The Power of Positive Thinking

A fun blog I read on the regular is here: Skrinkering Hearts I honestly don't remember how I stumbled across it, but I did about a year ago and have been enjoying it ever since. I'm pretty convinced if we knew each other outside the blog world we'd be friends... and I'd definitely be helping her and her friend Brandy with some scary health situations they're currently experiencing. Please read Brandy's post below and keep her in your thoughts, and if you're the praying type- pray for her and her man. Cancer fucking sucks, and whatever I can do to help others through the scary world it opens up to you, I will, but before we get there, let's all send some positive vibes Brandy's way- she needs them.

My name is brandy. And I have a blog.

And a plea.

I use my blog to showcase the crazy I meet everyday, share the stories of the kids I teach and document my love for tequila, dairy products and the abdominal muscles of Ryan Reynolds. Rarely do I talk about personal issues on my blog- as personal as the dude that I adore (who I actually met through my blog- single ladies, let that be a very good reason to blog, the possibility of meeting someone as wonderful as my man), but I need your help. And it involves my dude.

He’s a guy who made math comics for my class, so they would love learning about addition. He’s the kinda guy who sends my friends gift cards when they are having hard times, who remembers every story I ever told him, who was the first person I celebrated with when I got a teaching job. He’s the guy who sent flowers to me at school- dozens of my favourite pink roses just because he loves me. He’s a guy who has spent a year patiently explaining (and re-explaining) everything there is to know about football during the important games when silence is preferred. He’s made me word puzzles and comics and stayed up late playing Scrabble with me (even though I beat him almost every time). He’s listened to me cry about school and family and jobs. He is everything I never knew I needed and everything I always knew I wanted.

The holidays have hit us hard. He’s recently been told he may have something called multiple myeloma- an incurable cancer, that gives a person an average of five years of continued life. Though this news has came as a shock, he continues to be exactly who has always been- spending his time worrying about me, rather than worrying about himself. He’s the most selfless individual I know- (he stayed late on Christmas Eve to work, so his co-workers could leave early) and a post like this would never be something that he would promote or encourage but when I’m overwhelmed and feeling helpless, the blogging community has always given me tremendous support and comfort, two things I desperately need at this time.

As I write this, the future is uncertain and we aren’t sure what’s happening. He’ll need to see an oncologist soon, to verify what’s going on in his body. My hope is that everyone who reads this think positive thoughts and if you are a person who prays, could you add him to your list? (You can refer to him as ‘brandy’s hot awesome dude’). If you don’t pray, please keep him in your heart.This cancer is only a possibility and I believe that the prayers and positive thoughts of people can make sure it never becomes a reality.

I want to give a big thank you to the blog owner who scraped their original blog plans and graciously put this up. My goal is to get as many people as possible to see and read this post. If you are reading this and want to help, copy and paste my plea into your blog or send a link through twitter, so more people can keep him in their thoughts. I would be so very grateful (even more grateful than I am to my friend who first showed me the picture of Ryan Reynolds on the cover of Entertainment Weekly. If you haven’t seen it, Google it. You. Are. Welcome).

I realize this all sounds dramatic, a Lifetime movie in the making- but this is life. Right now. And I’m throwing away any hint of ego and am humbly asking for you to pray or think kind thoughts. If you are able to pass this on, thank you and if you know anything regarding MM- please email me (my email is on my blog). This isn’t a call for sympathy or a plea for pity. It’s just one girl hoping you can think positive thoughts for the person she adores. If my current heartache provides you with anything, let it be with the reminder that life is short, love is unbending and no one knows what could happen next. Maybe it is silly, but I really do believe that positive thoughts can make a huge difference. Thank you for reading this and if you haven’t already? Please tell someone you love them today.

I did.

Be Open, Stay Open

December 24th: What was a lesson you learned this year that changed you?

I think of myself as someone who is open to feedback, open to change and ready for the challenges that life brings. That isn't to say that I adapt well or shift my reactions, opinions and output quickly, I don't. For the past 2 years a lot has been changing in my life for the most part it has been very good, but it doesn't come without any challenges. I have had to bide my time, watch my reactions and constantly step back and reevaluate my snap judgments. Those aren't always easy to change. In fact, I would say that the judgments you make quickly are the ones that are hardest to reevaluate. So, the lesson I've learned this year, I hope, that has helped change me? Don't let yourself be driven by those snap decisions and judgments. Be open to all the information and gather it before you determine how you are going to approach a situation or person. In short, don't just be open, stay open.

Real Life

I cried during my run this morning.
My route took me through the Mall, and as I entered the shelter of the American Elms I thought of how I exercise, and participate in endurance events for Dad. I do it because he cannot, I do it to honor him and make him proud. I do it for him and I do it for me. I connect with him.

There I was running under these majestic trees, converging of city and nature of hard lines and twisted branches. The tears just came, my heavy breathing and beating feet couldn't hold them back. I felt him, standing at the end of the Mall cheering me on. Every bench I ran by I thought, I could just stop and sit down and cry and then finish my work out. But I pushed on. I fixed my gaze on where he'd stand, right at the end of the row, right under the last canopy of trees. His smiling face, his hands clapping, all for me.
When I turned the corner back on to the East Side drive, I left the magic behind me. I wiped the tears from my cheeks and I looked ahead.
Its real life, this mixing of here and gone, body and soul, reality and magical thinking. It is a part of my real life. And then I got a taste of it even more, the real world, when I was stopped 50 feet later to allow pedestrians to cross in front of me to claim their seats in the Bandshell for Oprah in New York.
It was real life, and real life in the park this morning.

Dear Dad,

3 years ago on May 7th you took your last breaths. As your life left your body, ours were changing in so many ways, still entwined with you. As we moved through the beginning stages of grief, we each began to take on pieces of who you were, each of us embracing a part of you. Mom took on your bad boy qualities, Sammy thought he had to take over the role as “Dad” but that’s another story, and I took on your responsible qualities. It wasn’t an ideal way to be living, but we got through and learned a lot and are such a strong family now. A family with a huge gaping hole, but still a strong one. We protect our weakness through being grounded in it, and grounded in groundlessness. I think we’ve gotten pretty good at it. Wow that sounded like Mom.
So now, it is 3 years later. The first year, we had the unveiling and I was home for the week. I had just moved to NYC to be with Matt, and was in all honesty pretty depressed. That week Mom and Sam were driving me crazy and I felt like I had to take care of everything. It wasn’t a great time for any of us, a year is nothing and we certainly had only begun to heal. I remember being so annoyed with everyone and wanting nothing more than to get out of there. The unveiling was what it was, they are never easy, I have found.
The second year was better, I had settled in to the city, I was planning a wedding, Mom had met someone, and we had figured out the right roles to be in. We spent the end of the month in CA, our new smaller family (But maybe not since Matt was/is a part of it now) and it felt good and I felt happy and sad, I let myself feel both things.
So here we are, the third year. I took the day off today, to let myself reflect and be with my thoughts.
I walked around the park earlier this afternoon and took some pictures. I sat on a bench and people watched, not sure if I was about to be rained on or not. Why is it always rainy around your deathaversarry? It felt good to be in nature as I let the day sink in, I could feel you all around me in it. Everything is so lush after all this rain, I can see the upside.
I feel sad. I miss you, I miss the family we had, I miss hearing you say, “Cub!”, I miss sharing my life with you and hearing your advice and wisdom. I miss watching you and Matt get to know each other and share interests with each other. I missed you walking me down the aisle and dancing with me at my wedding. I already miss my children not having their Grandpa Eric.
But Dad, life is good. I’m so madly in love with Matt and so honored to be his wife. I’m making my way in the world and kicking ass in my career. I have dreams and I’m going to keep making you proud like I told you I would. Mom has a new man in her life who is sweet, kind, caring and crazy about her and I’m so happy for her that she has found someone to keep sharing her life with that also cares about us. Sammy is finding his way in the world and is going to do great things with his life. He’s in Japan right now and I’m so proud of him and all that he is experiencing. I told you, we’re a strong little holey family and we’ve really figured out this life without you present in it. It just isn’t always easy.
There’s so much more I want to say, but I know you know.
I love you Dad,

Cub

Blowing Away

A few weeks ago a friend of Matt's, who of course I've become friendly with, wrote on my Facebook wall that she wanted to have a girls night with me. At first I thought, okay is there something she needs to talk about? But then I realized that she just wanted us to become friends. I thought, she must be feeling like she doesn't have enough female connections and is reaching out, and that is cool.
So we set a date and met up last night. She said in a G-Chat as we were planning that she was determined to get to know me, and know me she did.
After mentioning a vacation her and her husband have planned to Italy in July and asking if I've ever been, she got to know me very well. I launched in to my story, our story, of the last 3 years of my life, or really the first months after my Dad's death.
I could see her emotion on her face, her searching for something to say and all she could say is, "Wow. You're so strong." Then she said,"And you, you jsut talk about it, you just put it out there." I honestly think that is what blew her away more than my story. People don't talk about death. They don't talk about the things that scare them. I think they need to, I think it is necessary to living a balanced and grounded life.
It makes me want to pick the memoir back up again. I need to keep putting down my story, so others are less scared to tell theirs. It is good to blow people away, and to be blown away every once in a while at how powerful you can be just by speaking your experiences.

Passover

Passover, as most Jewish holidays, is about food and story telling. We gather family or friends, or friends and family and participate in a Seder. Seder means order. The story is told in a particular order with certain steps to take as you go through it. That doesn't mean you can't skip, you can, and most Reform Jews do, liberally.
On Passover we tell the story of the Jews' exodus from Egypt where they were enslaved. Jewish men used lamb blood to mark the houses of Jews so that when the Angel of Death came to smite each Egyptian's first born (the final plague) those houses would be Passed-Over.

This is the first year I've truly let myself be a part of Passover. Last year there was a family Seder, but I wasn't committed and I didn't keep Passidic (Not eating leavened things to remember how quickly the Jews had to flee Egypt, not allowing their bread to rise)
After my Dad died, I didn't want to celebrate anything, and in the eyes of Judaism I shouldn't have for a full year. So, when Passover came around in the first Spring since my Dad had died, I let it pass me by. I wasn't ready to connect to it again until this year.
At my Mom's Seder we utilized the Haggadah (The book used for the Seder) my Dad had put together many years ago. His Seder was comprimised of this Haggadah (bits and pieces he had taken from other Haggadah's) and the stack of reference materials he'd come to the table with, should any interesting points need to be raised. He loved learning and teaching.
As we sat down on Saturday night I realized how long it had been since I'd let myself fully participate in a Seder. The years before my Dad died I was busy with other things, I went to a couple of family Seder's but the meaning never really sunk in, and at one I was so doped on pain meds from having my Wisdom Teeth out that I was asleep half the time.
I took pleasure in going through the Haggadah my Dad had put together. I thought about how thrilled he'd be that we were using it, that we were discussing points, that all these people who have been in our life for so long were back together again celebrating the Holiday.
At one point we were reading a page and our family friend Mark said, "I have Eric's copy (indeed the front did have Eric written on it) and this page is crossed out." We all laughed, he put in skips! So we skipped!
As we went through the night and I spoke with people I hadn't seen in years about how nice it was to all be back in this capacity again, I realized what I had been missing out on. I'd been avoiding Passover because it was a holiday that meant a lot to my Dad. The history, the sharing of view points, the telling of stories, these were all things he loved so much about Judaism. All things that I'm sure he wants me to enjoy, to carry on, to take part in fully. I realized that these past few years I was being passed over, or maybe I was passing over experiences I should have been a part of. I thought I was passing over the pain, but with all things related to grief you can't pass it over, no matter what you put on your doorpost it is coming for you, sooner or later.
So as continue to avoid the leavened items in my kitchen (If I was Orthodox they would all be thrown out!) I look forward to many Passovers to come, Passovers that I fully participate in, and hopefully many Seder's I will be host with a Haggadah put together in honor of my Dad.

That Time

I was walking to the train this morning thinking about how I hadn't really written here recently. (I've been keeping up pretty well with my other blogs) I was thinking how I wanted to write a cheesy post about how happy I am. Blissfully so I've been saying.

I was thinking how, I don’t often want to write posts describing my luck in finding a partner who so perfectly complements me, and who so often compliments. But I should write them I convinced myself. And maybe it will help others be inspired to find that in their lives, although I will say it doesn’t always happen and I don’t think it happens often and I consider myself truly among the luckiest who get to find that. Sorry, that's probably uninspiring.

So, obviously I hadn’t written that post yet, I would probably have tonight.

I sat down and looked at this picture. Immediately my mind jumped to a longing, a deep missing of my Dad. We’re so carefree and happy in the picture, despite the crushing loss to the Angels we witnessed that day. I just wanted to sit down and be sad, and of course I wanted to write it out. So there goes the I’m so happy post.

It is that time of year again when the feelings of sadness are stronger, when they come on unexpectedly and linger for longer.

I find myself most of the time living with this kind of foggy knowledge of a piece missing, but my life is full and I’m living well. Then February turns in to March and my head goes back to the time when that foggy knowledge was a strong anxious feeling of an impending loss, and then comes April and I’m back in panic mode and then we reach May and I’m just in a fog of sadness again, I turn foggy.

I know it is coming, and so I prepare for it when I think of it, but I don’t think there is anything I can do except ride with it. The biggest lesson I’ve learning, and it was a hard one to learn, is to just feel. You have to be present to the feeling, you have to let your body and mind succumb to it and it will flow in and then out of you. I promise, it will flow out if you let it. Too many people feel the emotions flow in to them and then shut their body up so it never leaves. It weighs on them, twisting and turning inside. I know. I’ve been there.

The same can be true of good emotions too, feel them, breath them in and let them fill you. The real test is letting them both be inside you at once. I can’t let my blissful happiness and fullness of love leave just because some sadness enters. I don’t have to let it leave. I will be present to them both. Because if my Dad left me one legacy it was how to build a life full of love, love you are proud of and show. He was never afraid of emotions, he once rewound the end of Sleepless in Seattle over and over to watch the end and let himself cry. And boy do I miss getting to tease him about that.

Greener

I was thinking today how for so much of the last 2+ years I've been waiting for the next big thing. I don't think I've really felt settled in a place since the first few years out of college, when life was just about taking this exciting new step and settling in to being a grown up. I had fun, I didn't think too much about the future and for most of my time in Somerville Matt was living nearby.

After my Dad died I concentrated on living in the moment, just being in that second and getting to the next. Then I decided to move to NY and everything was about getting there. Then I got here and everything was about getting a job. Then I got a job and next was getting engaged. We got engaged, then it was about the WEDDING. We got married!!! But we also got unemployed and it was about getting a job, if it hadn't have been about that, it would have been about getting a house. Now we're employed, and staying here for another year, but I don't feel the settled feeling I'd like to feel as a newlywed. I am blissfully happy with my husband, but not with my situation.
I want a house, I want a yard, I want to make a place ours, our first place.
I can't watch the new home shows on HGTV anymore because it makes me too anxious, too uncomfortable, too I want to be there and I can't be for my own good.
The timing isn't right for us, but the problem is it was and then that got screwed up because of losing jobs and a losing economy. It was supposed to be our time, and it isn't anymore and now I can't just sit with it and be happy where I am.
It is like I've been in this head first into the next thing phase for so long that I can't just sit back and be happy and settled. I want so badly to be doing what I'm supposed to be doing next. It is who I am. I am results oriented, I am driven, I go out and get it, which makes me a great employee and business woman, but is not always so great when I have to wait for the right time. The thing is I have patience, for many many things, but not for this.
How do I get back to just being in a moment and letting myself be? How do I just sit back and let things happy the way they will, not the way I want them too? There must be a flip I can switch somewhere, or is it not that easy? I have a feeling it's not.
When I'm sitting in a desk chair I'm usually leaning forward, I just realized that. Leaning in to the words, in to the computer, in to what I'm about to do next even though I haven't finished what is right in front of me.
Things are good right now. I have a husband I adore, who adores me. I have a job in an economy when they are scarce. I have my family and friends who are all healthy and happy. Things are good right now, and I need to start taking that in instead of jumping to a place where I think they might be better.
The grass is greener right below your feet.

Brick

I feel the brick in my chest. The loss is filling me again. 2 plus years and the hole doesn't feel as big day to day. It has been awhile since I've felt it this large, this looming.
Maybe it is the time of year, birthdays a day apart and all the holiday family time, maybe it is just having sent an email to a friend who's Mother died 3 weeks ago, maybe there is no explanation.
Another birthday, another year, many many more things that go unshared, untold, unexperienced together.
I want the little things back, like sharing new music, discovering new artists together.
I want the big things back, like having him walk me down the aisle and dance me away at my wedding.

And then there was 1

Every morning between 9:30 and 10:00 I hear our neighbor open his door, step outside, shut the door and then lock it up. Clearly he is going to work. Every morning I sit inside in my pajamas, either on the couch or at my computer and I think, I wish that were me.
This week started Matt's 3 month Temp gig. It got me thinking more about returning to work, what that will really feel like. It is easy to hear the sounds of it occurring, to even see it when I've been out of the apartment early, and think I want it.
Yesterday, for the first time since the wedding, I had the apartment to myself for the day. I was both lazy and productive. I went grocery shopping, I cleaned the apartment and I read and watched TV with a bowl of popcorn. It was kind of fantastic. It was almost like I was getting to enjoy this freedom (that comes with a big cost) with a fresh perspective. It almost made me think that going back to work is going to be damn hard. Almost.
When I start to think about waking up earlier, making my way to the same place daily and being productive for 8+ hours five days a week a small part of me thinks, ugh back to the grind. An even bigger part of me thinks, "yes please". I know that once back in the work force I can look back on this time and appreciate it with a new lens, I can have vacations again and not feel guilty, I can have sick days and days off and relish in laying on the couch all day. I'm ready for the shifted perspective. Even if my empty apartment is giving me limitless possibilities of how to spend my day, and it feels kind of nice.

Turn, Turn, Turn

Oh this blog. What can I say that is really that different from my last post, besides the obvious that I got married and went to Hawaii? Not much. There is a lot of change swirling around in my life right now, and it is hard for me from moment to moment to stay grounded in the happy changes that have occurred. I'm a married woman now, and it feels great. In some ways that is the smallest change in terms of adjustment because it feels so right, and brings me to exactly where I'm supposed to be.
On the plane to Hawaii I was uneasy, it wasn't because I was going to Hawaii and it wasn't because I was married, it was everything else that the wedding being over meant would come next.
After Hawaii I had to come back home and really start my job search, before Hawaii I was kind of job searching and getting lucky but mostly just finishing up details for the wedding and reveling in not having to go to work.
After Hawaii I have to figure out where to take the rest of my life, I have to start getting things in order for even bigger and better changes to come.
It is a lot, and although I'm good at change and going with the flow- the old adage is so true- it isn't easy.
Everyday is different, which is good, but everyday has moments of fear and is often filled with anxiety at what will come next. I can't think about the future too much, mostly because I work myself up thinking things like, "What if I don't have a job by then?"
But the good things are, I'm recognizing my needs. I know I have to get out of the apartment as much as I can and not let myself be tied to my desk, so I am. When I think back to the Spring I moved to NY and was looking for a job I see myself as miserable. This Spring I remember walking through the park and thinking- "why was I not here last Spring?" I was tied to my desk, and it wasn't good. I need to start moving more, the week has been a little messed up with still adjusting to the time zone difference and I'm not as energetic as I'd like to be- and damn if exercise isn't the best stress/anxiety buster that doesn't come in a bottle I don't know what is.
The best thing is, and Matt keeps reminding me of this, my personal life is great. We're married and it is thrilling and exciting and just how it should be.

With every season, right?

This doesn't mean I'm not excited to get married...

Maybe we get older and wiser as we age, as we move through life and what it puts in front of us. I think that some things remain the same and remain just as hard no matter how long you’ve been coping with them or how well you have incorporated the pain in to your life. I’ve felt for the past week or so this un-excitement about my upcoming wedding. It is not that I’m not excited to be marrying Matt, I am beyond thrilled to be formally stating my desires to spend the rest of my life with him building a family. Yet, I’ve felt something in the pit of my stomach that isn’t excitement and joy when I thought about the wedding.

At first I chalked it up to stuff happening at work. I couldn’t be excited about the wedding because I had to get through some tough things there first, and they were clouding anything else in my life.

So, I focused instead on all the little things that need to be taken care of when you are planning a wedding on your own. How many guests would be staying on property, and how did we want to set up their welcome bags? What should we buy for the children coming to the wedding to play with? What did we want to get our parents as gifts? What are some weekend activities we can plan to share in with our friends? Where should I book manicures, and hair appointments? What else can I put on my To Do list to focus on instead of what I’m really feeling about that weekend and event?

Last night I picked something to really dig in to, that not only allowed me to be distracted by what the day had brought up (lack of sleep, food and doing something that brought me one step closer to the reality of the day) it also allowed me to point my anxiety and frustration at Matt. After bickering, I climbed in to bed and pulled the covers over my head.

Matt was thoroughly confused, and because of how I’d acted assumed he did something wrong, which made him confused and frustrated. I wanted to just keep pushing it down, and him out of bed so I didn’t have to talk about it. But instead I just started crying, and finally let it all come out.

The greatest thing is that I didn’t even have to verbalize it because he knew, and he was right there, just like he’ll always be, which is why I’m marrying him. But of course I did verbalize it, because just crying doesn’t get it out, I have to talk about it too. Oh the processing I have to do.

I let myself realize and put words to the fact that I’m not that excited about celebrating my wedding because my Dad won’t be there. I want to be married to Matt, but I don’t want to celebrate without my Dad. I don’t want to walk down the aisle only on the arm of my Mother and Brother. People can say all they want about being there in spirit, but it doesn’t make it better for me. He’s not there in person, and that’s what matters.

It is a weird thing when you lose someone so suddenly, so young, and tragically. Sometimes it feels like the history and past have been erased to, because there person was gone so quickly. But when I look at pictures, and when I think about Squam and what it meant to him, and what it means to our family, I am brought right back to the fact that he was such a huge part of my life, of our life as a family. But, now he’s gone, and it is hard to incorporate his disappearance with the history of my life. So I find myself finding it even harder to think about celebrating a major life milestone without him, because he’s supposed to be there, and he won’t be, and I kind of don’t want to do it without him.

I almost envision myself walking up the aisle, and suddenly in some kind of thriller, where all the pictures have him in them again, and all the past is real and full of him and I start to get excited that he’ll appear on my arm. But he won’t, and it will be crushing, yet I’ll finally be able to understand that he was there, alive and wonderful, and he’s just not anymore. And, I just keep walking down the aisle towards a man who is here, who takes care of me, and with whom I’ll build a new family to incorporate with my lopsided one.

Fate

As we drove up to CT on Sunday, I saw horseback riders along the hutch, and then a hawk taking off into the green forest from the side of the same road. Later on 684 I spotted a car stopped by a police officer with what were either nuns or kids dressed as nuns standing outside of it. I thought, Is this drive putting on a circus for me? What will I see next? I didn't see anything, but the way the events of the day unfolded made me think about faith and free will. I thought about the difference between believing you've been put in a place for a reason, or just happening to be there. Was I put on the road on this Sunday to see all those odd events? I believed I was even more after my trip to CT was able to instead of bring my Grandmother for a nice visit with her family, bring her to see her dying sister-in-law who was brought to the ER the moment we stopped to pick my Grandmother up 30 minutes away.
My Grandmother has lost most of her sight and can't get to see her Brother and Sister-in-Law unless someone takes her, which doesn't happen often. With their ailing health, and the 3 of them being the last of a family of 7, not only did I want to bring them together, but I wanted to visit with them too, I'm a family girl.
It was supposed to be an afternoon of sitting and talking, of packing up their anniversary china that they've gifted to Matt and me. Instead, it was an afternoon sitting in the ER, watching my Great Aunt struggling to breathe through the oxygen being pushed in to her lungs. Through all that, I was so thankful that Matt and I were there to be able to bring my Grandmother to her brother. He was clearly relived she was there, and she got to feel part of helping, instead of sitting anxiously by the phone like she's done 4 times prior in the past month when one of them has been to the ER.
Later that night as Matt and I ran I talked about fate versus free will. Part of me felt like I was fated to be there, to bring my Grandmother to her Brother, like there was some higher being pulling the strings. But then when I think about losing my Dad, there was no higher reason for that, nothing good came from that, I don't believe it happened for a reason.
Matt talked about how appealing the prospect of fate is, in that it helps you take a bad situation like that afternoon and give it meaning.
And the afternoon took on even more meaning this morning when I got the call that Freda had died. Thank God, I thought as I pushed back the sadness and dressed for work, that we were there on Sunday so Bubba could see her one last time. Thank God, or whoever and whatever it is out there, if anything at all.

Hibiscus to Dad

Sometimes when I say something out of the blue, I'll follow it up with an explanation of my train of thought. I enjoy being able to trace the thought back to something concrete, to follow where my mind took me from a certain trigger to a conclusion.
Earlier this week, I was walking south on Lexington to 92nd and all of a sudden just thought, wow- my Dad is dead. I ruminated on how interesting it is that those types of thoughts will just pop in to my head from time to time, that although I think of him often and my loss, it will often just hit me that I had a Dad and now I don't.
In this instance though I decided to trace it back. I had just walked by a flower shop and saw a really lovely hibiscus tree and thought how nice it would be to have one. I chided myself thinking, there's no way I could have one because there is no good outdoor space for it. Then I concluded that the outdoor space I would think of to put it is Mom's house, and that lead me to thinking of new outdoor plants she's put in, which made me remember the hydrangea bush she got, which was after Dad died. Then there it was, my Dad is dead.
In some ways it was comforting to follow my train of thought, to watch where my mind will take me and know where triggers may lie.

My Day

The first Father's Day came a little over a month after Dad died. Bubba, Burton and a Schain family friend came to NH. It was horrible. Mom, Sammy and I were so not in the mood to be with anyone, we didn't want to be doing anything for Father's Day except ignoring it. We were miserable, Sammy was on the verge of a melt down, I wanted everyone to be happy, and Mom was just flipped out.
After they left we all went to the beach and jumped in one of the lakes in our town. It felt great to let the day slide off of us under the water, but the memories of that day still remain and they aren't good.
As I moved through the first years mourning process I read somewhere that when you've lost a parent you should celebrate yourself on the ____ Day meant to celebrate them. I liked that idea. It was a great way of ignoring the holiday, but also giving yourself some you time.
When I started my new job and found out the sister of a spa owner worked there allowing us a nice discount I decided that going to the spa would be my father's day ritual. So I went, and it was wonderful.
I'm going again today, and I've been excited for weeks.
Yesterday I got less excited because of the ripples it caused that I wouldn't be going to Queens with Matt. He's put in a hard position, and like any good relationship we are open and honest with each other so he doesn't hide anything from me. I am so grateful for that, but it makes it hard to hear why and how they are upset. I want to vent about it, but I won't, I did enough of that yesterday.
What is important to me is that I get to do something for myself today, I will not be thrust in to celebrating Father's Day when I don't want to, I don't have to be reminded that I don't have a Father to celebrate, and that the Father's in my life, while I care for them and think they are great men, aren't the one I lost and don't make up for that loss. I will celebrate them on their birthday's and other occasions. I get to have this one day to do what I want to, because it is my loss to cope with and I get to chose.

Okay, so that is a little of a vent... I told Matt last night I wish I could write him cue cards to read off of when he has to deal with these odd interventions... I so wish I really could...

Off to the spa, where all this will be exfoliated off of my skin, and my mind.

You've come a long way Baby...

The last few days I've been speculating about what this week would be like. How I would feel, how I would react to daily life with the fog of 2 years ago on my brain. Sunday was the day anniversary. Today I realized that around the same time my Dad died 2 years ago, I fell in to a conversation about death. I talked about what I think happens when you die and relayed in conversation, moments after it happened two years ago, what it was like to watch and how I had to believe that the end of my Dad's life did not mean the end of his spirit living on. He was staring at the ceiling for days, as if he saw someone, something, some people waving him along (and I don't mean in to Heaven) and just before he died he smiled at my Mom. I do believe your spirit remains. But that's a different story, the point I mean to make is that I relieved those moments on the day of with no realization of what it meant in the moment.
Tonight Mom and I talked about the week, how we're feeling and most of all how fucking far we've come. Last year was a Shit Show, no details necessary. This year we stronger, and more grounded in who we are without Dad, and who we've become as a family and as individuals without his physical presence.
It almost feels like a year is not enough time to be in such different places. I am honestly surprised when I think about last year, about being home for a week, unveiling Dad's grave, feeling like my world was crazy, resisting a vacation, resisting what I was feeling. I picture over and over getting angry at Matt and then coming in to the bedroom and just sobbing as I stared out the window, and now it's not the reason for the anger I remember its realzing that I was really angry with myself for not knowing what to do with all the sadness. I look back at various posts from last year and the experience comes flooding back to me. The feeling of going through the motions one more time.
The need to convince myself that I would enjoy a vacation. And, finally letting myself grieve and heal in a more healthy way.
Sure it would still take me many more months to understand the role I was playing wasn't the one I was cast in, but maybe last year was the beginning of that next cycle I had to go through. Now, I find myself in a place where I'm ready for what I may or may not feel, I want to let myself experience it and grieve it in a healthy way. As Mom said, we should be proud of all we've gone through and how far we've come in a short amount of time. And really, I am. That is an emotion I do feel strongly now. I feel pride at how much I've grown over the past two years, pride at how strong I can be when facing tough situations and conversations. Pride at who I am growing up to be and all I will do with my life. And what is most satisfying about remembering that during this week is knowing how proud Dad would be of me.

The Ball Hit Me

Sometimes you just need to let it out. Watching "Definitely, Maybe" a scene towards the end that would give something, granted it is an obvious outcome, away if I described it, made me cry. Hard, real, full of sadness tears, that weren't because of the movie- but because of life. The experiences I've had now connect me to story lines real and fictional on a level that if hit at a certain spot, from the right angle leave me sobbing. This is the first time I experienced it, and in the moment I didn't really know what to do with it, I was in a movie theater, I couldn't just let myself cry. So, I stopped myself, finished watching the movie and walked back out to the real world. I couldn't shake the sadness. I sat at a manicurists table and had my nails done, wishing I was home curled under blankets sobbing.
So, when I got home- that's what I did. I just let it all out, and in minutes I felt infinitely better, lighter, relieved. I was amazed at the change in mood just letting it out provided. Thinking about it more, I remembered a saying I used in college when friends and I would talk about feeling like we just needed a good cry- we were waiting for a ball to hit us in the head. The ball is that something, that little push you need to get over the edge, to give you the reason to let it all out.
I didn't want this post to come off as sad, and I'm afraid it did. My intention is to document what I experience and feel, and I guess lately much of it has been some realization of sadness in my life and how it flows through me, how I manage it and the new levels of living with it I go through.

A phone call, away

It comes in the small simple moments of everyday.
I'm standing at the counter cutting the stems off artichokes and find myself in my Davis Sq. apartment getting ready to make artichokes for my roommate and me for dinner, and I call Dad to ask him if I should steam them or boil them. He answers, saying, "Hey Cub." I never hear that anymore. I ask my question and he says he usually steams them, but makes sure he puts enough water in to withstand the amount of time they take to steam. I've cooked them that way ever since, but "ever since" doesn't seem to apply yet, it was less than two years ago, when does ever since apply?
It wasn't that long ago that he was there, just a phone call away.

What He's Missing

Lately I've been sad, but not so much sad about what I'm missing with him gone. I'm sad about what he is missing. Last night on the way home, I stared out the window of the car, letting Jerry's voice fill my mind and started making a list, and after the tears had dried and I lay in my old room that night trying to sleep I added more to the list.

The Presidential race
Snow this winter, and clear blue skies to sky under
My space and place in NYC
My place of employment
Planning my wedding
My wedding dress, and the shopping process
Cake tasting at Jacques
Sammy graduating
Movies from that last 20 months, including Miami Vice, Casino Royale, maybe some of the Hugh Grant films, Once, Juno, X Men, Fantastic 4 and many other cute/bad/action/funny movies he would have rented
Music from the last 20 months, including Radiohead, Ryan Adams, The National, Andrew Bird
TV from the last 20 months, Curb, The Wire, Weeds (I guess HBO and Show time from the last 20 months)
The Patriots perfect season
The Red Sox winning the World Series again
The Celtics, oh the Celtics
I finally learned to make my own Cappuccino (Although if he was still here I probably wouldn't have)
Running the reservoir in Central Park
Going to the Met
Exploring photography with me
His TV
Dark Chocolate M&M's
Aero Garden
Homemade fleece blankets
Making a loop from Olde Canturbury Road to Coe Farm Road on XC Skis
Nobu
Puppies
Sailing in NY
Wii
Us, all of us.

Losing Control

It’s hard work growing up, and sometimes harder still when you see someone else trying to, working at it, realizing it. And there’s nothing you can do but tell them- “It’s going to be okay- you’re going to get through this, it’s tough now but somehow you survive and come out better on the other end.”

It’s hard watching people you love make the same mistakes and worry about the same things you did, and they just have to. There isn’t anything you can do to fix that for them, you’re just not allowed to. Everyone has to live through these experiences to get to the next level, to grow up, to wisen up, to mature.

I want to reach out and just make it better, but I can just be here and remind him of that, a couple of times at least, because you know those 21 year Male brains can’t hold on to that much.

I had an epiphany the other day, that I need to stop trying to control everything around me all the time. It was only while having the epiphany that I started to realize how much I really am trying to control things, all the time. And I have to change that, I have to step back and let things happen how they will, I can’t always have my hand on each wheel making sure we are on the path I want to be on. Sometimes I have to let go and just sit back, and know that however it turns out, big and small, I’ll be okay.

I believe it is a fall out from loss and grieving that has made me try to control the world around me even more tightly. I lost and that means I didn’t have control, I don’t have control and that fear becomes the drive, passion, the lust for it back. And as I started to fully grieve again more recently I tried harder to grasp on to what I could and tightly control it. But I realized, during said epiphany that losing is partially hard because you realize what you don’t have control over- and when things don’t go the way you’ve tried to force them to go disappoint is paramount. If I keep trying to tightly control everything I can, won’t I just grieve that much harder when things don’t go my way? Aren’t I just pushing back the grief and filling the space with the obsession with control? If I’m going to truly process and move to whatever next step there is, don’t I have to try and let myself give in to the lack of control? To honor and recognize that there are many things you can control and while there are things you can, most times you shouldn’t try too hard to control everything, especially the little things like your Fiancée making dinner plans with his parents that get you home later than you had planned for, because when you let go and let things happen how they will sometimes you find that everyone around you is happier, because they are all getting a say too.

Now I’m recognizing all the things I’ve been trying to control, now I can stop myself. I found myself calling out, “Yes!” when the JP at Jen’s rehearsal stood where I wanted him too (Other people had suggested he stand there) and my friends turned and laughed at me. “Oh, I’m sorry,” I said as I put my hand over my mouth and through my mind ran the words, “I’m crazy!” There was a woman at the rehearsal that kept calling out to the JP and telling him what to do, we talked about who we thought she was and one friend said, “Adrienne she’s you when you get older.” “You’re right,” I said although I wanted to deny it. But I can change that now. I don’t want to see myself as growing up to become a controlling woman who can’t keep her desire to make things ‘just so’ to herself. I want to give great ideas when they’re asked for, and be in just enough control to be successful and balanced. But I’m not balanced now, too much control doesn’t allow for that, or too much attempt at control. I’m getting there though.

Being able to sit back and watch and help when I can, and when it makes sense, as my little brother grows up in the way he needs to is a good step in that direction.