I am quickly finding that when you carry yourself in such a way that aims to demonstrate you alone can walk through fire and come out seemingly unaffected, you've enabled those around you to forget you've just walked through the heart of the flames. I find myself spinning in downward circles, extinguishing it in the shadows.
Its the holiday season and I normally love this time of year. I cant find one thing Id like to smile about this season. I don't mean to be glum. I hate being 'down' if you will. But I cant help it god damn it. I find myself numb, staring into nothingness - again. A place a promised myself I would never revisit. Even I apparently am not invincible, although I often like to think so. Again, the reasons for my personal fire fighting company. I should have an entire unit complete with red engine trucks and one of those poles they slide down. Some days I wish I had an entire army. At least sometimes it feels like it could take that much to make life make sense again.
Has it really been six months since you've gone? It cant be. Is it really December? How did I miss summer? and fall? In my head I'm still living in 2008. That much time couldn't have gone by since this awful chapter began. I feel like I woke up from some awful nightmare only Ive lost a year. And I'm living somewhere else. And I have all new people in my life. And when I wake up it will all be back the way it was. Somewhere inside I know this is all crap and completely delusional.
I just had a personal Revelation while writing this. I always rationalize my not speaking about anything that happened to me because others cant take it, but as I'm sitting here alone with nothing but myself and the keys on the computer I am finding - it is me who can not bare the thought of it all.
I haven't eaten since lunch, yesterday. This is unusual as of late. Well, I go through stages. I want to eat everything in sight. I can not get enough and this happens for a few weeks. And then its like a switch goes off. And Ill look at the clock and realize its time for bed and think back realize I haven't eaten anything in two days. Its like I loose time. It just passes over me.
I just started searching flights to Italy. I need to get away.
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
It could take my whole life to make this right.
Ive been running at 100mph for quite some time now and I think my little gas tank is starting to tucker out. I need to refuel.
I have twenty things on my mind, all the time. I worry about those people that I love, all the time. I cant stand the thought of something happening to them, I couldn't bare it. The thought of something happening to one of my brothers could bring me to tears at any point of the day and in all honesty it frequently does. I think I baby my little brother too much, but hes the only link to sanity that Ive got most days. Hes my little bear. I'm sure he hates me calling him that. I don't know who I am anymore with out him, I feel like hes my son. And I'm okay with that. I'm really okay with that.
He had court the other day, I wont get into details - that's his business. I knew it was going to get continued, but the whole time I was fighting back tears with the thought of what might happen. The possibility petrifies me. I love that kid with everything I am. I have a huge family but from my immediate family hes all I have left. I wonder often if he has any clue how much I need him, because I do. I need him. Every piece of my soul needs him.
Most days I just pray for more strength. To figure out a way to get through the day. I literally only take one day at a time. It is entirely too overwhelming if I have to think about everything I must eventually get done or everything I must endure in my future. Some days I just wish my life could be normal. That I could live carefree like every other 23 year old. I look at my friends and sometimes envy their innocence. How simple their lives are. There is nothing more to it than that single moment they are living in. And then I wake up and remind myself that while they are carefree and innocent I am better prepared for life and will be better off in the long run, and then I really try to make myself believe that crap.
Im experiencing some of the most amazing things, huge mile stones and I wish they were here to share these moments with me. And then I remember that the reason I am able to do many of these things is because they arent here. Hello, guilt. This is so bittersweet.
I found a piece of paper in my purse today. It was the contact information for a Duke nurse. And immediately I could see her face, and I could see her writing it down and I could see my Dad handing her the pen to write it and I could remember him joking with her and I could see him smile and I could see the light come through the few thin hairs on the top of his bald head and I could remember how pain sakingly tired I was and how we were waiting for the doctor to come back and how my Dad had just broken down moments before crying to me about how tragic this all was, telling me how proud he was of me and then she walked in and how badly, how desperately I wanted that moment back. All from touching a piece of paper. And then I started crying right there on the spot at my desk at work.
This is too hard to do right now. I have a hole in my heart that I know will never go away or get any smaller and Im just not ready to admit that to myself yet.
I have twenty things on my mind, all the time. I worry about those people that I love, all the time. I cant stand the thought of something happening to them, I couldn't bare it. The thought of something happening to one of my brothers could bring me to tears at any point of the day and in all honesty it frequently does. I think I baby my little brother too much, but hes the only link to sanity that Ive got most days. Hes my little bear. I'm sure he hates me calling him that. I don't know who I am anymore with out him, I feel like hes my son. And I'm okay with that. I'm really okay with that.
He had court the other day, I wont get into details - that's his business. I knew it was going to get continued, but the whole time I was fighting back tears with the thought of what might happen. The possibility petrifies me. I love that kid with everything I am. I have a huge family but from my immediate family hes all I have left. I wonder often if he has any clue how much I need him, because I do. I need him. Every piece of my soul needs him.
Most days I just pray for more strength. To figure out a way to get through the day. I literally only take one day at a time. It is entirely too overwhelming if I have to think about everything I must eventually get done or everything I must endure in my future. Some days I just wish my life could be normal. That I could live carefree like every other 23 year old. I look at my friends and sometimes envy their innocence. How simple their lives are. There is nothing more to it than that single moment they are living in. And then I wake up and remind myself that while they are carefree and innocent I am better prepared for life and will be better off in the long run, and then I really try to make myself believe that crap.
Im experiencing some of the most amazing things, huge mile stones and I wish they were here to share these moments with me. And then I remember that the reason I am able to do many of these things is because they arent here. Hello, guilt. This is so bittersweet.
I found a piece of paper in my purse today. It was the contact information for a Duke nurse. And immediately I could see her face, and I could see her writing it down and I could see my Dad handing her the pen to write it and I could remember him joking with her and I could see him smile and I could see the light come through the few thin hairs on the top of his bald head and I could remember how pain sakingly tired I was and how we were waiting for the doctor to come back and how my Dad had just broken down moments before crying to me about how tragic this all was, telling me how proud he was of me and then she walked in and how badly, how desperately I wanted that moment back. All from touching a piece of paper. And then I started crying right there on the spot at my desk at work.
This is too hard to do right now. I have a hole in my heart that I know will never go away or get any smaller and Im just not ready to admit that to myself yet.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Redefining Normal.
Wow. How quickly life changes. Is it really July? Tomorrow is my birthday. I keep forgetting that it is. I keep making plans for meetings and creating a to-do list for Monday. My friends keep reminding me its ok to slow down a bit. I'm just so scatter-brained now. I never sleep, I'm a freaking insomniac. Seriously. What to do now? What to do after that? In all honesty I think I'm just keeping busy to keep from thinking about what just happened in my life. I was orphaned at twenty-two. It hurts just to type that out.
What do I do now? I moved home and made my entire life taking care of him. Every waking second since December has been about catering to his needs. What do I do with my days now? What is normal now? I have no idea. Ive spent the majority of the past five years of my life on the 9300 wing at Duke hospital. I know almost all the Oncology nurses and they know me, by name. I find myself wanting to drive to Duke and just walk around. That's where home is to me. Like somehow the wing that crushed my life could offer me some answers, give me peace. I want to get lunch in the cafeteria, walk around in the courtyard on my cell phone relaying news, sit in a waiting room, sneeze into a face mask, sift through CT scan images. There were so many sleepless nights, straining in my uncomfortable chair pretending I didn't have a crick in my neck and arm just to not have to let go of his hand while he slept and constantly looking up to make sure he was still breathing, the way a mother does to an infant. Many 4am trips to get coffee in an effort to be able to perhaps think when the doctor strolled in with news around 6am so that I could make sound decisions. That is my normal. I desperately want it back.
I don't talk about what I went through, to anyone. I don't even know how I made it out alive. I don't know how I am standing here now the way I am. How the weight of the world hasn't crushed me yet. I don't talk about it mostly because no one understands. Its incomprehensible for people. Its too raw, too heart breaking. I cant get to the root of the issues. I bring grown men to tears. Id spoon feed my father, empty his catheter bag and meet friends at the bar for drinks throw on a smile and never say a word. I tried to create an illusion that I lived like a normal twenty two year old too. I have difficulty relating to many of my friends now. Life experience bumped me up a few age brackets. I find I have more to talk about with my friends parents now.
I have found such great peace through this whole experience though. I have no regrets. I would do it all again exactly the same way. I miss my parents terribly, I always will. I want more than anything to crawl into my Daddy's lap have him kiss my forehead and tell me it will all be okay. I am just happy he is not in pain anymore. It was more heart wrenching taking care of him and watching him struggle. I find huge comfort in knowing my parents are together again.
No more for now. It is too heart wrenching for me too.
What do I do now? I moved home and made my entire life taking care of him. Every waking second since December has been about catering to his needs. What do I do with my days now? What is normal now? I have no idea. Ive spent the majority of the past five years of my life on the 9300 wing at Duke hospital. I know almost all the Oncology nurses and they know me, by name. I find myself wanting to drive to Duke and just walk around. That's where home is to me. Like somehow the wing that crushed my life could offer me some answers, give me peace. I want to get lunch in the cafeteria, walk around in the courtyard on my cell phone relaying news, sit in a waiting room, sneeze into a face mask, sift through CT scan images. There were so many sleepless nights, straining in my uncomfortable chair pretending I didn't have a crick in my neck and arm just to not have to let go of his hand while he slept and constantly looking up to make sure he was still breathing, the way a mother does to an infant. Many 4am trips to get coffee in an effort to be able to perhaps think when the doctor strolled in with news around 6am so that I could make sound decisions. That is my normal. I desperately want it back.
I don't talk about what I went through, to anyone. I don't even know how I made it out alive. I don't know how I am standing here now the way I am. How the weight of the world hasn't crushed me yet. I don't talk about it mostly because no one understands. Its incomprehensible for people. Its too raw, too heart breaking. I cant get to the root of the issues. I bring grown men to tears. Id spoon feed my father, empty his catheter bag and meet friends at the bar for drinks throw on a smile and never say a word. I tried to create an illusion that I lived like a normal twenty two year old too. I have difficulty relating to many of my friends now. Life experience bumped me up a few age brackets. I find I have more to talk about with my friends parents now.
I have found such great peace through this whole experience though. I have no regrets. I would do it all again exactly the same way. I miss my parents terribly, I always will. I want more than anything to crawl into my Daddy's lap have him kiss my forehead and tell me it will all be okay. I am just happy he is not in pain anymore. It was more heart wrenching taking care of him and watching him struggle. I find huge comfort in knowing my parents are together again.
No more for now. It is too heart wrenching for me too.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
transcending the obstacle
Ive been avoiding my blog for some time, like the plague. So much has happened. I blog because for me its a release. Its everything that I cant say or wont say. Its a tunnel for every thought I have been churning my way through however big or small.
I'm scared. This is really happening and I'm scared. I want to erase it all. I want to take his pain away, I want to take my brothers pain away, I want to take my pain away. I want to be able to create a spreadsheet in excel, work my way through the problem and fix it. I have a problem and I need the solution. This is the way my mind works. Two plus two equals four.
I'm learning that it is only with matters of the mind that two and two can ever equal four. When it comes to matters of the heart there is no reason, no rhyme, no rhythm. There is no formula, no code, no way to make sense of it really. It has been very difficult for my pragmatic mind to let go of this. To stop searching for answers. There are none. There is no question 'why?' Letting go of this has made my life so much easier. Less complicated. Stop trying to rationalize what is happening to you. Whatever will be, will be. My mother used to always say that.
Life can certainly be unfair. But there is no reason why some people and some families have awful things happen to them and why some are blessed and do not. I used to look down on these people at one time. They have no idea how hard life is, poor bastards. Naive little shitheads have no clue what is in store for them. Now I'm just happy for them that they don't. How beautiful to be able to hang onto your innocence.
When I stopped asking myself how come? Why me? Why now? Why us? This is when I really began to live. It is an almost certainty that you will drive yourself crazy if you wrap your sanity and your entire being around the answers to these. Your heart very quickly will harden and become bitter.
I look back on my life and I have no clue who the girl I used to be is. I don't know that girl anymore. I'm glad I have lost sight of her. I am now the person I always wanted to be, always saw myself as being capable of in my own head. I lived my life in a turtle shell. Only popping my head out occasionally to see what was around. I was cold, completely shut off. I was mean and used words to intentionally cut people. I was certain everyone was out to get me and I was hellbent on winning, so I would hurt them first. I ran away from any relationship that had any depth. The feeling of closeness to any one person petrified me. I couldn't cry. I just didn't. Even if I wanted to. I couldn't connect with that part of my inner being. In the rare event that I was discussing anything about myself with another I couldn't look them in the eyes, and they couldn't touch me. Those were the rules. I would stiffen up, every muscle becoming tense if someone touched me. It made me uncomfortable. I couldn't say 'I love you' to anyone. My heart was solid and my soul petrified.
I'm not sure of the exact day when I took my heart off the ice block I had it sitting on. It was certainly a gradual process, its still a work in process. Undoubtedly my biggest eye opener was loosing my mother. That catastrophic event in my life forced me to look in the mirror. Once she was gone, I had a million emotions that had been stirred up. Suddenly I had a tornado of different thoughts and feelings that I had to try to make sense of. When I couldn't make sense of them is when I turned to the tequila. Which is when I lost myself. I didn't know how to feel, or hope or love. When I lost the most important woman in my life I was forced to feel and that I didn't know how to do. That I did not want to know how to do.
Then my dad got sick and I thought I would surely crumble. I was certain I would. I was sad at first, for a while. I drank a lot. And then I literally made the decision not to allow myself to be sad anymore. It was at the end of February, I had been living at home for a few weeks. It was after my fathers second chemo treatment didn't work and we looked at the CT scan and saw that his tumors were simply everywhere. On the hour drive home I was heartbroken, we just rode in silence. When we went home I got my dad settled and then took a shower. I got in, grabbed the wall and immediately collapsed down to my knees. As the water ran over me I allowed my heart to cry. It was the kind of cry that runs so deep that no sound comes out. With both hands on my head, rocking back and forth I finally allowed myself to connect with my fears. I sat there for quite some time. I sat there long after I stopped crying. I was reeling from the fact I was capable of that sort of release. I had never cried for more than a few seconds at a time, sober. I felt alive for the first time in a long time, maybe ever. After some time I got myself up, got dressed and made dinner. When I went to bed that night I made the decision to make a change in my life. I made the decision to be in the drivers seat of my own life. To experience it in all its beauty and despair. I had shed my old being with the person I would become. I made the decision to transcend my obstacles and just live.
I'm scared. This is really happening and I'm scared. I want to erase it all. I want to take his pain away, I want to take my brothers pain away, I want to take my pain away. I want to be able to create a spreadsheet in excel, work my way through the problem and fix it. I have a problem and I need the solution. This is the way my mind works. Two plus two equals four.
I'm learning that it is only with matters of the mind that two and two can ever equal four. When it comes to matters of the heart there is no reason, no rhyme, no rhythm. There is no formula, no code, no way to make sense of it really. It has been very difficult for my pragmatic mind to let go of this. To stop searching for answers. There are none. There is no question 'why?' Letting go of this has made my life so much easier. Less complicated. Stop trying to rationalize what is happening to you. Whatever will be, will be. My mother used to always say that.
Life can certainly be unfair. But there is no reason why some people and some families have awful things happen to them and why some are blessed and do not. I used to look down on these people at one time. They have no idea how hard life is, poor bastards. Naive little shitheads have no clue what is in store for them. Now I'm just happy for them that they don't. How beautiful to be able to hang onto your innocence.
When I stopped asking myself how come? Why me? Why now? Why us? This is when I really began to live. It is an almost certainty that you will drive yourself crazy if you wrap your sanity and your entire being around the answers to these. Your heart very quickly will harden and become bitter.
I look back on my life and I have no clue who the girl I used to be is. I don't know that girl anymore. I'm glad I have lost sight of her. I am now the person I always wanted to be, always saw myself as being capable of in my own head. I lived my life in a turtle shell. Only popping my head out occasionally to see what was around. I was cold, completely shut off. I was mean and used words to intentionally cut people. I was certain everyone was out to get me and I was hellbent on winning, so I would hurt them first. I ran away from any relationship that had any depth. The feeling of closeness to any one person petrified me. I couldn't cry. I just didn't. Even if I wanted to. I couldn't connect with that part of my inner being. In the rare event that I was discussing anything about myself with another I couldn't look them in the eyes, and they couldn't touch me. Those were the rules. I would stiffen up, every muscle becoming tense if someone touched me. It made me uncomfortable. I couldn't say 'I love you' to anyone. My heart was solid and my soul petrified.
I'm not sure of the exact day when I took my heart off the ice block I had it sitting on. It was certainly a gradual process, its still a work in process. Undoubtedly my biggest eye opener was loosing my mother. That catastrophic event in my life forced me to look in the mirror. Once she was gone, I had a million emotions that had been stirred up. Suddenly I had a tornado of different thoughts and feelings that I had to try to make sense of. When I couldn't make sense of them is when I turned to the tequila. Which is when I lost myself. I didn't know how to feel, or hope or love. When I lost the most important woman in my life I was forced to feel and that I didn't know how to do. That I did not want to know how to do.
Then my dad got sick and I thought I would surely crumble. I was certain I would. I was sad at first, for a while. I drank a lot. And then I literally made the decision not to allow myself to be sad anymore. It was at the end of February, I had been living at home for a few weeks. It was after my fathers second chemo treatment didn't work and we looked at the CT scan and saw that his tumors were simply everywhere. On the hour drive home I was heartbroken, we just rode in silence. When we went home I got my dad settled and then took a shower. I got in, grabbed the wall and immediately collapsed down to my knees. As the water ran over me I allowed my heart to cry. It was the kind of cry that runs so deep that no sound comes out. With both hands on my head, rocking back and forth I finally allowed myself to connect with my fears. I sat there for quite some time. I sat there long after I stopped crying. I was reeling from the fact I was capable of that sort of release. I had never cried for more than a few seconds at a time, sober. I felt alive for the first time in a long time, maybe ever. After some time I got myself up, got dressed and made dinner. When I went to bed that night I made the decision to make a change in my life. I made the decision to be in the drivers seat of my own life. To experience it in all its beauty and despair. I had shed my old being with the person I would become. I made the decision to transcend my obstacles and just live.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
delivered from the heart
Ive had a lot of people ask me wheres the friggin video of the speech? Where can I see what you did? Its almost funny how now a days its expected that you have some form of internet communication. What a small world we have become. Truth is battery on my camera died on night one of my florida trip and while I brought my charger, I failed to bring the european outlet converter (I bought it in Switerland). And Ill be honest, I wasnt that upset I had forgotten it. I was scared. The whole thing freaked me out. What if I sucked and then I would have this video everyone wanted to see. I couldve easily gone to the store to get a new converter, but I was in no hurry. Well, now I wish I had damnit. Was it perfect? Not by a long shot. But it was honest, it was heartfelt, it was undoubtedly real.
I was proud of myself. That was hard to do. I anticipated its difficulty but it proved to be more difficult than I originally thought. Putting everything that is close to your heart out there for people to either love or hate. Afterward my cousin Kenn said he had never seen anything like that before. He said there were those standing next to him wiping tears from their faces, people whom I'd never met and how rare it be able to affect people like that. He said it was almost magical.
The part I really had not thought about was what I would do after. I am typically a pretty private person. I have a few that I am an open book with, but these people are few and far betweeen. Afterward recieving hugs from people with red eyes whom Id never met, who obviously felt close to me since I had just shared my life story was ...odd for me. Akward even. But it was for a good cause and if I inspired even one person to get involved and raise money for the ACS, then my job was done. That was why I did it. That was the only reason I did it infact.
So per request here is what I said:
When I was first asked to speak here tonight, I immediately jumped at the chance. I then put off writing what I would say until earlier this week. I knew that if I was going to say something that could mean anything to any of you, if I wanted to hit your hearts, I was going to have to hit the core of my own first. I wasn’t sure I was ready to open pandoras box to reconnect with all my hopes and fears. I knew delivering this would be a rocky and honest road for me.
My mother was diagnosed with stage four sarcoma cancer just after my eighteenth birthday. She knew from its onset that her prognosis was bleak. She fought through several surgeries, chemo treatments, and radiation. Procedures no one here is foreign to. After a courageous year and a half battle her body had finally succumb to the faceless monster that is cancer. There is not a day that has passed that I don’t miss her. It will be three years this August and for any of you that have lost someone close to you know that wounds like this never heal, the whole in your heart never seems to get any smaller, it just gets - different. You learn to make your pain part of your everyday and your loss becomes apart of you.
I owe everything I am to my mother. She had a heart of gold. She seemed to touch every life she came in contact with. She was just an all around good person, a good mother. She knew that fine innate line of when to hold a childs hand and when to let go and allow them to fall. I can remember hundreds of lessons that she forced me to learn the hard way. Undoubtedly the biggest lesson she taught me was in her final days when she taught me courage. She never forgot to greet each day with a smile, something so rare in this day and age. I cant begin to imagine what it could feel like to know you’ll never watch your children grow up, attend their weddings, or meet your grandchildren. To know you wont be apart of their futures and still have the strength and courage to smile. She uplifts and inspires me daily. I will consider myself lucky if I can become half of the woman she was.
After my mother passed I found myself completely lost and directionless. I was so grief stricken. I found it difficult to accomplish almost anything productive. I found myself taking full advantage of ‘college life’ and all it had to offer. I ended most nights somewhere at the bottom of a tequila bottle, feeling utterly sorry for myself. This carried on for the better part of two years.
Until I got the second phone call I always knew that I never wanted. This past August on the two year anniversary of my mothers passing, my father was also diagnosed with stage four sarcoma cancer, a one in one hundred million probability of both of them being diagnosed with such a rare & aggressive cancer. I almost fainted when I heard the doctor utter those shattering words. I felt like my life force had been sucked out of me, again. In that instant I made the decision to transfer universities and move back home to be a foot solider in his care. I am now his primary care giver. And In this process, a funny thing happened. He saved me. He saved me in every way a person can be saved. He simply brought me back to life.
Every obstacle I thought life once held for me, I realized were all walls I built for myself. I existed in my own prison doing a sentence only I had cast upon myself. He in his own right made me see that. He has that rare zest for living. An eternal quest to never give in, never give up no matter how hard life has tried to knock you down. He has such a positive attitude on life and a natural wisdom about him. I am so thankful to be in his presence and determined to soak up every second.
He refers to all of his radiation treatments as suntans, and how hes just trying to get ready for summer. He calls his chemo room Peters Party Palace and tells the nurses that hes come to get his ‘gin and tonic cocktail’. He always jokes that 50 cent and lil kim will be showing up any minute, as he shamelessly flirts with the nurses a third his age. He never fails to inform all the hospital attendants there has obviously been a mix up in the kitchen because he checked the box for the lobster dinner and champagne and this meatloaf extravaganza in front of him was not what he requested. He is my hero.
In the wake of losing my mother, I was given my father. That was her final gift to me. I feel so lucky to have the people in my life that I do. They have all been such gifts. Such beacons of love and generosity in the purest of forms that I cant even begin to allow myself to stay upset for more than a minute over life’s twisted web. I have experienced more love to last me a lifetime. More than many get in a lifetime, I’m sure. And I am so eternally grateful for it.
There is something that is so soul shattering about watching those you care most for suffer and then feeling utterly helpless. The most debilitating thing about cancer is that your life becomes so up in the air, your world always seems to be sitting on the next Ct scan. Relay has given me the unique opportunity to pull the reigns back in, to take control, to fight back. The completely unexpected gifts from those reaching out can baffle a person. The true altruism I have witnessed still leaves me in complete awe. It makes me strive to be better, to be stronger, to do more, to be bolder, to be more grateful, to love deeper. You never know what you are really capable of until you stand up and try. To never allow the fear of failure to hold you back. It took me a long time to that figure out. And I have my parents and Relay to thank for it. Cancer can consume your life if you allow it to, I commend all of you for making the decision not to allow it to by being here tonight.
Cancer never discriminates. She knows no race, no creed, no color, nor income bracket. She affects us all alike. As I sit in the many waiting rooms I try to make conversation with the many diverse faces I see day in and day out . I have found more passion for life in the eyes of these people than I have ever found elsewhere, and I see it everywhere here tonight. People that feel blessed to wake up for one more day. They all get that ‘it’ about life. What makes a life significant and worth carrying on for. When you know what struggle looks like through having to stare down your deepest fears, you know what triumph can feel like. Hope finds new meaning when the weight of your world and all of your everythings rest on a single test. To have every fiber of your consciousness wait on one result. Hope and optimism are undoubtedly where the struggle is. When you have experienced this and still make the choice to stand here today and fight, to have faith in life, to find the fortitude to wake up and greet your day unabashed and unafraid despite whatever it may bring. To me, this is nothing short of a miracle. Thank you.
I was proud of myself. That was hard to do. I anticipated its difficulty but it proved to be more difficult than I originally thought. Putting everything that is close to your heart out there for people to either love or hate. Afterward my cousin Kenn said he had never seen anything like that before. He said there were those standing next to him wiping tears from their faces, people whom I'd never met and how rare it be able to affect people like that. He said it was almost magical.
The part I really had not thought about was what I would do after. I am typically a pretty private person. I have a few that I am an open book with, but these people are few and far betweeen. Afterward recieving hugs from people with red eyes whom Id never met, who obviously felt close to me since I had just shared my life story was ...odd for me. Akward even. But it was for a good cause and if I inspired even one person to get involved and raise money for the ACS, then my job was done. That was why I did it. That was the only reason I did it infact.
So per request here is what I said:
When I was first asked to speak here tonight, I immediately jumped at the chance. I then put off writing what I would say until earlier this week. I knew that if I was going to say something that could mean anything to any of you, if I wanted to hit your hearts, I was going to have to hit the core of my own first. I wasn’t sure I was ready to open pandoras box to reconnect with all my hopes and fears. I knew delivering this would be a rocky and honest road for me.
My mother was diagnosed with stage four sarcoma cancer just after my eighteenth birthday. She knew from its onset that her prognosis was bleak. She fought through several surgeries, chemo treatments, and radiation. Procedures no one here is foreign to. After a courageous year and a half battle her body had finally succumb to the faceless monster that is cancer. There is not a day that has passed that I don’t miss her. It will be three years this August and for any of you that have lost someone close to you know that wounds like this never heal, the whole in your heart never seems to get any smaller, it just gets - different. You learn to make your pain part of your everyday and your loss becomes apart of you.
I owe everything I am to my mother. She had a heart of gold. She seemed to touch every life she came in contact with. She was just an all around good person, a good mother. She knew that fine innate line of when to hold a childs hand and when to let go and allow them to fall. I can remember hundreds of lessons that she forced me to learn the hard way. Undoubtedly the biggest lesson she taught me was in her final days when she taught me courage. She never forgot to greet each day with a smile, something so rare in this day and age. I cant begin to imagine what it could feel like to know you’ll never watch your children grow up, attend their weddings, or meet your grandchildren. To know you wont be apart of their futures and still have the strength and courage to smile. She uplifts and inspires me daily. I will consider myself lucky if I can become half of the woman she was.
After my mother passed I found myself completely lost and directionless. I was so grief stricken. I found it difficult to accomplish almost anything productive. I found myself taking full advantage of ‘college life’ and all it had to offer. I ended most nights somewhere at the bottom of a tequila bottle, feeling utterly sorry for myself. This carried on for the better part of two years.
Until I got the second phone call I always knew that I never wanted. This past August on the two year anniversary of my mothers passing, my father was also diagnosed with stage four sarcoma cancer, a one in one hundred million probability of both of them being diagnosed with such a rare & aggressive cancer. I almost fainted when I heard the doctor utter those shattering words. I felt like my life force had been sucked out of me, again. In that instant I made the decision to transfer universities and move back home to be a foot solider in his care. I am now his primary care giver. And In this process, a funny thing happened. He saved me. He saved me in every way a person can be saved. He simply brought me back to life.
Every obstacle I thought life once held for me, I realized were all walls I built for myself. I existed in my own prison doing a sentence only I had cast upon myself. He in his own right made me see that. He has that rare zest for living. An eternal quest to never give in, never give up no matter how hard life has tried to knock you down. He has such a positive attitude on life and a natural wisdom about him. I am so thankful to be in his presence and determined to soak up every second.
He refers to all of his radiation treatments as suntans, and how hes just trying to get ready for summer. He calls his chemo room Peters Party Palace and tells the nurses that hes come to get his ‘gin and tonic cocktail’. He always jokes that 50 cent and lil kim will be showing up any minute, as he shamelessly flirts with the nurses a third his age. He never fails to inform all the hospital attendants there has obviously been a mix up in the kitchen because he checked the box for the lobster dinner and champagne and this meatloaf extravaganza in front of him was not what he requested. He is my hero.
In the wake of losing my mother, I was given my father. That was her final gift to me. I feel so lucky to have the people in my life that I do. They have all been such gifts. Such beacons of love and generosity in the purest of forms that I cant even begin to allow myself to stay upset for more than a minute over life’s twisted web. I have experienced more love to last me a lifetime. More than many get in a lifetime, I’m sure. And I am so eternally grateful for it.
There is something that is so soul shattering about watching those you care most for suffer and then feeling utterly helpless. The most debilitating thing about cancer is that your life becomes so up in the air, your world always seems to be sitting on the next Ct scan. Relay has given me the unique opportunity to pull the reigns back in, to take control, to fight back. The completely unexpected gifts from those reaching out can baffle a person. The true altruism I have witnessed still leaves me in complete awe. It makes me strive to be better, to be stronger, to do more, to be bolder, to be more grateful, to love deeper. You never know what you are really capable of until you stand up and try. To never allow the fear of failure to hold you back. It took me a long time to that figure out. And I have my parents and Relay to thank for it. Cancer can consume your life if you allow it to, I commend all of you for making the decision not to allow it to by being here tonight.
Cancer never discriminates. She knows no race, no creed, no color, nor income bracket. She affects us all alike. As I sit in the many waiting rooms I try to make conversation with the many diverse faces I see day in and day out . I have found more passion for life in the eyes of these people than I have ever found elsewhere, and I see it everywhere here tonight. People that feel blessed to wake up for one more day. They all get that ‘it’ about life. What makes a life significant and worth carrying on for. When you know what struggle looks like through having to stare down your deepest fears, you know what triumph can feel like. Hope finds new meaning when the weight of your world and all of your everythings rest on a single test. To have every fiber of your consciousness wait on one result. Hope and optimism are undoubtedly where the struggle is. When you have experienced this and still make the choice to stand here today and fight, to have faith in life, to find the fortitude to wake up and greet your day unabashed and unafraid despite whatever it may bring. To me, this is nothing short of a miracle. Thank you.
as per the urban dictionary..
Alpha Female: An Alpha Female is a dominant female in a group. She dates as many males as she wants, is strong and confident, and a hard worker as well as often busy. She is usually sarcastic because she's powerful and playful. Alpha Females are intelligent, intellectual problem solvers; and though being an alpha female is more of a state of mind than a physicality, an alpha understands that dressing up or sexy increases her power in society, so she does it. Alpha Females are often terribly misunderstood by Beta and lesser males, and when this happens, she's called a bitch. Alpha Females prefer passion over romance, although if it's romance coming from an Alpha Male, a hootttttt one, that's another story...
John liked Kate. Kate liked John. At the party, John asked Kate to sit on his lap, she smiled and sat next to him instead because she wanted to be equal and not objectified. John realized she was an alpha female.
I simply love this. Perhaps a bit self indulgent? Certainly. But as a self proclaimed alpha, that is my way.
John liked Kate. Kate liked John. At the party, John asked Kate to sit on his lap, she smiled and sat next to him instead because she wanted to be equal and not objectified. John realized she was an alpha female.
I simply love this. Perhaps a bit self indulgent? Certainly. But as a self proclaimed alpha, that is my way.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Finding Fortitude
....So I imported my blog from myspace, and added the dates from which I wrote them to get me started :)
March 14, 2009
The past few months I have been so beside myself. I am surrounded by the best group of friends and family a girl could ever hope for. Real people. The most genuine of genuine. The kind of people that you know ten years from now you'll be having phone conversations with as we yell at our munchkins to shut the hell up while mom's on the phone, and thirty years from now well be sitting on a beach reminiscing about the 'old days' with our Patron margaritas in hand. There isn’t a bone in my body that doubts it.
How can I be so sure? People's true colors come out when the road gets rough. You know who your friends are by their willingness to stand up when the easy thing to do is to sit back, cower away in a corner and wait until the storm passes. And I won’t lie, I have been hurt in part by some of my friends eagerness to run away from me, their inability to keep in contact. Do I fault them for it? No. My life is intense, my life is really intense. What I live is incomprehensible for some and makes them look their own immortality and fears in the face which can be too much for some - the thought that this too will one day be their fate. I can see in their eyes that I scare the crap out of them. They aren’t ready. And that’s okay. Does it hurt that I cant talk about my life because you aren't strong enough or ready to sit through the conversation? Of course. I don’t want to sit through half of the conversations I have to have on a daily basis either. What defines ready anyway? I’m sure not. How could one be? Life doesn’t give you a prep class for these types of obstacles. My dad and I talked today about who should walk me down the isle of my wedding, since he wont be there. There is no way to prepare for this, it just happens and you make the decision to get up and keep existing.
But then, there are people in my life that have been such gifts. Such beacons of love and generosity in the purest of forms that I cant even allow myself to stay upset for more than a minute over being wronged by others, or what is happening in my life in general. I have experienced more love in the past few months to last me a lifetime. More than many get in a lifetime, I’m sure. I am eternally grateful. I halfway want to talk specifically about the people in my life that have truly been godsends and give them recognition for the amazing things they have done and how much they have meant to me and to my family. But you know who you are and you know what you have done and I don’t wish to make those not mentioned that will read this feel insignificant, because you are not. But thank you, thank you to all of you who have been there for me in any degree. None of it goes unnoticed.
I have participated in Relay for Life for many years and each year I become a little bit more humbled. The completely unexpected gifts from those whom I haven’t spoken to in years, from people whom I have wronged and still reach out can just baffle a person. In two weeks I’m sitting at $1500. That is phenomenal, especially since I have yet to put on any of my events and no one in my family has donated yet. This has been done so far sheerly through facebook. If you don’t believe in miracles, your crazy because I’m living one. The true altruism I have witnessed just leaves me in awe. I have people practically throwing themselves at me to help in any way possible. It has been so validating for me, and so validating for my father. When you can see your worth and the impact you leave on the world and others it gives you a great sense of value. It makes me strive to be better, to be stronger, to do more, to be bolder, to be more grateful, to love deeper. You never know what you are really capable of until you stand up and try. Don’t let the fear of failure hold you back. I did that for so many years. The only true way you can fail is by never getting up off your ass and trying. That took me a long time to figure out. I have always been a perfectionist. Which I have come to realize is a great weakness. To strive for perfection is to strive for the unattainable. Aim high, but aim reasonable. Its much more fulfilling.
Anyway, I guess what I am trying to say through my yet again endless ramblings (again on pain meds) is that I am so thankful. It is only when you know how truly short life can be that you begin to cherish it for all of the gifts it can bring, if you are willing to have the courage to see it that way. Blue skies are suddenly bluer, leaves are greener, flowers are sweeter, the sun is warmer, the birds always seem to be out and chirping, even the weeds in your front yard become pretty in their own way. Call me naïve if you wish, but I really beg to differ.
If you wish to join or donate to my Relay team you can do so here, please and thank you ;)
-----> http://main.acsevents.org/..goto/Kaitlin_LaGow
March 14, 2009
The past few months I have been so beside myself. I am surrounded by the best group of friends and family a girl could ever hope for. Real people. The most genuine of genuine. The kind of people that you know ten years from now you'll be having phone conversations with as we yell at our munchkins to shut the hell up while mom's on the phone, and thirty years from now well be sitting on a beach reminiscing about the 'old days' with our Patron margaritas in hand. There isn’t a bone in my body that doubts it.
How can I be so sure? People's true colors come out when the road gets rough. You know who your friends are by their willingness to stand up when the easy thing to do is to sit back, cower away in a corner and wait until the storm passes. And I won’t lie, I have been hurt in part by some of my friends eagerness to run away from me, their inability to keep in contact. Do I fault them for it? No. My life is intense, my life is really intense. What I live is incomprehensible for some and makes them look their own immortality and fears in the face which can be too much for some - the thought that this too will one day be their fate. I can see in their eyes that I scare the crap out of them. They aren’t ready. And that’s okay. Does it hurt that I cant talk about my life because you aren't strong enough or ready to sit through the conversation? Of course. I don’t want to sit through half of the conversations I have to have on a daily basis either. What defines ready anyway? I’m sure not. How could one be? Life doesn’t give you a prep class for these types of obstacles. My dad and I talked today about who should walk me down the isle of my wedding, since he wont be there. There is no way to prepare for this, it just happens and you make the decision to get up and keep existing.
But then, there are people in my life that have been such gifts. Such beacons of love and generosity in the purest of forms that I cant even allow myself to stay upset for more than a minute over being wronged by others, or what is happening in my life in general. I have experienced more love in the past few months to last me a lifetime. More than many get in a lifetime, I’m sure. I am eternally grateful. I halfway want to talk specifically about the people in my life that have truly been godsends and give them recognition for the amazing things they have done and how much they have meant to me and to my family. But you know who you are and you know what you have done and I don’t wish to make those not mentioned that will read this feel insignificant, because you are not. But thank you, thank you to all of you who have been there for me in any degree. None of it goes unnoticed.
I have participated in Relay for Life for many years and each year I become a little bit more humbled. The completely unexpected gifts from those whom I haven’t spoken to in years, from people whom I have wronged and still reach out can just baffle a person. In two weeks I’m sitting at $1500. That is phenomenal, especially since I have yet to put on any of my events and no one in my family has donated yet. This has been done so far sheerly through facebook. If you don’t believe in miracles, your crazy because I’m living one. The true altruism I have witnessed just leaves me in awe. I have people practically throwing themselves at me to help in any way possible. It has been so validating for me, and so validating for my father. When you can see your worth and the impact you leave on the world and others it gives you a great sense of value. It makes me strive to be better, to be stronger, to do more, to be bolder, to be more grateful, to love deeper. You never know what you are really capable of until you stand up and try. Don’t let the fear of failure hold you back. I did that for so many years. The only true way you can fail is by never getting up off your ass and trying. That took me a long time to figure out. I have always been a perfectionist. Which I have come to realize is a great weakness. To strive for perfection is to strive for the unattainable. Aim high, but aim reasonable. Its much more fulfilling.
Anyway, I guess what I am trying to say through my yet again endless ramblings (again on pain meds) is that I am so thankful. It is only when you know how truly short life can be that you begin to cherish it for all of the gifts it can bring, if you are willing to have the courage to see it that way. Blue skies are suddenly bluer, leaves are greener, flowers are sweeter, the sun is warmer, the birds always seem to be out and chirping, even the weeds in your front yard become pretty in their own way. Call me naïve if you wish, but I really beg to differ.
If you wish to join or donate to my Relay team you can do so here, please and thank you ;)
-----> http://main.acsevents.org/..goto/Kaitlin_LaGow
Being twenty-two
March 12, 2009
I had all four of my impacted wisdom teeth extracted yesterday, which has proved to be as seemingly exciting as a prison sentence. I have a frozen bag of corn wrapped in a towel on my right chipmunk cheek and a frozen bag of peas to my left. My mouth wont stop bleeding, and is consequentially filled with gauze pads. Essentially I look like a squirrel who has confused Charmin toilet paper for food. I am hardly coherent from the Valium and Vicodin they have me hopped up on, (So I suppose I should preface this with a disclaimer if parts of it don't entirely make sense or flow cohesively, cut me some slack you brutal souls :) And my family seems to be getting entirely too much pleasure from my ill state - heartless jerks. Although I must say it isnt undeserved. I am known to take a heart-filled laugh at others pain too, its all in good fun. My father tells me its good for me since hes surprised I have yet to float off into space from the size of my ego - its a LaGow trait, I cant help it :) Somehow our entire family was miraculously born ridiculously good looking and perfect. Haha. Im kidding, well sort of.
My older bother Mike came home last night which was a pleasant surprise, especially since we haven’t been on speaking terms since around Christmas. I have seen him a few times since, but they have been civil meetings at best. I just want him to grow up, thats all. My heart hurts for the regret I fear he will carry later in life, but you cant 'save' someone who doesn’t want to be. Smashing beer cans on his forehead seems to be of a higher priority. But, today he has been overwhelmingly attentive, which still leaves me flabbergasted. I always knew he was a giant teddy bear trapped under 300 pounds of D1 college football muscle and ogreish brawn.
My mothers two able sisters Susan and Lois flew in on Tuesday and Wednesday to be here to help me while I recover. Needless to say driving my dad the hour to Duke for his treatments was out of my scope of capability. I try most of the time to be superwoman, but this was certainly a task I couldn’t take on single handedly. One aunt agreed and the other hopped on board half a second later. My godmother, Susan, took me to and from. Once I got home she set me up in our guest bedroom downstairs. She sat on my bed while caressing my hair, handing me ice packs, removed my gauze pads and began to spoon feed me water. And I just began to cry uncontrollably. Something that is unusual for me. My montra is to be a rock, never let 'em see ya sweat. She kissed my forehead and told me how she knew it must hurt. But that was the thing, I wasn’t upset because it hurt. It hasn’t hurt much at all honestly. I was crying because I was happy, ridiculously happy. Which may seem odd to some of you. I was crying because I spend all day caring and worrying and doting oneveryone else in this house hold. I run the ship. I was just so happy she was there to take the load off, even for a day. To take care of ME. Not only that but she reminds me so much of my mother. They look so similar, sound similar, have the same mannerisms, they even wear the same perfume, which I still cant get used to.
The room I am in is also the room my mother stayed in while she was sick and we haven’t moved most of her stuff. Her needle point scarf she was knitting still sits on the bedside table (she was making them for her three children Mike,Phillip and I. She only was able to get 3/4 of the way through one.) The bookcase is filled with books she read, she loved to read. She was so inquisitive, about everything. She just had this yearning to never stop. She read everything from Walt Whitman to Harry Potter. She was so smart, on all sorts of topics. I remember when she used to walk us to the bus stop in elementary school and while we were walking she would quiz us on what type of trees we were passing. This is a white birch, how do you know? From the bark, that’s right. And this, Red Oak how do you know? See the moss growing on this side of the rock? That typically means this way is north, if you ever get lost at night, moss grows north. She just knew everything about everything. I cant see a weeping willow tree, know why it is and not think of her - this is good. Anyway I was sitting in this room that automatically reminds me of my mother, surrounded by her things, being cared for by her spitting image sister. I felt like a child again. I haven’t had anyone bring me soup or bring me meds when I’ve been sick in years. Im so used to caring for myself and everyone else, with no questions asked. But, I felt my age for the first time in months, maybe years. I spend my days being the parent to my father for obvious reasons and being a parent to my brothers because well they still need one.
Im up every day at 5 am to drive my dad the hour to Duke for treatment, come home make breakfast, shower and go to class at 11. When I get out of class I have two hours left of 'business hours' to get ‘things’ done: phonecalls, Relay stuff, Bank stuff, Attorney stuff, Life insurance stuff, social security stuff, will stuff, trust fund stuff, power of attorney stuff, pension plan stuff, mortgage stuff, house deed stuff, car titles stuff, stuff no one my age wants to know about or wants to have to do. Then I come home and cook dinner, I try to make sure its on the table every night at six. My younger brother has had quite some... trouble would be a nice way to put it, with all that has happened to our family. He thrives in a familial, structured environment. That was what was stolen from him at such a young age. My heart aches for him most of all. He is so young, its so unfair for him. Anyway, I do the best I can to provide that for him. Making him come home from playing basketball for a family dinner and making my dad get up and move off the couch for a family dinner is important to me and I think it helps. After the dishes and getting my dad ready for bed I get to begin to do my homework. I never hit bed until about midnight if Im lucky and then I start all over again. And this is no way a complaint. I love my life. I really love my life. I am infinitely happier and healthier here than I have been in almost seven years. Iam finally not trying to run from reality, which I did for quite some time with the aid of my best boyfriend - Jose Cuervo.
It just feels good to be taken care of now and then. To feel loved. That’s all. On top of this, someone sent me a giant bouquet of roses and I still haven’t figured out who but if you read this thank you. I have them sitting next to me, there is just something about flowers that can bright up any girls day. Especially when they are completely unexpected. Anyway bottom line, no matter how much of a hard ass I try to be its nice to remember that everyone needs someone now and then. I am not perfect. I am not made of stone. And its ok to loosen my grip on 'being ok'.
I had all four of my impacted wisdom teeth extracted yesterday, which has proved to be as seemingly exciting as a prison sentence. I have a frozen bag of corn wrapped in a towel on my right chipmunk cheek and a frozen bag of peas to my left. My mouth wont stop bleeding, and is consequentially filled with gauze pads. Essentially I look like a squirrel who has confused Charmin toilet paper for food. I am hardly coherent from the Valium and Vicodin they have me hopped up on, (So I suppose I should preface this with a disclaimer if parts of it don't entirely make sense or flow cohesively, cut me some slack you brutal souls :) And my family seems to be getting entirely too much pleasure from my ill state - heartless jerks. Although I must say it isnt undeserved. I am known to take a heart-filled laugh at others pain too, its all in good fun. My father tells me its good for me since hes surprised I have yet to float off into space from the size of my ego - its a LaGow trait, I cant help it :) Somehow our entire family was miraculously born ridiculously good looking and perfect. Haha. Im kidding, well sort of.
My older bother Mike came home last night which was a pleasant surprise, especially since we haven’t been on speaking terms since around Christmas. I have seen him a few times since, but they have been civil meetings at best. I just want him to grow up, thats all. My heart hurts for the regret I fear he will carry later in life, but you cant 'save' someone who doesn’t want to be. Smashing beer cans on his forehead seems to be of a higher priority. But, today he has been overwhelmingly attentive, which still leaves me flabbergasted. I always knew he was a giant teddy bear trapped under 300 pounds of D1 college football muscle and ogreish brawn.
My mothers two able sisters Susan and Lois flew in on Tuesday and Wednesday to be here to help me while I recover. Needless to say driving my dad the hour to Duke for his treatments was out of my scope of capability. I try most of the time to be superwoman, but this was certainly a task I couldn’t take on single handedly. One aunt agreed and the other hopped on board half a second later. My godmother, Susan, took me to and from. Once I got home she set me up in our guest bedroom downstairs. She sat on my bed while caressing my hair, handing me ice packs, removed my gauze pads and began to spoon feed me water. And I just began to cry uncontrollably. Something that is unusual for me. My montra is to be a rock, never let 'em see ya sweat. She kissed my forehead and told me how she knew it must hurt. But that was the thing, I wasn’t upset because it hurt. It hasn’t hurt much at all honestly. I was crying because I was happy, ridiculously happy. Which may seem odd to some of you. I was crying because I spend all day caring and worrying and doting oneveryone else in this house hold. I run the ship. I was just so happy she was there to take the load off, even for a day. To take care of ME. Not only that but she reminds me so much of my mother. They look so similar, sound similar, have the same mannerisms, they even wear the same perfume, which I still cant get used to.
The room I am in is also the room my mother stayed in while she was sick and we haven’t moved most of her stuff. Her needle point scarf she was knitting still sits on the bedside table (she was making them for her three children Mike,Phillip and I. She only was able to get 3/4 of the way through one.) The bookcase is filled with books she read, she loved to read. She was so inquisitive, about everything. She just had this yearning to never stop. She read everything from Walt Whitman to Harry Potter. She was so smart, on all sorts of topics. I remember when she used to walk us to the bus stop in elementary school and while we were walking she would quiz us on what type of trees we were passing. This is a white birch, how do you know? From the bark, that’s right. And this, Red Oak how do you know? See the moss growing on this side of the rock? That typically means this way is north, if you ever get lost at night, moss grows north. She just knew everything about everything. I cant see a weeping willow tree, know why it is and not think of her - this is good. Anyway I was sitting in this room that automatically reminds me of my mother, surrounded by her things, being cared for by her spitting image sister. I felt like a child again. I haven’t had anyone bring me soup or bring me meds when I’ve been sick in years. Im so used to caring for myself and everyone else, with no questions asked. But, I felt my age for the first time in months, maybe years. I spend my days being the parent to my father for obvious reasons and being a parent to my brothers because well they still need one.
Im up every day at 5 am to drive my dad the hour to Duke for treatment, come home make breakfast, shower and go to class at 11. When I get out of class I have two hours left of 'business hours' to get ‘things’ done: phonecalls, Relay stuff, Bank stuff, Attorney stuff, Life insurance stuff, social security stuff, will stuff, trust fund stuff, power of attorney stuff, pension plan stuff, mortgage stuff, house deed stuff, car titles stuff, stuff no one my age wants to know about or wants to have to do. Then I come home and cook dinner, I try to make sure its on the table every night at six. My younger brother has had quite some... trouble would be a nice way to put it, with all that has happened to our family. He thrives in a familial, structured environment. That was what was stolen from him at such a young age. My heart aches for him most of all. He is so young, its so unfair for him. Anyway, I do the best I can to provide that for him. Making him come home from playing basketball for a family dinner and making my dad get up and move off the couch for a family dinner is important to me and I think it helps. After the dishes and getting my dad ready for bed I get to begin to do my homework. I never hit bed until about midnight if Im lucky and then I start all over again. And this is no way a complaint. I love my life. I really love my life. I am infinitely happier and healthier here than I have been in almost seven years. Iam finally not trying to run from reality, which I did for quite some time with the aid of my best boyfriend - Jose Cuervo.
It just feels good to be taken care of now and then. To feel loved. That’s all. On top of this, someone sent me a giant bouquet of roses and I still haven’t figured out who but if you read this thank you. I have them sitting next to me, there is just something about flowers that can bright up any girls day. Especially when they are completely unexpected. Anyway bottom line, no matter how much of a hard ass I try to be its nice to remember that everyone needs someone now and then. I am not perfect. I am not made of stone. And its ok to loosen my grip on 'being ok'.
God doesnt give refunds when you over pray
Febuary 16, 2009
You know those roller coasters that shoot you from zero to ninety miles an hour in .2 seconds? That feeling after you've boarded and the attendants have walked around, fastened seat belts, the floor has lowered and your just sitting there with feet hopelessly dangling, waiting anxiously. Every muscle tense, every nerve ending firing, toes gripping the soles of your shoes, eyes clenched shut, knuckles white grasping the hand rails as if she could offer some sort of sanity. Your fate is no longer yours. Caught in the eye of the storm waiting to be launched straight into the turbulent muck having no idea what twist or turn awaits around the bend. The images of whats to come flood your mind. Your grip tightens. There is no space between thoughts. Why are you still waiting? Racing, Pacing. Why haven't you spr...and just then, mid-thought your sprung into the abyss. Jolted. Ripped from your cocoon of innocence. Your consciousness still twenty feet behind, pathetically trying to catch up. From here out you are utterly and completely out of control of anything happening to you......
take that and multiply it by one hundred million and take that to the depths of eternity. Then just maybe you could begin to understand.
Goodnight.
You know those roller coasters that shoot you from zero to ninety miles an hour in .2 seconds? That feeling after you've boarded and the attendants have walked around, fastened seat belts, the floor has lowered and your just sitting there with feet hopelessly dangling, waiting anxiously. Every muscle tense, every nerve ending firing, toes gripping the soles of your shoes, eyes clenched shut, knuckles white grasping the hand rails as if she could offer some sort of sanity. Your fate is no longer yours. Caught in the eye of the storm waiting to be launched straight into the turbulent muck having no idea what twist or turn awaits around the bend. The images of whats to come flood your mind. Your grip tightens. There is no space between thoughts. Why are you still waiting? Racing, Pacing. Why haven't you spr...and just then, mid-thought your sprung into the abyss. Jolted. Ripped from your cocoon of innocence. Your consciousness still twenty feet behind, pathetically trying to catch up. From here out you are utterly and completely out of control of anything happening to you......
take that and multiply it by one hundred million and take that to the depths of eternity. Then just maybe you could begin to understand.
Goodnight.
Its all the rage on facebook.
Febuary 1, 2008
..Any 25 random things about yourself..
1. My therapy is blogging and cooking. I probably only say about 1% ofthe things I think. Blogging lets me get it out. There are only ahandful of avid readers - and thats ok. I do it as a release more sothan a broadcast of my life. If you take the time to read my novelramblings that alone deems you worthy of knowing whatever it says. And,cooking makes me feel close to my mom.
2. I know I am meant for something meaningful.
3. I only have one kidney. The other one just atrophically hangs out.
4. I have a lot of 'friends' but Im highly selective with my closefriends. Im always skeptical of new people, I feel out your intentionsfirst. I just cant see the point of investing in false people or peopletoo consumed with themselves to listen. Consequentially there are a lotof people in my life who know little about me. But, I dont think thisis a bad thing. Because I have a handful of people that know all of myeverything's and I would give up all of my everything's for them. Ilove few, but I love deeply. Thats infinitely more significant to me.
5. I hate taking medications. Always have. Not even Ibuprofen. I gotout of arthroscopic surgery and never took any of the percocet theysent me home with. Still have it, somewhere.
6. I would much rather spend 100 bucks on a gourmet meal with a goodfriend, a slammin' bottle of champagne or RED wine, sporting eventtickets, or towards a vacation then on a pair of shoes I'll wear once.
7. I'm not as intimidating or tough as I pretend to be.
8. I scare the crap out of my dad every time I go on a vacation becauseI live for an adrenaline rush. Roller coasters, sky diving, jet skis,cliff jumping, wake boarding, hiking, rock climbing, canyoning, ziplining, tubing, you name it- ill try it! Fear rarely holds me back.Probably why I gave my daredevil self a concussion in Switzerland. Oops!
9. I have a highly evolved defense mechanism. Its a work in progress,residual from growing up in NY. Always ready to go to war, only now noone is standing on the other side of the fence.
10. I've matured probably ten years in the last two. I dont even know the girl I used to be any more. This is good.
11. I come alive when Im around my family.
12. Im a good person.
13. I dont believe in organized religion. Someone telling you what youshould think about life once a week is absurd to me. I dont believe inGod by the conventional definition. But I do consider myself abeliever, just not in the same way you do. I have always thoughtoutside the box. Just because its in a book doesnt make it truth. Ihave studied several religions and have yet to find one that matcheswhat I believe, but Im still looking. Will I make my children go tochurch? yes. Will I go with them? yes. Will I force it down theirthroats and tell them they cant decide for themselves? No. No. No.
14. I go and sit with my mother, often. Even when I lived hours away. I never tell anyone.
15. I love to travel and immerse myself in other cultures. With thissaid, I one thousand times over would rather backpack through theAmazon, not shower for a week and come home covered in mosquito bitesthan go party and sunbathe in Cancun. I often dream about picking mylife up on whim and moving to a foreign country. I know Ill do it.
16. I wish I was better versed in philosophy and literature. I justcant get into it, but I think its important as far as being a wellrounded being.
17. Ive tried to be a gym rat and it just doesnt take. Im healthy, Imhappy and I like how I look. There is a line between being healthy andsheer vanity. For me I'd rather enjoy a giant german beer with friendsand hop on a tready the next day than live on celery thank you verymuch!
18. I have a mental list of things I want to do in my life. A bucket list of sorts. Dont doubt me.
19. I feel like I have been running against the wind, uphill for aboutsix years now. But the important part is Im still running.
20. Business tycoon vs. mother earth has always plagued my mind. I dontthink it is possible to successfully do both. And I stress thesuccessfully part. One always suffers. I want both in their entirety.
21. My dad is my superman. He always has been. Even through all hisharsh lessons, I idolized him :) I idolize him even more today. Hisresilience and optimism not only baffles me, but puts me to shamedaily.
22. I love that Im tall. I command attention without even meaning to.
23. Wilmington should be renamed 'never-never land'. Its certainlywhere all the lost boys and girls stay to prolong adolescence. Im soglad I got out. Living in a bar is by no means a normal, or fulfillinglife.
24. I am and have always been a political junkie. I can not fathom thedegree that most of my peers couldn't give a shit. I dont know whetherits ignorance or apathy, but it certainly must be both. It affectsevery aspect of your life if you know it or not. Wake up.
25. Despite everything, I really couldnt feel more blessed.
..Any 25 random things about yourself..
1. My therapy is blogging and cooking. I probably only say about 1% ofthe things I think. Blogging lets me get it out. There are only ahandful of avid readers - and thats ok. I do it as a release more sothan a broadcast of my life. If you take the time to read my novelramblings that alone deems you worthy of knowing whatever it says. And,cooking makes me feel close to my mom.
2. I know I am meant for something meaningful.
3. I only have one kidney. The other one just atrophically hangs out.
4. I have a lot of 'friends' but Im highly selective with my closefriends. Im always skeptical of new people, I feel out your intentionsfirst. I just cant see the point of investing in false people or peopletoo consumed with themselves to listen. Consequentially there are a lotof people in my life who know little about me. But, I dont think thisis a bad thing. Because I have a handful of people that know all of myeverything's and I would give up all of my everything's for them. Ilove few, but I love deeply. Thats infinitely more significant to me.
5. I hate taking medications. Always have. Not even Ibuprofen. I gotout of arthroscopic surgery and never took any of the percocet theysent me home with. Still have it, somewhere.
6. I would much rather spend 100 bucks on a gourmet meal with a goodfriend, a slammin' bottle of champagne or RED wine, sporting eventtickets, or towards a vacation then on a pair of shoes I'll wear once.
7. I'm not as intimidating or tough as I pretend to be.
8. I scare the crap out of my dad every time I go on a vacation becauseI live for an adrenaline rush. Roller coasters, sky diving, jet skis,cliff jumping, wake boarding, hiking, rock climbing, canyoning, ziplining, tubing, you name it- ill try it! Fear rarely holds me back.Probably why I gave my daredevil self a concussion in Switzerland. Oops!
9. I have a highly evolved defense mechanism. Its a work in progress,residual from growing up in NY. Always ready to go to war, only now noone is standing on the other side of the fence.
10. I've matured probably ten years in the last two. I dont even know the girl I used to be any more. This is good.
11. I come alive when Im around my family.
12. Im a good person.
13. I dont believe in organized religion. Someone telling you what youshould think about life once a week is absurd to me. I dont believe inGod by the conventional definition. But I do consider myself abeliever, just not in the same way you do. I have always thoughtoutside the box. Just because its in a book doesnt make it truth. Ihave studied several religions and have yet to find one that matcheswhat I believe, but Im still looking. Will I make my children go tochurch? yes. Will I go with them? yes. Will I force it down theirthroats and tell them they cant decide for themselves? No. No. No.
14. I go and sit with my mother, often. Even when I lived hours away. I never tell anyone.
15. I love to travel and immerse myself in other cultures. With thissaid, I one thousand times over would rather backpack through theAmazon, not shower for a week and come home covered in mosquito bitesthan go party and sunbathe in Cancun. I often dream about picking mylife up on whim and moving to a foreign country. I know Ill do it.
16. I wish I was better versed in philosophy and literature. I justcant get into it, but I think its important as far as being a wellrounded being.
17. Ive tried to be a gym rat and it just doesnt take. Im healthy, Imhappy and I like how I look. There is a line between being healthy andsheer vanity. For me I'd rather enjoy a giant german beer with friendsand hop on a tready the next day than live on celery thank you verymuch!
18. I have a mental list of things I want to do in my life. A bucket list of sorts. Dont doubt me.
19. I feel like I have been running against the wind, uphill for aboutsix years now. But the important part is Im still running.
20. Business tycoon vs. mother earth has always plagued my mind. I dontthink it is possible to successfully do both. And I stress thesuccessfully part. One always suffers. I want both in their entirety.
21. My dad is my superman. He always has been. Even through all hisharsh lessons, I idolized him :) I idolize him even more today. Hisresilience and optimism not only baffles me, but puts me to shamedaily.
22. I love that Im tall. I command attention without even meaning to.
23. Wilmington should be renamed 'never-never land'. Its certainlywhere all the lost boys and girls stay to prolong adolescence. Im soglad I got out. Living in a bar is by no means a normal, or fulfillinglife.
24. I am and have always been a political junkie. I can not fathom thedegree that most of my peers couldn't give a shit. I dont know whetherits ignorance or apathy, but it certainly must be both. It affectsevery aspect of your life if you know it or not. Wake up.
25. Despite everything, I really couldnt feel more blessed.
thoughts of an optimistic realist
January 21, 2009
I have always been a political junkie. Perhaps because the only thing allowed on our television was a football game or the news. If I wished to converse with my dad about anything, it was going to have to be about politics. It was our only common ground. That coupled with the town I grew up in Im convinced was the seed. I grew up being the minority, seeing the plight of the ‘ghetto’ and attending an education system abandoned, witnessing the bitter effects of urbanization, gangs, and violence. In the midst I found a zest for culture and social reform. I found immense pleasure in going to my friends homes and having an authentic Colombian meal (yes, that’s a shout out to you Miss. Vicky Lee :) whose wonderful mother still FedEx’s me frozen chorizo and cheeses because of how much I love it!) I spent many nights babysitting my neighbors two Jewish boys and helping them with their Hebrew homework, my Saturday nights attending my friends Catholic mass and my Sunday mornings attending my own Presbyterian church. In high school I found great pleasure in our Human Relations committee, finding Holocaust victims and escorting them around classrooms to speak. We organized human rights day assemblies. We went around giving speeches on racism and stereotyping, trying to make a difference one person at a time.
Then I moved. Whew that was interesting. I went from a school system who was abandoned by its principle every few months because the school was in such array to a school that seriously could have starred in the movie Pleasantville. In Freeport's school system it was not uncommon to miss two hours of school a day because of regular bomb threats. We became very accustomed to the police sweeping in, and us filling out to the parking lots while the halls and lockers were examined. Lunch period was always a war zone, someone always threw something in attempt to get the entire cafeteria to break into hysterics. We were always under ‘lockdown’...which was a joke. Drug overdoses, stabbings, gang violence - you name it, we had it. And this was normal. All schools were like this, right? Wrong. Then I saw how towns with money lived. That threw my whole perspective of life and politics on its head. Every classroom had 5 computers and a TV. They didn’t have one TV on a metal cart for the whole school to share? They had text books they could take home? They didn’t have one class set of only 30 that 300 students would share? They weren’t 10+ years old, missing pages and outdated? They didn’t have classrooms held in closets, hallways, cafeterias and auditoriums? It angered me. I have experienced both sides of the spectrum and never really fit into either. I never lived in the ghetto with metal bars over my bedroom window nor did I get a BMW when I turned sixteen. What I did get was perspective of the economical and social unfairness of life and how easily inner city schools are forgotten. Without a doubt the foundation for my strong liberal views.
Somehow I still always assumed everyone kept up with the times. I remember in the Bush/Cheney vs. Kerry/Edwards election it became painfully clear to me how much my peers really couldn’t give a shit. I was bubbling over in excitement that I was 18 and could take part in my first election. I was a real member of society, participating in my first duty as a citizen. It became crystal clear in my freshman year sitting at Wagner (our dining hall) and I made the foolish error of bringing up the election. A girl I sat with told me she wanted Mr. Kerry Edwards to be our next president. After I finished snickering I had to explain that all those bumper stickers she was seeing that read ‘Kerry Edwards 04’ were for John Kerry, and John Edwards. And that ‘Mr. Kerry Edwards’ was no senator I had ever heard of.
On the night of the election Jenny (my only truly politically savvy friend) and I stayed up until the wee hours of the night watching the votes come in. It was close, really close. Upon realizing we had lost around 4 am we got in the car, listened to music and drove aimlessly around town bewildered and defeated. We knew the next four years would be bad, really bad. I feared what message had we just sent the world in re-electing President Bush? I had a HUGE pill to swallow called pride as I walked into every one of my classrooms on that Wednesday morning. Damn me for always being an opinionated, vocal son-of-a-gun.
Bush unfortunately lived up to almost everything I expected him to. He now has a resounding disapproval rating from within our borders and abroad. In some respects he had a successful administration. He came into office with two real goals, lower taxes and invade Iraq. I suppose one can deduce he was successful in that sense? The heart wrenching pitfall to his administration was his holding steadfast to the triumph of his own ideologies rather than the welfare of the people he was elected to protect. Cosmically, at one time something the people applauded him for.
While I was abroad one of the best experiences I took from it was asking the local people what they thought of the Iraqi War, American politics and President Bush. I was refused service or snubbed by some but overall found the people to be very gracious... and smelly! It became a running joke with those on the trip, if you lost track of me you had to go find where the locals were sitting and I would undoubtedly be amongst them having in depth conversations through broken English, German and hand signals. Some of which were formidable opponents and some were flat out ignorant. One drunken German began comparing Bush to Hitler. At this point in time I realized I was conversing with a grossly uneducated man either in the history of his own country or world affairs period, but it was clear that was not a battle worth forging ahead with. What I did find from most people I spoke to was an overall dissatisfaction or disappointment even with America’s fierce ignorance toward world affairs and our outward disregard for other cultures. They were receptive to us, it seemed because we had initially set ourselves aside from their stereotypes simply because well we were there, studying. And many found our groups intense inquisitiveness refreshing, which made for many rich train conversations. It saddened them that Bush was so obviously pro-Israeli in an immensely complicated struggle. They think we are a materialistic nation who is concerned with nothing beyond the success of ourselves. They thought we were a country of spoiled citizens who revolved around greed, we are the self proclaimed entitled nation. And I cant say I blame them. That is surely the message we have sent to the world.
I will say in President Bush’s defense, he did inherit our country on the cusp of an economic decline and in a post 9/11 world he was faced with many obstacles that were unprecedented. But, this is what either makes a great leader or a mediocre one. The ability to rise to a challenge, to possess adaptability. I have no doubt he did the best that he could, but in no way does that mean he did what was best for our country. The administrative powers gained entirely too much strength during his years. The war on terror was used as an excuse to throw all laws, regulations and rights out the door to reach the level of power the Bush Administration did. We used torture measures which would be considered abominable if committed against one of our soldiers. We cannot hold double standards. How was Guantanamo Bay seriously allowed to become what it has today? The people were manipulated into thinking somehow invading Iraq was our retaliation to Al Qaeda. Osama Bin Laden ..Saddam Hussein, one in the same right? Get those ‘weapons of mass destruction’! And I will admit I was partially guilty too. I was moved by the compelling evidence Colin Powell was presenting to the United Nations. How utterly embarrassing we never found them. (After reading what I have so far in an effort to move forward in this paragraph, I am choosing to stop. It is trite to people now even though my emotions are still so strong on the subject. Perhaps its because my life was so severely affected by that fatal day and I feel like appropriate measures were not taken in its aftermath. I have spent much of my time researching the topic ‘for fun’. I would sit sunbathing on Wrightsville beach reading the 1200 some page 9/11 Commission Report, while my friends caught up with the latest gossip magazines. I think in the corners on my mind I still seek justice. Which is frustrating because that’s the exact emotion that was exploited in the many many months after September 11th. On that note, Im through with this for now because to me... its still so personal.)
The fight we have ahead of us is monumental. Not an easy task. No one is underestimating that and no one is belittling it. I have no false hopes for our future, but I do have faith. Economically we are riding the line between recession and depression. Our unemployment rate of 7.2 percent isn’t going to plummet over night, giving everyone their jobs back. Demoralizing men like Madoff are still out there swindling millions with Ponzi schemes because of the deregulation of the financial industry. Our public education system isn’t going to stop allowing the children of our nation to slip through the cracks because of our pathetically low expectations. Healthcare isn’t suddenly going to give you what you thought you had been paying them for. People wont stop defaulting on their homes because of the banking industries deceptive bubble mortgage plans that preyed on the poor and uneducated. Social Security is still the worst investment every American has ever made. Congress is still filled with some crooked politicians voting for bills based on who funded their campaigns. The many decades long struggle between the Israeli’s and Palestinians will not resolve itself. Air raids in the Gaza strip and the plight of its refugees wont see peace tomorrow. Africa wont be liberated from tyranny or AIDS by sunrise. The green house effect is still running away with our planet. These are the thoughts of a optimistic realist who sees change on the horizon.
With an eighty percent approval rating, I am glad to say opposition is now few and far between. Yes this struggle is not going to be easy. No it will not happen over night. No we are not going to live in a perfect world, ever. I am not expecting Obama to spring the Garden of Eden in my backyard. The gift President Obama has given already is unity and hope. People are ready to make a change fundamentally, civilly, spiritually, politically, socially, economically and religiously. We are ready to throw out programs that don’t work. Why fund them? We are ready to revamp programs with good intentions and bad executions. Many of President Obama’s tactical moves thus far suggest to me that this administration will be different. His selection of Panetta to head the CIA alone speaks volumes to me. Those that make up the ‘pool of acceptable candidates’ from inside the intelligence community I fear, are irreparably corrupt and have completely tarnished the image of our intelligence agencies. When an entire branch of your government has failed you what sense does it make to continue to feed the limbs that have failed that branch? Cut your losses and start a new.
I feel like my entire spirit exponentially exploded with the delivery of that inaugural speech. The strides our country has made are truly remarkable, a testament of everything our great country stands for. Finally the self proclaimed ‘melting pot’ country of ours has lived up to the fundamentals we were built on: freedom, perseverance, change, love, hope, determination, adaptability, lastly and most importantly equality. Obama was sworn into office at our capital building, built by slaves. He will move into a house on Pennsylvania Avenue that was also built by slaves. His being the first to be sworn in on Abraham Lincolns bible since Lincoln is so symbolic, the completion of a dream of a President way to progressive for his time.
Undoubtedly the strongest part of his address was of that to the Muslim world. I could not cast a shadow on his delivery and I don’t dare try to.
“To the Muslim world, we seek a new way forward, based on mutual interest and mutual respect. To those leaders around the globe who seek to sow conflict, or blame their society's ills on the West: Know that your people will judge you on what you can build, not what you destroy. To those who cling to power through corruption and deceit and the silencing of dissent, know that you are on the wrong side of history; but that we will extend a hand if you are willing to unclench your fist.”
If you have yet to read either of his books, I highly suggest you do. I read his first book “Dreams from my Father” many many years ago. I bought it on whim in high school, having no idea who the author was or who he would become. I was on my break at work and walked over to target to kill time. Something about it caught my eye and then something about his story moved me. Years later I saw him on Oprah after he had become Illinois’ senator, putting a face to the name. I immediately dusted the book off my shelf and read it cover to cover again. I then went and bought his second book, “The Audacity of Hope” which was equally ground breaking. If you couldn’t watch the inauguration speech, I urge you to at least read the address. It will be quoted until the end of your days and beyond, I am sure of it.
I have always been a political junkie. Perhaps because the only thing allowed on our television was a football game or the news. If I wished to converse with my dad about anything, it was going to have to be about politics. It was our only common ground. That coupled with the town I grew up in Im convinced was the seed. I grew up being the minority, seeing the plight of the ‘ghetto’ and attending an education system abandoned, witnessing the bitter effects of urbanization, gangs, and violence. In the midst I found a zest for culture and social reform. I found immense pleasure in going to my friends homes and having an authentic Colombian meal (yes, that’s a shout out to you Miss. Vicky Lee :) whose wonderful mother still FedEx’s me frozen chorizo and cheeses because of how much I love it!) I spent many nights babysitting my neighbors two Jewish boys and helping them with their Hebrew homework, my Saturday nights attending my friends Catholic mass and my Sunday mornings attending my own Presbyterian church. In high school I found great pleasure in our Human Relations committee, finding Holocaust victims and escorting them around classrooms to speak. We organized human rights day assemblies. We went around giving speeches on racism and stereotyping, trying to make a difference one person at a time.
Then I moved. Whew that was interesting. I went from a school system who was abandoned by its principle every few months because the school was in such array to a school that seriously could have starred in the movie Pleasantville. In Freeport's school system it was not uncommon to miss two hours of school a day because of regular bomb threats. We became very accustomed to the police sweeping in, and us filling out to the parking lots while the halls and lockers were examined. Lunch period was always a war zone, someone always threw something in attempt to get the entire cafeteria to break into hysterics. We were always under ‘lockdown’...which was a joke. Drug overdoses, stabbings, gang violence - you name it, we had it. And this was normal. All schools were like this, right? Wrong. Then I saw how towns with money lived. That threw my whole perspective of life and politics on its head. Every classroom had 5 computers and a TV. They didn’t have one TV on a metal cart for the whole school to share? They had text books they could take home? They didn’t have one class set of only 30 that 300 students would share? They weren’t 10+ years old, missing pages and outdated? They didn’t have classrooms held in closets, hallways, cafeterias and auditoriums? It angered me. I have experienced both sides of the spectrum and never really fit into either. I never lived in the ghetto with metal bars over my bedroom window nor did I get a BMW when I turned sixteen. What I did get was perspective of the economical and social unfairness of life and how easily inner city schools are forgotten. Without a doubt the foundation for my strong liberal views.
Somehow I still always assumed everyone kept up with the times. I remember in the Bush/Cheney vs. Kerry/Edwards election it became painfully clear to me how much my peers really couldn’t give a shit. I was bubbling over in excitement that I was 18 and could take part in my first election. I was a real member of society, participating in my first duty as a citizen. It became crystal clear in my freshman year sitting at Wagner (our dining hall) and I made the foolish error of bringing up the election. A girl I sat with told me she wanted Mr. Kerry Edwards to be our next president. After I finished snickering I had to explain that all those bumper stickers she was seeing that read ‘Kerry Edwards 04’ were for John Kerry, and John Edwards. And that ‘Mr. Kerry Edwards’ was no senator I had ever heard of.
On the night of the election Jenny (my only truly politically savvy friend) and I stayed up until the wee hours of the night watching the votes come in. It was close, really close. Upon realizing we had lost around 4 am we got in the car, listened to music and drove aimlessly around town bewildered and defeated. We knew the next four years would be bad, really bad. I feared what message had we just sent the world in re-electing President Bush? I had a HUGE pill to swallow called pride as I walked into every one of my classrooms on that Wednesday morning. Damn me for always being an opinionated, vocal son-of-a-gun.
Bush unfortunately lived up to almost everything I expected him to. He now has a resounding disapproval rating from within our borders and abroad. In some respects he had a successful administration. He came into office with two real goals, lower taxes and invade Iraq. I suppose one can deduce he was successful in that sense? The heart wrenching pitfall to his administration was his holding steadfast to the triumph of his own ideologies rather than the welfare of the people he was elected to protect. Cosmically, at one time something the people applauded him for.
While I was abroad one of the best experiences I took from it was asking the local people what they thought of the Iraqi War, American politics and President Bush. I was refused service or snubbed by some but overall found the people to be very gracious... and smelly! It became a running joke with those on the trip, if you lost track of me you had to go find where the locals were sitting and I would undoubtedly be amongst them having in depth conversations through broken English, German and hand signals. Some of which were formidable opponents and some were flat out ignorant. One drunken German began comparing Bush to Hitler. At this point in time I realized I was conversing with a grossly uneducated man either in the history of his own country or world affairs period, but it was clear that was not a battle worth forging ahead with. What I did find from most people I spoke to was an overall dissatisfaction or disappointment even with America’s fierce ignorance toward world affairs and our outward disregard for other cultures. They were receptive to us, it seemed because we had initially set ourselves aside from their stereotypes simply because well we were there, studying. And many found our groups intense inquisitiveness refreshing, which made for many rich train conversations. It saddened them that Bush was so obviously pro-Israeli in an immensely complicated struggle. They think we are a materialistic nation who is concerned with nothing beyond the success of ourselves. They thought we were a country of spoiled citizens who revolved around greed, we are the self proclaimed entitled nation. And I cant say I blame them. That is surely the message we have sent to the world.
I will say in President Bush’s defense, he did inherit our country on the cusp of an economic decline and in a post 9/11 world he was faced with many obstacles that were unprecedented. But, this is what either makes a great leader or a mediocre one. The ability to rise to a challenge, to possess adaptability. I have no doubt he did the best that he could, but in no way does that mean he did what was best for our country. The administrative powers gained entirely too much strength during his years. The war on terror was used as an excuse to throw all laws, regulations and rights out the door to reach the level of power the Bush Administration did. We used torture measures which would be considered abominable if committed against one of our soldiers. We cannot hold double standards. How was Guantanamo Bay seriously allowed to become what it has today? The people were manipulated into thinking somehow invading Iraq was our retaliation to Al Qaeda. Osama Bin Laden ..Saddam Hussein, one in the same right? Get those ‘weapons of mass destruction’! And I will admit I was partially guilty too. I was moved by the compelling evidence Colin Powell was presenting to the United Nations. How utterly embarrassing we never found them. (After reading what I have so far in an effort to move forward in this paragraph, I am choosing to stop. It is trite to people now even though my emotions are still so strong on the subject. Perhaps its because my life was so severely affected by that fatal day and I feel like appropriate measures were not taken in its aftermath. I have spent much of my time researching the topic ‘for fun’. I would sit sunbathing on Wrightsville beach reading the 1200 some page 9/11 Commission Report, while my friends caught up with the latest gossip magazines. I think in the corners on my mind I still seek justice. Which is frustrating because that’s the exact emotion that was exploited in the many many months after September 11th. On that note, Im through with this for now because to me... its still so personal.)
The fight we have ahead of us is monumental. Not an easy task. No one is underestimating that and no one is belittling it. I have no false hopes for our future, but I do have faith. Economically we are riding the line between recession and depression. Our unemployment rate of 7.2 percent isn’t going to plummet over night, giving everyone their jobs back. Demoralizing men like Madoff are still out there swindling millions with Ponzi schemes because of the deregulation of the financial industry. Our public education system isn’t going to stop allowing the children of our nation to slip through the cracks because of our pathetically low expectations. Healthcare isn’t suddenly going to give you what you thought you had been paying them for. People wont stop defaulting on their homes because of the banking industries deceptive bubble mortgage plans that preyed on the poor and uneducated. Social Security is still the worst investment every American has ever made. Congress is still filled with some crooked politicians voting for bills based on who funded their campaigns. The many decades long struggle between the Israeli’s and Palestinians will not resolve itself. Air raids in the Gaza strip and the plight of its refugees wont see peace tomorrow. Africa wont be liberated from tyranny or AIDS by sunrise. The green house effect is still running away with our planet. These are the thoughts of a optimistic realist who sees change on the horizon.
With an eighty percent approval rating, I am glad to say opposition is now few and far between. Yes this struggle is not going to be easy. No it will not happen over night. No we are not going to live in a perfect world, ever. I am not expecting Obama to spring the Garden of Eden in my backyard. The gift President Obama has given already is unity and hope. People are ready to make a change fundamentally, civilly, spiritually, politically, socially, economically and religiously. We are ready to throw out programs that don’t work. Why fund them? We are ready to revamp programs with good intentions and bad executions. Many of President Obama’s tactical moves thus far suggest to me that this administration will be different. His selection of Panetta to head the CIA alone speaks volumes to me. Those that make up the ‘pool of acceptable candidates’ from inside the intelligence community I fear, are irreparably corrupt and have completely tarnished the image of our intelligence agencies. When an entire branch of your government has failed you what sense does it make to continue to feed the limbs that have failed that branch? Cut your losses and start a new.
I feel like my entire spirit exponentially exploded with the delivery of that inaugural speech. The strides our country has made are truly remarkable, a testament of everything our great country stands for. Finally the self proclaimed ‘melting pot’ country of ours has lived up to the fundamentals we were built on: freedom, perseverance, change, love, hope, determination, adaptability, lastly and most importantly equality. Obama was sworn into office at our capital building, built by slaves. He will move into a house on Pennsylvania Avenue that was also built by slaves. His being the first to be sworn in on Abraham Lincolns bible since Lincoln is so symbolic, the completion of a dream of a President way to progressive for his time.
Undoubtedly the strongest part of his address was of that to the Muslim world. I could not cast a shadow on his delivery and I don’t dare try to.
“To the Muslim world, we seek a new way forward, based on mutual interest and mutual respect. To those leaders around the globe who seek to sow conflict, or blame their society's ills on the West: Know that your people will judge you on what you can build, not what you destroy. To those who cling to power through corruption and deceit and the silencing of dissent, know that you are on the wrong side of history; but that we will extend a hand if you are willing to unclench your fist.”
If you have yet to read either of his books, I highly suggest you do. I read his first book “Dreams from my Father” many many years ago. I bought it on whim in high school, having no idea who the author was or who he would become. I was on my break at work and walked over to target to kill time. Something about it caught my eye and then something about his story moved me. Years later I saw him on Oprah after he had become Illinois’ senator, putting a face to the name. I immediately dusted the book off my shelf and read it cover to cover again. I then went and bought his second book, “The Audacity of Hope” which was equally ground breaking. If you couldn’t watch the inauguration speech, I urge you to at least read the address. It will be quoted until the end of your days and beyond, I am sure of it.
Waiting on a small prayer, lost in a nightmare
December 26, 2008
For as long as I can remember I have longed for a relationship with my father. A real relationship. I try in the depths of night to remember even a single memory from my childhood of my father, and I cant. The heart wrenching part of it all is that growing up we have always lived under the same roof, ate the same meals. I remember being 8 and my mother sitting us down on our back porch wanting to have a discussion about 'how daddy could be a better daddy'. All that remains in the corners of my mind is sitting in a completely uncomfortable silence and looking at my father who clearly was only interested in the score of the Redskins Game. That was probably about the time I let go of all expectations. That was when I found it necessary to build my now highly evolved defensive mechanism, equipped with an army of soldiers ready for war at any moment. Zero expectations = Zero disappointments. I was eight and I understood that.
I spent the rest of my childhood waiting. All of my brothers have always had 'issues'. I have always been self sufficient. I put myself to bed since I was in kindergarten. I wish I was joking. They never worried about me. I read my own bedtime stories, rolled over and then woke myself up in the am for school. I would get off the bus, go home and do my homework unprompted. I always made straight A's, I simply always did what I was supposed to do. My fondest memories of childhood were when my mother would sit beside my bed and tell me stories. With age it has given me a much different vantage point. I stayed up at night waiting for her to be done with 'the boys'. I would fight sleep until I heard those footsteps. Waiting in anticipation I would think of questions to ask her. Anything. Anything at all. I remember on several occasions pretending not to know how to braid hair just so she would touch mine.
Both of my brothers have always been projects. They always needed guidance. They still do. Somehow in the wake of loosing my mother, I have found myself a mother to a 61 year old, a 24 year old and a 19 year old. Once upon a time I judged my mother for enabling every male in my family to be completely dependent imbeciles who couldn't fend for themselves. I was determined to leave, never look back and never be like any of 'them'. I wanted in the root of my soul to depart on whim with little explanation and write from another country and make everyone wonder. I had the next ten years of my life figured out. Undergrad in 3 years, 2nd internship, peace corps, MSA, CPA and then real world in London, Prague, Rome, Sydney - anywhere. Nothing would stop me. Nothing could. I had always been a freight train. Now I fear I have become the enabling agent. I can't let go and watch them fall on their faces. I just cant. Not yet.
Every obstacle I thought life once held for me, I now realize were all walls I built for myself. I existed in my own prison doing a sentence only I had cast upon myself. I once thought I was incapable of real relationships with anyone, male or female. I thought I couldn't be a real friend because I wasn't capable, I could never trust but more than that I feared I could never love. Allowing a male in my life permanently, well that was simply out of the question. Males were the enemy. Good for nothing. I had always taken care of myself, I planned on making my own money what did I need a guy for? I didnt want children, I was afraid I was irreparably like my father - cold. The truth is I was absolutely petrified of being hurt. Paralyzed even. I simply couldn't handle someone leaving me. It was my biggest fear - abandonment.
Then the rug was pulled right out from underneath me. My biggest fears realized. My foundation was completely shattered. The only person I had ever expected to be there, the only thing that had really remained constant in my life. The only person who really knew me, gone. Where do you go with that? Well, all I can say is it was a long ugly dark road that I refuse to ever revisit.
But, in the wake of loosing my mother, I was given my father. That was her final gift. A man who I hardly knew and hardly cared to know was suddenly the only person I had to look up to, to make proud. And this too has been a long, bumpy road. We are two peas in a pod – both undoubtedly always right. But the key was, I had to forgive him. I just had to, for survival.
Growing up my friends always called my dad 'the phantom' because he was this mystical character that everyone knew existed but no one saw. I'm not sure which is worse growing up completely without a father, or growing up knowing you were being ignored on daily basis. He never came to a single softball game, soccer game, girl scout meeting. He never saw a single speech I gave. Not even in high school when I had the honor to compete in the final round of the New York State math fair, and won bronze. I remember after my freshman year in college I was on my way to interview for an internship over the summer (which I ended up getting –whohoo) and our printer at home wouldn't work. So, I frantically emailed him my resume so he could print it at his work. When I went to pick it up, he handed it to me and said 'Wow Kate, I really had no idea you'd done all of this'. In that instant I wanted to take a two by four and smack him across the head with it and say 'I know, I remember. You weren't there'. But true to form instead I smiled, said thank you and walked away, heart still beating on the floor.
It is so odd now though. I have an amazing relationship with my father. The man who is with me now, is not the man I grew up with. It is difficult to resent someone for actions that are so out of their character to date. (FYI, he just walked in brought me a cup of coffee and kissed me on the forehead to say good morning.) He just didn't know how to relate – to anyone. At one point probably the most emotionally unintelligent person I'd ever encountered. He couldn't hug. He couldn't say I love you. It just wasn't in him. This man is not the same one that at nine years old watched me cry on the cold floor of my bedroom for over and hour, yelling all the while because I wasn't 'intelligent' enough to figure out the combination of pieces to the arm of the vacuum to dust my dresser. He defined 'tough love'. In many ways I owe him a large thank you for making me a fighter. He grew up with the old southern view of holding women and men on different levels. I was hell bent on proving him wrong. I would do my brothers outdoor chores for free just to show him I too could chop wood for the fireplace and could climb on the roof. I was no dainty girl. I was tough. Something that has never left me. I have always been the girl that rather than sunbathing hops on the wake board, jet ski whatever and comes home with bruises rather than a tan. (And yes, I am also the girl who goes grocery shopping in four inch pumps haha - you can take the girl outta long island but..) I owe that to him. If a boy could do it, was going to as well there were always going to be equal playing fields. Something that has been so beneficial in my mindset for the workforce. And I guess growing up with four brothers helped in that too. I grew up 'playing' football with them. In reality it was pass the ball to Kaitie and then plummet her to the ground. I would get the wind knocked out of me so frequently that it didn't even phase me any more. I would get up, wait for my lungs to inflate and then chase them down. Its almost comical because now the thing I most frequently hear from my father is that "It doesn't make you less of a women to let a man help you Kate." A lesson I am going to have to learn the hard way, my entire upbringing tells me otherwise.
My brothers and I call him "SD", he is either 'SuperDad' showing up with all these lavish gifts for no reason at all, or he was 'SpermDoner' dad who had simply given you your genetic code and nothing more was expected. He would fix his inability to show love with buying us things. I had my first Louis Vuitton at 14, and a Prada backpack at 15, just because. Every birthday I'd get a new diamond or ruby ring. First diamond studs - second grade, that's absurd. When your that young, and you live on long island mind you, things like this make your father really really cool. Five months after my Twenty-first birthday my dad gave me this gorgeous diamond, ruby and sapphire double sided heart pendant necklace- in platinum, as a birthday present because he felt guilty for a fight we had just been in and for not getting me anything on my actual birthday. And mind you, he bought it on a vacation he just took with his new girlfriend in an effort to play the good dad role in front of her. I looked at it and told him while I would love to wear it, I would never be able to. I was no longer a pre-teen who could be bought, the whole thing was a sham and I gave it back. I still have no idea what he did with it. Those types of gifts are empty and make for an empty shell where a heart should be. I have always said to my friends that I would give it all up, all of it if I could just have him, him in his entirety the way it was meant to be.
Cosmically I have gotten my wish in every sense of the word. Stock market – crash. Because of my fathers health he has to retire. Too bad 401K's are face value at the time of retirement. 60% of all savings gone. Let me stress the importance of diversified stock portfolios people. The jig is up ladies and gents. And that's just life. I grew up in this lavish world and thankfully all the while I knew it was fake. I'm so glad I am intelligent enough to create my own career rather than try to ride the curtails of a man. I see a lot of my 'fortunate' friends who live in this bubble and just think daddy or hubby will always work things out for you. Wake up ladies. I cant even relate to my Raleigh friends, everyone is the Jones' and everyone is racing to keep up.
I have had several people tell me I am making a mistake in moving in with my father and transferring to NC State, even though I was about to graduate. I couldn't disagree more. Other than the obvious physical need, he needs someone to emotionally take care of him too. The psyche of a patient is sometimes your best weapon. This is the fight of his life, but it's the fight of mine as well. Every deep seeded issue I have comes from a lack of a relationship with him. I have one shot to fix it, one - for the rest of my life. I will be damned if I'm going to waste it in Wilmington taking shots at some bar while my father prepares to leave this world. To me that is the most selfish scenario and I cant even wrap my head around people telling me – THAT is what I should be doing. That my friends is not living. What I am doing now and what I am preparing to do is where life is, in every good and bad sense. If I've learned anything its that we cant get to the absurdly fulfilling moments in life with out being prepared to experience the muck. I don't know how long hes got. But whether its three months or three years, I'm right where I need to be – from reading to him during chemo treatments and fixing him vegetable soup to making him take his meds and bandaging his wounds. But most importantly to make him laugh.
While I would love to hold onto my father for all of eternity, I know this is not possible. I will be so thankful if he makes it through this next year and blessed if into the next. I cant think about everything at one time. It breaks my heart for him and for my mother. He will never walk me down the isle of my wedding and he will never meet my children. And it hurts that none of my children will ever know the capacity that their grandparents would have loved them. What hurts more is both of my parents knew none of these blessings would be a part of their future. I cant begin to imagine how that could feel on a daily basis.
Similarly I have had people tell me they cant imagine how I feel on a daily basis. Once upon a time it would bother me to hear these things, to have people tell me they envied my strength. In my mind, its not about me at all. Right now its about my dad. And there is not a single thing about my situation that anyone envies. What does strength mean anyway? Getting a really shitty hand of cards at life and still waking up in the morning? Either way I view it differently now. I see how I impact people. For some reason I have the ability to speak to people, a tool I am intent on cultivating. If I can help you get through your day, what could possibly be more honorable than that? Somehow I know I am bound for truly great things. I feel it in my soul.The almost ironic part is that all this has been the best blessing in the worst disguise. And I am so impossibly happy that I am not sure I could ever put my feelings into words. I feel like I don't even have the right to be happy. I feel like in the wake of everything it is so impossibly ridiculous that I could wake up with a genuine smile on my face. Many of my friend's parents tell me that I am not at all what they expected, because I seem so happy and bubbly. The only response I know to give, is that it is a daily conscience decision. Hope and optimism are where the struggle is. Cynicism is so easy, who couldn't put all their woes in a basket and count them? I am determined to not allow life to make me bitter, even in all the ugly despair it can bring. Their is nothing more tragic than a cynic that still has youth to me.
With every ounce of my body I need to believe in miracles. I have to believe that something out of the ordinary can come out to this, because this entire situation is out of the ordinary. We have defied statistics in even being troubled with this most tragic and rare form of cancer TWICE that I have to believe that we can defy all odds again and he can survive this. I have to believe. He can be part of that 3% that make it past two years right? Stage IV, whatever. We can lick this. Right? Right?!
His next treatment is on the 29th. He'll be released on the third. I had planned on going to NYC for new years, and I will be spending it in a much different way than I originally thought. We try and make light of shitty situations though. Ive made cheese plates and were bringing sparkling grape juice for all the nurses. I have all kinds of decorations, which is a surprise to the big man , Im just adding to Peters Party Palace. That's what he actually calls his chemo room. After his first surgery he came out and looked and me and asked me why I looked so glum. He said that while we were there we might as well have a party, and 50 cent and lil' kim were going to show up at any moment. That was about when he began rapping about how amazing it was these doctors were getting him doped up. God, I love this man and his reliance. He gets his first full body CT scan since this nightmare started back in August on December the 29th. I am crossing every finger, toe, limb that Ive got. It has already metastasized, we found that out at diagnosis but I just need to hear good news. I need it. I really think we deserve a break.
In loosing my mother, somehow I found my father. I pray that in loosing my father, I will find myself.
For as long as I can remember I have longed for a relationship with my father. A real relationship. I try in the depths of night to remember even a single memory from my childhood of my father, and I cant. The heart wrenching part of it all is that growing up we have always lived under the same roof, ate the same meals. I remember being 8 and my mother sitting us down on our back porch wanting to have a discussion about 'how daddy could be a better daddy'. All that remains in the corners of my mind is sitting in a completely uncomfortable silence and looking at my father who clearly was only interested in the score of the Redskins Game. That was probably about the time I let go of all expectations. That was when I found it necessary to build my now highly evolved defensive mechanism, equipped with an army of soldiers ready for war at any moment. Zero expectations = Zero disappointments. I was eight and I understood that.
I spent the rest of my childhood waiting. All of my brothers have always had 'issues'. I have always been self sufficient. I put myself to bed since I was in kindergarten. I wish I was joking. They never worried about me. I read my own bedtime stories, rolled over and then woke myself up in the am for school. I would get off the bus, go home and do my homework unprompted. I always made straight A's, I simply always did what I was supposed to do. My fondest memories of childhood were when my mother would sit beside my bed and tell me stories. With age it has given me a much different vantage point. I stayed up at night waiting for her to be done with 'the boys'. I would fight sleep until I heard those footsteps. Waiting in anticipation I would think of questions to ask her. Anything. Anything at all. I remember on several occasions pretending not to know how to braid hair just so she would touch mine.
Both of my brothers have always been projects. They always needed guidance. They still do. Somehow in the wake of loosing my mother, I have found myself a mother to a 61 year old, a 24 year old and a 19 year old. Once upon a time I judged my mother for enabling every male in my family to be completely dependent imbeciles who couldn't fend for themselves. I was determined to leave, never look back and never be like any of 'them'. I wanted in the root of my soul to depart on whim with little explanation and write from another country and make everyone wonder. I had the next ten years of my life figured out. Undergrad in 3 years, 2nd internship, peace corps, MSA, CPA and then real world in London, Prague, Rome, Sydney - anywhere. Nothing would stop me. Nothing could. I had always been a freight train. Now I fear I have become the enabling agent. I can't let go and watch them fall on their faces. I just cant. Not yet.
Every obstacle I thought life once held for me, I now realize were all walls I built for myself. I existed in my own prison doing a sentence only I had cast upon myself. I once thought I was incapable of real relationships with anyone, male or female. I thought I couldn't be a real friend because I wasn't capable, I could never trust but more than that I feared I could never love. Allowing a male in my life permanently, well that was simply out of the question. Males were the enemy. Good for nothing. I had always taken care of myself, I planned on making my own money what did I need a guy for? I didnt want children, I was afraid I was irreparably like my father - cold. The truth is I was absolutely petrified of being hurt. Paralyzed even. I simply couldn't handle someone leaving me. It was my biggest fear - abandonment.
Then the rug was pulled right out from underneath me. My biggest fears realized. My foundation was completely shattered. The only person I had ever expected to be there, the only thing that had really remained constant in my life. The only person who really knew me, gone. Where do you go with that? Well, all I can say is it was a long ugly dark road that I refuse to ever revisit.
But, in the wake of loosing my mother, I was given my father. That was her final gift. A man who I hardly knew and hardly cared to know was suddenly the only person I had to look up to, to make proud. And this too has been a long, bumpy road. We are two peas in a pod – both undoubtedly always right. But the key was, I had to forgive him. I just had to, for survival.
Growing up my friends always called my dad 'the phantom' because he was this mystical character that everyone knew existed but no one saw. I'm not sure which is worse growing up completely without a father, or growing up knowing you were being ignored on daily basis. He never came to a single softball game, soccer game, girl scout meeting. He never saw a single speech I gave. Not even in high school when I had the honor to compete in the final round of the New York State math fair, and won bronze. I remember after my freshman year in college I was on my way to interview for an internship over the summer (which I ended up getting –whohoo) and our printer at home wouldn't work. So, I frantically emailed him my resume so he could print it at his work. When I went to pick it up, he handed it to me and said 'Wow Kate, I really had no idea you'd done all of this'. In that instant I wanted to take a two by four and smack him across the head with it and say 'I know, I remember. You weren't there'. But true to form instead I smiled, said thank you and walked away, heart still beating on the floor.
It is so odd now though. I have an amazing relationship with my father. The man who is with me now, is not the man I grew up with. It is difficult to resent someone for actions that are so out of their character to date. (FYI, he just walked in brought me a cup of coffee and kissed me on the forehead to say good morning.) He just didn't know how to relate – to anyone. At one point probably the most emotionally unintelligent person I'd ever encountered. He couldn't hug. He couldn't say I love you. It just wasn't in him. This man is not the same one that at nine years old watched me cry on the cold floor of my bedroom for over and hour, yelling all the while because I wasn't 'intelligent' enough to figure out the combination of pieces to the arm of the vacuum to dust my dresser. He defined 'tough love'. In many ways I owe him a large thank you for making me a fighter. He grew up with the old southern view of holding women and men on different levels. I was hell bent on proving him wrong. I would do my brothers outdoor chores for free just to show him I too could chop wood for the fireplace and could climb on the roof. I was no dainty girl. I was tough. Something that has never left me. I have always been the girl that rather than sunbathing hops on the wake board, jet ski whatever and comes home with bruises rather than a tan. (And yes, I am also the girl who goes grocery shopping in four inch pumps haha - you can take the girl outta long island but..) I owe that to him. If a boy could do it, was going to as well there were always going to be equal playing fields. Something that has been so beneficial in my mindset for the workforce. And I guess growing up with four brothers helped in that too. I grew up 'playing' football with them. In reality it was pass the ball to Kaitie and then plummet her to the ground. I would get the wind knocked out of me so frequently that it didn't even phase me any more. I would get up, wait for my lungs to inflate and then chase them down. Its almost comical because now the thing I most frequently hear from my father is that "It doesn't make you less of a women to let a man help you Kate." A lesson I am going to have to learn the hard way, my entire upbringing tells me otherwise.
My brothers and I call him "SD", he is either 'SuperDad' showing up with all these lavish gifts for no reason at all, or he was 'SpermDoner' dad who had simply given you your genetic code and nothing more was expected. He would fix his inability to show love with buying us things. I had my first Louis Vuitton at 14, and a Prada backpack at 15, just because. Every birthday I'd get a new diamond or ruby ring. First diamond studs - second grade, that's absurd. When your that young, and you live on long island mind you, things like this make your father really really cool. Five months after my Twenty-first birthday my dad gave me this gorgeous diamond, ruby and sapphire double sided heart pendant necklace- in platinum, as a birthday present because he felt guilty for a fight we had just been in and for not getting me anything on my actual birthday. And mind you, he bought it on a vacation he just took with his new girlfriend in an effort to play the good dad role in front of her. I looked at it and told him while I would love to wear it, I would never be able to. I was no longer a pre-teen who could be bought, the whole thing was a sham and I gave it back. I still have no idea what he did with it. Those types of gifts are empty and make for an empty shell where a heart should be. I have always said to my friends that I would give it all up, all of it if I could just have him, him in his entirety the way it was meant to be.
Cosmically I have gotten my wish in every sense of the word. Stock market – crash. Because of my fathers health he has to retire. Too bad 401K's are face value at the time of retirement. 60% of all savings gone. Let me stress the importance of diversified stock portfolios people. The jig is up ladies and gents. And that's just life. I grew up in this lavish world and thankfully all the while I knew it was fake. I'm so glad I am intelligent enough to create my own career rather than try to ride the curtails of a man. I see a lot of my 'fortunate' friends who live in this bubble and just think daddy or hubby will always work things out for you. Wake up ladies. I cant even relate to my Raleigh friends, everyone is the Jones' and everyone is racing to keep up.
I have had several people tell me I am making a mistake in moving in with my father and transferring to NC State, even though I was about to graduate. I couldn't disagree more. Other than the obvious physical need, he needs someone to emotionally take care of him too. The psyche of a patient is sometimes your best weapon. This is the fight of his life, but it's the fight of mine as well. Every deep seeded issue I have comes from a lack of a relationship with him. I have one shot to fix it, one - for the rest of my life. I will be damned if I'm going to waste it in Wilmington taking shots at some bar while my father prepares to leave this world. To me that is the most selfish scenario and I cant even wrap my head around people telling me – THAT is what I should be doing. That my friends is not living. What I am doing now and what I am preparing to do is where life is, in every good and bad sense. If I've learned anything its that we cant get to the absurdly fulfilling moments in life with out being prepared to experience the muck. I don't know how long hes got. But whether its three months or three years, I'm right where I need to be – from reading to him during chemo treatments and fixing him vegetable soup to making him take his meds and bandaging his wounds. But most importantly to make him laugh.
While I would love to hold onto my father for all of eternity, I know this is not possible. I will be so thankful if he makes it through this next year and blessed if into the next. I cant think about everything at one time. It breaks my heart for him and for my mother. He will never walk me down the isle of my wedding and he will never meet my children. And it hurts that none of my children will ever know the capacity that their grandparents would have loved them. What hurts more is both of my parents knew none of these blessings would be a part of their future. I cant begin to imagine how that could feel on a daily basis.
Similarly I have had people tell me they cant imagine how I feel on a daily basis. Once upon a time it would bother me to hear these things, to have people tell me they envied my strength. In my mind, its not about me at all. Right now its about my dad. And there is not a single thing about my situation that anyone envies. What does strength mean anyway? Getting a really shitty hand of cards at life and still waking up in the morning? Either way I view it differently now. I see how I impact people. For some reason I have the ability to speak to people, a tool I am intent on cultivating. If I can help you get through your day, what could possibly be more honorable than that? Somehow I know I am bound for truly great things. I feel it in my soul.The almost ironic part is that all this has been the best blessing in the worst disguise. And I am so impossibly happy that I am not sure I could ever put my feelings into words. I feel like I don't even have the right to be happy. I feel like in the wake of everything it is so impossibly ridiculous that I could wake up with a genuine smile on my face. Many of my friend's parents tell me that I am not at all what they expected, because I seem so happy and bubbly. The only response I know to give, is that it is a daily conscience decision. Hope and optimism are where the struggle is. Cynicism is so easy, who couldn't put all their woes in a basket and count them? I am determined to not allow life to make me bitter, even in all the ugly despair it can bring. Their is nothing more tragic than a cynic that still has youth to me.
With every ounce of my body I need to believe in miracles. I have to believe that something out of the ordinary can come out to this, because this entire situation is out of the ordinary. We have defied statistics in even being troubled with this most tragic and rare form of cancer TWICE that I have to believe that we can defy all odds again and he can survive this. I have to believe. He can be part of that 3% that make it past two years right? Stage IV, whatever. We can lick this. Right? Right?!
His next treatment is on the 29th. He'll be released on the third. I had planned on going to NYC for new years, and I will be spending it in a much different way than I originally thought. We try and make light of shitty situations though. Ive made cheese plates and were bringing sparkling grape juice for all the nurses. I have all kinds of decorations, which is a surprise to the big man , Im just adding to Peters Party Palace. That's what he actually calls his chemo room. After his first surgery he came out and looked and me and asked me why I looked so glum. He said that while we were there we might as well have a party, and 50 cent and lil' kim were going to show up at any moment. That was about when he began rapping about how amazing it was these doctors were getting him doped up. God, I love this man and his reliance. He gets his first full body CT scan since this nightmare started back in August on December the 29th. I am crossing every finger, toe, limb that Ive got. It has already metastasized, we found that out at diagnosis but I just need to hear good news. I need it. I really think we deserve a break.
In loosing my mother, somehow I found my father. I pray that in loosing my father, I will find myself.
Thoughts on Prop 8
November 21. 2008
*I originally posted this with a video post of Keith Olbermann's Special comment in response to prop 8, because I thought it was so well said*
The problem as it seems to me is that many people don't view gay people as "being" gay in the same way that black people are black and women are women, but view them as simply making a "choice" on how to live their lives, and therefore don't seem to understand that preventing them from marrying each other is taking away their rights.
Also, a lot of people I know think that marriage is a religious institution, and not a social contract. My point to challenge this is that government releases marriage certificates, not churches, and that if it were a religious institution, then churches would directly control who they marry and when. Could two people from different religions marry? Would atheists and agnostics be able to marry? Could priests and ministers from one religion marry two people from another religion? There are many tax and legal implications with marriage. Would the government just blanket-approve every marriage a church reported? Would churches have to recognized as such by the government for their marriages to be recognized?
Marriage is something for everyone, not just those who are religious, and the religions (those who seem to be blocking gay marriage) should not be allowed to legislate their views. How anyone thinks it's their right to take away another's rights I'll never know, but I guess bossing others around is the American Way.
*I originally posted this with a video post of Keith Olbermann's Special comment in response to prop 8, because I thought it was so well said*
The problem as it seems to me is that many people don't view gay people as "being" gay in the same way that black people are black and women are women, but view them as simply making a "choice" on how to live their lives, and therefore don't seem to understand that preventing them from marrying each other is taking away their rights.
Also, a lot of people I know think that marriage is a religious institution, and not a social contract. My point to challenge this is that government releases marriage certificates, not churches, and that if it were a religious institution, then churches would directly control who they marry and when. Could two people from different religions marry? Would atheists and agnostics be able to marry? Could priests and ministers from one religion marry two people from another religion? There are many tax and legal implications with marriage. Would the government just blanket-approve every marriage a church reported? Would churches have to recognized as such by the government for their marriages to be recognized?
Marriage is something for everyone, not just those who are religious, and the religions (those who seem to be blocking gay marriage) should not be allowed to legislate their views. How anyone thinks it's their right to take away another's rights I'll never know, but I guess bossing others around is the American Way.
To all you bitter republicans
November 6, 2008
"Liberalism is trust of the people tempered by prudence. Conservatism is distrust of the people tempered by fear." William E Gladstone, British Prime Minister
I am still so unwaveringly proud of this great country that we live in that I cant even bring myself to bubble over into anger over all of the disgraceful things I have been reading on myspace and facebook.
Ok, we get it! You are discontent. Well, we have been knocking our heads against a wall for the past 8 years watching our country's greatest resources exploited. (And while I would LOVE to take this moment to list stats and use political jargon, I am going to refrain. I know the underlying message of this will fall on deaf ears the second your values are attacked - so I almost regrettably bite my tounge.) The point is we have all been there, I had that pit in my stomach when Bush was reelected. We can all empathize with that, but what I refuse to empathize with is the level of HATE that I am seeing. I understand a lot of this hate is heightened because I reside in the Southern bible belt which breeds conservatism. But, it is absolutely ridiculous.
How can you not see that you are witnessing history? I don't particularly care who you voted for, put your inbred tendencies toward hate and stereotyping aside and see how wonderful it is how our country has come together. I haven't seen unity like this since September 11th. It breaks my heart honestly to watch a handful of your comments. I cant help but think when your grandchildren come up to you and want to know where you were and how you felt during this pivotal moment in history, that you will either 1) Lie and say it was wonderful and feel like you missed out on something so powerful. or 2) still be bitter, in which case I will pray for you.
Our entire country is riding the wave of Hope, and I just wish that everyone had enough wisdom to put their differences aside and Respect what a triumphant win this is for not just democrats and not just blacks - but for mankind as a whole. Your political opinions are inconsequential to me, but bitching about it is not going to change anything. I learned that a long time ago. Obama is going to be your president for the next four years whether you are enthusiastic about it or not. So embrace it, he's not going anywhere. Instead find an issue in your local community that you find yourself passionate about. Volunteer your time rather than wasting it over heated arguments. When they are over all you have done successfully is raise your blood pressure and possibly strain your vocal chords. At the end of the day, both of you walk away not feeling any differently, aside from the growing disdain you have created for the opposite party and its affiliates. If you feel so passionate about it get up and do something, find your political home base and fight for issues you do believe in rather than bitching about ones you don't. After the 2004 election, I picked myself up off the floor joined college democrats and started campaigning again. Obama won Virgina and North Carolina, and party wise he shouldn't have. Its because people whom he inspired donated time and money and got the job done. I have spent countless hours registering people, talking to people and knocking on doors - in BOTH NC and VA. Yes thats right, I even went to a state I could never vote in to fight for what I believed. I campaigned in Prince William County in VA, and if you actually know anything about politics you would know this was a MAJOR county in Obama's winning VA, at which point he was declared our next President. So to all you bitter people: did you do anything to support your beloved McCain? Did all of you even show up at the polls? Point blank, don't talk about it - be about it.
I realize the root of the issue is that Liberals tend to define success in that as their society as a whole. When there are children that go to sleep at night starving and cold, we can not shut our eyes with out knowing we have made an active effort to CHANGE and aid these families. When our 95 year old neighbor must decided between medications and meals we go to Washington and pharmicudical companies with pitch forks. We think everyone deserves a fair chance, which means giving others a leg up to level playing fields. Conservatives define their successes in that of themselves and their family. Every man is for themselves and if you are unemployed it is obviously because you are lazy and a greedy welfare mongrel. They hold the church and its "will" in highest esteem, and homosexuals are 6 headed monsters who should be put on an island somewhere so they don't continue to spread their "mental disease" and gay marriage is some silly left wing ding bat idea that should remain secularized.
My point is Liberals and Conservatives are NEVER going to see eye to eye, this is nothing new. But, you are not going to leave the mark on society you desire using hate. No one will listen to your message. And this goes both ways. To all Obama supporters, the best way you can do yourself and your country justice is to take the higher road. When two people argue, from a distance you both look like fools despite who "wins". By getting angry and fighting back, you unfortunately have lived up to the narrow minded stereotypes they hold of you - and you instantly become who they THINK you are.
"Liberalism is trust of the people tempered by prudence. Conservatism is distrust of the people tempered by fear." William E Gladstone, British Prime Minister
I am still so unwaveringly proud of this great country that we live in that I cant even bring myself to bubble over into anger over all of the disgraceful things I have been reading on myspace and facebook.
Ok, we get it! You are discontent. Well, we have been knocking our heads against a wall for the past 8 years watching our country's greatest resources exploited. (And while I would LOVE to take this moment to list stats and use political jargon, I am going to refrain. I know the underlying message of this will fall on deaf ears the second your values are attacked - so I almost regrettably bite my tounge.) The point is we have all been there, I had that pit in my stomach when Bush was reelected. We can all empathize with that, but what I refuse to empathize with is the level of HATE that I am seeing. I understand a lot of this hate is heightened because I reside in the Southern bible belt which breeds conservatism. But, it is absolutely ridiculous.
How can you not see that you are witnessing history? I don't particularly care who you voted for, put your inbred tendencies toward hate and stereotyping aside and see how wonderful it is how our country has come together. I haven't seen unity like this since September 11th. It breaks my heart honestly to watch a handful of your comments. I cant help but think when your grandchildren come up to you and want to know where you were and how you felt during this pivotal moment in history, that you will either 1) Lie and say it was wonderful and feel like you missed out on something so powerful. or 2) still be bitter, in which case I will pray for you.
Our entire country is riding the wave of Hope, and I just wish that everyone had enough wisdom to put their differences aside and Respect what a triumphant win this is for not just democrats and not just blacks - but for mankind as a whole. Your political opinions are inconsequential to me, but bitching about it is not going to change anything. I learned that a long time ago. Obama is going to be your president for the next four years whether you are enthusiastic about it or not. So embrace it, he's not going anywhere. Instead find an issue in your local community that you find yourself passionate about. Volunteer your time rather than wasting it over heated arguments. When they are over all you have done successfully is raise your blood pressure and possibly strain your vocal chords. At the end of the day, both of you walk away not feeling any differently, aside from the growing disdain you have created for the opposite party and its affiliates. If you feel so passionate about it get up and do something, find your political home base and fight for issues you do believe in rather than bitching about ones you don't. After the 2004 election, I picked myself up off the floor joined college democrats and started campaigning again. Obama won Virgina and North Carolina, and party wise he shouldn't have. Its because people whom he inspired donated time and money and got the job done. I have spent countless hours registering people, talking to people and knocking on doors - in BOTH NC and VA. Yes thats right, I even went to a state I could never vote in to fight for what I believed. I campaigned in Prince William County in VA, and if you actually know anything about politics you would know this was a MAJOR county in Obama's winning VA, at which point he was declared our next President. So to all you bitter people: did you do anything to support your beloved McCain? Did all of you even show up at the polls? Point blank, don't talk about it - be about it.
I realize the root of the issue is that Liberals tend to define success in that as their society as a whole. When there are children that go to sleep at night starving and cold, we can not shut our eyes with out knowing we have made an active effort to CHANGE and aid these families. When our 95 year old neighbor must decided between medications and meals we go to Washington and pharmicudical companies with pitch forks. We think everyone deserves a fair chance, which means giving others a leg up to level playing fields. Conservatives define their successes in that of themselves and their family. Every man is for themselves and if you are unemployed it is obviously because you are lazy and a greedy welfare mongrel. They hold the church and its "will" in highest esteem, and homosexuals are 6 headed monsters who should be put on an island somewhere so they don't continue to spread their "mental disease" and gay marriage is some silly left wing ding bat idea that should remain secularized.
My point is Liberals and Conservatives are NEVER going to see eye to eye, this is nothing new. But, you are not going to leave the mark on society you desire using hate. No one will listen to your message. And this goes both ways. To all Obama supporters, the best way you can do yourself and your country justice is to take the higher road. When two people argue, from a distance you both look like fools despite who "wins". By getting angry and fighting back, you unfortunately have lived up to the narrow minded stereotypes they hold of you - and you instantly become who they THINK you are.
Che Dio benedica la mia famiglia.
October 28, 2008
Che Dio benedica la mia famiglia. La tenga al sicuro. Grazie per ogni giorno. Grazie per permettere a mia madre (che possa riposare in pace) di proteggermi. Per favore tieni mio padre e mio fratelli fra le tue braccia protettive. Amo la mia famiglia e non avrei niente e non sarei niente senza di te. Amen.
Che Dio benedica la mia famiglia. La tenga al sicuro. Grazie per ogni giorno. Grazie per permettere a mia madre (che possa riposare in pace) di proteggermi. Per favore tieni mio padre e mio fratelli fra le tue braccia protettive. Amo la mia famiglia e non avrei niente e non sarei niente senza di te. Amen.
F*ckkkkkk
August 10, 2008
Stage IV Sarcoma?
BOTH of my parents?
.....One in ONE HUNDRED MILLION?!
.....let me write that out for you. 1 out of 100,000,000 people.
God, we need to have a serious confrence. This is just not fair.
ps. fuck you. im only 22.
Stage IV Sarcoma?
BOTH of my parents?
.....One in ONE HUNDRED MILLION?!
.....let me write that out for you. 1 out of 100,000,000 people.
God, we need to have a serious confrence. This is just not fair.
ps. fuck you. im only 22.
I'll be your stepping stone, your not alone.
August 7, 2008
Mother nature sure hasn't been stingy with her share of curve balls thrown right down my family's plate. I am still not sure how to process all that is about to happen to me.
My Dad's hip has been really bothering him the past few months. We automatically attributed it to gout. He has been frequently getting attacks in his ankles. Since my mom has passed he has been getting attacks much more frequently. There's no one to harass him about eating correctly anymore :) Anyway we assumed he just had a really bad attack. So he had a few X-rays and CT Scans done and they came back well.... somewhat questionable. He called me last Monday and told me he was going in for a biopsy on Wednesday morning. Without hesitation, I rearranged my work schedule and drove to Raleigh. I know from past experience he has a tendency to sugar coat the truth and Im a straight forward kinda girl. I prefer it straight up, between the eyes. I've learned I can only recieve that type of info straight from the doctor.
So, back to Duke it was. I hadn't been back since almost exactly two years ago when we had to "sign papers". This Saturday, August 9th, is two years. (God, what were you thinking?) We walked into the Oncology ward and my heart sunk. I knew every corner, every list to put our names on, even the nurses. Almost comically I even recognized certain magazines, obviously they update their selection frequently. We didn't sit long. It is almost tragic that we know exact times to make appointments for different procedures so you wait the least amount of time.
.... To the examination room...
My heart sinks a bit further when in walks Dr. Brigman, still adorned with his ever-perfect bow tie and long white coat. I know what it means to meet Dr. Brigman and unfourtunely so does my Dad. He was one of my mother's doctors. He specializes in Sarcoma, the type of cancer my mother had. This is the most rare and also the most aggressive form of cancer. It first develops in the soft tissue near a joint and eventually metastasizes, taking over. It is incurable, they can only keep your tumors from getting larger, they cant get rid of them. Which means you have to treat your sites until you pass, because the tumors never go away - they are "controlled". Statistically 97% of patients pass away within 2-5 years of their first diagnosis. My mother fought tirelessly through almost two years. I caught watery eyes with my father. All you can do is keep breathing. He was petrified, as was I.
They performed the biopsy and then we spoke to Dr. Brigman for a bit. He remembered my mom. For some reason the whole staff there seems to remember her. She had a way of leaving an impact on everyone she met. She was an eternal optimist, despite everything she was faced with she never forgot to fight everyday with a smile.
Our results from the first biopsy came back inconclusive. He goes into surgery Friday morning and hopefully will be released saturday sometime - "the 9th". I pray with every ounce in my body this isn't sarcoma. I simply don't know what we will do.
God, you must be trying to make me strong for something later in life. But, Im not sure I can take another swing just yet.
Mother nature sure hasn't been stingy with her share of curve balls thrown right down my family's plate. I am still not sure how to process all that is about to happen to me.
My Dad's hip has been really bothering him the past few months. We automatically attributed it to gout. He has been frequently getting attacks in his ankles. Since my mom has passed he has been getting attacks much more frequently. There's no one to harass him about eating correctly anymore :) Anyway we assumed he just had a really bad attack. So he had a few X-rays and CT Scans done and they came back well.... somewhat questionable. He called me last Monday and told me he was going in for a biopsy on Wednesday morning. Without hesitation, I rearranged my work schedule and drove to Raleigh. I know from past experience he has a tendency to sugar coat the truth and Im a straight forward kinda girl. I prefer it straight up, between the eyes. I've learned I can only recieve that type of info straight from the doctor.
So, back to Duke it was. I hadn't been back since almost exactly two years ago when we had to "sign papers". This Saturday, August 9th, is two years. (God, what were you thinking?) We walked into the Oncology ward and my heart sunk. I knew every corner, every list to put our names on, even the nurses. Almost comically I even recognized certain magazines, obviously they update their selection frequently. We didn't sit long. It is almost tragic that we know exact times to make appointments for different procedures so you wait the least amount of time.
.... To the examination room...
My heart sinks a bit further when in walks Dr. Brigman, still adorned with his ever-perfect bow tie and long white coat. I know what it means to meet Dr. Brigman and unfourtunely so does my Dad. He was one of my mother's doctors. He specializes in Sarcoma, the type of cancer my mother had. This is the most rare and also the most aggressive form of cancer. It first develops in the soft tissue near a joint and eventually metastasizes, taking over. It is incurable, they can only keep your tumors from getting larger, they cant get rid of them. Which means you have to treat your sites until you pass, because the tumors never go away - they are "controlled". Statistically 97% of patients pass away within 2-5 years of their first diagnosis. My mother fought tirelessly through almost two years. I caught watery eyes with my father. All you can do is keep breathing. He was petrified, as was I.
They performed the biopsy and then we spoke to Dr. Brigman for a bit. He remembered my mom. For some reason the whole staff there seems to remember her. She had a way of leaving an impact on everyone she met. She was an eternal optimist, despite everything she was faced with she never forgot to fight everyday with a smile.
Our results from the first biopsy came back inconclusive. He goes into surgery Friday morning and hopefully will be released saturday sometime - "the 9th". I pray with every ounce in my body this isn't sarcoma. I simply don't know what we will do.
God, you must be trying to make me strong for something later in life. But, Im not sure I can take another swing just yet.
turbulent and yet triumphant
June 25, 2008
My life has been a crazy mess for so long. Where do I even begin? Do I even begin? For the first time I don't feel the burning necessity to explain all the reasons of why I am sometimes less than perfect. Why I too am capable of faltering. What a revelation. Who are you? What do I owe you? Nothing. Kaitie. Nothing. I owe you nothing. I owe myself everything. Everything. Kaitie. Everything.
These past six years of my life have been such a roller coaster. How cliché. Actually in all truth it's been far from a roller coaster. Those have ups and downs and twists and turns. It has been more of a flat floating type of numb nothingness existence mixed with exuberant loads of self medication. My social lubricant, Tequila.
And so here is the raw truth…no excuses, no bull shit.
And emerges, my metal heart. A poor attempt at self preservation. My young mind unable to comprehend September 11th. All the ways that fatal day changed my life, and all the fears that emerged. All the funerals. I almost lost my father, again. The "what-if" road was long and traitorous. Frozen. Absent from life. Scared. Enter North Carolina. The polarity of the cultures is self explicable. My world was turned on its head. And with each day building the wall a bit higher. Trusting a little bit less.
Sarcoma cancer. Two years of sleepless nights at Duke Hospital, every weekend throughout college. Re-adjusting bandages. Chemo treatments. Shave Mothers head. Wig shopping. Set up hospital bed in living room. Frozen. Worst fear manifests into reality. Sign the papers. Call the crematory. Organize a funeral. Put together a eulogy. Thrown back into everyday life at nineteen and somehow try to make sense of it. Frozen. Enter Tequila.
Sleep all day, drink all night. Twenty pounds worth of fast food and beer. Withdrawal from school. Build a cave and set up camp. Feel sorry for yourself. Feel really sorry for yourself. Date a lot of boys, break a lot of hearts. End it before they get close. Completely stop world from revolving for two years. Drink some more just to make sure reality escapes you.
Enter new boy. Keep boy away with ten foot poll, despite overwhelming evidence. Create villainous character for boy in order to remain unattached. Lots of tequila for the scared little girl. Throw boy away, like all the rest. A metal heart is not capable of love. Boy stays. Complete disbelief. Despite HIS past, the boy stays.
Enroll back in school. Decide to double major. Travel the world. Visit all of Mother's old sites. Go to school in Germany.Searching. Searching for something missing. Do anything seemingly exhilarating. Jump off a cliff. Go skydiving. Shout from Austrian hilltop. Hike on a glacier. Nothing. Zipline down mountain. Rent mo-ped and ride up Swiss Alps, nothing. Land self in Swiss hospital, with Swiss police. Concussion. Alone. Write to boy, hesitantly. Buy a lot of crap. Get drunk.
Come home. Everything changes. Family in shambles. Father with new girlfriend. Brother shipped off to west coast for bad behavior. Sell family dog. Rid of Mothers belongings. Put house up for sale.Try to make sense of things. Complete breakdown. Numb. Scared.
Continue to push boy away. Get mad when boys commitment waivers after over a year of childish games. But still boy decides to stay.
Somehow day by day boy knocks iron clad wall down. Clouds begin to dissipate. Boy melts metal heart. Stop heavily drinking. Begin to accept reality. Visit Mothers grave. Pray. Let boy love. Allow self to love. Try to establish relationship with father again. Loose twenty pounds of fast food and beer. Visit west coast brother. Rid self of toxic friends. Regain old friendships, make new ones. Realize home is simply a state of mind. Gain control. Return to Life. Fearlessness. Empowerment. Gratitude. And lastly, happiness. Sweet, Divine, Blissful Happiness.
So make way world, this girl is here to stay.
My life has been a crazy mess for so long. Where do I even begin? Do I even begin? For the first time I don't feel the burning necessity to explain all the reasons of why I am sometimes less than perfect. Why I too am capable of faltering. What a revelation. Who are you? What do I owe you? Nothing. Kaitie. Nothing. I owe you nothing. I owe myself everything. Everything. Kaitie. Everything.
These past six years of my life have been such a roller coaster. How cliché. Actually in all truth it's been far from a roller coaster. Those have ups and downs and twists and turns. It has been more of a flat floating type of numb nothingness existence mixed with exuberant loads of self medication. My social lubricant, Tequila.
And so here is the raw truth…no excuses, no bull shit.
And emerges, my metal heart. A poor attempt at self preservation. My young mind unable to comprehend September 11th. All the ways that fatal day changed my life, and all the fears that emerged. All the funerals. I almost lost my father, again. The "what-if" road was long and traitorous. Frozen. Absent from life. Scared. Enter North Carolina. The polarity of the cultures is self explicable. My world was turned on its head. And with each day building the wall a bit higher. Trusting a little bit less.
Sarcoma cancer. Two years of sleepless nights at Duke Hospital, every weekend throughout college. Re-adjusting bandages. Chemo treatments. Shave Mothers head. Wig shopping. Set up hospital bed in living room. Frozen. Worst fear manifests into reality. Sign the papers. Call the crematory. Organize a funeral. Put together a eulogy. Thrown back into everyday life at nineteen and somehow try to make sense of it. Frozen. Enter Tequila.
Sleep all day, drink all night. Twenty pounds worth of fast food and beer. Withdrawal from school. Build a cave and set up camp. Feel sorry for yourself. Feel really sorry for yourself. Date a lot of boys, break a lot of hearts. End it before they get close. Completely stop world from revolving for two years. Drink some more just to make sure reality escapes you.
Enter new boy. Keep boy away with ten foot poll, despite overwhelming evidence. Create villainous character for boy in order to remain unattached. Lots of tequila for the scared little girl. Throw boy away, like all the rest. A metal heart is not capable of love. Boy stays. Complete disbelief. Despite HIS past, the boy stays.
Enroll back in school. Decide to double major. Travel the world. Visit all of Mother's old sites. Go to school in Germany.Searching. Searching for something missing. Do anything seemingly exhilarating. Jump off a cliff. Go skydiving. Shout from Austrian hilltop. Hike on a glacier. Nothing. Zipline down mountain. Rent mo-ped and ride up Swiss Alps, nothing. Land self in Swiss hospital, with Swiss police. Concussion. Alone. Write to boy, hesitantly. Buy a lot of crap. Get drunk.
Come home. Everything changes. Family in shambles. Father with new girlfriend. Brother shipped off to west coast for bad behavior. Sell family dog. Rid of Mothers belongings. Put house up for sale.Try to make sense of things. Complete breakdown. Numb. Scared.
Continue to push boy away. Get mad when boys commitment waivers after over a year of childish games. But still boy decides to stay.
Somehow day by day boy knocks iron clad wall down. Clouds begin to dissipate. Boy melts metal heart. Stop heavily drinking. Begin to accept reality. Visit Mothers grave. Pray. Let boy love. Allow self to love. Try to establish relationship with father again. Loose twenty pounds of fast food and beer. Visit west coast brother. Rid self of toxic friends. Regain old friendships, make new ones. Realize home is simply a state of mind. Gain control. Return to Life. Fearlessness. Empowerment. Gratitude. And lastly, happiness. Sweet, Divine, Blissful Happiness.
So make way world, this girl is here to stay.
people are as happy as they make their minds up to be
January 23, 2008
I’ve spent almost the entirity of my weekend moping around feeling sorry for myself. I removed myself from almost all social aspects this weekend. I was being selfish. Two of my best friends each happened to have their parents in town this weekend. We were all supposed to go to dinner and go out for drinks afterward. At first I was so excited about seeing them all. I love family, I love other peoples family. I think you learn so much about a person when you see where they came from and how they interact with those that know them best. Anyway somehow prior to either of their arrivals I siked myself out somewhere right before dinner time friday night. I barely made it through one of the dinners. I bailed out on everyone. I even bailed out on my boyfriend. I went to bed solo and hosted a pity party. Attendees, just one...me. Reason? I cant help but feel sad when Im around my girlfriends and their parents, especially their mothers. They have what I never will be able to, no amount of money or hardwork will ever bring me to the finish line of this race. They have something I was robbed of, something I never got to experience. Something I never will have the chance to. Unfortunately there are no substitutes for this sort of thing. There is no runner up. It is the unattainable....for me. And the most difficult part is watching how blind they are and the inability to see how precious it is. I get so tired of coming home from loooong days at school and work and hearing my girls gripe about stupid boy problems or how their mom or dads wont stop calling, emailing, texting them. Sometimes I want to shake them and say "Do you know how lucky you are that these are your biggest problems?!?!" It is more difficult to see first hand interactions, hear conversations, hear plans about birthday parties and graduation parties and weddings, put my envy aside and be happy for them and accept that these - are not apart of my future.
I watch my bosses 26 year old son walk all over her and act as if he is nineteen years old. He’ll come in and take money or food from the spa and not stop to say hello, or thank you. - You should always say Hello, always say Thank You, always say I Love You and never leave without saying Goodbye. Please. These few words mean so much. - I get angry when I see random people on the street arguing at each other. I get angry when I see people getting taken advantage of. I get angry when mothers and daughters come into the spa for facials or mani/pedis and the daughters EXPECT these things beacuse they are not taught by their mothers that this is not reality. And then I have to ask these snotty eight year olds if they would like sugar in their hot tea.
But then, I remember I would have been all of these people, I would have done all of these things if my life had been a bit different too. I probably sat there barely hitting puberty expecting for my nails to get painted. I probably wouldve taken a 20 dollar bill without saying anything and later used the excuse of "it was for groceries" knowing I had just been to a bar. I probably would have bitched when I got good advice I didnt want to hear. I probably would have expected presents at Christmas. I probably would have expected a Graduation party. I probably would have moaned every time I was asked for a return phone call, bc my life probably would have been SOOO busy that it was just too much of a hassle. I probably would have been ungrateful. And then I realize, this is exactly why I should be so grateful. Because today, I am none of these things - and I would have been. I was given this gift at a young age. And in the end it will help me be a better friend, a better sister, aunt, niece, cousin, girlfriend, wife, mother, grandmother.
So, it is now 5:30 in the morning and I have yet been able to sleep - like most nights. What is different about this night? Tonight while laying here looking straight into nothingness I realize I can not judge these people whom I know nothing about, I can not judge my friends and I can not continue to feel sorry for myself. Simply because, well these peoples lives are not my own. I can not expect you to have learned from my life lessons. Thats ridiculous. Frustrating? Hell yes. But tonight I realized where to point my frustrations at, myself. I am angry because I was the girl who grew up with this false sense of reality that has now hit me in the face like a ton of bricks and Im now left to find truth out on my own. I am angry because these people all have what I WISH I had. I want for them what I WISH I had done, because I am now riddled with regret that I fear I will never free myself from. And I want to make sure they too never stay up nights playing the "what-if" game. But it is not my place. None of it is. My place is to accept my past and present for what they are, and make the ABSOLUTE BEST of my future. I have no other choice. It is my place to recognize things could have been so much worse, and things could still get worse. So, enjoy today for what it is. Take the moments you get and hold them really close, you have no idea what your future holds. So tonight, I CHOOSE to be happy, because some nights you just have to make it a decision.
I’ve spent almost the entirity of my weekend moping around feeling sorry for myself. I removed myself from almost all social aspects this weekend. I was being selfish. Two of my best friends each happened to have their parents in town this weekend. We were all supposed to go to dinner and go out for drinks afterward. At first I was so excited about seeing them all. I love family, I love other peoples family. I think you learn so much about a person when you see where they came from and how they interact with those that know them best. Anyway somehow prior to either of their arrivals I siked myself out somewhere right before dinner time friday night. I barely made it through one of the dinners. I bailed out on everyone. I even bailed out on my boyfriend. I went to bed solo and hosted a pity party. Attendees, just one...me. Reason? I cant help but feel sad when Im around my girlfriends and their parents, especially their mothers. They have what I never will be able to, no amount of money or hardwork will ever bring me to the finish line of this race. They have something I was robbed of, something I never got to experience. Something I never will have the chance to. Unfortunately there are no substitutes for this sort of thing. There is no runner up. It is the unattainable....for me. And the most difficult part is watching how blind they are and the inability to see how precious it is. I get so tired of coming home from loooong days at school and work and hearing my girls gripe about stupid boy problems or how their mom or dads wont stop calling, emailing, texting them. Sometimes I want to shake them and say "Do you know how lucky you are that these are your biggest problems?!?!" It is more difficult to see first hand interactions, hear conversations, hear plans about birthday parties and graduation parties and weddings, put my envy aside and be happy for them and accept that these - are not apart of my future.
I watch my bosses 26 year old son walk all over her and act as if he is nineteen years old. He’ll come in and take money or food from the spa and not stop to say hello, or thank you. - You should always say Hello, always say Thank You, always say I Love You and never leave without saying Goodbye. Please. These few words mean so much. - I get angry when I see random people on the street arguing at each other. I get angry when I see people getting taken advantage of. I get angry when mothers and daughters come into the spa for facials or mani/pedis and the daughters EXPECT these things beacuse they are not taught by their mothers that this is not reality. And then I have to ask these snotty eight year olds if they would like sugar in their hot tea.
But then, I remember I would have been all of these people, I would have done all of these things if my life had been a bit different too. I probably sat there barely hitting puberty expecting for my nails to get painted. I probably wouldve taken a 20 dollar bill without saying anything and later used the excuse of "it was for groceries" knowing I had just been to a bar. I probably would have bitched when I got good advice I didnt want to hear. I probably would have expected presents at Christmas. I probably would have expected a Graduation party. I probably would have moaned every time I was asked for a return phone call, bc my life probably would have been SOOO busy that it was just too much of a hassle. I probably would have been ungrateful. And then I realize, this is exactly why I should be so grateful. Because today, I am none of these things - and I would have been. I was given this gift at a young age. And in the end it will help me be a better friend, a better sister, aunt, niece, cousin, girlfriend, wife, mother, grandmother.
So, it is now 5:30 in the morning and I have yet been able to sleep - like most nights. What is different about this night? Tonight while laying here looking straight into nothingness I realize I can not judge these people whom I know nothing about, I can not judge my friends and I can not continue to feel sorry for myself. Simply because, well these peoples lives are not my own. I can not expect you to have learned from my life lessons. Thats ridiculous. Frustrating? Hell yes. But tonight I realized where to point my frustrations at, myself. I am angry because I was the girl who grew up with this false sense of reality that has now hit me in the face like a ton of bricks and Im now left to find truth out on my own. I am angry because these people all have what I WISH I had. I want for them what I WISH I had done, because I am now riddled with regret that I fear I will never free myself from. And I want to make sure they too never stay up nights playing the "what-if" game. But it is not my place. None of it is. My place is to accept my past and present for what they are, and make the ABSOLUTE BEST of my future. I have no other choice. It is my place to recognize things could have been so much worse, and things could still get worse. So, enjoy today for what it is. Take the moments you get and hold them really close, you have no idea what your future holds. So tonight, I CHOOSE to be happy, because some nights you just have to make it a decision.
Defining IT in a New Year
December 27, 2007
A good friend often says to me "I'm not sure what IT is, but whatever IT is - you get IT." This may or may not make sense to you, but when he said this to me I felt almost enlightened. It is such a simple sentence but when you get IT, you cant help but see the majority of people around you that dont get IT. If you understand the IT, than this will all make a world of sense to you. And if you don't, I hope one day you do. The IT is an understanding of life, and what makes a life full and worth living for. The IT is understanding other people and what they need, its having the ability to listen to others and know what they are trying to say without words. IT is a genuine caring for other people and their well-being. IT is about having the ability to empathize with another human being. IT is about having a warmth in your soul that no one can dim. IT is about refusing to settle for what you want most - but what you want most is not held in monetary value. IT is about being willing to give the shirt off your back to someone who really needs it because you know you have several at home or could just buy a new one. IT is about bettering yourself, and knowing that in the quest for this it is not about a larger house or a more diversified stock portfolio, but becoming the best version of you that is possible. IT is about not sweating the small shit that doesnt matter. Who cares what the guy or girl down the street looks like, is wearing, is doing, is saying, is thinking? Let her do her, and you DO YOU. IT is about knowing that to be a complete person is not about the newest manolo blahnik's but having a complete heart - one that is not riddled with hate. IT is about knowing that the big screen tvs will come to you on their own because you are bound for success. You seek success but define your success in the depth of relationships with other people and the mark you leave on society. When you define success in this way it is inevitable that you are bound for happiness. And although you pick up a new coach or two along the way they are simply possessions and do not possess you. When you understand the IT you actually understand the difference between the two and these words have real meaning to you. And its not just something to claim as how you live your life because you already do and the people in your life already know it.
At my mothers funeral service in the midst of my tears my godmother turned to me and told me to look around and see how loved I was. She brought to my attention that their were three entire pews filled with people from my past, and that I was the only one there with that kind of support. Some were from high school whom I hadn't spoken to in months, some in years. Some from college who didn't even know my mother had been sick, which I now regret keeping a secret. But none the less they all traveled from their schools, different cities, different states to come support me. What amazed me the most was that I made only two phone calls to people, the rest was by word of mouth. She then said to me that although she hadnt been terribly close to me in years, this alone spoke volumes and she already knew what kind of person I was by seeing the degree that everyone cared for me. She said she could see that I was my mothers daughter and how she was determined to learn more. In the midst of the confusion of the day, it went in one ear and out the other. In the many months since it has been something that has resonated with me. She is now one of my best allies, I hold her opinion right next to my own.
When my mother passed an old friend who worked with the NY Board of Education created a scholarship in my mothers name. In leiu of food and flowers we asked for donations from people and the response was breathtaking. An unmentionable amount of money was donated to the American Cancer Society in her name. Eight months later in April her old Relay for life team, Debbie's Patriots, re-grouped themselves even in her absence. Prior to the event the school held rallies and fundraisers at football and basketball games, the teachers volunteered themselves to teacher auctions, bake sales, car washes. It was amazing to witness. My father and I watched it all come together in awe. Partially because she wasnt the principal, she wasnt even a teacher. She was working to stay busy. She was just the cheerful lady in student services who was always smiling. The whole thing created such a buzz around town that the Raleigh newspaper decided to do a piece on Relay for Life, and used my mothers story as the highlighting piece. The morning of the walk my dad and I sat and opened the paper and my moms face was plastered all over the place. It was a pleasant suprise, a few of the teachers set it up - but they themselves thought it would be a small article. We cleaned every paper stand out that day before going to the walk. The whole thing was a 24 hour event where you stay up all night and walk laps raising money either prior or through sales at the event. A huge part of the student body from her school showed up, the whole football team and cheerleading squad. It was almost odd to watch all these people grieve for her and wear her picture. But then I realized these are the people she touched, these people are her legacy, I am her legacy. I just want to leave an impact on people, the way she did. She had an aire about her, so warm and so poised. The world was truly robbed of a good woman. But, I know I am bound for great things and I have my mother to lead me there.
This blog has changed so much from its original intent, but I guess what I really strive for in this new year is to be more like my mother - she defined the IT, if you will - and to only keep genuine people in my life that raise me up and continue to teach me and make me a better person. I want to remember to be thankful for all the blessings that I have in my life because sometimes this is a conscience effort. I think when you can manage to do this, everything else tends to fall into place.
A good friend often says to me "I'm not sure what IT is, but whatever IT is - you get IT." This may or may not make sense to you, but when he said this to me I felt almost enlightened. It is such a simple sentence but when you get IT, you cant help but see the majority of people around you that dont get IT. If you understand the IT, than this will all make a world of sense to you. And if you don't, I hope one day you do. The IT is an understanding of life, and what makes a life full and worth living for. The IT is understanding other people and what they need, its having the ability to listen to others and know what they are trying to say without words. IT is a genuine caring for other people and their well-being. IT is about having the ability to empathize with another human being. IT is about having a warmth in your soul that no one can dim. IT is about refusing to settle for what you want most - but what you want most is not held in monetary value. IT is about being willing to give the shirt off your back to someone who really needs it because you know you have several at home or could just buy a new one. IT is about bettering yourself, and knowing that in the quest for this it is not about a larger house or a more diversified stock portfolio, but becoming the best version of you that is possible. IT is about not sweating the small shit that doesnt matter. Who cares what the guy or girl down the street looks like, is wearing, is doing, is saying, is thinking? Let her do her, and you DO YOU. IT is about knowing that to be a complete person is not about the newest manolo blahnik's but having a complete heart - one that is not riddled with hate. IT is about knowing that the big screen tvs will come to you on their own because you are bound for success. You seek success but define your success in the depth of relationships with other people and the mark you leave on society. When you define success in this way it is inevitable that you are bound for happiness. And although you pick up a new coach or two along the way they are simply possessions and do not possess you. When you understand the IT you actually understand the difference between the two and these words have real meaning to you. And its not just something to claim as how you live your life because you already do and the people in your life already know it.
At my mothers funeral service in the midst of my tears my godmother turned to me and told me to look around and see how loved I was. She brought to my attention that their were three entire pews filled with people from my past, and that I was the only one there with that kind of support. Some were from high school whom I hadn't spoken to in months, some in years. Some from college who didn't even know my mother had been sick, which I now regret keeping a secret. But none the less they all traveled from their schools, different cities, different states to come support me. What amazed me the most was that I made only two phone calls to people, the rest was by word of mouth. She then said to me that although she hadnt been terribly close to me in years, this alone spoke volumes and she already knew what kind of person I was by seeing the degree that everyone cared for me. She said she could see that I was my mothers daughter and how she was determined to learn more. In the midst of the confusion of the day, it went in one ear and out the other. In the many months since it has been something that has resonated with me. She is now one of my best allies, I hold her opinion right next to my own.
When my mother passed an old friend who worked with the NY Board of Education created a scholarship in my mothers name. In leiu of food and flowers we asked for donations from people and the response was breathtaking. An unmentionable amount of money was donated to the American Cancer Society in her name. Eight months later in April her old Relay for life team, Debbie's Patriots, re-grouped themselves even in her absence. Prior to the event the school held rallies and fundraisers at football and basketball games, the teachers volunteered themselves to teacher auctions, bake sales, car washes. It was amazing to witness. My father and I watched it all come together in awe. Partially because she wasnt the principal, she wasnt even a teacher. She was working to stay busy. She was just the cheerful lady in student services who was always smiling. The whole thing created such a buzz around town that the Raleigh newspaper decided to do a piece on Relay for Life, and used my mothers story as the highlighting piece. The morning of the walk my dad and I sat and opened the paper and my moms face was plastered all over the place. It was a pleasant suprise, a few of the teachers set it up - but they themselves thought it would be a small article. We cleaned every paper stand out that day before going to the walk. The whole thing was a 24 hour event where you stay up all night and walk laps raising money either prior or through sales at the event. A huge part of the student body from her school showed up, the whole football team and cheerleading squad. It was almost odd to watch all these people grieve for her and wear her picture. But then I realized these are the people she touched, these people are her legacy, I am her legacy. I just want to leave an impact on people, the way she did. She had an aire about her, so warm and so poised. The world was truly robbed of a good woman. But, I know I am bound for great things and I have my mother to lead me there.
This blog has changed so much from its original intent, but I guess what I really strive for in this new year is to be more like my mother - she defined the IT, if you will - and to only keep genuine people in my life that raise me up and continue to teach me and make me a better person. I want to remember to be thankful for all the blessings that I have in my life because sometimes this is a conscience effort. I think when you can manage to do this, everything else tends to fall into place.
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