How much things can change in one year...

CORRECTION: In my last post I stated that my friend had passed on September 12th. It was, in fact August 12th. The time seems to have run together.

Today, I received the news that Nancy and her husband are together again. Her husband joined her in heaven at 4am this morning, passing in his sleep. I am in a place of emotional confusion. I am sad because a life - a wonderful life - has ended too soon. I am relieved because the cancer had spread and my understanding is that the past few days were really awful. I am happy because husband and wife are together again. I am numb because this all happened so fast.

There is a photo on Nancy's facebook page of she and her husband 367 days ago. Halloween, 2008. Dressed as the members of KISS. Funny, happy, carefree. How could anyone have known that neither one of them would live to see the another Halloween. Of course we all know logically that another year is never guaranteed. But it still is a concept that is impossible to grasp.

I'm not sure how to end this. I'm not sure what else to say. I am so honored to have known both of these wonderful people. I am glad for them that they are together again. I am somehow changed by the cruelty of the whole situation. But I am choosing now to reflect on the memories I have of them younger, healthier and so completely in love with each other.

~ When someone you love becomes a memory, the memory becomes a treasure. ~

If I was you - i'd fire me.

*SIGH*... I am terrible at this. It's funny because I have my list of blogs that I read every.single.day. I rely on them as a part of my morning routine. And when they don't get updated for more than a period of several days, I get agitated. Then the little angel on my shoulder knocks on my skull - "Hey Dumbass! People in glass houses..." Yeah. I suck at blogging.
I suppose I can try to justify this by saying that I don't have much to share! Things are status quo, which, in many ways I am thankful for. I also know that there aren't many (if any) people reading my blog, so I don't feel much pressure to be interesting. Which is a relief.
Wedding-wise - the actual, honest-to-God end is in sight. I have about three thank you notes left to write. This weekend we have our album design meeting. Then it will all be done. I think i'll hold off on having babies just so that I can take a break from writing thank you notes! I kid, of course. We are so lucky to have such amazingly generous friends and family.
We are heading into the holiday season, which is the most exciting time of year for me. However, as anyone who has blended families knows, the splitting the holidays thing is difficult. It actually causes me an extraordinary amount of anxiety because I am so desperate to not hurt anyone's feelings. Hub is an only-child which complicates things exponentially. I have to keep reminding myself what my Dad always says when I get worked up about the holidays - "No one cares about this as much as you do." He's right, of course.
There has been some sadness in my time away. My dear friend Nancy, who was like a mom to me, passed away in September. The story is long and confusing and just tragic. Quick version - her husband was diagnosed with lung cancer last April. In May, Nancy was diagnosed as well, though it seemed that her prognosis was better than his. We prepared ourselves that we would likely lose him. They missed the wedding because Nancy was having surgery to remove her lung, which was supposed to remove the cancer all together. There was an infection that complicated things, followed by the discovery of a spot in her brain, which we were told could be removed. On September 12th in the morning I recieved an email that the cancer had spread everywhere. The doctors couldn't stop it and they gave her days, maybe weeks at best to live. She died at around noon that very day. It was incredibly, gut-wrenchingly tragic. Only to be made that much more tragic by the fact that her husband's cancer has spread. He is moving into hospice care today. I comfort myself with the knowledge that they will be together, but my heart absolutely aches for my friend's daughter, who cared for her mother, and now her stepfather with everything she had. How much is one person expected to handle? Fucking cancer...
I suppose that is really the biggest news in my life since last I wrote. I promise to try to do better at staying on top of this blogging thing. *pinky swear*

The Little Things

Being married feels different. I didn't think it would. In fact, I told myself it wouldn't because the fact is, I tend to fear change. But it does. It feels different. It feels better. Closer, more natural, more intimate.
Hubs and I have a very (possibly too) comfortable relationship. I am 100% myself around him and vise versa. We've been best friends for a long time. I didn't think it was possible to feel any closer to him than I did just 2 months ago. But there we were, standing in the upstairs bathroom of our home about 2 days after returning from our honeymoon. He looked at me in the mirror as I brushed my teeth and said, "I feel a lot closer to you now." I remember a feeling swelling in me, because it was such a simple statement, but so completely identical to what I was experiencing.
I think society portrays this image of a happy marriage being all about sex and money and the giant house with the perfect children and well-trained dog. But all that glitters isn't gold. I think a happy marriage comes from the little things. The small, intimate moments that perhaps an outsider wouldn't think twice about, but to the couple, it strikes a chord.
Since we married two months ago I have been consistently amazed by hubs. To just share one example - I fractured my foot two weeks after the wedding, playing volleyball at a family party. Hubs came running and swept me off my feet (literally). Carrying me across the lawn and up the tall stairs to the porch where his mom was waiting with ice and ibuprofen. In the next few days he waited on me in every possible way. I was so touched by his care and concern. He got tears in his eyes when he recalled the expression on my face from across the volleyball net when I landed on my foot. My pain was his pain. We are one.
Hubs is a bit old fashioned in some ways. He really wants to support me. He wants to make enough money that I will have the choice of working or not working. (For the record, except when I am home for the first few years of my kid's lives, I will always work in some way or another.) But I appreciate how he wants to give me security. He's one of the good ones. And he's all mine.
In writing this post, I recognized that I'm not sure he knows how much he's impressed me since the wedding. I think I will take the time tonight to really tell him how much I appreciate him. My mom always said, husbands need to be trained. If you like what they do, they need plenty of positive reinforcement, so that they keep it up! ha. My mom and her advice.. that's a post for another day.

Fortune Cookies

I keep fortunes. Well, I keep the poignant ones. I think though completely random and trivial, sometimes you will crack open that cookie and get one that just fits. Maybe it fits a conversation you've just had. Or maybe it relates to an important decision you are mulling over. Maybe its just downright funny. Any way you shake it, when I come across a fortune that rings true for me, I hang on to it.



I have a 10 fortunes hanging in my office in various places. I've kept them as reminders, or reasons to smile, or because occasionally they validate my feelings, as odd as that may sound.



Under the topic - Just because they are good things to remember, I have:

Any day above ground is a good day.

Common Sense is not so common.



For a little motivation or inspiration:

Winners make their own luck.

Your golden opportunity is coming.

Change your thoughts and you change the world.



For a little bit of advice to myself:

Think before sharing with others.

Avoid compulsively making things worse.

Do not give up, the beginning is always the hardest.



And under the topic of oh-so perfect for my life and certain people in it:

It's amazing how much good you can do it you don't care who gets the credit.



Ever get the feeling that there is some divine reason for certain things to fall into your hands when they do? Yeah, me too.

This is the day I make you mine.

Upon reflection on my last several blog entries, I am a bit dismayed at the fact that I come across as a fairly negative person. I suppose that could be because I write as a form of therapy, and I tend to need therapy most when I'm upset. But the fact is, I am a very happy person. I have an amazing life! I am very thankful for everything I have!
Did I tell you about my wedding day? I didn't. And I should have, because it was the most amazing day of my life.
June, 2009 was the least sunny June in recorded history. It rained practically daily. It was chilly every day. So as a bride, planning my outdoor garden wedding ceremony, I was nervous. Yes there was a rain plan, but I didn't like it. I wanted to ceremony that I had imagined for the 18 months since we had booked the venue. I started tracking the weather 10 days out. Which in hindsight, was a waste of time.
We met with the venue 2 days before the wedding to discuss final details. I was told that at 5:30 on my wedding day they would make a final decision as to where the ceremony would be. At that time the florist would start setting up the archway. Once it was set up, it could not be moved. I tried to imagine it placed in each of the possible locations. First choice was of course, the garden. The beautiful sunken garden that won my heart the moment I saw it. If the grass was too wet or the skies were threatening, we would move it to the inner courtyard. Not a terrible option, just not what I wanted. The final option - the dreaded rain plan - was to have the ceremony under the port cochere, the overhang from the main entrance where horse drawn carriages would have pulled up to the mansion to pick people up. This, to me, was the worst-case scenario.
On the morning of June 13th - my wedding day - I woke up to sunny skies and very comfortable temperatures. My heart soared! This was my wedding day and it was perfect! We spent the day getting ready for the 7pm service.
At about 5:30, I was all dressed and being photographed in the living room of my parent's house. Somewhere in the background I heard the phone ring. I heard talking. I stood up to go outside to take photos and my bridesmaids and my parents came around me and broke the news that they were setting up the archway in the inner courtyard. Tears. Immediate, unstoppable tears. I didn't understand! It was sunny out!! My dad gently told me that they had all been watching the doppler all day and there was a storm predicted right over our venue at 7pm. Of course. With encouraging words from my best friends, i did my best to stop the tears.
We went outside and took more photos. I begged my poor dad to call the venue and ask them to check the doppler again. He reminded me that once they set up the archway it couldn't be moved. I argued that the sun was still out. He told me that if we got to the venue and it was not raining, we could have the ceremony in the garden. We just wouldn't have the archway. I agreed, though the idea of not having the archway was really sad to me - this all might make me sound like a spoiled princess who needs to get her way, but trust me, when you've spent 18 months picturing something so monumentally important in your life, every detail is set, the smallest things feel important. - So as we climbed into the limo, my dad called the venue and informed them that if it wasn't raining, I wanted to have the ceremony in the garden.
The whole ride to the venue I focused. I was rolling down the window, inspecting the sky. Briefly it rained while we rode. I was making semi-jokes about moving the archway into the garden by myself, in my dress. I said I would ask the groomsmen to move it. In my head I was praying. I was praying to God, to my grandparents and hubs grandparents, to my pets, to anyone who might have been listening to please grant me a miracle. I admitted to knowing it was ridiculous to care so much about something so insignificant. It just mattered to me. I was also preparing myself. I was coaching myself that I needed to be happy because in the end, it didn't matter at all where the ceremony was. What mattered was that I was going to be married to my best friend. And that it would be a beautiful ceremony no matter what. But I would be lying if I said my heart wasn't a little bit heavy.
The limo pulled through the heavy gates and onto the property of the castle. As we rounded the corner, I looked out my window towards the garden. I saw chairs! They were setting up to have the ceremony outside! Wait - I thought- don't get too excited. They likely set up both places so that we could make last minute moves. But then, as we rounded the corner I saw a truck parked at the entrance of the garden AND a group of people was lowering the archway from the bed!! I shrieked! I couldn't believe it!! They were doing what they said couldn't be done! They were moving my archway! And again, I cried. I felt so grateful.
We drove up to the castle and the venue coordinator opened my limo door. "Thank you so much for moving my archway!" I exclaimed. She said she was happy to do it.
Once we were up in the bridal suite waiting for guests to arrive, the coordinator came up to me and said, "The storm that was overhead has dissipated. The worst you will get is a few sprinkles during the ceremony, but that's it."
She (and you) may think it was purely scientific, this sudden change in weather. I know it was something much more profound. It was a wedding day gift from my Mommom, who promised me on her deathbed that she'd be with me on my wedding day. It was a gift from my hub's Nana, who would have been so happy to see this day come. It was a miracle from my animals, who know that I carry their beautiful souls in my heart everywhere I go.
I married my husband in a wonderful ceremony in front of 200 very special people. We stood before a beautiful archway and said our vows. Throughout the ceremony, from the surrounding woods, you could hear a frog's soft, repetitive croak. It was a beautiful sound. Towards the end of the ceremony, it began to sprinkle. Soft, sporadic drops. And I couldn't feel a thing. I was on cloud nine. I was feeling (and I still feel) blessed beyond measure and so completely sure of the gifts I received on that day.

Back to reality

It's been a looooong time since i've posted. In that time I became a wife. I went to Jamaica on my honeymoon, and I fell in love with my husband all over again. Life is great. And yet, right now I feel oddly unsettled. My soul feels tired. I don't know how else to describe it. But I know it's entirely because of my job.
When I am home, with the hubs, I feel on top of the world and blessed beyond measure. But it's always there. Somewhere in my subconcious - a feeling of dread and discontent. Little matters become big issues. I feel inadequate. It's a suffocating feeling.
I work with a group of people with huge personalities. They are all great in certain ways and awful in certain ways. I try to block them out. Block out any drama they bring or comments they make. But it's very, very distracting. I am very easily distracted.
This entry is a bit rambling and muddled. That's because I am trying to work this out in my head as I type. I wonder if I might have an attention deficit issue. I feel no drive. I feel no motivation. I cannot prioritze at the moment. It's confusing and frustrating. Is it because I just don't care? Is that terrible?
There are people in the world who believe that if you do what you love, the money will come. I just don't know if that's true. I wish it was. But what do I love? I love animals. I love my family. I love my friends. I love feeling like i'm making a difference and that i'm appreciated. I love to feel like i'm good at what I do. I don't feel that right now. I don't feel like i'm succeeding right now. I think i'm just getting by.
I am sure that some of my emotions stem from the inevitable let-down after a major event. And they don't get much more major than your wedding day. But I -
Okay, update. My mom called. My sweet, wonderful mom who can sense my sadness all the way from Florida. She makes my soul feel better. Mom's are like that. It's a magic power that I can only hope I will have with my children.
I am going to make moves. I am going to confront issues. I am going to beat this because every moment I spend feeling down, is a moment wasted.
Here I go...

Short and Sweet

I just have to write this down to embed it into my conciousness for the day:

Today, I will be fine. I will do my best. I will be a good, friendly, kind, positive person. I will hold my head up high because I deserve to. I will work with my team for the most positive outcome possible. I will remind myself that though things may seem huge in the moment, certain things are just not that important in the grand scheme of things. Today I will be happy because I should be happy. Because life is too short not to be.

The Sad Truth

The sad truth is that real life is more horrifying than anything that can be dreamed up in the movies. As a news reporter I lived a life that brought me way to close for comfort to brutal crime scenes, grieving families, the inside of jail cells and cold, hard, truth. There's nothing like the feeling of standing feet from a body covered by a tarp. There is nothing like the self-loathing you feel when a family who has just lost a loved one screams at you to get the camera out of their faces. It was unbearable at times. And yet, it was my job. And it was one that I was passionate about. The fact is, if it wasn't me, it would be someone else. Where there is news, there are cameras, microphones and reporters on a mission.
Perhaps, one of my most profound moments in my brief career as a news reporter, came in the driveway of the home of a family whose 14 year old daughter had been murdered by a neighbor. We had gone to the arraigment of the boy, who was also a teenager. Then, as scheduled, we went to the home to meet with the young victim's dad. I can't even describe the feeling I had in my stomach. The dad had agreed to meet with me, and yet, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being horribly invasive and disrespectful. As a reporter, you are not supposed to show emotion, but it was all I could do to not cry along with him. He asked not to be filmed, so my photographer recorded photos of his beautiful daughter instead. I sat with him for probably about 40 minutes, the whole time my stomach was clenched in a knot. The victim's mother was in the kitchen with her sister, still so grief stricken that she could not speak. Her father told us what an amazing person she was. Her likes and dislikes, her plans for the future. Then he told us about that horrible day. I can hear the details like it was yesterday. We brought the interview to an end, and we quietly packed up our gear and left. I sat in the passenger seat of the news car and took a deep breath, trying to ease the knot I felt, all the while fighting back tears. My photographer, who had been in the industry for over 20 years, put his hand on my shoulder and said, "Are you okay?". I turned and asked, "Does it ever get easier?". He looked at me, shook his head and said, "I hope not." That was it. So simple, yet so profound. Because the fact is, over time, you do become numb. You find yourself standing at the scene of a house fire where a victim is missing, joking around with the other members of the media. Not because you're trying to be rude, or not realizing the impact of the situation, but because you've seen it before. And because if every time you responded to a scene, you allowed yourself to feel the truth of what is really happening, you couldn't possibly survive day after day of it. I survived almost two years. Long enough to see the young girl's killer plead guilty and be sentenced. I felt protective of that case and would never let another reporter in my station cover it. I felt that the best thing I could possibly do, in the position I was in, was to let the world know what a beautiful and bright life was lost. I hope I did that.
The reason this is all in the forefront of my mind is because of the brutal crime scene in Milton, Massachusetts today. I saw the coverage and have read the articles. I know one of my friends who is a photographer for a local station was there, camera rolling, when the parents came home and found out that three of their children were dead. I felt the knot in my stomach again, watching the footage of the mother fall to the ground screaming. And I felt so glad that it wasn't me standing there, microphone in hand, capturing that moment. It's all just too real.

No Patience

I have no patience today. It's been building for several days now. I am feeling so aggravated by the personality quirks of the people I work most closely with. As my blog indicates, my feelings towards them ebb and flow. They really are fun people and I enjoy them, for the most part. But the things that bother me about them, really, really bother me.
I don't understand how people can spend so much time and energy being vengeful and superficial. I find it truly draining and exhausting.
I know that i'm spreading myself too thin, right now. Between work, the wedding and the gym, I am so exhausted when I have down time, that I don't have the energy to take care of the little things that need to be done - cleaning my house, taking care of bills, etc. etc. I keep telling myself that there's a light at the end of the tunnel. I'm not sure where the tunnel ends, but i'm sure, wherever it does, there is a light!
What I need is to just have some me-time. Thank God, it's Friday! I have nothing that I have to do this weekend. I am going to be a little selfish, rest, spend time getting things done, and hope to have a fresh approach when i return here Monday morning.

Dreams

Wedding day is rapidly approaching! 93 days - 3 months from tomorrow! I am so excited/overwhelmed, and all of those emotions are translating into some interesting dreams. Most nights the wedding finds its way into my subconcience while I sleep. often the dreams are repetitive, like the (horrible) movie Groundhog Day. Whatever the crisis is in my dream, it repeats itself over and over in a different setting each time. The issues that come up are, in reality, trivial, and in some cases preventable, but in the world of dreamland, they are huge and overwhelming and very frustrating. Some of these dreams are more memorable than others. For example: Last week I dreamt over and over about it being time for me to walk down the aisle, and not being dressed or having my hair or make up done. It was in a different setting each time, and I cannot even say for sure, who was in the dreams with me, except that for some reason, there was a news crew with me. I'm not sure what that represented. Anyways, it was a pretty frantic dream, but simply solidified my need to have a schedule of sorts to follow on the big day.
Another dream I had - possibly even in that same night (they are running together in my head), was that I was up at the pulpit (which is odd, because i'm not getting married in a church) and there were several children on the "groom's side" in the congregation and they were talking and crying and making all sorts of noise. Now, anyone who knows me well, knows that this is a major pet peeve of mine, and something i've been really concerned about for my ceremony. Therefore we are not allowing children to come to the wedding (it is, afterall, an evening event). In my dream I was furious, and stopped the ceremony to address the situation.. clearly, that's been on my mind. Hopefully guests will respect our wishes to keep this an adult-only event.
The latest dream was the other night. This one also had me in my church. I was standing in the foyer and it was pouring outside. Then the next minute it was bright and sunny and totally dry, then a minute later it was back to pouring, and on and on.. Somehow I had gotten stuck in the rain and my hair was a stringy, wavy mess. I kept trying to fix it and put my veil on but it wouldn't fix and my veil wouldn't stay on... It's all very odd.
Anyways, I guess the dreams are just a sign that the wedding is always in the forefront in my thoughts. I can probably count on three more months of these dreams.
What's been particularly entertaining are the stories I've heard from other brides-to-be and friends who are married. Clearly, wedding nightmares are just part of the planning process. I wonder why there isn't a chapter on it in my planning books!!

Feeling Better

Last week was tough. In case that wasn't clear in my previous post. I was stressed, work was full of drama and I had PMS. Not a good combination. This week, i'm better! Thank God. Let's face face it, when you feel that angry and frustrated and emotional, there's no way NOT to bring that home with you, no matter how hard you try to seperate the lives.
Anyways, I have been sticking to my goal of going to the gym and eating better. I still cheat on the weekends, and I haven't seen the numbers move on the scale much, if at all. But I had a moment of triumph yesterday.
I'd decided not to go to my regularly scheduled Zumba class (new instructor, long story). But instead of giving in to the excuses and laziness, I coaxed my colleague and she agreed that we'd go and work out on our own. So we did. Seems like a pretty silly thing to be proud of, but I really am proud of us and myself, because it would have been much easier to go home, sit on the couch, and do nothing. But instead, I went to the gym. I wanted to do my usual 20 minutes on the elliptical, but I pushed for 30. When I got to thirty (350 calories burned), i felt energized and ready to keep going! So I hopped on a treadmill next to my colleague, and did a brisk walk for about 20 minutes. THEN I RAN!!! (Are you picturing Forrest Gump?) I was just going to try to run for a minute or so straight, which has always been a challenge to me because a, I have asthma and b, I am really out of shape. But I ran a minute, and kept going and going, I realized that I was close to the 5 minute mark and set my mind on reaching it, and i did!! Again, I recognize that this sounds like a laughable accomplishment, but trust me, it never would have happened before that I could run for 5 minutes straight without having a heart attack and dropping dead on the spot (or at least wheeze uncontrollably for a good 15 minutes afterwards). But none of that happened! I felt great! I felt energized! I felt like I was doing something so right for my body!
I am trying on my wedding gown this weekend, and I am intrigued to see if these past several weeks of working out frequently has made a difference in the fit. We shall see...
Either way, I am quite proud of myself for kicking the little devil off my shoulder and convincing myself to do something that's so good for me, physically and mentally. I have every intention of keeping it up!
I am grateful today for boosts like that one. Little triumphs, little victories. They keep things going in the right direction. The task for me is to grasp on to those moments and utilize them to carry me through the tougher times. It's a good lesson learned.

Frustrated

Work is work and life is life. Leave your work shit at work and deal with your home shit at home. That's how it should be. But at my job, that's not the case. It's a long, drawn out story, but the bottom line is that my work-life bares a striking resemblance to a tweenaged melodrama, and I am so, completely over it. I am angry with my supervisor for making our environment here so stressful, uncomfortable and dramatic, and I am even more angry at myself for letting it effect me so much. I want to come to work, do my thing and go home. period. I don't want to have to go into her office once a week so that she can ask me my opinion on why team morale is so low. I shouldn't be put in the position of having to tell her that she is the reason. She is the core of the problems and her shit has rippled its way through each of the rest of our lives.
Normally I am really good at just keeping my head down and doing my work. But for some reason, her behavior recently has become so toxic that I find it impossible to block. It's so unfair.
If I worked in a normal company, bullshit like hers would not be tolerated. But I don't work in a normal company, and upper-management, while well aware of her quirks and tendencies, thinks its amusing. They don't seem to realize the effect she's having on the productivity and general happiness of the team.
This entry is actually a good example of the effect she has on me. I had every intention of writing as a therapy. I was hoping to coax myself into feeling clear of her negativity, but the fact is that i'm all-consumed at the moment. And I hate her for it...

No More Excuses

As I've stated before. I am a master procrastinator. I can come up with an excuse not to do absolutely anything. If it sounds like I am boasting, I assure you, I am not. My constant avoidance of things is something I rather despise about myself. But today I am steadying myself, standing up to that inner fat kid, breaking the cycle, and joining a gym.
I am hoping that having one of my best friends be a member as well will help to motivate me. It's rather pathetic that I need someone to motivate me. I'm getting married, and getting ready to consider getting pregnant. Were there ever any better reasons to want to look and be my healthiest? But the sad truth is, I know myself better than that. I will tell myself that it's too difficult/cold/dark/early to go in the morning before work. The devil on my shoulder will whisper in my ear that I walked at a brisk pace the 1/3 mile from the boat and therefore don't need anymore cardio for the day. I will give in to the tired person who just wants to go home and lie on the couch with my hubby to be after a long day. I will use the fact that I got a great monthly rate to ease any pangs of guilt for wasting money. But the fact is, come four months from now, if I don't feel amazing in my wedding gown, I will have no one to blame but myself. That is what I have to keep reminding myself. It won't always be fun. It will never be convenient or easy. But if I can walk down that aisle feeling like a million bucks, knowing I worked my ass off to make it happen, I know it will have been worth it.
So my challenge to myself begins today. No more excuses.

Idiosyncrasies of a Bride-To-Be

Here we are - 152 days from my wedding day. The day i've dreamed about my whole life. And I am so excited. I know there is a lot left to do, but I feel pretty confident that it will all get done. My wedding stress does not come from the usual fears. No, no, no. My fears are more dramatic. In fact, several of them are so completely outlandish that even I have to laugh at them. Yet, even though I can laugh at them, there is still that pit in my stomach that says, well, what if...

What if:

• I break a bone (any bone) leading up to the wedding, and have to wear a cast with my wedding gown!? Mind you, I have never broken a bone in my life (knocking on wood, knocking on wood). Where did this fear come from? No idea...
• I fall while walking down the aisle. Particularly, while walking down the stone steps into the garden. How embarrassing would that be??! I suppose though that my dad will have a fairly firm grip on me. I hope.
• We can't hear the string trio begin to play Pachelbel Canon in D? I'd miss the cue for my entrance. Poor hubby to be will be struck with a momentary fear that I'm standing him up!! (even though the whole bridal party will have walked down the aisle already.)
• People show up that weren't invited or expected. This is a legitimate fear. I think. We have decided not to allow single people to bring guests. It's just too much to pay for people we've never met. Not to mention, I'm not really thrilled with the idea of having a bunch of people i've never met at my wedding.
• Guests think my dress is awful? I don't know how to elaborate on that one...

Okay, my mind is racing now, maybe allowing myself to dwell on these fears and write about them wasn't the best idea.

One thing I can say for certain is that I have strategically planned to surround myself with people who know my idiosynrasies. Hopefully, they find my quirkiness lovable. I mean, they've put up with me for this long!

My Moment

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.

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...

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.

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...

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.

Twas the night before history was made..

Here we are, less than 24 hours from now the polls will be closed. It's amazing how this election has driven the masses to get involved. I'm on the verge of being proud of my country. I really want to be proud of my country. My friend just put it in the perfect words, "I've been in a perpetual state of 'wtf' since 2000". Maybe tomorrow things will begin to become clear.
I wish I could trust the advance numbers. I wish I could trust the Vegas odds, but after 2004 I just can't allow myself to be so naive.
Barack Obama's Grandmother, Madelyn Dunham, passed away today. I don't think it escapes anyone, the profound significance of her death less than 24 hours before the day her beloved grandson may become the first black president of the United States. My faith allows me to truly believe she'll know, and she'll see. But I can't imagine the bittersweet tone this experience has taken for him.
So I say goodnight, and with a prayer for change, close my eyes on this awful chapter in our nation's history. Tomorrow America, please make me proud.