462376605059819894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/5462376605059819894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/2009/05/story-teller.html' title='Story Teller'/><author><name>Missy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17278922268252504878</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SOmaUqvM_iI/AAAAAAAAAAM/anFbkRKzPwY/S220/Isabel_glasses.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SgenlsrpjvI/AAAAAAAAARA/yYg4k4pUZAo/s72-c/April+2009+048.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391116082570969051.post-6849961325800864411</id><published>2009-05-10T21:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T21:19:18.698-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sad News</title><content type='html'>Mom was just informed this last week that Dad's therapy would end at the end of May. This was a hard blow. The only reason to stop the therapy is because Dad is no longer showing progress and the insurance will only cover it if he is showing progress. I am not sure how if effected Dad he seemed to already know when Mom told me. I was trying so hard not to cry. I just felt there was so much more I could have done. Lately though Dad has been refusing to work with me. The one upside of this is Mom will be out of school by the time Dad therapy ends and she will be able to work with him a lot more during the summer. And next school year I will have all the boys in school full time so I will have more time to work with him too. Please pray for us. If Dad starts showing progress again we can get him back into therapy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/391116082570969051-6849961325800864411?l=jhgrissom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/feeds/6849961325800864411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=391116082570969051&amp;postID=6849961325800864411' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/6849961325800864411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/6849961325800864411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/2009/05/sad-news.html' title='Sad News'/><author><name>Missy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17278922268252504878</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SOmaUqvM_iI/AAAAAAAAAAM/anFbkRKzPwY/S220/Isabel_glasses.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391116082570969051.post-2498464887335880440</id><published>2009-05-10T21:01:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T21:04:13.624-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Weight Loss</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SgejlI6DYnI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/kYzNPdCAoW4/s1600-h/April+2009+046.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334412142085104242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SgejlI6DYnI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/kYzNPdCAoW4/s320/April+2009+046.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Before Dad's stroke Dad weighed 277. He now weighs 230. He is very careful about how much he eats and we often find him skipping dessert.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/391116082570969051-2498464887335880440?l=jhgrissom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/feeds/2498464887335880440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=391116082570969051&amp;postID=2498464887335880440' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/2498464887335880440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/2498464887335880440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/2009/05/weight-loss.html' title='Weight Loss'/><author><name>Missy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17278922268252504878</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SOmaUqvM_iI/AAAAAAAAAAM/anFbkRKzPwY/S220/Isabel_glasses.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SgejlI6DYnI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/kYzNPdCAoW4/s72-c/April+2009+046.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391116082570969051.post-7772564741650929204</id><published>2009-05-10T20:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T21:06:12.619-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Visit from the Brothers</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SgehW3w8GoI/AAAAAAAAAQw/-E4zOXNG_bk/s1600-h/April+2009+030.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334409697942051458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SgehW3w8GoI/AAAAAAAAAQw/-E4zOXNG_bk/s320/April+2009+030.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Betty Bill Phil Dad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Dad's brothers, Phil and Bill, and Bill's wife Betty came for a short visit on Saturday. Dad was very excited to see them. Bill is 10 years older then Dad, and Phil is older then Bill (not sure how much older). They talked a lot of what is going on in their lives and a little about when they were younger. I got to ask them some questions about my grandpa. Dad doesn't remember much of his father since he passed away when Dad was 2 1/2. They talked very highly of their stepfather. They said he was stern but kind. It was nice to hear such positive things of a man who I have never met and can't wait to see in the life hereafter. Dad enjoyed hearing about his father too. I can always tell when Dad is interested in a topic. He just perks right up. We were sad to have them leave so soon. They were a very enjoyable company. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/391116082570969051-7772564741650929204?l=jhgrissom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/feeds/7772564741650929204/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=391116082570969051&amp;postID=7772564741650929204' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/7772564741650929204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/7772564741650929204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/2009/05/visit-from-brothers.html' title='Visit from the Brothers'/><author><name>Missy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17278922268252504878</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SOmaUqvM_iI/AAAAAAAAAAM/anFbkRKzPwY/S220/Isabel_glasses.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SgehW3w8GoI/AAAAAAAAAQw/-E4zOXNG_bk/s72-c/April+2009+030.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391116082570969051.post-6092115539763394431</id><published>2009-02-17T20:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T21:10:30.768-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Ridin'</title><content type='html'>My Grandma Brunner sent this to my Dad. We all enjoyed it quite a bit. I thought it explained our life pretty well&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I'm Ridin'&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By Baxter Black, DVM&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Papa told a story form his childhood Dust Bowl days. He was out a'ridin' fences-tryin' to find 'em, anyways, When he saw a cowboy buried in the sand up to his waist. Papa trotted up behind him till he saw the feller's face. "How ya doin?" asked my Papa, carful not &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;to&lt;/span&gt; be blindsidin'. The cowboy tipped his hat, looked up and said, "I'm fine. I'm ridin"&lt;br /&gt;As time went by, my Papa grew and finally found a girl. But the big war put him on a shop and clear around the world. Their letters few and far between were sweet in many ways. She would write him love and kisses, and inquire about his days, 'Bout his health and meals and mental state, and how he was abidin',&lt;br /&gt;"Don't worry, Darlin', I'll be home," he said. "I'm fine. I'm ridin'."&lt;br /&gt;Back home they bought a little place and started raisin' cattle and corn and kids and country, never saw life as a battle, but a chance, and opportunity, took the bitter with the sweet. So busy with their daily chores just makin' loose ends meet. Sometimes they'd pass each other like two ships at sea a glidin'. He'd peck her cheek, she'd squeeze his hand,&lt;br /&gt;"We're fine," they'd say. "We're ridin'."&lt;br /&gt;Their life went by and they got old, ad then she had a stroke. He held her till the medics came but ne'er a word she spoke. He prayed like he had never prayed to heal the one he loved. And when the wheelchair brought her home he thanked the Lord above.&lt;br /&gt;"I've been so worried," he said in tears. her smile began to widen. He touched her face and read her lips,&lt;br /&gt;"I'm fine," she said. "I'm ridin'."&lt;br /&gt;Some will see their life half empty, some will see their cup half full. Some will only open one eye and find living miserable. But if yer fine and ridin', you can see and you can plan 'Cause life's got a lot to offer, if yer head's not in the sand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In our house we take the bitter with the sweet. Though we have our hard days and we wonder when we will see Dad as he once was again. We are so very thankful for the days we have. I have been so blessed to spend this time with my parents. I have developed a sweeter relationship with my father. And we are just so happy he is still here and he understands us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/391116082570969051-6092115539763394431?l=jhgrissom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/feeds/6092115539763394431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=391116082570969051&amp;postID=6092115539763394431' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/6092115539763394431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/6092115539763394431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/2009/02/im-ridin.html' title='I&apos;m Ridin&apos;'/><author><name>Missy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17278922268252504878</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SOmaUqvM_iI/AAAAAAAAAAM/anFbkRKzPwY/S220/Isabel_glasses.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391116082570969051.post-971938398934274023</id><published>2009-02-09T16:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-10T16:41:44.874-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dog Show</title><content type='html'>Today we were watching the Westminister Kennel Club Dog show. They were showing the hound dogs. Dad saw one that he really liked and said "Wow look at that". We all did a double take. He sounded just like he use too. We couldn't believe he just said a whole sentence when it is so much work get a word out of him that we understand. It was nice to remember that he is still in there and with more work he will be talking again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/391116082570969051-971938398934274023?l=jhgrissom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/feeds/971938398934274023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=391116082570969051&amp;postID=971938398934274023' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/971938398934274023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/971938398934274023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/2009/02/dog-show.html' title='Dog Show'/><author><name>Missy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17278922268252504878</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SOmaUqvM_iI/AAAAAAAAAAM/anFbkRKzPwY/S220/Isabel_glasses.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391116082570969051.post-7755582532343657404</id><published>2009-01-30T16:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-10T16:42:21.117-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Independence</title><content type='html'>Dad has become more and more independent recently. He started getting out of bed by himself, which took a lot stress off of me because I was worried often when I was down stairs that I wouldn't hear him or when I had to get the boys he would be stuck because there was no one around to help him. Last week Daniel was over and he went to help Dad get into bed. Dad waved him away because he wanted to show off what he could do. He lifted his own leg into bed and got all comfy by himself. Which before then Mom and I didn't know he could do that. So we decided he could do a lot more on his own and we kind of stand aside until we &lt;strong&gt;know &lt;/strong&gt;he needs our help. When I first moved here there was no way he could get in and out of bed by himself. Dad couldn't even sit up with out us helping. He has come a really far way. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Unfortunately&lt;/span&gt; he has a way to go. But is sure gives me comfort to know next year when we don't live in the house he will be a lot more independent.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/391116082570969051-7755582532343657404?l=jhgrissom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/feeds/7755582532343657404/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=391116082570969051&amp;postID=7755582532343657404' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/7755582532343657404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/7755582532343657404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/2009/01/independence.html' title='Independence'/><author><name>Missy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17278922268252504878</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SOmaUqvM_iI/AAAAAAAAAAM/anFbkRKzPwY/S220/Isabel_glasses.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391116082570969051.post-2533348578908815361</id><published>2009-01-26T20:31:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T20:52:19.101-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dinner Help</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SX6PILL3odI/AAAAAAAAANY/tOiNR2_wkyA/s1600-h/January+2009+040.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295827582438580690" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SX6PILL3odI/AAAAAAAAANY/tOiNR2_wkyA/s200/January+2009+040.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; When we got home from church we were all starving (We get out at 4pm). Dad was ready to eat the moment we came through the door. We informed Dad that dinner wouldn't be ready for at least another half hour. I told him he was more the welcomed to help get ready for dinner. He responded with a 'Yeah Yeah' (meaning sure ok). First he set the table. I set all the dishes we need on the table then he put them where they went. This was pretty entertianing because if he couldn't reach where the plate belonged he would kind of toss it. I decided I should help before he tossed something off the table. So then he would hand me a dish and point at where he wanted it. After we finished getting the table set Dad helped Jeremiah finish making dinner. He really enjoyed helping out and we all had some good laughs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295827580235013522" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SX6PIC-f3ZI/AAAAAAAAANg/ZSjpzek1eGc/s200/January+2009+041.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SX6PJDjEIWI/AAAAAAAAAN4/eIG7L56kVEs/s1600-h/January+2009+045.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SX6PIR-sayI/AAAAAAAAANo/FhCVlcYa7gk/s1600-h/January+2009+042.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Dad trying to figure out what Jeremiah was doing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SX6PIR-sayI/AAAAAAAAANo/FhCVlcYa7gk/s1600-h/January+2009+042.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295827584262368034" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SX6PIR-sayI/AAAAAAAAANo/FhCVlcYa7gk/s200/January+2009+042.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SX6PJDjEIWI/AAAAAAAAAN4/eIG7L56kVEs/s1600-h/January+2009+045.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SX6PI3cK35I/AAAAAAAAANw/FjpWonC94RQ/s1600-h/January+2009+043.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SX6PJDjEIWI/AAAAAAAAAN4/eIG7L56kVEs/s1600-h/January+2009+045.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Putting the pinapple on the skillet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SX6PJDjEIWI/AAAAAAAAAN4/eIG7L56kVEs/s1600-h/January+2009+045.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SX6PI3cK35I/AAAAAAAAANw/FjpWonC94RQ/s1600-h/January+2009+043.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295827594318110610" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SX6PI3cK35I/AAAAAAAAANw/FjpWonC94RQ/s200/January+2009+043.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SX6PJDjEIWI/AAAAAAAAAN4/eIG7L56kVEs/s1600-h/January+2009+045.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SX6PJDjEIWI/AAAAAAAAAN4/eIG7L56kVEs/s1600-h/January+2009+045.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Waiting and making faces&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SX6PJDjEIWI/AAAAAAAAAN4/eIG7L56kVEs/s1600-h/January+2009+045.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SX6PJDjEIWI/AAAAAAAAAN4/eIG7L56kVEs/s1600-h/January+2009+045.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295827597568254306" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SX6PJDjEIWI/AAAAAAAAAN4/eIG7L56kVEs/s200/January+2009+045.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SX6PJDjEIWI/AAAAAAAAAN4/eIG7L56kVEs/s1600-h/January+2009+045.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dinner is served&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SX6PJDjEIWI/AAAAAAAAAN4/eIG7L56kVEs/s1600-h/January+2009+045.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/391116082570969051-2533348578908815361?l=jhgrissom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/feeds/2533348578908815361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=391116082570969051&amp;postID=2533348578908815361' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/2533348578908815361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/2533348578908815361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/2009/01/dinner-help.html' title='Dinner Help'/><author><name>Missy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17278922268252504878</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SOmaUqvM_iI/AAAAAAAAAAM/anFbkRKzPwY/S220/Isabel_glasses.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SX6PILL3odI/AAAAAAAAANY/tOiNR2_wkyA/s72-c/January+2009+040.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391116082570969051.post-7040322713816205401</id><published>2008-12-21T21:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-21T21:48:04.109-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Who's that handsome Fellow????</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SU8nQb7-yVI/AAAAAAAAAI8/7JxI20-Bsc0/s1600-h/December+2008+022.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282484051259607378" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SU8nQb7-yVI/AAAAAAAAAI8/7JxI20-Bsc0/s200/December+2008+022.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; If you don't know who this is let me give you a guess. It is who this whole blog is about.&lt;br /&gt; So here is the skinny on this new look.  We recently got Dad to start using his electric razor by himself. Before Jeremiah kept teasing Dad that if he helped Dad out he would shave the whole thing off.  Dad would usally respond with a look of 'yeah go right on ahead'. Well one evening Mom gave Dad his electic razor and left the bathroom to get some things done. Upon returning she found Dad with chunks missing from &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SU8nQCxTrpI/AAAAAAAAAI0/XqGEol2BuFo/s1600-h/December+2008+021.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282484044503953042" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SU8nQCxTrpI/AAAAAAAAAI0/XqGEol2BuFo/s200/December+2008+021.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;his mustache.&lt;br /&gt; Mom responded with a "John what did you do" .&lt;br /&gt;Dad responded with a "giggle giggle giggle".&lt;br /&gt;Mom spent a good part of a half an hour shaving off the rest. When Jeremiah and I returned for running an errand, Dad was beaming with his new look. He had a good laugh as I, who don't remember ever seeing my father with out a mustache or a beard, couldn't stop staring at him. And all the kids responses. Michael has let Grandpa know that he does not like his new look. I think it is very becoming of him. And really shows off how much weight he has lost.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/391116082570969051-7040322713816205401?l=jhgrissom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/feeds/7040322713816205401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=391116082570969051&amp;postID=7040322713816205401' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/7040322713816205401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/7040322713816205401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/2008/12/whos-that-handsome-fellow.html' title='Who&apos;s that handsome Fellow????'/><author><name>Missy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17278922268252504878</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SOmaUqvM_iI/AAAAAAAAAAM/anFbkRKzPwY/S220/Isabel_glasses.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SU8nQb7-yVI/AAAAAAAAAI8/7JxI20-Bsc0/s72-c/December+2008+022.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391116082570969051.post-5743229122936521273</id><published>2008-12-04T21:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-04T21:55:33.543-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Big 70</title><content type='html'>Yes that is right. Dad turn 70 today. The big event that happened today was my sister Carrie flew in from Philadelphia. We had a simple dinner of split pea soup and homemade rolls (Dad was very excited to get this meal). We are waiting to have the big party on Saturday, when more family will be here. I will post pictures of the big party.&lt;br /&gt;People who where born the exact same day as Dad&lt;br /&gt;Baseball player Billy Bryan (MLB)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a class="mw-redirect" title="US" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/US"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;American&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; political figure, Andre Verne Marrou  affiliated with the &lt;a title="USLP" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/USLP"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Libertarian Party&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;2 day after Dad was born, Franco-German peace declaration signed.&lt;br /&gt;I tried finding out more interesting things that happened the day Dad was born but this is all I could find.  So I guess it is easliy declared that on December 4 1938 the most exciting thing that happened was my Dad was born. And on his 37 birthday he got the best gift he could ask for, a baby girl, my big sister Julia.&lt;br /&gt; Happy Birthday to two very special people in my life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/391116082570969051-5743229122936521273?l=jhgrissom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/feeds/5743229122936521273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=391116082570969051&amp;postID=5743229122936521273' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/5743229122936521273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/5743229122936521273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/2008/12/big-70.html' title='The Big 70'/><author><name>Missy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17278922268252504878</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SOmaUqvM_iI/AAAAAAAAAAM/anFbkRKzPwY/S220/Isabel_glasses.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391116082570969051.post-1546696404626404870</id><published>2008-12-04T21:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-04T21:57:45.637-08:00</updated><title type='text'>More updates to come.</title><content type='html'>I am sorry for not posting much lately. I have a lot to put up but I just haven't found the time. I will as soon as things settle down a bit (if they ever settle down).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/391116082570969051-1546696404626404870?l=jhgrissom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/feeds/1546696404626404870/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=391116082570969051&amp;postID=1546696404626404870' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/1546696404626404870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/1546696404626404870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/2008/12/more-updates-to-come.html' title='More updates to come.'/><author><name>Missy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17278922268252504878</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SOmaUqvM_iI/AAAAAAAAAAM/anFbkRKzPwY/S220/Isabel_glasses.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391116082570969051.post-3037687895097921173</id><published>2008-11-14T20:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-14T20:50:07.936-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cancel That</title><content type='html'>When I first started this blog Mom wanted me to make it private. But Mom has since decided to keep it open for all to view. So don't worry you will all be able to view this at anytime.&lt;br /&gt; Thanks for all the input back. It was nice to hear so many people have look at this site.&lt;br /&gt;Love ya all&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/391116082570969051-3037687895097921173?l=jhgrissom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/feeds/3037687895097921173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=391116082570969051&amp;postID=3037687895097921173' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/3037687895097921173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/3037687895097921173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/2008/11/cancel-that.html' title='Cancel That'/><author><name>Missy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17278922268252504878</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SOmaUqvM_iI/AAAAAAAAAAM/anFbkRKzPwY/S220/Isabel_glasses.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391116082570969051.post-3595383391979043580</id><published>2008-11-12T21:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T20:36:46.650-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Baking</title><content type='html'>For dinner I was making biscuits and gravy. Well I decided to have Dad help me make the biscuits. Once I had the dough made I helped Dad stand at the counter. Dad rolled out the dough and cut out all the biscuits. I thought he would want to stop once we finished the first cutting, but he helped me put all the biscuits on the pan and stayed at the counter until all the dough was used up. I actually did very little to help. Mom came home right before we finished. She was very excited to see Dad standing at the counter helping. She was very suprised to find out he had been there for about 10 min. As I helped Dad sit down he let out a sigh of exhaustion. I just kind of laughed and asked if he was tired. He was very proud of himself though. When Jeremiah got home he was happy to report of his hand in making dinner. I will have to find more things to have him help me make.&lt;br /&gt;I am sorry I didn't get a picture. I was too nervous to leave him at the counter very long. Next time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/391116082570969051-3595383391979043580?l=jhgrissom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/feeds/3595383391979043580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=391116082570969051&amp;postID=3595383391979043580' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/3595383391979043580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/3595383391979043580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/2008/11/baking.html' title='Baking'/><author><name>Missy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17278922268252504878</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SOmaUqvM_iI/AAAAAAAAAAM/anFbkRKzPwY/S220/Isabel_glasses.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391116082570969051.post-7973765470868123550</id><published>2008-11-09T15:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-09T16:08:15.648-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Talking or rather Singing</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-7982128dbb2a904c" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v6.nonxt3.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D7982128dbb2a904c%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330034820%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D53A30FF9A17EBE099CBDE22C19C3F34DE6F99098.2B5123581BEDDCDB3F56FC77ABB28D85225508A7%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D7982128dbb2a904c%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DQXdtv9_ZiZbcN8Upf0Mvc_wcTIA&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v6.nonxt3.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D7982128dbb2a904c%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330034820%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D53A30FF9A17EBE099CBDE22C19C3F34DE6F99098.2B5123581BEDDCDB3F56FC77ABB28D85225508A7%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D7982128dbb2a904c%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DQXdtv9_ZiZbcN8Upf0Mvc_wcTIA&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Please forgive the noise in the background. The speech therapist is using a technique that she found called MELODIC INTONATION THERAPY(MIT). She has never used it before but since Dad likes to sing so much she decided to try it. As you can see it takes Dad a lot of concentration to be able to do this. Dad is a lot better at saying 'Thank You' He has even got to the point where we just tell him to say Thank You and he does. Really big strides this week.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/391116082570969051-7973765470868123550?l=jhgrissom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=7982128dbb2a904c&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/feeds/7973765470868123550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=391116082570969051&amp;postID=7973765470868123550' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/7973765470868123550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/7973765470868123550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/2008/11/talking-or-rather-singing.html' title='Talking or rather Singing'/><author><name>Missy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17278922268252504878</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SOmaUqvM_iI/AAAAAAAAAAM/anFbkRKzPwY/S220/Isabel_glasses.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391116082570969051.post-7091509836963728123</id><published>2008-11-08T09:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-08T09:07:02.653-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Going Private</title><content type='html'>Love Ones and Friends,&lt;br /&gt;I will be making this blog private in the next week or so. If you are interested in being able to look at this blog still please make a comment and leave me your name and e-mail address so I can make sure I send you an invite to be able to still view the blog. If you don't want to leave your e-mail address just leave your name and I will either see if I have your e-mail address already or I will track you down and find it.&lt;br /&gt;Thanks&lt;br /&gt;Missy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/391116082570969051-7091509836963728123?l=jhgrissom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/feeds/7091509836963728123/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=391116082570969051&amp;postID=7091509836963728123' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/7091509836963728123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/7091509836963728123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/2008/11/going-private.html' title='Going Private'/><author><name>Missy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17278922268252504878</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SOmaUqvM_iI/AAAAAAAAAAM/anFbkRKzPwY/S220/Isabel_glasses.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391116082570969051.post-4304087315424663306</id><published>2008-11-05T20:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-05T20:34:34.468-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Voting</title><content type='html'>Yesterday I took Dad to vote. I was really hoping to get a picture of him but I also had three of the kids with me and had my hands full. Dad was very excited to be able to do this. Since he can't read very well I was allowed to help him out. They had a little desk set up for those who couldn't stand at the voting boxes. So I read to him what he could vote for and who. He was very &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;opinionated&lt;/span&gt; about some of the propositions and didn't care much about others (Like should so and so be kept as a judge). Those ones he had me skip over. After I finished voting myself, and we got load in the car, Dad let out a cheer. We both laughed and sang that we had finished voting and no longer had to worry about it. It was wonderful to see that Dad still has the ability to vote. I believe he was pretty happy about it too. We celebrated with a trip to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;McDonald's&lt;/span&gt;. But now Dad is grumbling about who won.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/391116082570969051-4304087315424663306?l=jhgrissom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/feeds/4304087315424663306/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=391116082570969051&amp;postID=4304087315424663306' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/4304087315424663306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/4304087315424663306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/2008/11/voting.html' title='Voting'/><author><name>Missy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17278922268252504878</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SOmaUqvM_iI/AAAAAAAAAAM/anFbkRKzPwY/S220/Isabel_glasses.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391116082570969051.post-6286979503614108446</id><published>2008-10-26T19:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-26T19:40:44.361-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Projects.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SQUpx041I4I/AAAAAAAAAC4/IBmQcSltVts/s1600-h/October+2008+057.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261657675639628674" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 134px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SQUpx041I4I/AAAAAAAAAC4/IBmQcSltVts/s200/October+2008+057.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We are still trying to get projects around the house done. Mom and Jeremiah spent Saturday working on Dad's bathroom. They got the second coat of paint on and started getting all the trim in place. Mom finally found the cover for the light fixture and got that put back up. Hopefully this project will be finished by next week. Dad enjoys watching all that is going on. He often wants us to roll him in to &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SQUpxbosYNI/AAAAAAAAACw/VMnt5jC5hv8/s1600-h/October+2008+056.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261657668861059282" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 134px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SQUpxbosYNI/AAAAAAAAACw/VMnt5jC5hv8/s200/October+2008+056.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;watch what Jeremiah is doing and to give his support and advise (even though we are not sure what he is saying). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/391116082570969051-6286979503614108446?l=jhgrissom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/feeds/6286979503614108446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=391116082570969051&amp;postID=6286979503614108446' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/6286979503614108446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/6286979503614108446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/2008/10/projects.html' title='Projects.'/><author><name>Missy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17278922268252504878</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SOmaUqvM_iI/AAAAAAAAAAM/anFbkRKzPwY/S220/Isabel_glasses.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SQUpx041I4I/AAAAAAAAAC4/IBmQcSltVts/s72-c/October+2008+057.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391116082570969051.post-8228917442565178602</id><published>2008-10-26T19:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-26T19:34:30.614-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Arm Splint</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dad has a arm splint he needs to wear through out the day. What it does is holds his fingers out and his wrist up so that his fist doesn't become clenched. The PT informed us if it ever becomes clenched, Dad, will never be able to straighten it out again. Before we were informed this little tid bit we were pretty laxed about having him wear it. We would try to get him to wear it for a half an hour at least 4 times a day. The PT said he had to start wearing it 1 hour on 1 hour off throught he entire day. Well this thing hurts. I have seen Dad cry about it a couple times because he was in so much pain. So Mom decided to work him up to it. Every couple days she would add about 5 min more. We are happy to say that yesterday we made it to an hour.  So now he has it 1 hour on 1 hour off. He even leaves the parts that cover just his fingers on longer then the hour. We think it is more comfortable for him. We are just so happy to see this progress.&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261654886133628674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SQUnPdKxfwI/AAAAAAAAACg/zEnq_clqtNk/s200/October+2008+063.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261654894710080162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SQUnP9HjwqI/AAAAAAAAACo/NXaZYaWvj_I/s200/October+2008+064.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/391116082570969051-8228917442565178602?l=jhgrissom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/feeds/8228917442565178602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=391116082570969051&amp;postID=8228917442565178602' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/8228917442565178602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/8228917442565178602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/2008/10/arm-splint.html' title='Arm Splint'/><author><name>Missy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17278922268252504878</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SOmaUqvM_iI/AAAAAAAAAAM/anFbkRKzPwY/S220/Isabel_glasses.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SQUnPdKxfwI/AAAAAAAAACg/zEnq_clqtNk/s72-c/October+2008+063.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391116082570969051.post-2155214098343027963</id><published>2008-10-20T12:47:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-20T12:53:46.322-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Downs</title><content type='html'>This last week Dad seemed to be having an off week. He usually teases at meals, plays with Isabelle and is, for the most part, in a good mood.  Well this last week I can't remember him teasing my once and he just seemed really down. We worried he was getting sick. I kept asking if he felt alright and he would always give me his "yeah yeah". On Sunday Mom realized that she forgot to put his anti-depression pill in his pill boxes for that last week. At dinner on Sunday he was very chipper, trying to get Jeremiah to eat the last of the food and giggling pretty hard at the stories I was telling about the kids. It was nice to have him back. It is just hard to realize how important those pills are for him right now. Hopefully in the future he will be able to get off the anti-depressant.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/391116082570969051-2155214098343027963?l=jhgrissom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/feeds/2155214098343027963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=391116082570969051&amp;postID=2155214098343027963' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/2155214098343027963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/2155214098343027963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/2008/10/downs.html' title='The Downs'/><author><name>Missy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17278922268252504878</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SOmaUqvM_iI/AAAAAAAAAAM/anFbkRKzPwY/S220/Isabel_glasses.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391116082570969051.post-2101617915564083201</id><published>2008-10-20T12:41:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-20T12:46:42.991-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Grandpa's helper</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SPzfOglN_rI/AAAAAAAAABg/09QQkJpDC7g/s1600-h/October+2008+027.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259323905219100338" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SPzfOglN_rI/AAAAAAAAABg/09QQkJpDC7g/s320/October+2008+027.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Isabelle has become Grandpa's little helper. When I am moving him from room to room she is trailing right behind be to see what she can do. On most occasions she is the water girl. She carries Grandpa's water jug to wherever he needs it.&lt;br /&gt;Isabelle also can do no wrong (most of the time) in Grandpa's eyes. He usally just chuckles at all the little things she does. As you see in the picture Grandpa loves to have her by him. It is nice that she is able to spend this time with him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/391116082570969051-2101617915564083201?l=jhgrissom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/feeds/2101617915564083201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=391116082570969051&amp;postID=2101617915564083201' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/2101617915564083201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/2101617915564083201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/2008/10/grandpa.html' title='Grandpa&apos;s helper'/><author><name>Missy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17278922268252504878</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SOmaUqvM_iI/AAAAAAAAAAM/anFbkRKzPwY/S220/Isabel_glasses.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SPzfOglN_rI/AAAAAAAAABg/09QQkJpDC7g/s72-c/October+2008+027.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-391116082570969051.post-6892165071323689777</id><published>2008-10-12T21:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-12T21:48:11.765-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Simon</title><content type='html'>Today was a great day. My brother Paul called and talked to my Mom about Dad's speech. Since his stroke was on the right side it affected his speech greatly. But aparently music is on the left side of the brain. Paul had informed us that when he was younger my Dad and him were driving and the song &lt;strong&gt;You Can Call Me Al &lt;/strong&gt;by &lt;em&gt;Paul Simon&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;came on and my Dad informed Paul what a great song it was and that it was a good wholesome song. So in the past week Paul has heard this song twice, on the radio, and it got him thinking about this memory with my Dad. Paul asked us to see if we had it to play for him to see if it would help. Mom knew where the CD's were and we played it for Dad. You should have seen his face light up. He was lying in bed and he just laid his head back, with a sweet grin on his face, and started tapping his toes. He sang to the beat as well as he could. When the song finished he sighed with satisfaction. It was so great to see him feeling such joy. I plan on playing more CD's for him throughout the day. Thank you Paul so much for sharing your promptings with us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/391116082570969051-6892165071323689777?l=jhgrissom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/feeds/6892165071323689777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=391116082570969051&amp;postID=6892165071323689777' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/6892165071323689777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/391116082570969051/posts/default/6892165071323689777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhgrissom.blogspot.com/2008/10/simon.html' title='Simon'/><author><name>Missy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17278922268252504878</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SWrCdf5b-74/SOmaUqvM_iI/AAAAAAAAAAM/anFbkRKzPwY/S220/Isabel_glasses.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
