I've Had Enough...

My mind is all over the place right now, and if I don't get some of this stuff out of my head, I am going to go crazy.  This won't be the most well-worded post because I'm typing at the speed of my brain, and some of the rules of grammar might be neglected.  I don't care.

First of all, as I sit to type this post, I am keenly aware that it is an arrogant thing to post about what runs through my own mind.  I mean, who really cares what I have to say?  I know this.  Yet those of you readers that know me, know I am not an arrogant person.  It feels very weird and I feel very vulnerable throwing myself out here like this with each post.  But as I said when I started my blog, I am doing this as a way to connect with people, and talk about things that maybe others are thinking but yet not talking about.  I guess I hoped that there would be more written responses to my posts, and some good conversations starting that way, but so far that hasn't been the case.  I'll admit it's made me question at times if it's worth it, but I'm fairly certain that what I think and feel, is thought and felt by others, too.  This is just a new way of connection that I am exploring.  I've also come to realize that it's also therapeutic for me.  I was a journalism major, and writing is one of the best releases I have.  I had forgotten that part of myself.  So for those of you that read my posts, and might have even the slightest care as to what runs through my head, know that I appreciate it so much more than I can ever express. 

Onto the next thing in the racetrack of my mind...

I've had enough in regards to some of the fall out in response to the horrifying Sandy Hook school shootings. All over TV and radio, in newspapers, online, and on Facebook there are people arguing about what is right for this country in regards to gun control and mental health issues.  It frustrates me to no end that in the midst of the most unthinkable grief that people are going through, people are arguing and forcing their opinions out into the world as if it's the only correct one, and just continuing to spew anger because someone disagrees with their viewpoint.  An intense, heated or passionate discussion is one thing, but when people just throw the gloves down and go at it, it's crossed the line of civility.  What happened to being open-minded to someone else's opinion? What happened to remembering that what might be right for one, may not be right for another?   There is no one right answer to anything, much less topics of this magnitude.  If there were, there'd be no argument.  But that doesn't seem good enough for some people out there.  More than ever I have been shown that some people just want to argue for sake or arguing, and for trying to be right.  But all that does is just compound the negatives, and spread the anger, and it deters away from the matters at hand.  What good has ever come from an argument?  I think most people would say they want to be treated with respect, compassion, kindness, and friendship, or as it'd been said, "we should treat others as we want to be treated".  At what point do people throw that out the window and not give a crap about someone else's feelings?           

Those kids and teachers at Sandy Hook left this world seeing the anger, and hate, and bad in the world.  Now as we all mourn the loss of those precious lives, we see their loved ones focusing on positives, wanting their loved ones remembered for their good qualities, and are searching for ways to have the positives outshine the negatives in the world.  They want us to come together, to be better, to be positive influences in this world.  A parent of one of the surviving children said that his son is now scared of "the bad guy" all the time.  That kid's parents don't want their son living that way.  None of us want to live that way.  We all know we can't eliminate or shut the bad out, but those kids knew no bad, no hatred.  At what point in life do we learn to be so awful towards one another? 

So much energy is spent arguing, or trying to be right.  Imagine what would happen if all of that passion, that energy, were spent on doing good in the world.  If it were spent LISTENING to other people.  If it were spent cherishing friends and loved ones, and actually telling them - not just assuming they know.  If it were spent trying to come to an understanding of someone else's point of view, without insults or judgment.  We all know how it feels when someone tells us they love us, when someone understands us, and respects us.   I fail to comprehend why that way of living is not more prevalent, especially in trying times.  I'm not suggesting we all sit together and hold hands and sing, but that we quit fighting over our differences and forge ahead with our similarities. 

As I scan my Facebook news feed, I see more and more expressions of friendship and kindness being shared by people sending their love and support to Newtown, CT.  People sending wishes of peace, love and friendship to people they have never even met.  It's that type of thing we need more of everyday, not just in times of tragedy.  Wouldn't you agree?  Wouldn't that give you a more positive view of the world?  Your kids??

I even got involved in a small way and I made a ribbon to hang on my Christmas tree to honor the kids and teachers.  I found a scrap of white ribbon, and a scrap of a Crayola ribbon.  To me, the Crayola ribbon symbolizes the youth that was lost, and the teardrop eyelet in the center represents the millions of tears shed by those with an aching heart.  It reminds me of the sadness I feel for the victims, their families and friends, and everyone in Newtown.  But it also reminds me of the innocence that we all still have inside of us, the love that we can share with one another, and how we can come together.   

So, I am going to close this post, go take some aspirin to alleviate the headache I have, and focus on some positive, good, and happy things, and remember that the world is a pretty great place. Together we make it great. Apart it is broken - we are broken. I hope that as we realize that more than ever as we now move on and deal with tragedy. And just maybe, change our little corners of the world, and  in that way make the whole world a little bit better than those kids and teachers left it. They deserve it. We all do, too. 



Four Reflections of This November

Oh, the holidays are here, and November is coming to a close.  I know so because my head is spinning.  I feel this incessant desire to plan, make list after list after list, and be constantly moving to get everything I want done, done.  But I also feel this need to just sit and reflect.  I try to do both and that is what gives me the spinning sensation.  So I'll take this opportunity to be still and do my reflecting while I take a decorating break and type!  In trying to keep it somewhat organized, I've divided my thoughts into four reflections. 

Reflection #1
It's hard to believe that Thanksgiving has already come and gone.  Thanksgiving itself means that it is a time to pause and reflect, live in the present, and taking notice of the good in all our lives.  I always hope that everyone does that because I think that needs to happen more often in the bustle of life.  I've always been one to reflect and take notice, and this holiday was no exception.  I always know I'm having a good time when I don't think of being anywhere else than where I am at that moment, and that's how I felt this Thanksgiving.  My husband, our dog, and I spent two days and nights at my stepsister and her partner's cabin, along with their two dogs, my dad, stepmom, mom, and one of my husband's aunts.  The guest list alone is what makes me thankful - being able to spend a holiday with most of our family in one place at one time (although we do miss those who live far away, of course).  The best part is, everyone truly likes each other and gets along really well.  It's quite unusual to have a family and stepfamily being as intertwined as mine are, but I feel so lucky that it has become this way.  It's not always rainbows and kittens and sunshine, and believe me, it still has its share of struggles, but it is the good that came from the bad.  It wasn't until my brother was in his second bout with cancer that the lines between family and stepfamily started to erode.  When he eventually passed, that really was the catalyst for my two families becoming like one.  This sounds just awful, but if my brother were still here, a holiday like this Thanksgiving would not have happened.  Oh sure, some will say, "You don't know that", but oh, yes I do.  This has even been a topic of discussion amongst my family and we are all in agreement.  My brother had a lot of anger and resentment in him, and he was the dividing line between the two sides.  He and I had our time with my dad and stepmom, and then our time with mom, but he would never work at building a relationship with our stepsiblings.  I'm certain much of that had to do with the fact that my mom was alone, and he didn't want to do anything to hurt her feelings, or make her feel "second best" .  I on the other hand, was a lot younger, and I welcomed a bigger family.  I wanted to be closer to that new side, but I also felt the worries of showing preference or hurting feelings.  But in my own young ways, I did reach out and forge relationships with them to a certain extent (again, stopping at a certain point due to how some people might feel), but my brother was set on being the driving force behind the clear division, purposely or not.  But when he got ill again, went downhill, and into hospice, he actually became the reason the lines faded.  My three parents needed to work together, support one another, help him, and support him.  Once he passed away, my dad and stepmom took it upon themselves to look after my mom.  Since then, there have been countless birthdays, holidays, projects, and typical evenings spent together.  Like I said, there are still struggles, but the reality is that it's pretty dang good.  

I do not answer the question of, "Which would you rather - have your brother here, or have your family be the way it is now?" because there is no answer.  Of course I want him here, and miss him every day.  But yet I'm so grateful to have moments like we did at Thanksgiving - together as one family. 

Reflection #2
On a WAY lighter note, this is also the one year mark of me having braces!  Yup, I got braces as a 37-year-old, and by choice.  No one told me I needed them, although I probably should have had them as kid, but really, my teeth were fine.  I just decided to do it because I felt my teeth shifting as I got older, and the few "imperfections" I had were getting more and more obvious, but only to me.  I didn't set out to get perfect teeth, just to fix a few things that bugged me.  I had actually planned on doing it for a long time, but finally bit the bullet last year.  In all honesty, I would have totally chickened out, but my husband and I had set aside flex money for it, and I couldn't come up with any other medical or dental things to use the money for.  So here I am at a year, and for as good as it has been, I'm ready to be done with it.  I find out how much longer they will be on next week!  Here's to hoping it's just a little while longer!!

Reflection #3
It is also the one year mark of my temporary retirement!  Last year, my job was cut, and I left the company I had worked at for nearly 13 years.  It was hard to say goodbye to my work family, but leaving that job was a blessing.  I felt trapped by it, the "velvet handcuff syndrome" as someone once referred to it.  I had a good job, I made good money, I had freedom, I got along with my boss (my department was just the two of us), and I liked most of the people.  But I didn't like what I did, and I didn't like the way things were going at the company.  I always longed for something more, but I didn't know exactly what that was, and I wasn't about to give up the perks I had for something unknown.  I am not by any means a risk-taker, and I certainly wasn't going to choose to leave a good thing at a time when jobs were so hard to come by .  So for me personally, leaving allowed me to finally look beyond the walls of that place, and I felt like I could breathe again.  I've spent the past year putting my life in order from cleaning out and reorganizing every one of possessions, to doing some redecorating, and doing projects I always wanted to but never *thought* I had time for.  I've spent so much quality time with my aging beloved dog.  I've spent time looking at my life, learning about it, analyzing it, figuring out ME, like doing my own psych study.  It's been an opportunity for me to really figure some things out about myself, and deal with some things I needed to.  And there are moments where it's like I can feel it all coming together.  It's been a fast ride this past year, but I'm so grateful that I have had this chance to slow down from the pace I was at before.  I have a wish that everyone at some point, in some manner, gets the same opportunity.

Reflection #4
Another Gopher football season (well, except for an upcoming bowl game) has come to an end.  Gopher football is a big deal in my house because both my husband and I were in the U of M Marching Band (a topic I will surely write of at later dates), and football seasons now are like the next best thing.  We spend game days with our friends who truly are our family, and every game day is the best "family reunion".  It's the most heartwarming experience to be again surrounded by so many people that we've been through so much with.  I guess you could say we have season football tickets for a few reasons other than the actual game!  It's always bittersweet when the season ends because the weekends of tailgating, reunions, and just being around the college football atmosphere are on hiatus for another year.  But on the bright side, that means it's hockey and basketball season!     

I'm sure as time goes by I'll write about each of those four reflections more, and in more detail, and hopefully that won't be boring to those of you who read my posts. 

I hope you all have had the chance to do some holiday reflecting of your own, and that you all have so much to be thankful for, at Thanksgiving and each and every day. 

Later, Friends!  I'm goin' back to the jolly work of Christmas decorating!!  Thanks for reading, and until next time...

 

 
 

Something to Chew On

As Thanksgiving approaches, life seems so heavy right now.  Post election drama everywhere, hurricane aftermath, and so many friends having medical issues and surgeries.  So, to lighten the mood, or at least my mood, a bit, I'm bringing the tone of this post way down compared to the other posts I've written so far.  Nothing deep or overly insightful, just a light, fun topic to think about!  Especially now that winter is upon us. 

A few weeks back, I cleaning out a stack of magazines and came across a Cooking Light in which the editor's article was talking about comfort food, and he listed his ten favorite comfort foods are.  (Sorry, I don't have the month or year of publication, I recycled it already.)  Naturally, that got me wondering what my favorite comfort foods are.  To me, comfort foods are the ones I seek out without much thought, foods I crave, ones that are familiar and I know how they'll taste.  I consider them "safe".  Not necessarily my favorites, but my safety nets.  I have to note that I'm not a foodie.  I don't try a lot of new foods, and if I don't know what it is, I won't eat it.  Many of my friends are "foodies", and my husband is, too.  But not me, I find something I like and stick with it.  As an example, at Subway, I always get a turkey or turkey bacon sandwich.  I tried a meatball sub for the first time ever THIS YEAR!  I know I'm weird, but I'm ok with it!        

In trying to come up with my list, I spent way too much time thinking about this (overthinking!).  After much self-deliberation, I condensed my list to only ten.  I kept it to non-restaurant specific foods, as that would be a whole other list.  So here is my list, in NO particular order: 

1)  Mashed potatoes.  I can never get enough, and I have a ritual as to how I eat them. I mash them down with my fork, then create a dividing line down the middle.  One side gets slathered in butter, the other side is gravied.  I started doing that when I was really little because I couldn't decide between the two.  This way, I got both.  For the win!

2)  Green olive and mushroom pizza.  It doesn't matter where it comes from or who makes it, this is always my first choice.

3)  Goldenrod.  This is a family tradition that I grew up with from my grandma, my dad's mom.  It's essentially creamed eggs.  The sauce is nothing more than flour, butter and hard boiled egg whites, served over toast, with grated egg yolks on top.  It probably sounds gross to most people, but I crave the stuff.  We usually only have it on Easter or Christmas for breakfast, but my husband and I have incorporated it into our meal repertoire more frequently.  I think we have had it twice in the last month, and usually for dinner!

4)  Hashbrowns and sausage.  I will eat this combo anywhere, at anytime.  (And this, or a McDonald's sausage and cheese McMuffin is my hangover cure!)

5)  Coke.  Seriously, Coca-Cola.  Coke is food!!  If I feel hungry and can't decide what I want, I have a Coke and I'm fine!

6)  Cereal.  There are only five kinds that I eat, and to most everyone, they are BOR-ING.  They are:  Bran Flakes, Corn Flakes, Rice Krispies, Cheerios, and if I'm feeling like shaking it up, Apple Jacks.

7)  Any combination of cheese and bread.  Cheese and crackers, cheesebread, cheese pizza, grilled cheese sandwiches, cheesesticks, ... you get the idea.   

8)  Tuna Salad.  How we make it is by taking small shell shaped pasta and mixing it with tuna fish, Miracle Whip, thawed frozen peas, and sprinkled with paprika.  It's not complete without a bunch of potato chips on the side! 

9)  Chocolate milkshakes.  Plain and simple and nummy chocolate shakes.  Not malts!

10)   Mush.  My mush is rice, grilled chicken, mushrooms and zucchini, all mixed together and tossed in a teriyaki sauce. 

There you have it, my boring list of comfort foods.  What's funny about this list is that I am not and never have been a breakfast eater.  Yet there are 3 foods on there that are first and foremost breakfast foods.  That's kinda funny to me. 

Anyhoo, what is YOUR definition of comfort food?  And what is on your list?  Any good recipes to share?  It's something fun to think about! 

Until next time...

"... A Cluster When There is Hardly Time to Breathe."

"Life comes in clusters, clusters of solitude, then a cluster when there is hardly time to breathe."  ~ May Sarton

I came across that quote today as I was going through and purging old magazines, and that last part of it couldn't be more fitting for what I have recently been reflecting on.  It was that quote that inspired this post.

This past weekend was my 12th wedding anniversary!  Already!  It just doesn't seem like it has been that long.  Yet in the same turn, it feels like forever (and I don't mean that in a bad way).  I've been married to my husband for twelve years, but I have known him for 20.  It's hard to remember parts of my life he wasn't around for as either an acquaintance, friend, best friend, boyfriend, fiancé, or husband.  With that kind of history, you would think that our wedding day would have been the best day of our lives.  And by all accounts, isn't your wedding day supposed to be?!  Ours was in many ways, but it wasn't, too.  What I remember most of the whole thing is that there was "hardly time to breathe".

You see, our engagement time was not the magical time most of us always dream it to be.  Of course there was stress about wedding planning and the cost of everything, but that was expected.  Our wedding was in October of 2000, and this is the timeline of the 13 months leading up to it:

~  In September of 1999, my grandma passed away. My last living grandparent and the one I was closest to. 
~  About three weeks after her passing, we got engaged during a weekend trip to Chicago!
~  My brother, and only sibling, was battling cancer for the second time in his life, and in the fourth year of that second bout.
~  Within a few weeks of our engagement, he went into hospice. 
~  That December, he passed away ten days before Christmas.
~  A cousin of mine lost her battle with breast cancer. 
~  One of my best friends in the world was going to be a bridesmaid in the wedding, but she was unable to get approved leave from the Army to be there.
~  My fiancé and I moved out of the house we shard with 6 other friends, and moved into our own place.  Searching for a new place and moving is always stressful, but leaving that house and our friends was really tough.
~  Then a month before the wedding, my family dog had to be put to sleep. 

I don't remember too much of that year, other than immeasurable stress.  Planning a wedding was stressful enough, but adding in loss after loss and deep grieving just made it seem surreal.  I recall one instance when my now husband said to my mom that he felt bad for the timing of our engagement.  She said there was nothing to apologize or feel bad for because she needed something good, and something to look forward to.  That eased both of our minds, ever so slightly.   

When our wedding day finally came to fruition, it wasn't a day of eternal bliss for me. The wedding and the planning and the whole process was so tied to all of the bad and sad, that I really just wanted it over.  That whole year leading up to the big day, one thought I had was that AFTER the wedding the "new normal" would start, and then I could finally breathe, just maybe.  A new normal that would include a husband, but go on without my brother, my cousin, my grandma, my pet, and in some ways, the friends we moved away from.  I'd take on a new name, and I'd become a different person in a lot of ways.  And the fact that of all people, my brother wouldn't know the "new me" was almost impossible to comprehend.  But with all that in mind, the fact of having no more planning to do or huge checks to write was indeed a bright spot to see at the end of what felt like an endless, dark tunnel. 

As backwards as it sounds, our wedding wasn't about us. We knew we'd be married, and that the overall objective would happen, but we wanted it to be for everyone there that we loved.  We wanted it to be a great, memorable night for everyone, not just us.  My constant stress and fear had turned its focus onto the events of the present.  I was worried sick that people weren't having a good time, worried that people didn't like the food, worried that I wasn't spending enough time with people, ... worried worried worried.  My head was spinning.  I wanted to enjoy it all so badly, but more so, I just wanted it over.  At dinner my husband and I each spoke, and I clearly remember saying that I was glad this day had come and almost gone.  That sounds horrible, but everyone there knew what I meant.  But at that moment, it made me sad that that was how I saw our wedding.  It was genuine and true, but sad as hell. 

I cried really hard in the arms of my new husband as the last song played at the reception.  That 'cluster of no room to breathe' was almost over.  For as glad as I was to see it come to an end, I was just as sad about it, too.  I've always been one with a lot of conflicting emotions, and that day was the epitome. 

To this day, even though it's impossible, I would still give anything for our wedding to have been surrounded by different, less heart-wrenching circumstances. I can't change the fact that our wedding was in many ways defined by loss, but over time my conflict of emotions regarding our wedding day have ceased and really turned to just focus on the positives.  Here are just a few of the highlights:

~ The weather that day was amazing! It was about 70 degrees, sunny, and a little past peak with the fall colors. It was one of those autumn days you just want to bottle up!
~ We luckily didn't get many "no" responses, so we were surrounded by about 275 friends and family. Moments like that happen so rarely in life that it's simply humbling to be surrounded by so much love!
~  One of our best friends was able to get leave from the Army to be there in the wedding!  (He was in a different part of the army than my bridesmaid who didn't get approved leave.)
~ Nothing really went wrong with the wedding or reception. A few of the disposable cameras didn't work, and the food was not the same as we had initially tasted, but those things are so miniscule that they didn't ever count as an error to us.
~  Even in the midst of all my worrying, I witnessed our friends and family having a really great time.
~ Our wedding actually inspired one of our best friends to ask out someone he liked. Four years later, they were married!
~  Our singer, a dear friend of my husband's named Jim Mitchell, gave us one of the best gifts of all just by being there that day (he was not in the best of health).  I'm pretty certain that everyone that was there that day remembers his extraordinary voice.  It's one of the best we've ever heard, and still brings tears to our eyes when we think of it.
~ One of our friends who was a relatively new girlfriend of an old roommate, at that time, told me just a few years ago that, "that was the night {she} fell in love with his friends"! 
~ Ours was one of 13 weddings we had that year! What fun to share the wedding phase of life with so many friends!
~ I remember all the hugs and kisses from our friends and family I received that day.
~ And best of all, we were married!!

Throught all these years, people have told us stories from our big day and talk about what a great time they had, or certain things that happened that night.  Every story is nothing but fun, happiness, or a compliment to the event we put together.  It took me a long time to truly believe all of that good stuff because that was so not how I felt inside.  As I look back at pictures from that day, I am indeed smiling a genuine smile, and I remember feeling surrounded by love from everyone there.  Every tear I shed that day was a true, raw emotion, whether it was joy, gratefulness, or sadness.  And every smile and hug I gave was sincere and from my heart, and the ones I got in return meant more than any others I'd ever received.  I could not have gotten through that year of my life without the constant, unwavering support from my then fiancé and our friends.  When I look back on that time, that is now what is in the forefront of my mind.  And all of that support will forever touch my heart.  That is what got me to breathe once again....   
 
Now that I have rambled on for so long, I'm asking myself, "Why am I even writing about this?"  I guess partially in a way to still process everything that happened, to re-examine it, and to remember that it's always best to focus on the positives, and the love that are around me.  It's always a good reminder for me, and i think anyone else to remember that the tough times do get better, and the good does shine through.  I feel so incredibly lucky to have been, and still be surrounded by so many amazing people who support me, support us, and love us.  For that reason alone, I'd love to do it all over again!  I wouldn't have a second wedding or vow renewal, but I am thinking of a huge anniversary party some year (and that sounds truly FUN to plan)!  But also, I'm writing this to those of you who were there to share our day with us.  It still means as much to me now as it did then to have you there, and I am so grateful to have all of you still present in my life.  I can never express enough thanks for appreciation for being a part of my family, because that's what you are.  You have added so much to my life, and I love you all....





     

Beginnings & Endings...

I want to start off by saying a sincere and heartfelt "THANK YOU!" to all of you who have read my first posts, and have been so supportive and encouraging! What a blessing it is to have such wonderful friends in my life.  Not a day goes by I don't keep that in the forefront of my mind!  Especially during a time like this...

It has been a topsy-turvy past two days emotionally.  And the reasons why don't even have anything to do with me.  (In advance I apologize if this is not the most put-together post.)  First, I was informed of the most wonderful news!  Yesterday, a dear friend of mine had her dream of becoming a mother come true!  After years of longing and wishing and praying, she and her husband could finally have a child all their own.  What could be better than that?!  That news made my heart smile, and filled me with so much joy for them, and for this new baby who would call my friends his parents!  Being by your friend's side (whether it be physically or miles apart) and watch them realize a dream is a powerful, deeply moving experience.  And the positivity that a new baby can bring to the world, and how it can shape our own thoughts to be more positive and bright, is something I think we all need to realize more often in daily life.

But then...

Later that same day, as this new baby is coming into the world, my husband and I get a phone call.  Not a good one.  Another friend of ours had his life turned upside down.  His son, only 22 years old, his fourth child, was burned in a house fire earlier that morning and in critical condition.  That news will stop anyone in their tracks, and it certainly stopped my husband and me.  I don't even know our friend's son, never even met him.  But I know our friend and what an amazing man he is.  That alone made my heart sink, and fill with a deep, deep sadness for the unimaginable nightmare he was now living. 

I woke this morning to the news that our friend's son was probably not going to make it through the day.  I had been awake maybe 5 minutes and I was fully in tears.  Not for myself, but for our friend and his family.  I looked out the window to see it had rained.  It was dreary and cloudy.  The picture outside that window painted how I was feeling, and I assume how so many others were feeling, too.

Within the matter of a few hours, I get a text from my other friend which includes a picture of her new baby.  A simply adorable, precious face, so cute, so full of promise and potential.  Talk about the irony of life.  Here I am in one exact moment in time exhuberantly happy to see a new baby enter the world, and also completely heartbroken knowing that a young man is every second closer and closer to leaving the world entirely too soon.  

I went about my day feeling cloudy, and constantly wondering what was happening at the hospital.  My husband spent the day there to be with our friend, so I was getting updates periodically.  I tried to take my mind off of the situation by tackling my to-do list.  My self-directed big project of the day included going through old pictures, which coincidentally enough, were from when I was 22 years old.  As I looked back at my past, it brought back some of the best and happiest times of my life.  Yet as soon as I felt that, that wonderful feeling turned into a confused, sympathetic sadness.  Here are pictures of me at age 22, full of happiness and life, and now 16 years later, as I'm reflecting on how great it was to be that age, I get the notification that our friend's son had just lost his life. 

He was the same age as I was in the pictures I was staring at.  My mind started racing with thoughts of all this poor kid would now never get the chance to do, and experiences he wouldn't get to live.  So much promise and potential unfulfilled.  So many people now had a light taken from them, and were rocked to their core.  Their life has temporarily stopped, and the future seems unbearable and so far out of touch.  Rightfully so.  All the while in a different state, another friend of mine is rejoicing, and looking to the future with jubilance.  Rightfully so.

In the past two days, I have had countless reflective moments inspired by life's beginnings and it's endings.  All I can gather from these reflections is that life is more precious that I think most of us feel on a daily level.  Each and every person has impact, and we all enter and leave the world surrounded by tears and love.  And maybe we need to focus more on the love in between the beginnings and endings.

My most heartfelt love and support go out to our friends who are new parents, and to our friends who are grieving...   

A Little Gift with Big Meaning...

Well, true to my blog title, I've been thinking about it too much.  It, being this, my second post.  I gave myself a bit of a pat on the back for starting the blog, but then I got cold feet again.  I seem to always be thinking of topics to write about, and that is rather exhilarating!  Then I'll start drafting my posts as an internal dialogue, and before I can even get ideas down on paper or onto the computer, I start "grading" them with an imaginary red pen.  Then it dawns on my that I still have a lot to learn about blogging itself, and even with the simple set up of the page.  Those things together combine, and the result is me not posting.  SO, in trying to overcome my own obstacles, I'm just going to sit down here and GO with what is on my mind right now!

I'm the kind of person that when I find a gift that I really want to give to someone, or if I know I found something that the recipient will love, I can't wait to give it to them!  I have a tendency to give my husband gifts well before Christmas or our anniversary just because I'm so excited to give it to him.  It also doesn't help that he is rather difficult to buy for, and doesn't want or need much.  So when I come up with something good, I can't wait.  Tonight was one of those nights.

Some background to the story is necessary here.  My husband and I met in college when we both in the University of Minnesota Marching Band.  I was a flag, he was a trombone.  He was actually one of the very first people I met when I went off to school and started in band.  Anyway, he and some of our friends in the bone section had these little Legomen on their trombones.  You know, Legos from when we were kids, the little figures.  Why they did this, I have no clue (nor does my husband!).  It was just something silly and funny.  I remember I was given a Legoman by one of them, and I was the only non-trombone to get one.  Mine even had a flag in his hand.  I felt so cool.  Ha!  :)  Well, my then friend Alec, had a Lego pig he named Kool Mo Pig.  Kool Mo was well-known and you didn't mess with or dis the pig.  :)

(my flag Legoman!)

On a Gopher football gameday, we did a typical march around the outside of the Dome (the Minneapolis, Hubert H. Humphrey Metrodome).  No one seems to know why, but Kool Mo was getting tossed around the bone section.  (Yeah, not bright to begin with.)  And of course, what happened?  What you'd expect.  Someone in the section, who shall remain nameless, dropped Kool Mo.  To look for him would have meant stopping the whole marching band, and that would be like trying to stop a rushing herd.  It wasn't going to happen.  Kool Mo was gone.  Now keep in mind, this was the fall of 1994 I believe, and to this present day, Kool Mo, and the loss of him still gets talked about!  

For years I had told myself I'd search eBay and find Alec a replacement Kool Mo.  It was one of those passing monment thoughts.  I'd think it, and then forget it for a long time, or just put it off.  Just this week, I searched eBay, and found one!  I clicked the "buy it now" button without even batting an eye.  He arrived in the mail just two days ago, and I couldn't help but smile when I opened the envelope.  I set Kool Mo 2 aside and was going to decide later when to present him to Alec.  Maybe for Christmas, maybe for our upcoming anniversary, or maybe even at the start of the U's homecoming which is next week.  But Alec came home from work today kinda punchy, and he admitted he was feeling annoyed.  We talked throughout dinner and he was most annoyed at the fact he was annoyed and wasn't able to let it go.  I knew this was a perfect time to present Kool Mo 2.

I told him I had a little present for him, and he gave me this confused look and asked why.  I said that I had something I wanted to give him, and this might make him happy.  I asked him to sit on the couch, close his eyes and hold out his hand.  Now I have known Alec for 20 years, and I've given him a lot of gifts in that time.  But the smile on his face when I told him to open his eyes and he saw Kool Mo 2, was priceless!  I haven't seen that kind of smile on him in a long time.  You all know that smile.  The one of a simple, pure joy.  Not even giving him an F-150 would bring a smile like that.  That little plastic pig brings back so many great memories, but now it's more than just that.  It's what it symbolizes and represents - our college days, the best times of our lives, some easier, simpler, and dare I say, more fun times!      

So now, Kool Mo 2 can sit on a shelf in our family room with my Legoman, and in a small, childlike way, it's like all is right in our little the world again.  Alec has a little piece of his past back, and like I had hoped, his mood totally improved!

(Kool Mo 2!)

What little thing, or toy, would make you light up?  What little thing or toy would make someone you care about light up?  It's a fun thing to think about!  So I hope you do, and that you come up with your own Kool Mo 2 type of gift for someone in your life!  I think we all need something simple, and little to bring some joy into this crazy life.

I still haven't come up with a cool sign-off.  So in the meantime here, I'll say...

Until next time (and it won't take me as long as it did this time!)...

The Ultimate Inspiration

Here I am, blogging, after year of debating whether or not I should.  In my own typical fashion, I kept overthinking it.  "Am I cool enough to blog?"  "Will people want to read what I write?"  "Do I even have interesting things to write about?"  "Who are you kidding, no one really cares what you think about.... "  Those thoughts repeated over and over and over in my mind and made me stick with the indecision of, "Eh, I'll think about it later."  It is said that "the ultimate inspiration is the deadline".  From firsthand experience, I know that to be true.  But I also know that just as inspiring, is raw emotion. It makes us think, say, and do things we normally wouldn't on a daily basis.   

Well, yesterday was the decison maker on starting this blog.  The eleventh anniversary of September 11.  In 2001, that date of 9/11 became a date unlike any other, and one that always makes the nation, and me personally, pause and reflect.  I feel fortunate that I didn't know anyone on a plane that day, or anyone in the WTC or the Pentagon, so I still have a lot of separation from the rawness of that day.  But that doesn't mean it didn't, and doesn't impact me at my core.  I watch shows and seek out stories about 9/11 with such attention and focus that it surprises me.  I sit in awe, I cry, and my sympathy turns to empathy as I watch people choke up about their experiences.  The stories stick with me, and names of people I hear about I can recollect as freshly from my mind as if they are an old friend.  Why do I get so emotionally wrapped up in it?  Why do I take these things to heart so much, especially since I'm about as far removed as possible from them? 

Then last night, it dawned on me.  I was watching a show called, "The Falling Man".  It was about the search for the identity of the man in the infamous picture who jumped from one of the top floors of the World Trade Center.  The show was not so much about him, as about whether or not he should be identified so people would know his name and his life story, not just how his life ended.  The debate about it was very personal for everyone, and by everyone, I mean people who didn't even know him, or know he existed prior to that photograph.  Each opinion was said with such intensity, emotion, and heart, that it made me question whether or not he should be indentified, too.  Why is it important to know the identity of that man?  Or, why should he NOT be identified?  It makes everyone, I think, question themselves on the deepest level that we all fear going to, and ask, "What if that was me?  Would I want people to know it was me?"  (Not that this poor man had the choice.)

I found myself talking to my husband about it, and we went through the debate for ourselves.  The whys and the why nots.  One of the nots we talked of was mentioned in the show.  It was that in each war the U.S. has been in, there has been a tomb of "The Unknown Soldier".  It puts a faceless name on all of the souls that were never accounted for.  That in itself creates some separation for people.  But then, when a name is put to a face, the separation closes in or disappears entirely, and it resonates on the deepest, rawest level we have.  The loss becomes real, tangible, and it's harder to try and push aside.  It's a tough level to face, and one I think many of us will try to keep away from whenever possible.  As my husband and I spoke, we each came up with our own conclusion, which was that we didn't have an issue with someone wanting to find his identity.  I can understand people wanting to put a face and a name, and a life to a man that the world now knew in the seconds before his tragic death.  And on the flip side, I understand the people who think that his identity should remain a mystery.  There is no right or wrong answer here.  Just personal belief.  And that got me to thinking about it on yet a different level.

For over a year now, I have been doing a lot of self-reflection and soul searching - trying to figure out why I am the way I am, good and bad.  I've been searching for how I can change things about me I don't like, but that are part of my ingrained self.  It seems selfish sometimes, but I know it naturally encompasses the greater aspect of being here - purpose.   

I'm trying to discover my purpose.  Sometimes I feel like I'm the only one who thinks that deeply, or at least, that I'm one of the few who will actually talk about it.  But really, aren't we all looking for purpose and meaning?  At some point, don't we all ask with the utmost wonder, "What is the meaning of me being here?"  "What difference do I make?"  I ask myself those things all the time.  I want to know that I have impact in some positive way, I want to know my life matters, and that I matter to people.  Knowing that I feel that way makes it easier to answer the question, "What if that was me" in that photograph.  I know undoubtedly, that I would want people to know it was me.  If it didn't matter, that would mean I didn't matter.  And I want to matter and I want my life to have purpose.  I think we all do.  I like to think that "Falling Man" felt the same way.  I'll never know, but I will remember him as a man who loved and was loved, and had a life - not just a public death. 

So alas, my ultimate inspiration for FINALLY starting my blog was the stirred emotions I had last night as we all remembered the shock, sadness, tragedy, and yes, the heroism of that fateful September day.  I thought that maybe I'm not the only one who feels this way, and maybe by doing the blog, it would be a different way of connecting with people, as I search for meaning in life and of my life as I write posts. 

What about you? Do you think about your purpose, your lot in life? What inspires you to think of that, or what makes you run from thinking of it?

I really do want to know what you think.  It is my hope that through this blog, you will want to open up the conversation, maybe say, "I think that, too!" or bring other points of view into focus.  It's how we connect, learn, and accept one another.  Perhaps, this is how we, or I at least, find meaning.   

Until the next time I'm inspired, or overthinking...