Have you ever had a moment in your life that was so profoundly special, you just knew you'd carry it with you forever? I've been blessed to have already had a couple. They aren't always easy. In fact, they usually aren't. Yet, these moments leave you with something sacred, just for yourself, to hold on to.
In 5 months I will be married. It's an occasion that I look forward to celebrating as the happiest day of my life. When I walk down that aisle, I'll be surrounded by the people who love me most in the whole world. People who want nothing more than to see Hubby-to-be and me happy. There will be a little sadness for both of us when we think of the people we love, who aren't with us on our special day. But I have a special moment to uplift me with reassurance in that moment.
My mommom, my Dad's mom was an incredible woman. Truly, there is no one like her. She was kind and good, and hilarious without meaning to be. She spoke her mind and had no inner sensor. Her honesty was at once refreshing and awkward. She was a mother to seven and a grandmother to 14, great grandmother to 2. Last Christmas, something in me knew her time was dwindling. Being a lifelong smoker and lifelong caretaker of everyone but herself, had slowed her down significantly. Really, after my Grandfather lost his lengthy battle with Parkinson's Disease, it was as if her body finally caught up with her. I remember feeling the need to have a photo taken of Hubby-to-be and me with Mommom, just so I'd have it always. I'm glad I did. Christmas '07 was the last time Hubby-to-be saw her. There were a number of medical catastrophes that led to her death. But essentially what it came down to was that she had lung cancer, and refused treatment. By the time Easter rolled around, she was in hospice care. My poor Mommom. She had a paralyzed larynx and could barely whisper. She had a hole in her throat. Over the weekend she fell and hit her head in the bathroom. And above all else, she was a shell of the woman she once was. She couldn't and wouldn't eat. She didn't want to live anymore. And who could blame her? I am at a loss for words to describe how in awe I am of her determination to go on her own terms. She was in control. She decided she would not suffer. I am... I am just so proud of her. But it was difficult. It was as if she was holding on for Easter. To see her family. She even forced herself to come to my Aunt and Uncle's house for Easter dinner to spend time with us. She sat in her chair, and even ate some ice cream. We took turns sitting and talking with her. We all held it together very well. Until, it came time for my moment.
She had decided she needed to go back to the home. My dad and my uncles were getting ready to take her. I sat down next to her wheelchair and held her frail, paper-thin hand. I told her I loved her and that I was sorry we weren't able to spend more time together in our lives, (I grew up 4 hours away from her) but I wanted her to know that I remember everything. She shook her head and looked me in the eye and whispered,"You were always so loyal." then, the moment I will carry with me forever. "I'm sorry I won't be there on your wedding day. I'm just so tired." The tears overflowed and I couldn't hold it anymore. It was as if she read my mind. It was what I feared from the day we got engaged. That my mommom wouldn't make it that long. I felt as if i'd been kicked in the stomach. Through the tears I fought to say, "It's okay. I know you're tired. And I know you'll be there with me on that day." She looked back at me, nodded, and said, "Yes, I will be." Mommom passed away three days later. She went peacefully with several of her children by her side. My aunt read her the 23rd Psalm, and my dad held her hand. She stopped breathing as my aunt read the final line; "Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever." I don't know if you could ask for a more dignified, peaceful death.
I miss her dearly. We all do. On my wedding day, when I think of her, I am sure I will cry. But I will know, because she told me so, that she is there with me. And I will hold onto that moment, that promise, for the rest of my life. I am so grateful to have had it.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Time for Some Honesty
Or not. I just wrote nearly an entire entry on a deeply personal matter. But I just couldn't bring myself to hit "Publish Post". Instead, I hit delete. I suppose writing it should have been therapeutic enough. I don't know. I guess, despite being one of the most outspoken people I know, there are just some things I can't let out in the world for judgement and scrutiny. I guess I also don't see how writing about it was going to change anything. We all have our battles...
Friday, December 19, 2008
It's The Most Wonderful Time of The Year
Anyone who have ever known me, knows that I love Christmas. My countdown begins in October, around the same time I start listening to Christmas music on the radio stations that boast the continuous format from October 1st through December 25th. I'm "that girl". I always have been. So what is it about the season that I love so much? That's a great question. Is it fair to say, "everything"?
I feel particularly nostaglic about my wonderful childhood around this time of year. Memories of waiting in order of age on the stairs so that we could all march down and get that first glimpse of Santa's generosity together, the sticky buns my mimi and da would bring from Viking Pastry in Philadelphia, the rush to get home from church on Christmas Eve and in bed before Santa skipped our house, it was all so magical. It still is. We are at the point in our family where my brother and I are both married or getting married. We don't have kids, yet. My grandparents are getting older, and the trip is getting harder to make. Yet, to me, there is still nothing like the warm feeling in my heart when the chaos of life gets set aside and tradition persists. I've always been a stickler for Christmas tradition. But, as life changes, I'm learning to adjust.
This year is the first year that the Hubby-to-be and I will be spending Christmas morning together. It's tough because he is an only-child. If he's not with his parents on Christmas morning, they are alone. In the same breath, my brother spends Christmas morning with his wife's family, if I'm not with mine, my parents and Grandparents are alone. There's no good answer. But I think we've come up with the best possible solution. Unfortunately that means that Hubby-to-be and I will be logging many miles to see everyone we love. To me, it's worth it. And to help the situation, it was actually my mom-in-law who suggested we spend Christmas morning with my parents, then come to them in the afternoon. Hearing her say it, made me feel so much better about it.
The bottom line is that I am so fortunate. The fact that my biggest problem is that I have too many loved ones to see in a day is the best problem to have. So we will drive, a lot. we will feel rushed and spread thin. But it will all be worth it. and in the end, when Christmas is over and it's time to head back to work, I'll feel sad, as I always do. Because to me, it truly is the most wonderful time of the year.
I feel particularly nostaglic about my wonderful childhood around this time of year. Memories of waiting in order of age on the stairs so that we could all march down and get that first glimpse of Santa's generosity together, the sticky buns my mimi and da would bring from Viking Pastry in Philadelphia, the rush to get home from church on Christmas Eve and in bed before Santa skipped our house, it was all so magical. It still is. We are at the point in our family where my brother and I are both married or getting married. We don't have kids, yet. My grandparents are getting older, and the trip is getting harder to make. Yet, to me, there is still nothing like the warm feeling in my heart when the chaos of life gets set aside and tradition persists. I've always been a stickler for Christmas tradition. But, as life changes, I'm learning to adjust.
This year is the first year that the Hubby-to-be and I will be spending Christmas morning together. It's tough because he is an only-child. If he's not with his parents on Christmas morning, they are alone. In the same breath, my brother spends Christmas morning with his wife's family, if I'm not with mine, my parents and Grandparents are alone. There's no good answer. But I think we've come up with the best possible solution. Unfortunately that means that Hubby-to-be and I will be logging many miles to see everyone we love. To me, it's worth it. And to help the situation, it was actually my mom-in-law who suggested we spend Christmas morning with my parents, then come to them in the afternoon. Hearing her say it, made me feel so much better about it.
The bottom line is that I am so fortunate. The fact that my biggest problem is that I have too many loved ones to see in a day is the best problem to have. So we will drive, a lot. we will feel rushed and spread thin. But it will all be worth it. and in the end, when Christmas is over and it's time to head back to work, I'll feel sad, as I always do. Because to me, it truly is the most wonderful time of the year.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Working To Live. Not Living To Work.
There is a statement that I am striving to live by. Not anything profound. Just a simple statement - a proclamation if you will. Its directed towards an assortment of people, but really mostly a reminder to myself.
"You have me for fifty hours a week, every week. You can't have any more of my life than that."
Simple. Not even a little bit eloquent. Just a statement. But I have to repeat it to myself when i'm lying in bed answering emails that are not necessarily urgent at 11:30 at night. Damn Blackberry.
Why do we put so much emphasis on our careers? Is it that important? Is the 9-5 (or 9-6) really what makes life worthwhile? The fact is that it's not just 9-5 because most people struggle with the same thing I struggle with - bringing my work home. I do it. My hubs-to-be does it. And really? It's like a virus seeping into every other area of life. At work - you're working. At home - you're thinking about what needs to be done, or should be done, or can't be done. At social gatherings - you talk about work. Enough! Is my life outside of work so devoid of excitement that work is the only thing I can discuss?
I suppose it sounds like I resent my j0b. I don't! I am fortunate to have an incredible job with awesome clients and amazing perks. But the fact is that I, like most people am doing a job far beyond my level of title or salary. Here we are in an economic crisis, with layoffs around the corner and I know better than to open my mouth and ask for a raise, but the fact is that I am doing the work that people making almost double what I make are doing. And it's unfair, and it makes me have to search pretty deep to find some motivation. But there's nothing to be done about it right now, so I keep my mouth shut and my fingers typing.
When I was up North doing my dream job, it truly was my life. Hubs-to-be was still down here working on his career. My friends up North were all doing the same job I was in the same company, so we really enabled one another to work constantly. And - I loved it. I was passionate about it. I didn't even mind that I was paid so poorly that it was hard to make ends meet. Deciding to leave gave me a chance to learn a very important lesson. An opportunity to really put life into perspective. - When I die; which could be today or 75 years from now, how do I want people to remember me? Do I want to be remembered as an all-star at my job? Someone who dedicated all of her time to making money and getting ahead? No. That's all superficial and frankly, it would mean I hadn't left the world any better than I found it.
I want to be remembered as someone who would do anything for the people she loved. Someone who had an incredible zest for life and experiences and people. When I die, I don't care if people don't even remember what I did for a job. I want to be remembered as a friend, a daughter, a sister, a wife, a mom. Not as someone with an impressive words-per-minute speed and a loaded bank account.
In conclusion, I suppose this is part of my journey. Finding a balance. Weighing my priorities, because the fact is; I have to work. The bills will keep coming, and one thing I know for certain; they aren't going to pay themselves. Oh the irony...
"You have me for fifty hours a week, every week. You can't have any more of my life than that."
Simple. Not even a little bit eloquent. Just a statement. But I have to repeat it to myself when i'm lying in bed answering emails that are not necessarily urgent at 11:30 at night. Damn Blackberry.
Why do we put so much emphasis on our careers? Is it that important? Is the 9-5 (or 9-6) really what makes life worthwhile? The fact is that it's not just 9-5 because most people struggle with the same thing I struggle with - bringing my work home. I do it. My hubs-to-be does it. And really? It's like a virus seeping into every other area of life. At work - you're working. At home - you're thinking about what needs to be done, or should be done, or can't be done. At social gatherings - you talk about work. Enough! Is my life outside of work so devoid of excitement that work is the only thing I can discuss?
I suppose it sounds like I resent my j0b. I don't! I am fortunate to have an incredible job with awesome clients and amazing perks. But the fact is that I, like most people am doing a job far beyond my level of title or salary. Here we are in an economic crisis, with layoffs around the corner and I know better than to open my mouth and ask for a raise, but the fact is that I am doing the work that people making almost double what I make are doing. And it's unfair, and it makes me have to search pretty deep to find some motivation. But there's nothing to be done about it right now, so I keep my mouth shut and my fingers typing.
When I was up North doing my dream job, it truly was my life. Hubs-to-be was still down here working on his career. My friends up North were all doing the same job I was in the same company, so we really enabled one another to work constantly. And - I loved it. I was passionate about it. I didn't even mind that I was paid so poorly that it was hard to make ends meet. Deciding to leave gave me a chance to learn a very important lesson. An opportunity to really put life into perspective. - When I die; which could be today or 75 years from now, how do I want people to remember me? Do I want to be remembered as an all-star at my job? Someone who dedicated all of her time to making money and getting ahead? No. That's all superficial and frankly, it would mean I hadn't left the world any better than I found it.
I want to be remembered as someone who would do anything for the people she loved. Someone who had an incredible zest for life and experiences and people. When I die, I don't care if people don't even remember what I did for a job. I want to be remembered as a friend, a daughter, a sister, a wife, a mom. Not as someone with an impressive words-per-minute speed and a loaded bank account.
In conclusion, I suppose this is part of my journey. Finding a balance. Weighing my priorities, because the fact is; I have to work. The bills will keep coming, and one thing I know for certain; they aren't going to pay themselves. Oh the irony...
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
The Perpetual Procrastinator
So here it is, December 10th, and my flaw is very obvious... Though totally well intentioned, I am a perpetual procrastinator. Why do today what can be put off until tomorrow? Well that mentality has never served me well, and is in fact screwing me as we speak.
For the sake of continuity, I should probably backtrack to the topic of my first two entries: Our new President Elect Barack Obama! Ladies and Gentlemen, I am so proud. I am so very hopeful. Not only did President Elect Obama win. He won by a landslide. He shifted traditionally Red states. He represents the wants, needs and desires of the American people - hope and change. I am excited for the day my children learn about the election of the first black president, when I can look them in the face and tell them that their mommy and daddy voted for him, did our part to promote his campaign, even had a Jack O'Lantern on our front porch with his name in it's mouth (I called it my Jack O'Bama). I am excited to tell them about the election night. How my mother called me crying tears of joy and relief when he won. How friends who never had an ounce of interest in politics were furiously facebooking one another as the results came in. It was one of those moments in history where you will always remember exactly where you were when it happened. It am still at a complete lack of words to describe what I felt the moment the words flashed on CNN that Barack Obama has been declared the next President of the United States of America. It was beautiful. Not because he's black - or even half black. That truly is irrelevant. My joy came from the fact that he is going to give new hope to this nation. He has inspired a nation.
Mr. Bush - There is the door. Don't let it hit you on the ass on the way out.
Recently i've been introduced to several blogs written by people I know and love. Reading them, and learning from them, and being quite entertained by them has inspired me to share the link to my blog with some people. It's a little scary for me - not unlike the idea of publishing my journals for public perusal - which, for the record, would never happen. But I feel empowered to let people in. So, I think I will. I make no guarantees to educate or even have the slightest effect on my readers lives, and I most certainly won't guarantee perfect grammar! This is simply a chance to take a look at what makes me tick. The good, the bad and the ugly.
For the sake of continuity, I should probably backtrack to the topic of my first two entries: Our new President Elect Barack Obama! Ladies and Gentlemen, I am so proud. I am so very hopeful. Not only did President Elect Obama win. He won by a landslide. He shifted traditionally Red states. He represents the wants, needs and desires of the American people - hope and change. I am excited for the day my children learn about the election of the first black president, when I can look them in the face and tell them that their mommy and daddy voted for him, did our part to promote his campaign, even had a Jack O'Lantern on our front porch with his name in it's mouth (I called it my Jack O'Bama). I am excited to tell them about the election night. How my mother called me crying tears of joy and relief when he won. How friends who never had an ounce of interest in politics were furiously facebooking one another as the results came in. It was one of those moments in history where you will always remember exactly where you were when it happened. It am still at a complete lack of words to describe what I felt the moment the words flashed on CNN that Barack Obama has been declared the next President of the United States of America. It was beautiful. Not because he's black - or even half black. That truly is irrelevant. My joy came from the fact that he is going to give new hope to this nation. He has inspired a nation.
Mr. Bush - There is the door. Don't let it hit you on the ass on the way out.
Recently i've been introduced to several blogs written by people I know and love. Reading them, and learning from them, and being quite entertained by them has inspired me to share the link to my blog with some people. It's a little scary for me - not unlike the idea of publishing my journals for public perusal - which, for the record, would never happen. But I feel empowered to let people in. So, I think I will. I make no guarantees to educate or even have the slightest effect on my readers lives, and I most certainly won't guarantee perfect grammar! This is simply a chance to take a look at what makes me tick. The good, the bad and the ugly.
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