I have written entries for a year now dealing with life as a young widow and it's impact on my life and the lives of the girls. I have cried, prayed, complained, and somehow found strength through writing about this. This entry is not going to be about me, but about a very amazing person that I found tucked away in his own little corner of the web. It would be the obituary that I would've written, although Andrew Meacham of the St. Petersburg Times did a pretty good job of that almost a year ago, even if there were a few factual inaccuracies along the way.
My late husband, Robert Alan Shaw III was born on March 23, 1970. I always joked with him that he was made during the summer of love. Do a little math and you'll know that he was in fact created in June of 1969, when his parents were fresh out of high school and engaged to be married. This pre-nuptual conception was greeted by some members of the family as not the best news in the world, given society's views on pre-marital conception. However, most of the family was thrilled to tears and his father's family welcomed his mother into their household with open arms. He was to be the first grandchild on either side of the family, an honor that I myself hold in my own family, which is a very special position indeed.
His mother had a bit of a rocky pregnancy but managed to get through it. By way of Cesarean section, Rob made his entrance into the world, but it was blatantly obvious right off the bat that something was very wrong with this baby. His color was blue and remained that way even after he took his first breath, signalling a heart defect of some kind. His poor mother didn't lay eyes on him for days because at that time it was customary for the hospital staff to shield the family from their sick babies.
Rob was diagnosed with transposition of the great vessels. His parents were told that he would most likely not make it to his first birthday, but as his mother Audrey told me "I never really paid much attention to that." They raised nurtured him along day by day and saw him through four heart surgeries, the first two being successfully performed at six months of age and at age three. Rob's surgeries were very cutting edge, ones for the books-literally. Rob and medical technology ran a neck-and-neck race with each other.
Aside from all of that, he had a really pleasant childhood. With a sister 18 months younger than him, baseball games, sledding, friends, Christmas presents, a nice family, several dogs, he had the most solid foundation any of us could ask for. He lived in a small town where family was always around the corner, had a grandmother with such a deep love for him it can make me cry just thinking about it, and parents who were devoted to just living a straight and narrow life, life was as stable as it could possibly be.
Rob's other condition kind of started to take some shape to the outside world around age 4 or 5 in the form of misbehavior, defiance, odd quirks, tenacity, and repetitiousness that challenged those around him. According to family legend, he passed certain milestones at a very young age. He was walking, talking, and potty-trained before all of his peers. In retrospect one has to wonder if the dopamine receptors in his young mind were running full speed ahead, but it really doesn't matter. Here was a child carrying a very poor prognosis from his doctors, enduring God knows what kind of pain and suffering, but at the same time hurdling through life at an unprecedented speed.
The high school years were good to him. He made many meaningful relationships that literally lasted until the day he died. Most people around him wish him well even though he was mouthy, confrontational and would always have a joke at someone else's expense. He carried this trait into his adult life and somehow people loved him for it.
After graduating high school he worked a few jobs before starting college at New Jersey City University. Most notably, he was the chef at a restaurant in Westwood called Our Daily Bread that this parent owned. He turned out to be a great cook, very meticulous. He made the best breaded chicken cutlets I have ever eaten. Throughout our relationship I mostly cooked, but whatever he made was the very best specimen of it's kind in looks and taste. You could take a picture of it for a magazine and happily eat it afterwards. This was just another good example of attention to detail.
He DJ'ed for a few years with his old buddy John Avery. I know he had a lot of fun doing this. He had a huge record collection and I'm sad to say we had to part with it before the move to FL. He kept a handful of records that meant a lot to him, so at least I have that.
Before marrying me, he had the good fortune of convincing another girl to tie the knot. Lorenza was his college sweetie. They were together for 10 years, I think 3 of them as husband and wife. She is a very petite girl, maybe 4'11" which complimented his 5'4" height. She was borne of Italian immigrants from Hoboken. They spoke very little English, which made communication difficult, but I understand that the mother-in-law made very good food. He raved about the spaghetti sauce that she made, either with bracciole or crab and other crustaceans.
He had some brothers-in-law, one he liked an awful lot. Evidently the one he like married a Russian girl and Rob was in their wedding and had to hold a crown over their heads during the ceremony for a very long period of time. The bride was Russian, I think it was some kind of ritual. He remembered sweating a lot and having to change hands many times while holding the crown.
So they married, yeah I've seen the pics, they both looked really great. He already owned the 2-family house in Lodi and they lived there for a little bit before buying the house down by the shore in Brick. For whatever reason the marriage didn't work out and Lori got the house and the dog, Phoebe.
He moved to an apartment in the shore area and they worked out their divorce. Not long after he moved into the bottom unit of the Lodi house and worked as a Webmaster at WANDL, a software company in Bound Brook, NJ. This is where he working when we met. I was a CNA (certified nurse's aide) at a very nice nursing home in Califon, NJ and taking classes at Raritan Valley to become an RN.
When I met him, I was fresh out of a catastrophic relationship and he was newly divorced. He was just a handsome picture on Yahoo personals that I surfed next to. He was from Lodi. I wondered how far that was and decided that it was in fact pretty far, but there was something about the profile that really caught my eye so I decided to say hello.
That was back when he was bleaching out his hair. He looked really good. The profile pic was of him, up against the cabinets in the Lodi kitchen. His hair, so blond, his eyes so big and blue, a white T-shirt on. He looked edgy yet approachable.
We exchanged a few emails and then both departed on vacations for a few days. He went to Atlantic City, on a fishing trip I believe, and I traveled up to Provincetown, MA for the first time with Kevin and Tamara. Tamara and I toasted "to Bobby" in our motel room over some vodka shots. I think we both had a feeling that this was a person of significance in my life.
After the return from our trips, we graduated to sending each other IMs on AIM. This was when my screen name of Smilemaster2000 was born, in the late summer of 2001. As JustRob2k1, he was able to tentatively admit to me that he was divorced and that he had a heart condition. One night, he asked me to just ask him ANYTHING and I told him I wanted to hear his voice. He faltered a bit, but gave me his number, which I scribbled with a spare piece of Sadie's crayon onto some page in a loose leaf notebook that I still have.
973-594-something-something-something-something.
We built a relationship with each other through technology. We messaged every night, emailed every day. We asked each other a million and one questions and played backgammon. It was a beautiful way to get to know someone. Even back then I thought, if this is the guy I marry and have kids with, this will be an excellent story to re-tell.
He courted, we dated, we took our time. He didn't' tell me that he loved me until July of 2002, almost a year into our relationship. This was fine with me. I don't believe in pushing this. We were vacationing in Bermuda, a cruise, or first vacation together. While frolicking on the beach, the phrase was uttered by him first, but I think he already knew that I loved him back. Still, it was a big risk. Prior to this, he had filled his mouth with many, many stones on the shore, all polished smooth by the ocean's salty waves and time. He looked at me and smiled and loads of small, oval rocks fell out of his mouth. I don't think I have seen anything quite that funny since.
Then the words were said and I knew that I had won over a heart worth fighting for.
He met Sadie a few months later, and the rest is history. We got engaged on Saturday, March 22, 2003. I remember receiving many phone calls at work from him to find out if I was definitely going to be able to get off from work early that day, since I usually worked until 7pm but was planning to leave 3 instead. There was an urgency about it. Of course we were working short-staffed, but this was for his birthday and I needed to get off early because we had a Nets game to attend!
he usual routine ensued upon arrival to the Lodi house. I suppose I took a shower, maybe even bringing Evie along with me for our weekly doggie bath. By that time, that was routine that had taken hold. Followed by that was a sort of unusual snack of fruit and cheese piled high upon a platter. There was so much of it and yet he continued to urge me to eat. He barely ate any of it.
I spied a small, squarish object underneath the grapes and instantly knew what it was. Having spied it so early into the grapes and cheese, I didn't know when to pretend that I noticed it. While popping grapes into my mouth on the floor, I saw him grow very restless, breathing harder, turning paler, and looking mildly sweaty.
To break the tension, I pretended to notice the foil covered square for the first time. Taking it from me, he got down on one knee and proposed to me in a very time-honored way. By now, he was pale and sweating, and goddamn it-yes of course I would marry him, but at that point I was more worried about his condition than anything else.
After his recovery from the tension, we studied the ring together and he spoke of how it came to be. Evidently he and Jon went into the diamond district of Manhattan and picked out just the right rock out of a collection of loose stones. The gem weighs 1.01 karats, if of decent grade, and cut beautifully. He had it placed in a very simple Tiffany setting on white gold, which was the only bit of criteria that I provided. I like the look of silver, white gold, or platinum against my skin and I like one very cool rock as opposed to clusters of rocks. Armed with this knowledge, he created a perfect ring.
Our engagement was 5 months long and I was in the trenches in nursing school. I knew that after this experience, coordinating a very respectable, traditional wedding of 95 people by night and learning how to be a nurse by day, that I could pretty much coordinate anything that came my way. Everything about that day was beautiful, from having to fire my limo driver on the spot for showing up in a piece of crap vehicle at my parents' house, to traveling across the state of New Jersey with a veil on my well-coifed head while wearing sweat shorts and a T-shirt, to the hand-crafted ceremony, to arranging my bustle, to needing bridesmaid's assistance to manage the dress while taking a pee, to throwing the best party I've ever thrown, to making our way back to Lodi for a few hours of sleep. We honey-mooned and slept it off in Cozumel.
During this time, Rob was an employee of Globalshop, Inc. He worked here from roughly the time of our engagement until the day he died. It was a mutually beneficial relationship.
After our return from the honeymoon, we hit the ground running with selling that house and buying something a little bit bigger, a little better for a family. We fixed up Lodi completely and listed with Foxton's. In a short time we had a buyer and then negotiated with his parents to buy the house he grew up in, in Wood-Ridge.
While living there we conceived Penny. We had a little scare with her, very early on, but that turned out to be nothing. During this time Rob had his yearly check-up with his cardiologist who felt the need to refer him to another colleague because something didn't sound quite right upon auscultation of his heart. It was no secret that he had a very pronounced murmur. You could hear a very unusual swish with every beat if you laid your head on his chest. This was no surprise, because the last surgery was about 15 years in the past, and these procedures and these prosthetic parts do have a shelf-life.
The docs didn't want to do anything until after the baby was born, but they didn't want to wait to long either. The only hold-up was the pregnancy, really. During the pregnancy, he had two cardiac catheterizations to map out the course of his circulatory system. His left lung was found to be basically non-functioning, pretty much robbing his body of blood that could potentially be delivering oxygen and nutrients to the rest of him. There was talk of removing the offending lung but they tried a different procedure instead during the second cath, which seemed to improve his oxygenation somewhat.
Penelope Lynn Shaw was born on January 2, 2006 by Cesarean section after a night of very hard labor. Rob was in misery due to an eye infection and had to help me use the bedpan between bouts of laying down with his eyes closed , over and over again, for many hours. Labor was being induced by Pitocin, my bladder was full constantly due to IV bags of saline running at full force, and the epidural was working fine in all parts of my abdomen except for my left groin, which was taking a beating from the contractions. According to the fetal monitor strips, Penny was not enjoying the ride either.
The decision was made very quickly to remove this baby through surgery. We both got our heads on straight about this rapid turn of events. I wouldn't let him watch them cut me up. Once she was out I told him that I was fine and to just get over to the baby and enjoy her. The operating room erupted into oohs and aahs and the baby crying and the doctor telling me that she was the biggest baby he'd ever seen!
The nurse called out that she was 10 lbs. 15.6 oz. and that she looked great. I knew that her size was the result of my beyond indulgent eating habits, but I was still proud. Even prouder still was a man who stood 5'4", always the smallest and physically weakest kid in his class, who had done his part in making the biggest baby either of us had ever laid eyes on. And she was his! And at that moment, he began loving someone more than he had EVER loved someone in his entire life.
He was a good dad. He was extremely attentive to her, careful with her, gingerly even. The way he babied those perfect chicken cutlets in the frying pan-well, he was even more of a perfectionist with her. Sure there were those times when he was caught on the bathroom floor, in mid-bathing duty, frozen in fear of the mustardy baby poop all over his socks, but that was my duty to solve that problem. But the after bottle naps in the easy chair, the getting on the floor and playing, the stroller rides, and bubble baths...those are the areas that enjoyed most and excelled in.
I know for a fact that he discovered a perfect love through her. Yes, of course he loved me and Sadie, but there was something that he found in the baby that he really couldn't have found anywhere else. I was not jealous. I truly didn't want him to love me more than, or even as much as, the way he loved the baby. I count it among the top 5 important things I've done in my life-to help create a person who showed Rob the truest, most simple meaning of what love is.
When Penny was about 4 months old Rob had his last surgery. For some reason, I never doubted that he would survive it. The surgery itself took an eternity. The first time I saw him afterwards he was unconscious, had a tracheal tube, another tube coming out of his nose draining bright red blood, was hooked up to a staggering number of meds, and was enveloped in a big white cocoon thingy to warm him back up. During an open-heart surgery they drop your core temperature pretty darn low to keep your cells' metabolic demands as low as possible while your blood is being processed by a machine to perform gas exchange and some other stuff. Your heart is frozen in it's place while they work on it, your lungs are functioning through a ventilator, your kidneys are supported by drugs, and a host of other very interesting things are taking place.
Let us fast forward through the long recovery, the stress it placed on us as a family, his frustrations over having quite a few physical limitations for the next 6 months. It was hard but he made it through. He began to enjoy more time outdoors, walking, doing yard work. Our personal mantra all throughout the worst of it was that once this was all over, we'd sell the house and move to Florida. It was his dream and I was at a point where it didn't really matter to me where we were, as long as he was happy, we'd all be happy. He had suffered so much and just wanted to live out the rest of his life somewhere that he really loved.
And that is exactly what he did. I used to feel as if he delivered me to Florida for some reason and that some kind of future laid her for me. Well, it did, but it wasn't what I was expecting. But I suppose it is true that both his life and his passing have each started a new kind of life for me. I am not ashamed to admit that I changed because of him.
People get very hung up on not wanting to "change" for another person, but how can it not happen? You meet the right person, someone you love deeply, and you probably will find yourself facing some opportunity to change something for positive reasons. Maybe it's kicking bad habits, or allowing your ambitions to grow, or being able to give of yourself on a deeper level.
When someone you love very deeply unexpectedly leaves your life, especially through death, you will face the very worst feelings imaginable. It's very ugly and raw, filled with opportunities to have overwhelming anxiety and panic attacks at the drop of a hat. I had to learn how to overcome that and it made me a much stronger person than I ever was before.
So, yeah, the right person can be a catalyst for a life change.
These days, I feel more like it was my job to deliver him to Florida. He fell asleep and passed away most likely feeling as if he made it, he really, really made it down here...finally. I am sad that he did not wake up the next day and see us down here with him. Still, he passed away feeling that he would be absolutely see us, and we could start our new lives down here.
That is actually a beautiful thing if you think about it.
Friday, August 01, 2008
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Recharged Batteries
Fresh back from a trip up north. I have made firm living arrangements, secured work, and made preliminary arrangements for transferring Sadie to Rutherford High School. I have a lot of legwork to do this month, but remember, this time last year I was doing the same type of things under a lot more pressure.
I remember the similar tasks I was coordinating about a year ago, even less really. I had a $10,000 deposit on a beautiful house in New Port Richey that I had to negotiate my way out of. I had a funeral to arrange. I had two girls and two dogs to lead through times of unprecedented grief that needed a navigator through life.
I almost feel apologetic bringing it up for the umpteenth-million time, but I need to remind myself sometimes. Some people in my life feel the need to remind me of how hard it's going to be to coordinate the move in one month. I know this very well, but that's not the aspect I chose to focus on. If I can make every 6 out of 7 days highly productive ones, than I believe that I can pull this off.
This week gave me a good opportunity to sit back after the work was done and just enjoy being up north. I mostly walked around Brooklyn, just being quiet and observing life. I got to ride on the subway quite a bit, which I found enjoyable. I barely drove my rental car, which turned out to be an expense I could've done without, but not driving for a handful of days was actually very relaxing and I felt kind of good about not consuming gasoline. I swear to God, my legs and butt are definitely in better shape from all the walking!
I bought a CD on the street from a guy standing in front of the Virgin Mega-Store, peddling CD's featuring positive hip-hop. He seemed like a nice guy and I knew I had a 5 in wallet. Turns out Je' Willie's CD is really, really good with no F-words. Evidently he has a Myspace page but no Facebook. I told him about some of the great artists out there who spread by word of mouth, just some homemade music like his, who have managed to do a couple of things and gather a following. I mentioned Noel Gourdin and David Sides and promised to write to him on Myspace.
So here I am, back in Spring Hill, but now there is no question that I won't be here for much longer. There's so much more I could have enjoyed about living in Florida if things had turned out differently. My heart has hardened to all of that beauty and it's now more of an endurance test, the last leg of a marathon. I have surrendered to the hard work, sweat, tears, and effort of the beginning and evidently even the middle. The wind is to my back and the momentum is high. We'll be sailing back any day now...
I remember the similar tasks I was coordinating about a year ago, even less really. I had a $10,000 deposit on a beautiful house in New Port Richey that I had to negotiate my way out of. I had a funeral to arrange. I had two girls and two dogs to lead through times of unprecedented grief that needed a navigator through life.
I almost feel apologetic bringing it up for the umpteenth-million time, but I need to remind myself sometimes. Some people in my life feel the need to remind me of how hard it's going to be to coordinate the move in one month. I know this very well, but that's not the aspect I chose to focus on. If I can make every 6 out of 7 days highly productive ones, than I believe that I can pull this off.
This week gave me a good opportunity to sit back after the work was done and just enjoy being up north. I mostly walked around Brooklyn, just being quiet and observing life. I got to ride on the subway quite a bit, which I found enjoyable. I barely drove my rental car, which turned out to be an expense I could've done without, but not driving for a handful of days was actually very relaxing and I felt kind of good about not consuming gasoline. I swear to God, my legs and butt are definitely in better shape from all the walking!
I bought a CD on the street from a guy standing in front of the Virgin Mega-Store, peddling CD's featuring positive hip-hop. He seemed like a nice guy and I knew I had a 5 in wallet. Turns out Je' Willie's CD is really, really good with no F-words. Evidently he has a Myspace page but no Facebook. I told him about some of the great artists out there who spread by word of mouth, just some homemade music like his, who have managed to do a couple of things and gather a following. I mentioned Noel Gourdin and David Sides and promised to write to him on Myspace.
So here I am, back in Spring Hill, but now there is no question that I won't be here for much longer. There's so much more I could have enjoyed about living in Florida if things had turned out differently. My heart has hardened to all of that beauty and it's now more of an endurance test, the last leg of a marathon. I have surrendered to the hard work, sweat, tears, and effort of the beginning and evidently even the middle. The wind is to my back and the momentum is high. We'll be sailing back any day now...
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Today, July 22
Today, in many Christians churches, it is the feast day of St. Mary Magdalene. Who was this woman? Many believe that she was a prostitute who repented and became a follower of Jesus. Many more are starting to believe that she wasn't even a prostitute at all, but an uncounted apostle and follower of Christ. And there are even some who believe that she was the wife of Jesus, his right-hand-man so to speak.
A brief scan of the wiki page reveals that no one can really agree on what or who this woman was, she may have been a hairdresser from Magdala, she may have been a whore who changed her ways. One thing is in agreement-she was the one who went to Jesus' tomb after he died and discovered that he was not there. And even more profound, she was the first person that he exposed himself to after he came back to life, before he ascended into heaven.
Pretty heavy stuff, huh? He must have thought the world of her to choose her as the first person to reveal himself to. She is the one who delivered the message that he had risen from the dead to the rest of the apostles. Can you imagine having to carry that message? People would think you were nuts!
I have always identified with her-misunderstood, woman of ill-repute, a past cloaked in mystery, closer to the source of goodness than most people realize, a person who repented and rose above her failings and went on to become a very important figure in spirituality. I love the fact that we cannot agree on who she was and what she did. This is part of her mystery.
According to scripture, she stood at Jesus' feet while he was nailed to the cross, along with his mother and his aunt. This tells me that at the very least she had some kind of relationship with his mother and family, to share in this moment of intense grief. Does it matter if they were just good friends or if they were sharing a bed together? I don't think it does, and like any other relationship on Earth besides my own, it's none of my business.
Whether you adhere to Christian beliefs or not, well...that's not the point. You've got to admit at the very least that Jesus had a pretty important role in the history of humankind. Whether you consider him the Messiah, a prophet, or just kind of a cool guy who wanted people to behave well towards each other, he was important in some respect.
And personally, the idea of Jesus having a woman like her behind him kind of fills me with personal hope. Maybe she was the unseen cog in the machine behind the man who caused so much controversy in his day, controversy that continues into the present. I love the fact that we are still debating whether or not she was a whore. Nothing excites people like a woman of ill-repute.
*****
Want to mention quickly another feast day that occurred almost exactly one month ago, one that might be equally important. We're talking about none other than St. John the Baptist. He just happens to be the dude that baptized Jesus himself.
Ok, so a wee bit of biblical history here. His mother was St. Elizabeth, a cousin of Mary's. She and her husband had tried in vain for a long time to have a child but no dice. Finally, in rather advanced age, Elizabeth was able to conceive. After Mary had the dream that she was with child with the son of God, she went to visit Elizabeth. While walking through the door and greeting Elizabeth, the fetus in Elizabeth's belly did more than the usual rib kick and this startled Elizabeth and filled her with some kind of magical glee that they were in the midst of a very special fetus indeed.
Obviously John was born in the summer and Jesus the following winter. They were cousins but didn't really know each other...yet.
John was performing baptisms in the river. Jesus came to him one day to be baptized and John proclaimed that he was certainly not worthy to baptize the son of god! Jesus convinced him that that was a bunch of bull, and so it was done.
John went on to become beheaded by King Herod for saying some nasty about his wife, which may have been true anyway. This was probably not a good move. John was believed to be a prophet in many religions, and the fore-runner of Jesus in most of Christianity. Beheading this man certainly held no good karma at all.
One of the reasons I bring it up is because one of my best friend, Scott, his middle name is John and his birth date is the day before John the Baptist's feast. I have pointed this out to him, and he doesn't really feel that his mother intended this at all. Yet it is as it is. I like to think that it's the part of the order of the universe that he should have such a special and simple middle name.
John-what a simple same. It's a same that exists in almost every culture. Yahya in Arabic, Johann, Jan, Jean, Giovanni, in various parts of Europe. Yet so much lies behind it. It's one of the most common names-hell, I have over 6 close relatives that have some for of this name.
*****
Again, it doesn't matter if you are Christian or something else. These are important people in history. I happen to have my own beliefs regarding all of this, and they do sort of fall into the profile of Christianity, but also someone with a deep respect for the history of humankind.
A brief scan of the wiki page reveals that no one can really agree on what or who this woman was, she may have been a hairdresser from Magdala, she may have been a whore who changed her ways. One thing is in agreement-she was the one who went to Jesus' tomb after he died and discovered that he was not there. And even more profound, she was the first person that he exposed himself to after he came back to life, before he ascended into heaven.
Pretty heavy stuff, huh? He must have thought the world of her to choose her as the first person to reveal himself to. She is the one who delivered the message that he had risen from the dead to the rest of the apostles. Can you imagine having to carry that message? People would think you were nuts!
I have always identified with her-misunderstood, woman of ill-repute, a past cloaked in mystery, closer to the source of goodness than most people realize, a person who repented and rose above her failings and went on to become a very important figure in spirituality. I love the fact that we cannot agree on who she was and what she did. This is part of her mystery.
According to scripture, she stood at Jesus' feet while he was nailed to the cross, along with his mother and his aunt. This tells me that at the very least she had some kind of relationship with his mother and family, to share in this moment of intense grief. Does it matter if they were just good friends or if they were sharing a bed together? I don't think it does, and like any other relationship on Earth besides my own, it's none of my business.
Whether you adhere to Christian beliefs or not, well...that's not the point. You've got to admit at the very least that Jesus had a pretty important role in the history of humankind. Whether you consider him the Messiah, a prophet, or just kind of a cool guy who wanted people to behave well towards each other, he was important in some respect.
And personally, the idea of Jesus having a woman like her behind him kind of fills me with personal hope. Maybe she was the unseen cog in the machine behind the man who caused so much controversy in his day, controversy that continues into the present. I love the fact that we are still debating whether or not she was a whore. Nothing excites people like a woman of ill-repute.
*****
Want to mention quickly another feast day that occurred almost exactly one month ago, one that might be equally important. We're talking about none other than St. John the Baptist. He just happens to be the dude that baptized Jesus himself.
Ok, so a wee bit of biblical history here. His mother was St. Elizabeth, a cousin of Mary's. She and her husband had tried in vain for a long time to have a child but no dice. Finally, in rather advanced age, Elizabeth was able to conceive. After Mary had the dream that she was with child with the son of God, she went to visit Elizabeth. While walking through the door and greeting Elizabeth, the fetus in Elizabeth's belly did more than the usual rib kick and this startled Elizabeth and filled her with some kind of magical glee that they were in the midst of a very special fetus indeed.
Obviously John was born in the summer and Jesus the following winter. They were cousins but didn't really know each other...yet.
John was performing baptisms in the river. Jesus came to him one day to be baptized and John proclaimed that he was certainly not worthy to baptize the son of god! Jesus convinced him that that was a bunch of bull, and so it was done.
John went on to become beheaded by King Herod for saying some nasty about his wife, which may have been true anyway. This was probably not a good move. John was believed to be a prophet in many religions, and the fore-runner of Jesus in most of Christianity. Beheading this man certainly held no good karma at all.
One of the reasons I bring it up is because one of my best friend, Scott, his middle name is John and his birth date is the day before John the Baptist's feast. I have pointed this out to him, and he doesn't really feel that his mother intended this at all. Yet it is as it is. I like to think that it's the part of the order of the universe that he should have such a special and simple middle name.
John-what a simple same. It's a same that exists in almost every culture. Yahya in Arabic, Johann, Jan, Jean, Giovanni, in various parts of Europe. Yet so much lies behind it. It's one of the most common names-hell, I have over 6 close relatives that have some for of this name.
*****
Again, it doesn't matter if you are Christian or something else. These are important people in history. I happen to have my own beliefs regarding all of this, and they do sort of fall into the profile of Christianity, but also someone with a deep respect for the history of humankind.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
A Few Random Thoughts
Sometimes it's easy for the busiest person to feel like they have no life. I have vacillated between feeling like I've got no life at all to feeling like I might have the most special life that one could hope for. I think the truth lies somewhere in between.
There have been times when I've stared at the computer screen at 3:30 in the morning and felt like I had nothing in the world. There have been times when the computer screen has let me see some beautiful things from people who care about me. There have been moments spent changing diarrhea diapers that have made me feel so daunted by my lot in life and times when Penelope has smiled her father's smile that reminds me that life truly does go on into infinity. I've stared at the stars and cried and asked God, "why did you do this to me?" as much as there have been times when I've looked up at the night sky and felt like I was part of something so huge, beyond myself, that it has literally brought me to tears of joy.
The internet is a blessing, people. It is the reason that I met my husband. It connects us. Do not fight against it or question whether it is good or bad for human socialization. It IS. It is part of the grand design. Use it for good and you will be blessed.
The internet helped me finish my current degree and will no doubt help me tackle the next one. Not everything can be done on the net for what I want to do, but I can get a lot of the extraneous stuff out of the way from the comfort of my laptop. It is not a substitute for real experience and the nursing classes I face in the future, but anything that is based upon mere theories can be dealt with this way.
The internet is full of maps to places you might want to go. You can let your imagine run wild with trips to Halifax, Nova Scotia or Anchorage, Alaska and anywhere in between. You can chart your course and fantasize about all of the beautiful things to see in between. You can find restaurants worth eating at and imagine the meals you might eat based upon the menu you find. You can look up available lodging and read other people's experiences while staying there.
In short, you can let you imagination fly.
The web is chock full of good artists who would never find wide spread exposure otherwise. Find that old song that you haven't heard since high school on Youtube and transport yourself back in time to the first moment you've heard it. Discover the person with just a piano and two hands who is giving your favorite song on the radio a new treatment. Learn more about the things you have always been interested in and realize that there are thousands of people out there who love it just as much as you do.
God bless the internet. It has done so much for me. I know this isn't my first post extolling the virtues of the internet. For some of us, it seems like an old idea, something we tend to take for granted. Don't take it lightly, it's probably the most powerful tool aside from ourselves that any of us actually have. For a few dollars every month, the world is at your fingertips.
There have been times when I've stared at the computer screen at 3:30 in the morning and felt like I had nothing in the world. There have been times when the computer screen has let me see some beautiful things from people who care about me. There have been moments spent changing diarrhea diapers that have made me feel so daunted by my lot in life and times when Penelope has smiled her father's smile that reminds me that life truly does go on into infinity. I've stared at the stars and cried and asked God, "why did you do this to me?" as much as there have been times when I've looked up at the night sky and felt like I was part of something so huge, beyond myself, that it has literally brought me to tears of joy.
The internet is a blessing, people. It is the reason that I met my husband. It connects us. Do not fight against it or question whether it is good or bad for human socialization. It IS. It is part of the grand design. Use it for good and you will be blessed.
The internet helped me finish my current degree and will no doubt help me tackle the next one. Not everything can be done on the net for what I want to do, but I can get a lot of the extraneous stuff out of the way from the comfort of my laptop. It is not a substitute for real experience and the nursing classes I face in the future, but anything that is based upon mere theories can be dealt with this way.
The internet is full of maps to places you might want to go. You can let your imagine run wild with trips to Halifax, Nova Scotia or Anchorage, Alaska and anywhere in between. You can chart your course and fantasize about all of the beautiful things to see in between. You can find restaurants worth eating at and imagine the meals you might eat based upon the menu you find. You can look up available lodging and read other people's experiences while staying there.
In short, you can let you imagination fly.
The web is chock full of good artists who would never find wide spread exposure otherwise. Find that old song that you haven't heard since high school on Youtube and transport yourself back in time to the first moment you've heard it. Discover the person with just a piano and two hands who is giving your favorite song on the radio a new treatment. Learn more about the things you have always been interested in and realize that there are thousands of people out there who love it just as much as you do.
God bless the internet. It has done so much for me. I know this isn't my first post extolling the virtues of the internet. For some of us, it seems like an old idea, something we tend to take for granted. Don't take it lightly, it's probably the most powerful tool aside from ourselves that any of us actually have. For a few dollars every month, the world is at your fingertips.
Saturday, July 12, 2008
And You May Ask Yourself "My God, What Have I Done?"
That's what I'm asking myself right now.
See, I just linked up this blog to my Facebook profile using the Mirror Blog application. A few thought are running through my mind.
First and foremost: more exposure. Why? Um, I don't know. But it seems like a good idea right now. Maybe one day I'll be put up ads on my blogs and generate money a la Dooce or Sundry. (does sundry even make ad money on her regular blog? maybe it's just the other ones she writes.) HAHAHHAH, that's a laugh!
Secondly, maybe it will make me WANT to write more frequently, knowing that there might possibly be a wider audience. This is not a bad thing to aspire to.
Thirdly, my FB peeps have become important to me. They deserve to know what's going on and I'm willing to share. I think.
Fourthly (is that even a WORD?), I've had a FEW glasses of Sauvignon Blanc and it seems like a REALLY GOOD IDEA right now.
So, the people who are wrestling me, pimp-fighting me, sending me roses, green patch stuff, and so on, here's the real scoop on who I am and what I've been up to. For some reason, I really felt the need to integrate the two. For every gift I send and every Hug Me! I give and every person I buy on owned, there is a real person behind it with a very real sentiment that isn't easily conveyed through Facebook. Just know that I care about you as much as I care about all of God's creatures, that you are loved, and that I am real.
Love,
Mommydawg
See, I just linked up this blog to my Facebook profile using the Mirror Blog application. A few thought are running through my mind.
First and foremost: more exposure. Why? Um, I don't know. But it seems like a good idea right now. Maybe one day I'll be put up ads on my blogs and generate money a la Dooce or Sundry. (does sundry even make ad money on her regular blog? maybe it's just the other ones she writes.) HAHAHHAH, that's a laugh!
Secondly, maybe it will make me WANT to write more frequently, knowing that there might possibly be a wider audience. This is not a bad thing to aspire to.
Thirdly, my FB peeps have become important to me. They deserve to know what's going on and I'm willing to share. I think.
Fourthly (is that even a WORD?), I've had a FEW glasses of Sauvignon Blanc and it seems like a REALLY GOOD IDEA right now.
So, the people who are wrestling me, pimp-fighting me, sending me roses, green patch stuff, and so on, here's the real scoop on who I am and what I've been up to. For some reason, I really felt the need to integrate the two. For every gift I send and every Hug Me! I give and every person I buy on owned, there is a real person behind it with a very real sentiment that isn't easily conveyed through Facebook. Just know that I care about you as much as I care about all of God's creatures, that you are loved, and that I am real.
Love,
Mommydawg
Friday, July 11, 2008
News: Sad and Happy
I would first like to start this post by saying that I just found out that my friend Scott's father passed away. To hear him cry broke my heart and we cried on the phone together for a few minutes. I don't know what it's like to lose a parent but it must be...something like finding out your spouse has died. It's different though. Grief is universal, but what we grieve for is highly individual.
I never met Henry, but given the kind of person his son turned out to be, I would venture to say that he was a good man. I have heard so much about him, most of it very, very positive and wish I could thank him in person for creating such a wonderful friend in his son. I have been privy to many intimate details about this man that I do feel like I knew him.
So, Henry, thanks for being a good husband, father, and person. The world was a better place because you were in it. You now exist in a way that we can only wonder about and I have total faith that whatever it is, be it heaven or the belly of a new mother, that it's exactly as beautiful as you deserve.
*****
No crass prose here today. I'll just give you quick, bulleted updates on my life.
I never met Henry, but given the kind of person his son turned out to be, I would venture to say that he was a good man. I have heard so much about him, most of it very, very positive and wish I could thank him in person for creating such a wonderful friend in his son. I have been privy to many intimate details about this man that I do feel like I knew him.
So, Henry, thanks for being a good husband, father, and person. The world was a better place because you were in it. You now exist in a way that we can only wonder about and I have total faith that whatever it is, be it heaven or the belly of a new mother, that it's exactly as beautiful as you deserve.
*****
No crass prose here today. I'll just give you quick, bulleted updates on my life.
- Put the house on the market. Listing price below what I paid. Felt like a punch in the stomach.
- Who cares? It's only money. Far worse things to lose. There's more where more it came from. We'll be F.I.N.E
- Decided to rent instead of buy. This provides optimum mobility and freedom, something I need. Very, very comfortable with this decision.
- Won't be paying property taxes for a while!
- Looking in Rutherford, East Rutherford, and Lyndhurst. Had a good conversation with a landlord in Lyndhurst today regarding a 4 bedroom apartment that is very affordable and sounds nice.
- Coming up north from July 24th to July 30th. Staying with a friend in Brooklyn. Going to have loads of fun, put down a deposit on my next living space, attend to some human resource stuff at work, and get the ball rolling with enrolling Sadie in a new school district. Won't be able to do any socializing on the western side of the state, but that's what the rest of my life is for.
- Considering many possibilities. Want to volunteer for the effort to clean up the Meadowlands. Even if it means picking up garbage piece-by-piece. Something I've wanted to do for a while and will now make a priority.
- Talked to some dude at Fidelity and have the ball rolling for moving some money around to better places.
- Been cooking more and eating better. Drinking less.
- Reading The Power of Now by Eckhart Tolle. Great book, even if it IS on Oprah's book list. Even if you find it to be mumbo-jumbo, it's written in a very relaxing style and could possibly help you fall asleep feeling kind of glad to be alive.
- Love you all!
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
My Life, the remix
Well gang, I am fresh back from a New Jersey trip which has breathed a tremendous amount of life back into this tired soul. I wish I had had a chance to do some west Jersey, eastern PA fun, but it was all centered around Bergen county and a bit of NYC. This time around we had no health crises or lost documents or major calamities of any kind.
(Well, in typical Liz Shaw fashion we did have a very bizarre occurrence the morning I left. I opened the garage to an almost infinite number of MAGGOTS on the garage floor that my mother had to rectify for me. At 6:30am that is really not a welcome sight, but there was a plane to catch and I wasn't going to let 1,000 maggots from dampening my spirits!)
Another beautiful get-away filled with great friends, good foods, lots of support, and a plethora of good vibes. I only cried once! I'm able to drive past my old houses and feel content with how I left them and happy for the people that inhabit those very special places. I think I have desensitized myself to these sights. I have driven past them so many times that I no longer feel the loss.
The places I hit: Lodi, Wood-Ridge, Rutherford, Hackensack, Englewood, Secaucus, Suffern NY, Manhattan, Brooklyn (especially Coney Island!).
The things I did: ate at Pizzatown, USA, Bonefish Grill, browsed houses to buy in Wood-Ridge, went to the Mermaid Parade, had margaritas, martinis, and beers, played around on Facebook, connected with some awesome people (you know who you are!!!), traveled by air with two kids, rode on trains and subways, and harnessed a lot of positive energy that I managed to bring back to FL.
The people I saw: JH and Mariela, family, LW, SM, KAS, NANA!!!, my sister-in-law and her husband, RAS senior...would love to have seen more but time only allows so much.
What I learned: that I'm totally going to be able to pull off this move, that something positive lies within me, that I don't need to hate FL to move away from there, that happiness isn't just right around the corner---it lives inside of me for ever and ever. There will always be good days and bad days, but that overall my life is composed of good. That it is perfectly acceptable for me to be content despite the crazy things that have gone down. That I am capable.
Whoever the heck has been praying for me and wishing good things for me, and I know that there are at least a few of you, THANK YOU! I am returning the favor. Right now, I have a lot to focus on, but I promise that I am wishing the same for you!
Also, anyone interested, please join Facebook. It is fun!
Love all youz guyz...
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Jean, and everyone else...
Can I rip this off, straight out your blog?
"The right way to wholeness is made up of fateful detours and wrong turnings." CG Jung
I am sorry I missed your birthday. I am sorry I missed everyone's birthday. Can I say that I am probably the worst friend that anyone ever had?
I think of everyone, EVERYONE, on a daily basis. I include everyone in my prayers and in my rosaries. I know you think of me too, but the words are hard to find. But my thoughts...you are all in my thoughts.
I've given up on a normal life. But a special life...well that's what I think I am living. I just want everyone to know that even if I'm falling short on being the friend that everyone deserves, well, I am thinking of all of you. You are all in my hearts, not just for being my friends but for being there for me in your own way during my time of devastation.
Things aren't always all bad. I have some nice days here and there. I have some inspiration here and there. I keep telling myself that I have a lot to look forward too. I keep telling myself that I will pull it together and be a better friend to everyone who has supported me during my darkest hours.
But the anxiety that grips me most of the time---the meds can only do so much and prayer helps me for little while. What else is there? I have 2 healthy daughters and I myself am in semi-decent health and my dogs are a comfort and Facebook has been fun. But as a widow, I have countless and endless tasks. I am sorry I can't be there like I want to be for the wonderful people in my life.
I shun fun. I almost want no part of it until I return to my home. I resist any of the beautiful things I can do down here for either sleep or work on my home. I don't want to meet anyone new. I don't want to see what's beautiful around me. I fixate on returning to my home. I obsess over returning to my old job. I fixate on New Jersey, the place where I was born and feel I belong.
If you're reading this and I know you, trust me, I love you. If I don't communicate as frequently as I should, it is my fault, not yours. I have no idea how long I can continue committing the faux pas of not writing back when I should, not congratulating you on your successes, or empathizing with your setbacks. Basically, I am still partially crippled by my losses and still trying to make sense of what has fallen upon me and the girls.
However, I will continue praying for our triumph over our loss. I will keep moving forward with the only plans that give me hope. Do not think of me as a lost cause. I am a Scorpio and my life is supposed to be filled with re-birth after re-birth.
I love you ALL.
And lastly, I will give you some DMB lyrics to reflect upon:
When I step into the light
My arms are open wide
When I step into the light
My eyes searching wildly
Would you not like to be
Sitting on top of the world with
Your legs hanging free
Would you not like to be ok, ok, ok?
When I'm walking by the water
Splish splash me and you takin a bath
When I'm walking by the water
Come up through my toes
To my ankles
To my head
To my soul
And I'm blown away
I can't believe that we would
Lie in our graves
Wondering if we had
Spent our living days well
I can't believe that we would
Lie in our graves
Dreaming of things that we
Might have been
Would you not like to be
I can't believe that you
Would not like to be
Would you not like to be Ok, ok, ok
***
That's what I want, for all of us to at least be Ok.
xoxoxox
"The right way to wholeness is made up of fateful detours and wrong turnings." CG Jung
I am sorry I missed your birthday. I am sorry I missed everyone's birthday. Can I say that I am probably the worst friend that anyone ever had?
I think of everyone, EVERYONE, on a daily basis. I include everyone in my prayers and in my rosaries. I know you think of me too, but the words are hard to find. But my thoughts...you are all in my thoughts.
I've given up on a normal life. But a special life...well that's what I think I am living. I just want everyone to know that even if I'm falling short on being the friend that everyone deserves, well, I am thinking of all of you. You are all in my hearts, not just for being my friends but for being there for me in your own way during my time of devastation.
Things aren't always all bad. I have some nice days here and there. I have some inspiration here and there. I keep telling myself that I have a lot to look forward too. I keep telling myself that I will pull it together and be a better friend to everyone who has supported me during my darkest hours.
But the anxiety that grips me most of the time---the meds can only do so much and prayer helps me for little while. What else is there? I have 2 healthy daughters and I myself am in semi-decent health and my dogs are a comfort and Facebook has been fun. But as a widow, I have countless and endless tasks. I am sorry I can't be there like I want to be for the wonderful people in my life.
I shun fun. I almost want no part of it until I return to my home. I resist any of the beautiful things I can do down here for either sleep or work on my home. I don't want to meet anyone new. I don't want to see what's beautiful around me. I fixate on returning to my home. I obsess over returning to my old job. I fixate on New Jersey, the place where I was born and feel I belong.
If you're reading this and I know you, trust me, I love you. If I don't communicate as frequently as I should, it is my fault, not yours. I have no idea how long I can continue committing the faux pas of not writing back when I should, not congratulating you on your successes, or empathizing with your setbacks. Basically, I am still partially crippled by my losses and still trying to make sense of what has fallen upon me and the girls.
However, I will continue praying for our triumph over our loss. I will keep moving forward with the only plans that give me hope. Do not think of me as a lost cause. I am a Scorpio and my life is supposed to be filled with re-birth after re-birth.
I love you ALL.
And lastly, I will give you some DMB lyrics to reflect upon:
When I step into the light
My arms are open wide
When I step into the light
My eyes searching wildly
Would you not like to be
Sitting on top of the world with
Your legs hanging free
Would you not like to be ok, ok, ok?
When I'm walking by the water
Splish splash me and you takin a bath
When I'm walking by the water
Come up through my toes
To my ankles
To my head
To my soul
And I'm blown away
I can't believe that we would
Lie in our graves
Wondering if we had
Spent our living days well
I can't believe that we would
Lie in our graves
Dreaming of things that we
Might have been
Would you not like to be
I can't believe that you
Would not like to be
Would you not like to be Ok, ok, ok
***
That's what I want, for all of us to at least be Ok.
xoxoxox
Monday, April 28, 2008
Box of Rain
I've almost been looking for an excuse to post the lyrics to this beautiful song on this blog for a while. It's a Grateful Dead song written by Robert Hunter with music by Phil Lesh. Any Deadhead knows that this song was composed in honor Lesh's father while he was dying of cancer.
I just found out that during the crafting of this song, Lesh would visit his father in the nursing home and bring along a guitar and practice. Not sure if it was the bass guitar or what, since Phil is a bassist, but something tells me the guy is as comfortable with six strings as he is with four.
Box of Rain
Robert Hunter and Phil Lesh
Look out of any window,
any morning, any evening, any day
Maybe the sun is shining,
birds are winging or
rain is falling from a heavy sky-
What do you want me to do,
to do for you to see you through?
this is all a dream we dreamed
one afternoon, long ago
Walk out of any doorway,
feel your way, feel your way
like the day before
Maybe you'll find direction,
Around some corner
where its been waiting to meet you-
What do you want me to do,
to watch for you while you are sleeping?
Well please don't be surprised
when you find me dreaming too.
Look into any eyes
you find by you, you can see
clear through to another day,
I know it's been seen before,
through other eyes on other days
while going home--
What do you want me to do
to do for you to see you through?
It's all a dream we dreamed
one afternoon, long ago.
Walk into splintered sunlight,
Inch your way through dead dreams
to another land.
Maybe you're tired and broken
Your tongue is twisted
with words half spoken
and thoughts unclear
What do you want me to do
to do for you to see you through?
A box of rain will ease the pain
and love will see you through
Just a box of rain-
wind and water
Believe it if you need it
if you don't just pass it on
Sun and shower-
wind and rain-
In and out the window
like a moth before a flame
It's just a box of rain
I don't know who put it there
Believe it if you need it
or leave it if you dare
But its just a box of rain
or a ribbon for your hair
Such a long, long time to be gone
and a short time to be there.
I just found out that during the crafting of this song, Lesh would visit his father in the nursing home and bring along a guitar and practice. Not sure if it was the bass guitar or what, since Phil is a bassist, but something tells me the guy is as comfortable with six strings as he is with four.
Box of Rain
Robert Hunter and Phil Lesh
Look out of any window,
any morning, any evening, any day
Maybe the sun is shining,
birds are winging or
rain is falling from a heavy sky-
What do you want me to do,
to do for you to see you through?
this is all a dream we dreamed
one afternoon, long ago
Walk out of any doorway,
feel your way, feel your way
like the day before
Maybe you'll find direction,
Around some corner
where its been waiting to meet you-
What do you want me to do,
to watch for you while you are sleeping?
Well please don't be surprised
when you find me dreaming too.
Look into any eyes
you find by you, you can see
clear through to another day,
I know it's been seen before,
through other eyes on other days
while going home--
What do you want me to do
to do for you to see you through?
It's all a dream we dreamed
one afternoon, long ago.
Walk into splintered sunlight,
Inch your way through dead dreams
to another land.
Maybe you're tired and broken
Your tongue is twisted
with words half spoken
and thoughts unclear
What do you want me to do
to do for you to see you through?
A box of rain will ease the pain
and love will see you through
Just a box of rain-
wind and water
Believe it if you need it
if you don't just pass it on
Sun and shower-
wind and rain-
In and out the window
like a moth before a flame
It's just a box of rain
I don't know who put it there
Believe it if you need it
or leave it if you dare
But its just a box of rain
or a ribbon for your hair
Such a long, long time to be gone
and a short time to be there.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
My Own Chemical Romance
Chemicals...can't live without 'em. Sometimes...
The Lexapro has been good to me. I trudged through about 3 or 4 weeks of feeling very disconnected with the outside world, including children, household chores, and assorted obligations breathing down my neck.
I would like to say that I awakened after week 4 to the dawn of my new, better mental state but that isn't exactly what happened. Instead I found days that I could actually accomplish a thing or two and feeling a little bit proud of myself. Still, there are many non-productive days tucked in between to know that inertia is always hanging around. In so many ways, I know I owe it to the Lexapro to get anything accomplished at all. Prior to this, there was pretty much just inertia.
Some days I feel so inert that I just can't do much of anything besides sit and think. I still have this. I will consult with my psychiatrist over these kind of days, but I also have to be honest and include the days when I am unstoppable and accomplish tasks with ease, tasks that formerly used to send me into a tailspin of despair. There are certain things I am facing, while not ominous, are actually very big in that they require me to contact someone, explain my entire situation for the millionth time (not fun) and move forward with separating Rob from his earthly holdings.
These tasks make me face the fact that he is gone from the earthly realm and remains in eternity, where finance, retirement, ownership of property, daycare, dishes, report cards no longer exists. I need to take over these earthly obligations and responsibilities one by one. If I were someone hired to do this for another person I could knock these jobs out in days. But since we are talking about my late husband, it is beyond difficult to carry it through. Every task carries a heavy emotional burden that I am only capable of doing piece by piece.
Anyway...My Chemical Romance...
This is a band I have grown to love lately. I consider them straight up rock n' roll. They are popular amongst the kiddies, but to me they show a lot of promise to carry on with their gig for a while. If you don't listen to them give them a try. I would love to hear what people have to say about older acts that they remind us of.
I would like to quote you some lyrics that have become my anthem the past couple of months...
From Welcome to the Black Parade:
We hear the call to carry on, we'll carry on
And though you're dead and gone, believe me
Your memory will carry on, we'll carry on
And though you're broken and defeated
You're weary widow marches
***
In other news, Sadie and I have been attending RCIA classes with the goal of getting her baptized and confirmed into the Catholic Church, along with receiving the sacrament of the Eucharist. The baby can just get plain, old baptized with little hullabaloo but Sadie needs to attend an adult class consisting of about 1or 12 other adults who for one reason or another need or desire to become fully initiated.
We are learning, or in my case re-learning so many new (um,rather old really) and interesting concepts. Sadie is completely cooperative and engaged in the topic. Her performance at high school this year has been rather dismal so it is encouraging to see her take a class and actually show interest in it. It's been good for both of us. I think we will go to mass soon so she can see what that's like in light of her new education of the our religion.
***
I have been doing tons of things with the house and yard. Too much to mention at this late of an hour. Basically I want to have the house on the market in about 2 months. I want it to be a top competitor in the market, in it's price range. I want a quick sale. These are the things I pray for and move towards. I want us to be back in NJ as soon as possible.
***
I vow , after my return, to have Visentini ravioli every single Thursday night unless work is taking me out to Chakra or the Stoneyfield Inn. Or maybe the Ivy Inn or McCormick's. This alone would soothe my soul in ways I can't describe. The freshness of the pasta and delicateness of the ricotta filling...perfection. A happy Italian cloud in your mouth. This would go a long way in healing my heart and making me feel normal again. I would like Sadie to have this be a tradition in her life again and I think Penny deserves to feel that ravioli joy too.
***
God Bless.
The Lexapro has been good to me. I trudged through about 3 or 4 weeks of feeling very disconnected with the outside world, including children, household chores, and assorted obligations breathing down my neck.
I would like to say that I awakened after week 4 to the dawn of my new, better mental state but that isn't exactly what happened. Instead I found days that I could actually accomplish a thing or two and feeling a little bit proud of myself. Still, there are many non-productive days tucked in between to know that inertia is always hanging around. In so many ways, I know I owe it to the Lexapro to get anything accomplished at all. Prior to this, there was pretty much just inertia.
Some days I feel so inert that I just can't do much of anything besides sit and think. I still have this. I will consult with my psychiatrist over these kind of days, but I also have to be honest and include the days when I am unstoppable and accomplish tasks with ease, tasks that formerly used to send me into a tailspin of despair. There are certain things I am facing, while not ominous, are actually very big in that they require me to contact someone, explain my entire situation for the millionth time (not fun) and move forward with separating Rob from his earthly holdings.
These tasks make me face the fact that he is gone from the earthly realm and remains in eternity, where finance, retirement, ownership of property, daycare, dishes, report cards no longer exists. I need to take over these earthly obligations and responsibilities one by one. If I were someone hired to do this for another person I could knock these jobs out in days. But since we are talking about my late husband, it is beyond difficult to carry it through. Every task carries a heavy emotional burden that I am only capable of doing piece by piece.
Anyway...My Chemical Romance...
This is a band I have grown to love lately. I consider them straight up rock n' roll. They are popular amongst the kiddies, but to me they show a lot of promise to carry on with their gig for a while. If you don't listen to them give them a try. I would love to hear what people have to say about older acts that they remind us of.
I would like to quote you some lyrics that have become my anthem the past couple of months...
From Welcome to the Black Parade:
We hear the call to carry on, we'll carry on
And though you're dead and gone, believe me
Your memory will carry on, we'll carry on
And though you're broken and defeated
You're weary widow marches
***
In other news, Sadie and I have been attending RCIA classes with the goal of getting her baptized and confirmed into the Catholic Church, along with receiving the sacrament of the Eucharist. The baby can just get plain, old baptized with little hullabaloo but Sadie needs to attend an adult class consisting of about 1or 12 other adults who for one reason or another need or desire to become fully initiated.
We are learning, or in my case re-learning so many new (um,rather old really) and interesting concepts. Sadie is completely cooperative and engaged in the topic. Her performance at high school this year has been rather dismal so it is encouraging to see her take a class and actually show interest in it. It's been good for both of us. I think we will go to mass soon so she can see what that's like in light of her new education of the our religion.
***
I have been doing tons of things with the house and yard. Too much to mention at this late of an hour. Basically I want to have the house on the market in about 2 months. I want it to be a top competitor in the market, in it's price range. I want a quick sale. These are the things I pray for and move towards. I want us to be back in NJ as soon as possible.
***
I vow , after my return, to have Visentini ravioli every single Thursday night unless work is taking me out to Chakra or the Stoneyfield Inn. Or maybe the Ivy Inn or McCormick's. This alone would soothe my soul in ways I can't describe. The freshness of the pasta and delicateness of the ricotta filling...perfection. A happy Italian cloud in your mouth. This would go a long way in healing my heart and making me feel normal again. I would like Sadie to have this be a tradition in her life again and I think Penny deserves to feel that ravioli joy too.
***
God Bless.
Thursday, April 03, 2008
What's New?
I hope the Easter holiday was good for all of you who observed it.
The day of the resurrection also happened to be my late husband's first posthumous birthday.
Holidays are normally a little rough on me because I usually host, and since his death hosting has been a nightmare. I always forget to put out or prepare something important. I usually wind up drinking as I cook and then by dinner having a spoiled appetite and a weepy disposition.
This Easter I decided not to host and to find a venue for a decent Sunday brunch. I opted for an Easter brunch buffet at a local country club open to the public. We lingered for hours, talking and relaxing and making many trips to the food tables. For $25 per person, no dishes, no food preparation, it was a complete bargain.
No one but my parents came back to the house, which was spotlessly clean thanks to powers of 10 mg of Lexapro daily, or maybe a very timely episode of motivation that can't otherwise be explained. Me thinks it's the Lexapro. For the first two weeks I was on it I was completely lethargic. When I would have flare-ups of anxiety I would take an Ativan too (0.5 mg) which would make me more tired but would kill the anxiety. I didn't take too much Ativan during this time because I actually felt zombie-ish. To a friend I described it as feeling "disengaged."
A LOT was going on at this time with Sadie. There were some very low-points which gave way to new ways of understanding each other. As a family, she and I, we have a lot of work to do and it's going to take a lot of time and patience, but I see how our relationship could grow. It will never be "normal" simply because I gave birth to her when I was a child, but it can still be an extraordinary relationship (and it is).
Penny is growing and improving upon herself every day. She seems to have an awareness of her father but some kind of knowledge that he is not coming back. He will probably become some kind of mythical influence in her life. I don't think this is avoidable. The important thing is what kind of myth I teach her. Can I help her to find him as some sort of spiritual influence in her life.
This is huge, people. What do you think? At this point she mostly associates him with pictures and with her Spiderman plush toy. Is this healthy? Eventually I will get her into some kind of therapy, play therapy or whatnot when she's older because...God...how do you grow up without a father?
The day of the resurrection also happened to be my late husband's first posthumous birthday.
Holidays are normally a little rough on me because I usually host, and since his death hosting has been a nightmare. I always forget to put out or prepare something important. I usually wind up drinking as I cook and then by dinner having a spoiled appetite and a weepy disposition.
This Easter I decided not to host and to find a venue for a decent Sunday brunch. I opted for an Easter brunch buffet at a local country club open to the public. We lingered for hours, talking and relaxing and making many trips to the food tables. For $25 per person, no dishes, no food preparation, it was a complete bargain.
No one but my parents came back to the house, which was spotlessly clean thanks to powers of 10 mg of Lexapro daily, or maybe a very timely episode of motivation that can't otherwise be explained. Me thinks it's the Lexapro. For the first two weeks I was on it I was completely lethargic. When I would have flare-ups of anxiety I would take an Ativan too (0.5 mg) which would make me more tired but would kill the anxiety. I didn't take too much Ativan during this time because I actually felt zombie-ish. To a friend I described it as feeling "disengaged."
A LOT was going on at this time with Sadie. There were some very low-points which gave way to new ways of understanding each other. As a family, she and I, we have a lot of work to do and it's going to take a lot of time and patience, but I see how our relationship could grow. It will never be "normal" simply because I gave birth to her when I was a child, but it can still be an extraordinary relationship (and it is).
Penny is growing and improving upon herself every day. She seems to have an awareness of her father but some kind of knowledge that he is not coming back. He will probably become some kind of mythical influence in her life. I don't think this is avoidable. The important thing is what kind of myth I teach her. Can I help her to find him as some sort of spiritual influence in her life.
This is huge, people. What do you think? At this point she mostly associates him with pictures and with her Spiderman plush toy. Is this healthy? Eventually I will get her into some kind of therapy, play therapy or whatnot when she's older because...God...how do you grow up without a father?
Thursday, February 14, 2008
This Is Not A Lovesong
Valentine's Day...hmmmm...where to begin?
Best to jump right in.
I've been anticipating this day for months now. I knew it would be hard. Not that Rob and I were the kind of people who dropped big money or did really exciting things on this day, but it was always observed in a special, kind of quiet way. I have a stack of cards bearing beautiful sentiments hidden in my closet to remind me of this.
In late August I purchased the Linkin Park CD Minutes to Midnight and knew that one particular song could sum up exactly how I felt about this whole Valentine's Day thing. I am a big LP fan thanks to Rob. They are one of those bands who have the eerie ability to strike a chord with my present situation in life-whether it's 2001 or 2008 or any year in between.
I spent the evening on YouTube looking up video footage related to this song. They haven't put out their own official video of this song but I was able to catch some concert footage, some bootleg, some not. A lot of people made picture slideshows with the song running in the background. My favorite clips were the amateurs-acoustic guitar renditions, close-ups of fingers strumming electric guitars while the music played in the background, and stripped down versions of piano and voice.
~Valentine's Day~
My insides are turned to ash, so slow
And blew away as I collapsed, so cold
A black wind took them away, from sight
And held the darkness over day, that night
And the clouds above move closer
Looking so disatisfied
But the heartless wind kept blowing, blowing
I used to be my own protection, but not now
Cause my path has lost direction, somehow
A black wind took you away, from sight
And held the darkness over day, that night
And the clouds above move closer
Looking so disatisfied
And the ground below grew colder
As they put you down inside
But the heartless wind kept blowing, blowing
So now you're gone
And I was wrong
I never knew what it was like
To be alone
On a Valentine's
Best to jump right in.
I've been anticipating this day for months now. I knew it would be hard. Not that Rob and I were the kind of people who dropped big money or did really exciting things on this day, but it was always observed in a special, kind of quiet way. I have a stack of cards bearing beautiful sentiments hidden in my closet to remind me of this.
In late August I purchased the Linkin Park CD Minutes to Midnight and knew that one particular song could sum up exactly how I felt about this whole Valentine's Day thing. I am a big LP fan thanks to Rob. They are one of those bands who have the eerie ability to strike a chord with my present situation in life-whether it's 2001 or 2008 or any year in between.
I spent the evening on YouTube looking up video footage related to this song. They haven't put out their own official video of this song but I was able to catch some concert footage, some bootleg, some not. A lot of people made picture slideshows with the song running in the background. My favorite clips were the amateurs-acoustic guitar renditions, close-ups of fingers strumming electric guitars while the music played in the background, and stripped down versions of piano and voice.
~Valentine's Day~
My insides are turned to ash, so slow
And blew away as I collapsed, so cold
A black wind took them away, from sight
And held the darkness over day, that night
And the clouds above move closer
Looking so disatisfied
But the heartless wind kept blowing, blowing
I used to be my own protection, but not now
Cause my path has lost direction, somehow
A black wind took you away, from sight
And held the darkness over day, that night
And the clouds above move closer
Looking so disatisfied
And the ground below grew colder
As they put you down inside
But the heartless wind kept blowing, blowing
So now you're gone
And I was wrong
I never knew what it was like
To be alone
On a Valentine's
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
Short Scoop on the Big Win
Alright, as you all know, I try my hardest to be a decent football fan. I fall short of this most of the time. I did manage to watch most of the game even though I fell asleep for about 5 minutes on the floor during the third quarter. I couldn't help it. Those darn pillow cases are just too soft.
Anyway, it was entertaining to hear my brother and my father debate the plays and keep the commentary rolling. I love listening to sports talk even if I don't understand it too well. There's something comforting about it, probably harkening back to childhood or maybe even far back into when I still lived in my mom's belly. It's been going on around me for as long as I can remember, yet I never quite paid attention to the content as much as I absorbed the tones of voice. I suppose this is why I fell asleep.
At the end when Plaxico caught that pass tears sprang to my eyes, which I hid from everyone. The energy in my house was pulsating. By brother, smelling of a little too much bear, professed his un-dying love for all present, ran circles again around my house with both fists in the air, and then bent down to kiss me and tell me how much he loved me. My parents were clearing delighted. After the game Plaxico was interviewed on the field and although I couldn't hear his voice over the din of my home, I could see he was crying. Tears flowing down his face.
This caused me to cry in a private, bittersweet celebration.
Wiping away tears, I called my friend Laura. We celebrated over the phone while I stood outside, my neighborhood erupting into cheers, the blowing of airhorns, and the setting off of fireworks. All these displaced New Yorkers and Jersey people still have love for their favorite teams up North.
A call came in from JH, which I took, and we celebrated on the phone. I think we both knew that this victory meant a lot more to us than just the Giants winning the Superbowl. It was something that would've delighted Rob endlessly. Like JH said in his comment to my last entry, I also prayed to him during the game to somehow give those guys a hand. A loss would've been crushing. What I choose to believe is that he heard the call and came through.
Anyway, it was entertaining to hear my brother and my father debate the plays and keep the commentary rolling. I love listening to sports talk even if I don't understand it too well. There's something comforting about it, probably harkening back to childhood or maybe even far back into when I still lived in my mom's belly. It's been going on around me for as long as I can remember, yet I never quite paid attention to the content as much as I absorbed the tones of voice. I suppose this is why I fell asleep.
At the end when Plaxico caught that pass tears sprang to my eyes, which I hid from everyone. The energy in my house was pulsating. By brother, smelling of a little too much bear, professed his un-dying love for all present, ran circles again around my house with both fists in the air, and then bent down to kiss me and tell me how much he loved me. My parents were clearing delighted. After the game Plaxico was interviewed on the field and although I couldn't hear his voice over the din of my home, I could see he was crying. Tears flowing down his face.
This caused me to cry in a private, bittersweet celebration.
Wiping away tears, I called my friend Laura. We celebrated over the phone while I stood outside, my neighborhood erupting into cheers, the blowing of airhorns, and the setting off of fireworks. All these displaced New Yorkers and Jersey people still have love for their favorite teams up North.
A call came in from JH, which I took, and we celebrated on the phone. I think we both knew that this victory meant a lot more to us than just the Giants winning the Superbowl. It was something that would've delighted Rob endlessly. Like JH said in his comment to my last entry, I also prayed to him during the game to somehow give those guys a hand. A loss would've been crushing. What I choose to believe is that he heard the call and came through.
Sunday, February 03, 2008
Sneaking in an entry
Well, I had an entry prepared regarding Penny's birthday. I got distracted. The condensced version is as follows:
It was a good day. She got lots of presents and had fun. A bunch of people were over so it was the usual manic scene in my world: a little too much food, a lot of fussing over the too-much-food, some nice memories, some awesome out of town guests, a bit of crying over the fact that Rob couldn't be there, exhaustion, some guilt over not being able to enjoy it the maximum, and then the comfort of my Calvin Klein bedding to take me away from the day for another year.
I do recommend CK bedding highly. It is worth the investment. Whatever gets you through the night...is alright...alright.
The Superbowl: I'm praying for Big Blue to take it all the way today. Not that I care tremendously about football. I just think that with Rob watching from his corner of the universe, wherever that may be, he'd naturally want the Giants to win.
I almost can't stand the idea of watching the Superbowl, but in this family it's a holiday up there with Christmas and Easter. This was always a big day for us. For me it had to do more with the food I was preparing, but for Rob it was all about the love of the game.
Well, this year it's homemade macaroni salad, the old Ebner's Shoparama recipe. Add to that some slowly cooked BBQ spareribs prepared in an oven AND a grill (they're on the grill right now and smelling mighty fine!), burgers, dogs, wine, beer, and soda.
My father, brother, and Penny are probably heading back from Hernando Beach. My mom is out walking. Sadie is at a friends house. The dogs are hovering around the grill, praying that the ribs come back to life and throw themselves onto the patio floor spontaneously. I'm alone on the lanai, just wondering how the hell I got to this point in life.
If Blue wins, I will surely bawl my eyes out. If they don't, it will be another example of working so hard and coming so far for...for what? An anti-climax? In which case I will my bawl my eyes out for them, thinking, "I know. I know boys. All that work to get to the top of whatever and then this."
I mean, listen, I think losing a husband is way worse than losing a Superbowl. IT IS! Trust me, it sucks. That's the only way to say it. But they can always try again. I can't. But I imagine that losing a Superbowl is amazingly heart-breaking.
Well, they're all back. I guess this entries done.
Keeping fingers crossed for the Giants!
It was a good day. She got lots of presents and had fun. A bunch of people were over so it was the usual manic scene in my world: a little too much food, a lot of fussing over the too-much-food, some nice memories, some awesome out of town guests, a bit of crying over the fact that Rob couldn't be there, exhaustion, some guilt over not being able to enjoy it the maximum, and then the comfort of my Calvin Klein bedding to take me away from the day for another year.
I do recommend CK bedding highly. It is worth the investment. Whatever gets you through the night...is alright...alright.
The Superbowl: I'm praying for Big Blue to take it all the way today. Not that I care tremendously about football. I just think that with Rob watching from his corner of the universe, wherever that may be, he'd naturally want the Giants to win.
I almost can't stand the idea of watching the Superbowl, but in this family it's a holiday up there with Christmas and Easter. This was always a big day for us. For me it had to do more with the food I was preparing, but for Rob it was all about the love of the game.
Well, this year it's homemade macaroni salad, the old Ebner's Shoparama recipe. Add to that some slowly cooked BBQ spareribs prepared in an oven AND a grill (they're on the grill right now and smelling mighty fine!), burgers, dogs, wine, beer, and soda.
My father, brother, and Penny are probably heading back from Hernando Beach. My mom is out walking. Sadie is at a friends house. The dogs are hovering around the grill, praying that the ribs come back to life and throw themselves onto the patio floor spontaneously. I'm alone on the lanai, just wondering how the hell I got to this point in life.
If Blue wins, I will surely bawl my eyes out. If they don't, it will be another example of working so hard and coming so far for...for what? An anti-climax? In which case I will my bawl my eyes out for them, thinking, "I know. I know boys. All that work to get to the top of whatever and then this."
I mean, listen, I think losing a husband is way worse than losing a Superbowl. IT IS! Trust me, it sucks. That's the only way to say it. But they can always try again. I can't. But I imagine that losing a Superbowl is amazingly heart-breaking.
Well, they're all back. I guess this entries done.
Keeping fingers crossed for the Giants!
Friday, January 18, 2008
Things of Significance
Another bulleted entry. Another easy way out.
- Broke one of my nails off! It was a two-part process. First, on a Wednesday, I jammed the tip of my nail very hard into the wall while I was groggily reaching for a sweat jacket that was tossed next to my dresser the night before. ('Cuz that's how I roll these days.) The pain was immediate, intense, eye-opening. A little bit of blood oozed out from around the nail bed. The following Friday Penny succeeded in kicking my nail while I had the audacity to change her diaper. The nail needed to be removed immediately because it was sticking out of my finger in a way that made me feel slightly nauseous. It looks so pathetic now.
- Fixed a very special antique lamp that is shaped like a jaguar. It's green. I wonder if Free ever saw it? It lived in the Woodruff's bus during the summer I camped out in it. It is super-cool and as soon as I discover the whereabouts of my camera batteries (or just by new ones when I give up) there will be a pic.
- Had my pool drained and refinished. It looks incredible now. The pool people are coming daily to scrub the sides, add the acid, clean the filter, and check the acidity levels. I am far too disorganized at this point in my life to deal with it. Besides, their fee is very reasonable and the are British, not Floridian, and they are a small breath of fresh air for a couple of minutes a day. Incidentally, I do most of my face to face socialization with contractors and the girls behind the counter at Walgreen's.
- Gone to Walgreen's on a daily basis!
- Started a bunch of bathroom painting projects that are not yet finished. This will give my brother something to do when he gets here Sunday. He is going to be living with me...probably for a long time. If he's still here when I leave for Jersey in a few years, he's going to be obligated to stay here and pay me rent until it's time to leave it and sell it. I've been doing him A LOT of favors lately, because he's my brother and I love him, but I might need some favors eventually too. He has an excellent opportunity to live an independent life here without the scrutiny that would naturally occur when living with parents. He has a good chance to grow and I hope he does.
- Read a couple of really good books. I read Hiassen's Lucky You and Tim Dorsey's Hurricane Punch. I read for the second time Tom Wolfe's Bonfire of the Vanities. The copy I read was Rob's from his college years, in which he underlined and made small notes in the text. That's a pretty nice way to read a book.
- At the moment I am about 3/4 of the way through a book tited A Prayer for Owen Meany. John Irving, the author also wrote The World According to Garp and The Ciderhouse Rules. He's written more but those are the ones I've read. All incredible stories. Owen Meany was the first one I'd ever read. It was a gift from my friend and mentor, Pam as a birthday present in the fall of 2002. It's a story that changed me. When I'm done reading it maybe I'll be able to articulate just how that happened. The Owen Meany character reminds me of Rob, from his small stature to his unusual voice to his honest and brash nature. The way Owen's story ends, how Rob's story ended, and the nature of my own life story at this time-not entirely similar but enough to think about. More on that later...
Tuesday, January 01, 2008
End of the Year Thingy
1. What did you do in 2007 that you’d never done before?
I got a bird’s eye view of a lot of things that I’d prefer not to even remember.
2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I kept some of them. I did lose weight. But I didn’t calm down much like I had hoped.
3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
Some people at work had babies, but that’s about it.
4. Did anyone close to you die?
Yes, my husband.
5. What countries did you visit?
Is Florida considered another country? It’s like another planet as far as I’m concerned.
6. What would you like to have in 2008 that you lacked in 2007?
I would like to actually regain the intense focus and ambition that I had in the earlier part of this year. I would like to have more peace in my life.
7. What dates from 2007 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
Probably the biggest one would be August 2.
8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
It doesn’t feel like an achievement anymore, but packing up our entire lives as a family and moving out of state.
9. What was your biggest failure?
Any time that I may have lost sight of how precious life is.
10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
Nothing big.
11. What was the best thing you bought?
Size 8 jeans. Oh and a slammin’ 4/3/2 with an inground pool on half an acre, flanked by conservation land, a retention canal on a dead end street that happens to be right in the middle of the daily migration of 3 tortoises. Oh and sand cranes. And frogs and slugs and all kinds of creatures I happen to like.
12. Whose behavior merited celebration?
The people who rallied around me after Rob passed away.
13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
Not even worth mentioning. Just watch the news.
14. Where did most of your money go?
Household expenses, moving expenses, relocation expenses.
15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
All of the promise that the move had to offer.
16. What song will always remind you of 2007?
There are always a few answers to this question: “How to Save a Life” by The Fray, “Leave Out All the Rest” and “Shadow of the Day” by Linkin Park, and “Little Lovers So Polite” by the Silversun Pickups.
17. Compared to this time last year, are you: a) happier or sadder? b) thinner or fatter? c) richer or poorer?
Sadder,
Thinner,
About the same
18. What do you wish you’d done more of?
Slowing down, smelling the roses, picking daisies.
19. What do you wish you’d done less of?
Bickering, quarreling, fuming
20. How did you spend Christmas?
With my parents, inlaws, grandparents, and the baby, cooking, drinking wine, and trying to make the best of it.
21. Did you fall in love in 2007?
Next question.
22. What was your favorite TV program?
Never just one answer for this one. The Office, Scrubs, CSI (just Las Vegas really), NCIS, Sunrise Earth, Sponge Bob, The Backyardigans, Animal Precinct and the news. Ellen. Martha Stewart’s show. That’s about it.
23. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?
No. That’s a good thing, right?
24. What was the best book you read?
Skinny Dip by Carl Hiaasen.
25. What was your greatest musical discovery?
Silversun Pickups.
26. What did you want and get?
Recognition at work.
27. What did you want and not get?
Spending the rest of my life in paradise with my husband.
28. What was your favorite film of this year?
I never got out to the movies so I didn’t see anything really current. However, I guess I’d have to say that I really enjoyed Little Miss Sunshine.
29. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
I just tried to get through the day. I may have had a couple of nice phone calls. Nothing special. I turned 33.
30. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
I think we all know the answer to this.
31. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2007?
Jeans, t-shirts, some skirts, some nicer tops, just trying to look like I give a crap for once.
32. What kept you sane?
Lots and lots and lots of emails and phone time and text messages. I love technology.
33. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
Wow, that is hard to answer. Most of them I just don’t have any use for and doubt their sincerity. Maybe Bob Barker, because I think the whole spaying your animals thing is very important and it’s the kind of issue that a celebrity can tackle with sincerity and with actual results.
34. What political issue stirred you the most?
The war, the economy, and as always healthcare.
35. Who did you miss?
My husband, and also everyone I left behind in NJ.
36. Who was the best new person you met?
I’ve met some people that I’ve know for a while with new eyes, and what I’m seeing is beautiful.
37. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2007.
It is sometimes way too short. Don’t waste another minute on anything that gives you guilt or pain if you can possibly help it. Don’t wait for happiness to find you. Seek it.
38. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.
Love is the answer, at least to most of the questions in my heart.
-Jack Johnson, from “Better Together”
Friday, December 21, 2007
The Season
Would it be shocking to say that I am having a hard time getting into the spirit of the season?
Today is December 21 and here's where I'm at: I put the tree up yesterday, very begrudgingly. It was very hard for me to even concentrate on doing it. I kept walking away from it, sort of cursing under my breath, each time I plugged one of the cords to the main electrical line in the tree.
So far there are about a dozen shiny Christmas ball ornaments put up on the tree. At least all of the lights work but that's kind of a no-brainer since it's an artificial tree with built-in lights. Thankfully someone stuffed the tree skirt in the box with the tree last year so that was easy enough to find.
This is the third year I've put this tree up by myself. Prior to this year, Rob would've been sleeping in his recliner with our little gas fireplace blazing next to him. Most likely there would've been an empty bowl that once held ice cream on the side table next to him. Possibly candy wrappers. I would've be huffing and puffing my way down the stairs, quite possibly bursting at the seems with pregnancy. Both of those years I was a little bit ticked off about him sleeping through it, but I always understood why he had to sleep. It always made a funny story anyway, dragging the Christmas tree down two flights of stairs. I would brag about being a tough Slavic chick.
In retrospect, I'm glad I never nagged Rob about that. Anyone who knows me knows I'm a little bit of a nag when necessary. I sort of selected not to be a bitch about the Christmas tree. He loved Christmas so much and I knew he would've been awake to do it if he wasn't so very tired. Both years when he woke up he'd say groggily, "I thought I told you to wait for me."
I think this might be the last year I use this tree. I'm just not into it anymore. I might buy a new one after the holiday is over when everything is marked way down. It might seem like an unnecessary expense, but I'll donate the old tree to the Salvation Army and just start over.
: : : :
I've been working on a menu for Christmas day. My parents, inlaws, grandparents, and Aunt's boyfriend are coming over. I spent a fortune at Publix today. I am baking a ham, a quiche, an onion tart, and cinnamon bread. I think a chocolate cake is going to be made as well. I am also making potatoes, Brussels sprouts (hey it's related to cabbage-it goes with ham!), and carrots. I have assorted cheeses, crackers, and vegetables to put out. Plus olives and pickles.
Would making deviled eggs be overkill? I bought a lot of eggs today and can't decide if I should make some deviled eggs. I think it would be a nice touch, but it might put me over the edge to make a dozen deviled eggs in the middle of everything.
: : : :
Did I mention that I have about 33% of my Christmas shopping complete? Not good. I'm thinking that I'm going to have to resort to gift certificates for everyone. It's the only way I can get it done and at least I can stay within budget. I went out to Linens N' Things and Old Navy in the hopes of finding some presents. Although I found a few things here and there, I managed to spend hundreds of dollars and really not get anywhere as far as presents go. I wound up buying 2 nice curtain rods with curly-cue finials on the end and some really gorgeous drapes. At least my dining room looks a hell of a lot better.
Was it necessary? No. It was completely unproductive as far as accomplishing Christmas shopping. It sucked up a lot of time and money. What can I say? For this whole week I've been walking around in a daze, dreading Christmas, doing everything I can not to think about it. Meanwhile, time marches on and brings me closer to a day when I'm going to be hosting people, cooking a big meal, exchanging presents...all under the hardest of circumstances.
Today is December 21 and here's where I'm at: I put the tree up yesterday, very begrudgingly. It was very hard for me to even concentrate on doing it. I kept walking away from it, sort of cursing under my breath, each time I plugged one of the cords to the main electrical line in the tree.
So far there are about a dozen shiny Christmas ball ornaments put up on the tree. At least all of the lights work but that's kind of a no-brainer since it's an artificial tree with built-in lights. Thankfully someone stuffed the tree skirt in the box with the tree last year so that was easy enough to find.
This is the third year I've put this tree up by myself. Prior to this year, Rob would've been sleeping in his recliner with our little gas fireplace blazing next to him. Most likely there would've been an empty bowl that once held ice cream on the side table next to him. Possibly candy wrappers. I would've be huffing and puffing my way down the stairs, quite possibly bursting at the seems with pregnancy. Both of those years I was a little bit ticked off about him sleeping through it, but I always understood why he had to sleep. It always made a funny story anyway, dragging the Christmas tree down two flights of stairs. I would brag about being a tough Slavic chick.
In retrospect, I'm glad I never nagged Rob about that. Anyone who knows me knows I'm a little bit of a nag when necessary. I sort of selected not to be a bitch about the Christmas tree. He loved Christmas so much and I knew he would've been awake to do it if he wasn't so very tired. Both years when he woke up he'd say groggily, "I thought I told you to wait for me."
I think this might be the last year I use this tree. I'm just not into it anymore. I might buy a new one after the holiday is over when everything is marked way down. It might seem like an unnecessary expense, but I'll donate the old tree to the Salvation Army and just start over.
: : : :
I've been working on a menu for Christmas day. My parents, inlaws, grandparents, and Aunt's boyfriend are coming over. I spent a fortune at Publix today. I am baking a ham, a quiche, an onion tart, and cinnamon bread. I think a chocolate cake is going to be made as well. I am also making potatoes, Brussels sprouts (hey it's related to cabbage-it goes with ham!), and carrots. I have assorted cheeses, crackers, and vegetables to put out. Plus olives and pickles.
Would making deviled eggs be overkill? I bought a lot of eggs today and can't decide if I should make some deviled eggs. I think it would be a nice touch, but it might put me over the edge to make a dozen deviled eggs in the middle of everything.
: : : :
Did I mention that I have about 33% of my Christmas shopping complete? Not good. I'm thinking that I'm going to have to resort to gift certificates for everyone. It's the only way I can get it done and at least I can stay within budget. I went out to Linens N' Things and Old Navy in the hopes of finding some presents. Although I found a few things here and there, I managed to spend hundreds of dollars and really not get anywhere as far as presents go. I wound up buying 2 nice curtain rods with curly-cue finials on the end and some really gorgeous drapes. At least my dining room looks a hell of a lot better.
Was it necessary? No. It was completely unproductive as far as accomplishing Christmas shopping. It sucked up a lot of time and money. What can I say? For this whole week I've been walking around in a daze, dreading Christmas, doing everything I can not to think about it. Meanwhile, time marches on and brings me closer to a day when I'm going to be hosting people, cooking a big meal, exchanging presents...all under the hardest of circumstances.
Monday, December 17, 2007
Midnight Marauders
The other night I dreamt of bears. Sometimes when I dream it is like watching a documentary. Usually dreams like this involve animals. I'm not even in the dream; it is something I'm watching. A narrator's voice will guide me through what I am seeing. In this case it was a bear. It looked like a grizzly I guess, sort of a golden color. The narrator was rattling off details about the bear that I don't really remember. It's always a generic man's voice, by the way.
That's when I actually woke up to the sound of Winnie growling. Evie's hearing must not be as sharp as Winnie's because Winnie is always the first to wake up. Her ears are three years younger than Evie's.
Winnie was staring intently through the blinds covering the sliding glass doors in my bedroom into the lanai. Peeking through the slats I saw two HUGE raccoons on the lanai. Half-asleep and half-doped on NyQuil (fighting a cold) I couldn't believe the size of them. I looked at the clock to see that it was 4:00 am.
My first reaction was to share this sighting with someone. I ran into Sadie's room to tell her that the biggest raccoons I'd ever seen were out on the lanai and did she want to see. She told me to go back to sleep.
All I had to do was turn on the porch light to send them scampering away. They swiftly fit themselves under the baby screen that surrounds the pool and disappeared. I was so freaked out by this occurrence that it took at least an hour to fall back to sleep.
The bandits were after the dog dishes full of food that I had so stupidly left out on the lanai. I fell asleep before remembering to bring them in for the night. The raccoons must have thought they hit the jackpot with these perfectly uniform crunchy morsels, formulated for sensitive stomachs I might add.
In bed I kept thinking about how they could have gotten in. I hadn't seen a torn screen in the lanai. I envisioned one standing on his partner's shoulders, manipulating the latch on the screen door. I couldn't make any sense out of it and fell asleep for a few hours to dream strange dreams with lots of people and dialogue, but nothing worth remembering.
That morning upon brief investigation I noticed that one of the screen was, in fact, ripped. So it's going to cost me some money and it was stupid to leave the dog food out, and I should have known better. However, it was almost worth it to see gigantic raccoons that could magically make themselves so small as to fit under a net that's almost flush with porch floor. It was a pretty interesting brush with nature that I don't necessarily want to repeat.
That's when I actually woke up to the sound of Winnie growling. Evie's hearing must not be as sharp as Winnie's because Winnie is always the first to wake up. Her ears are three years younger than Evie's.
Winnie was staring intently through the blinds covering the sliding glass doors in my bedroom into the lanai. Peeking through the slats I saw two HUGE raccoons on the lanai. Half-asleep and half-doped on NyQuil (fighting a cold) I couldn't believe the size of them. I looked at the clock to see that it was 4:00 am.
My first reaction was to share this sighting with someone. I ran into Sadie's room to tell her that the biggest raccoons I'd ever seen were out on the lanai and did she want to see. She told me to go back to sleep.
All I had to do was turn on the porch light to send them scampering away. They swiftly fit themselves under the baby screen that surrounds the pool and disappeared. I was so freaked out by this occurrence that it took at least an hour to fall back to sleep.
The bandits were after the dog dishes full of food that I had so stupidly left out on the lanai. I fell asleep before remembering to bring them in for the night. The raccoons must have thought they hit the jackpot with these perfectly uniform crunchy morsels, formulated for sensitive stomachs I might add.
In bed I kept thinking about how they could have gotten in. I hadn't seen a torn screen in the lanai. I envisioned one standing on his partner's shoulders, manipulating the latch on the screen door. I couldn't make any sense out of it and fell asleep for a few hours to dream strange dreams with lots of people and dialogue, but nothing worth remembering.
That morning upon brief investigation I noticed that one of the screen was, in fact, ripped. So it's going to cost me some money and it was stupid to leave the dog food out, and I should have known better. However, it was almost worth it to see gigantic raccoons that could magically make themselves so small as to fit under a net that's almost flush with porch floor. It was a pretty interesting brush with nature that I don't necessarily want to repeat.
Saturday, December 15, 2007
Is it over yet?
2007 has been a very difficult year. I am ready for it to be over with. Not that I'm going to be doing anything spectacular on New Year's Eve, trust me, but I am really feeling like it's about time to begin a year over from scratch and work through a lot of things that need attending to.
Since my last entry we have suffered another very sad passage. One of Sadie's friends from her new school passed away. His name was Grant Aleo and he was one of the first friends that Sadie made at Springstead, along with his girlfriend Alex. I had given him and Alex rides home after school many times before Sadie began taking the bus. He was a sweet boy, soft-spoken and he'd always talk to Penny on the ride, which I found endearing.
(Jean-in terms of a general appearance and vibe, think of our dear friend Pat from back home.)
The morning he died Sadie called me from the bathroom at school, with a very bad connection on the cell, crying hysterically. All I could here her say was the word "died" in between tears and static. I began shaking and barked into the phone to text me. Her text came with the horrible news: Grant died last night.
I immediately texted her back to just go to the office right away. I raced to the school crying. My heart was swallowed up with grief all over again, for I have had a fresh taste of just how awful and final death can be. I kept thinking about his family and all of these confused kids who counted him among their own.
With minimal delay I retrieved Sadie from school and we spent the rest of the day in a stupor, intermittently crying and walking around like zombies. How absolutely unfair it is that someone so young could have their life snuffed out in an instant. All of that promise of what lies ahead absolutely gone.
For the record, the girl driving was not drunk. This was a rumor that began circulating immediately. She is currently still in an ICU following reconstructive skull surgery. Grant's was the only fatality. Sadie's ex-boyfriend Ronnie was in the crash and was in the hospital for 2 days for a concussion and he looks like he's going to be fine. The fourth passenger, another girl, was discharged from the ER the night of the accident.
The kids have been tremendous. They have been visiting Grant's family from the get-go, which his mother and father find very therapeutic. For the first week after the accident kids gathered by the dozens or more to hold vigils at favorite hangouts. They have collected hundreds of dollars for the families affected by the accident. They held a lovely vigil at a park where over a hundred of them gathered to give speeches and be together. On the day of the funeral they let off at least 99 red balloons, maybe more, at 7:32 am in the high school football field.
Following that was the funeral, the first I've gone to since Rob's. I drove Sadie and her friends Vince and Samantha up to Bushnell National Cemetery where the masses gathered for a brief service followed by paying respects to the family. More red balloons.
I cried so hard watching those balloons go and watching the coffin get loaded on to a truck with the flowers for burial. I asked Grant to please say Hello to my husband, and Grandma Shaw, and my Aunt Tootie, and her husband, and some other relatives and friends if he should happen to bump into them, if that in fact is what happens when you die.
And then I thought that maybe that's not what happens at all. Maybe our souls just continue to recycle themselves into other lives. Maybe Grant's just getting ready to give life another try in another form and maybe my late husband is already back on Earth (or possibly still in someone's belly) a baby somewhere, starting out fresh.
Either way sounds like some kind of salvation.
Since my last entry we have suffered another very sad passage. One of Sadie's friends from her new school passed away. His name was Grant Aleo and he was one of the first friends that Sadie made at Springstead, along with his girlfriend Alex. I had given him and Alex rides home after school many times before Sadie began taking the bus. He was a sweet boy, soft-spoken and he'd always talk to Penny on the ride, which I found endearing.
(Jean-in terms of a general appearance and vibe, think of our dear friend Pat from back home.)
The morning he died Sadie called me from the bathroom at school, with a very bad connection on the cell, crying hysterically. All I could here her say was the word "died" in between tears and static. I began shaking and barked into the phone to text me. Her text came with the horrible news: Grant died last night.
I immediately texted her back to just go to the office right away. I raced to the school crying. My heart was swallowed up with grief all over again, for I have had a fresh taste of just how awful and final death can be. I kept thinking about his family and all of these confused kids who counted him among their own.
With minimal delay I retrieved Sadie from school and we spent the rest of the day in a stupor, intermittently crying and walking around like zombies. How absolutely unfair it is that someone so young could have their life snuffed out in an instant. All of that promise of what lies ahead absolutely gone.
For the record, the girl driving was not drunk. This was a rumor that began circulating immediately. She is currently still in an ICU following reconstructive skull surgery. Grant's was the only fatality. Sadie's ex-boyfriend Ronnie was in the crash and was in the hospital for 2 days for a concussion and he looks like he's going to be fine. The fourth passenger, another girl, was discharged from the ER the night of the accident.
The kids have been tremendous. They have been visiting Grant's family from the get-go, which his mother and father find very therapeutic. For the first week after the accident kids gathered by the dozens or more to hold vigils at favorite hangouts. They have collected hundreds of dollars for the families affected by the accident. They held a lovely vigil at a park where over a hundred of them gathered to give speeches and be together. On the day of the funeral they let off at least 99 red balloons, maybe more, at 7:32 am in the high school football field.
Following that was the funeral, the first I've gone to since Rob's. I drove Sadie and her friends Vince and Samantha up to Bushnell National Cemetery where the masses gathered for a brief service followed by paying respects to the family. More red balloons.
I cried so hard watching those balloons go and watching the coffin get loaded on to a truck with the flowers for burial. I asked Grant to please say Hello to my husband, and Grandma Shaw, and my Aunt Tootie, and her husband, and some other relatives and friends if he should happen to bump into them, if that in fact is what happens when you die.
And then I thought that maybe that's not what happens at all. Maybe our souls just continue to recycle themselves into other lives. Maybe Grant's just getting ready to give life another try in another form and maybe my late husband is already back on Earth (or possibly still in someone's belly) a baby somewhere, starting out fresh.
Either way sounds like some kind of salvation.
Saturday, December 01, 2007
Filling in the Blanks
The problem with not updating often is that so much of life goes by without documenting any of the content and then when I finally do get around to writing entries they sort of stand out there alone, like naked bombshells. Instead of watching, or in this case reading, my life unfold in a sequence that makes sense, it appears that I am literally jumping from points A or B to some Martian coordinate.
The problem with updating often is that a lot of times I just don't have anything nice to say.
Don't get me wrong, I am hell-bent on enjoying motherhood no matter what. These girls are only going to be children once and the last thing they need is some batty widow of a mother living in the past and feeling sorry for herself and dragging them down with her. Judging by how quickly fifteen years has passed since the day Sadie was born, I'm expecting Penny to be wearing make-up and driving and causing trouble in the blink of an eye. It just goes too fast for me to waste any time not trying to enjoy it.
Right now the girls and I are at a point of comfort among each other. It hasn't been easy-we have had some very hard moments figuring out how to deal with ourselves and each other in Rob's absence. We are slowly finding ourselves and picking up the pieces. Very shortly my brother is going to be moving in with us, for better or for worse, which should make life interesting and hopefully a little bit easier. Probably a bit less lonely too.
You should know that before sitting down to the computer I was watching boxing on the Spanish channel. And before that I was watching Cops. And before that, Dr. G Medical Examiner. By myself. And now I'm contemplating finishing painting the bathroom OR...maybe doing some number and logic puzzles. So yeah, life is a little boring sometimes.
Also at this moment, ta-da, I am in the middle of a family feud that I need like a $!*#ing hole in the head. I really would rather not spell out the particulars here, but I would like to say that absolutely no one in the world has the right to scream in my face in front of any of my children. Naturally my anxiety level is off the charts because of this. I feel like for each step forward I make towards personal progress, something or other outside of myself drags me back a step or two.
There have been a lot of really strange things going on around here leading up to the latest debacle and I have been trying so hard to keep in mind that people get very confused and crazy by grief, but there comes a point where you really can't accept certain things, no matter what the reason is behind it. I hate to even discuss these things so obscurely because it's just not fair to the reader. Let me just say that all of this crap is just making me hate being in Florida more and more each day.
Big surprise? I painted beautiful pictures of how beautiful it is here and how friendly the people are but there are things of beauty in New Jersey and life is not made of cheery 10 second conversations in Dunkin Donuts alone. Every time I go anywhere I pass signs for places that Rob and I were supposed to visit. Every highway I get on leads to a place that we were supposed to find together. It is very depressing and makes me feel very bitter.
And then one day, after one or two fairly unbearable events occurred, I realized that, goddamn it, I am an adult woman with good career potential and the brains and will to coordinate just about goddamn anything I desire in life, plus having just inherited my husband's set of brass balls (because someone's gotta have them)...I realized that I don't have to stay here forever. Staying in Florida is optional.
What relief I felt when this revelation appeared!
In this day and age, people move all over the place all the time. This is what airplanes, trains, and cars are FOR. This is what the telephone and internet are FOR. I do not have to live here just because my family does. And people do not have to like my decision. This is not a requirement. This is my life, I'm presuming that it's the only one I've got even though I still cling to the very Buddhist idea of rebirth.
Well, how about if within this life of mine, I stage my own rebirth? It's really my job create my own happiness. No one else is going to do it for me.
The problem with updating often is that a lot of times I just don't have anything nice to say.
Don't get me wrong, I am hell-bent on enjoying motherhood no matter what. These girls are only going to be children once and the last thing they need is some batty widow of a mother living in the past and feeling sorry for herself and dragging them down with her. Judging by how quickly fifteen years has passed since the day Sadie was born, I'm expecting Penny to be wearing make-up and driving and causing trouble in the blink of an eye. It just goes too fast for me to waste any time not trying to enjoy it.
Right now the girls and I are at a point of comfort among each other. It hasn't been easy-we have had some very hard moments figuring out how to deal with ourselves and each other in Rob's absence. We are slowly finding ourselves and picking up the pieces. Very shortly my brother is going to be moving in with us, for better or for worse, which should make life interesting and hopefully a little bit easier. Probably a bit less lonely too.
You should know that before sitting down to the computer I was watching boxing on the Spanish channel. And before that I was watching Cops. And before that, Dr. G Medical Examiner. By myself. And now I'm contemplating finishing painting the bathroom OR...maybe doing some number and logic puzzles. So yeah, life is a little boring sometimes.
Also at this moment, ta-da, I am in the middle of a family feud that I need like a $!*#ing hole in the head. I really would rather not spell out the particulars here, but I would like to say that absolutely no one in the world has the right to scream in my face in front of any of my children. Naturally my anxiety level is off the charts because of this. I feel like for each step forward I make towards personal progress, something or other outside of myself drags me back a step or two.
There have been a lot of really strange things going on around here leading up to the latest debacle and I have been trying so hard to keep in mind that people get very confused and crazy by grief, but there comes a point where you really can't accept certain things, no matter what the reason is behind it. I hate to even discuss these things so obscurely because it's just not fair to the reader. Let me just say that all of this crap is just making me hate being in Florida more and more each day.
Big surprise? I painted beautiful pictures of how beautiful it is here and how friendly the people are but there are things of beauty in New Jersey and life is not made of cheery 10 second conversations in Dunkin Donuts alone. Every time I go anywhere I pass signs for places that Rob and I were supposed to visit. Every highway I get on leads to a place that we were supposed to find together. It is very depressing and makes me feel very bitter.
And then one day, after one or two fairly unbearable events occurred, I realized that, goddamn it, I am an adult woman with good career potential and the brains and will to coordinate just about goddamn anything I desire in life, plus having just inherited my husband's set of brass balls (because someone's gotta have them)...I realized that I don't have to stay here forever. Staying in Florida is optional.
What relief I felt when this revelation appeared!
In this day and age, people move all over the place all the time. This is what airplanes, trains, and cars are FOR. This is what the telephone and internet are FOR. I do not have to live here just because my family does. And people do not have to like my decision. This is not a requirement. This is my life, I'm presuming that it's the only one I've got even though I still cling to the very Buddhist idea of rebirth.
Well, how about if within this life of mine, I stage my own rebirth? It's really my job create my own happiness. No one else is going to do it for me.
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