Back from the abyss March 5, 2008

It’s been a long time since I’ve written, and my apologies to those (Mom) who regularly check. I’m sorry to have disappointed everyone, and I promise I’ll try better in the future to keep this more updated.

 Since I have last written, the following things have happened: Boppa passed away, the wedding got moved to September, and the wedding also got moved to Oklahoma. Of course, the second two were a result of the first.

 Now that you’re up to date..

There’s so much I want to say sometimes, and I just can’t quite get the words out. It’s not that I’m incapable of it–I know I can write as well as the next person. My problem is that I don’t know how much I truly want to share some of this, and I feel that a lot of it might come out a jumbled and confused. But oh well, I say. I’m just going to write. If it’s a mess, I won’t apologize. Call it ”raw writing” if you’d like.

Anyway, my life recently has been dominated by both Boppa’s death and the upcoming marriage, with the usual servings of job stress and other issues both good and bad on the side. Boppa passed on January 17th, and since then life has been a whirlwind. I’ve had good days and bad days in regards to my coping mechanisms, and I don’t doubt that I’ll continue to have both for a long, long time. The last two weeks for whatever reason have been particularly hard, and I’ve found myself struggling to come to terms with how my life has changed. Often, I’ve been finding myself having dreams that involve him, including one that I truly believe was him coming down to let me know he’s okay.

I think this all started two Sundays ago. Boppa always knew everything. Everything. And if maybe he didn’t in fact know everything, then he certainly fooled the world! But that was always one thing I truly adored about him: I could ask him so many random questions, and he always had an answer or at least an incredibly good guess. I used to store up questions in my head that I would then ask him at a later date. In early December as I was about to leave Oklahoma to visit him and Grandma, I realized I had one such question. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he would know the answer to it. Unfortunately, I forgot about asking the question during the visit and never had a chance to ask him and get the answer.

Well, on Sunday Jake and I were driving and we happened to go past the airport. It was when we were driving past that I realized that I still had this unanswered question, and I was devastated. It broke my heart, not so much because I won’t be able to find out the answer, but because I won’t be able to have the opportunity to ask him anything again. Time is up for this, at least until we meet again someday (and I probably won’t need him to answer questions then–in Heaven, I’m really hoping to discover where Hoffa is buried).

Since the incident that Sunday, I’ve had a few other flare-ups. I’ve gone to bed in tears more than a few times, I’ve had a few dreams (including the one I already mentioned), I’ve broken down in church at the word “grieve,” and I’ve found it incredibly hard to discuss my grandpa, where usually it’s not so hard to let people know that he passed away. I guess this is just one of those bumps in the road for me during my grieving process, but I can’t help it: I miss him so much it’s physically painful sometimes. Combine this with my typical allergies and recent cold, and I’m starting to think I should invest in some Puffs Facial Tissue stock.

Anyway, this whole thing has made planning a wedding very bittersweet. Sometimes I’m having fun dreaming up ideas for the wedding, but other times I just want to curl up into a ball and not do anything for it.

I guess that’s all I feel like writing for now. It’s so emotionally draining to think about all this sometimes, and writing isn’t much better right now. Again, I’ll try to do better and keep this more updated.

Trying to find some peace December 4, 2007

You know, every year I look forward to the holidays. There’s something about this time of year that feels magical to me: eating tons of fabulous food and not feeling at all guilty about it, shopping for the perfect presents, having an excuse to get gaudy with little colored lights, and celebrating traditions with family and friends. I’ve always been a fan of Thanksgiving and Christmas, but it seems this year it’s been tough getting it kicked off properly.

 Even though I know I need to be thankful for my blessings, I have to admit I feel a little bit cheated. This is my first holiday season with Jake, and considering his record of crappy Christmases, I’m trying to give him the best he’s ever had. I think I’m doing okay so far because I can tell how happy he is. I’m so happy with him as well, and when we’re together it’s an amazing feeling. Unfortunately there are so many other things that are making this difficult.

 The day before Thanksgiving a man named Ray died of a brain aneurysm while on the road between LA and Vegas. I neve knew him personally–he worked at the radio station, and moved to LA very shortly before I went to work at the station. Nevertheless, I had spoken to him on the phone once briefly, and he was more or less a legend up there. He was 49.

The day after Thanksgiving was another blow. Martha, a woman who had been coming up to The Jack and Ron Show for years, finally lost her fight with cancer. She’s battled acute leukemia for two years, and I know the end was rough. She too was 49-years-old, and left behind a husband and son. I went to the funeral, which was devastating. Martha was an incredible person who undoubtedly left a huge mark on humanity. She will be missed, and the saying “Only the good die young” was created just for her I think.

A day or so after that, the brother of a woman who does some screening coverage for myself and the other movie whores was shot to death. Based on the way the situation played out, there’s little doubt that this was not a random crime. My heart and prayers go out to Rocky and her family because I cannot imagine to lose someone so close and in such an awful way.

 That leads us up to today. I’m in Arizona visiting my grandparents (the explanation of this whole mess will follow), and Michelle called me on their home phone. This raises some alarms as she would only call me here if something of huge importance (or a massive problem) happened. Of course, some of it was work-related, but the other part of it was that Mark, a man I had worked with at the radio station, put a gun to his head this morning. I was stunned to say the least, and this has really bothered me quite a bit. While I never considered Mark to be the nicest man on the planet by any stretch of the imagination, I did have a good working relationship with him, which is more than a lot of people could say. I treated him with kindness, and even though it took a while, he eventually returned the favor with me. I appreciated that, and in many ways I’d like to think that he did too. To hear that he had chosen to die rather than suffer through a Monday morning was shocking, and I wish there could have been a way to prevent this.  It saddens me so much to know that a life was wasted today.

While these deaths are troubling, the other problem with the holidays this year is that cancer has taken a lot of joy from my family. My Boppa is still battling, and I admire him deeply for managing to stay strong through this ordeal he’s been put through. However, it breaks my heart at the same time. He’s always been such a strong person in my life (both mentally and physically), and to see him struggling to even stand up, let alone walk, is one of the hardest things I’ve ever experienced. I know the rest of the family feels the same way. It’s amazing the things I’ve always taken for granted, such as my grandpa being able to walk into a room. We went to a restaurant today, and one year ago I wouldn’t have thought anything of walking through the door with my grandparents. Today, I was wishing we had that simple thing back–not because I mind helping (I love helping), but because if we were able to waltz in there, then I would know that my Boppa wasn’t in the pain he’s in now.

I guess I should probably wrap this up. I needed to get some of that off my chest. It’s funny how things in the present make you remember small, once insignificant things in the past. I remember the last time I saw Martha. I ran into her by the milk in the back of Wal-Mart. It had been lovely to see her, and I’ll cherish that three minutes of my life that happened probably a year ago. The last time I saw Mark was just a few weeks ago outside the radio station. We didn’t say much aside from the usual pleasantries, but I remember him smiling. Even if it was just out of politeness, that’s something I’ll remember too.

 My apologies if I’m all over the place with this blog–I just needed to get this off my chest. Despite this all, I’m still going to work hard to give Jake the best Christmas he’s had. It’s the first of many, and I can’t wait to see where it all leads.

Saints and Wedding Days October 25, 2007

I went to a wedding between two acquaintances this past weekend. While I knew both the bride and groom through a mutual friend, I had never really spent any good quality time with them. But this mutual friend was a bridesmaid, and I ended up a guest at the nuptials (and yes, I did give a gift!). It was a pretty affair, and it was fun to get back into a Catholic church and sink myself into the familiarity of the whole thing. Jake and I have discussed going to church again, but as with most things people talk about we have not yet stepped foot into a sanctuary together. This ceremony was a bit of a kick in the pants for me in this regard. I was overly emotional throughout the whole service, and with present circumstances I don’t think it would be a bad idea to get a fire going under our butts and get ourselves to church!

Anyway, now that I’ve completely drifted in another direction than I intended, I want to steer myself back on course with what I meant to discuss in this blog. Last week I realized that I had absolutely no clue where the church was that I had to be at on Saturday. So I took a quick break from work, hopped on the internet, and a quick search led me right to the church’s website (which, thankfully, included “We are located at the intersection of ___ and ___.”). As I was browsing, I came across a link on their page talking about Saints and their days. I’ll be the first to admit that I had fun clicking around on this page, and with all this wedding stuff (the one I went to, plus the beginning planning of my own) floating around in my brain I wondered what Saint’s day I would be getting married on.

We’re tentatively planning to tie the knot on June 14, 2008. If we do, we’ll be marrying on Saint Methodius of Constantinople’s day. He died in 847 BC, started a monastery, and greatly opposed iconoclasts. Now if we choose to marry on June 15, 2008, we would be saying our vows on  the day of Saint Aleydis. After suffering from leprocy most of her life, she died in 1250.

So does it matter to anyone what Saint’s day it is when they marry? My parents married on the day of Saint Clare of Assisi, a close friend of Saint Francis of Assisi and the Patron Saint of Embroidery, among other things (Mom, you should take up embroidering! …hehe). My grandparents married on Saint Natalia’s day. Personally, for me it really doesn’t make a difference whose day it is. But to some it might, and I suppose I can understand that. But the Saints were all holy people, and that’s enough for me.

I think this blog might be turning into a marriage blog. Please bear with me because I don’t doubt there will be many more posts pertaining to it. But I promise to sprinkle tidbits of other things in between all this.

Life’s little mishaps September 12, 2007

Something strange happened to me today, and I found myself shocked and a little upset. With Boppa being in the hospital and everything that has gone on with my family, the fact that I got engaged on Saturday has not been at the forefront of my priority list. Am I happy about it? Thrilled. But is it the most important thing at this particular time? Definitely not because Boppa is the most important. There will come a time in the near future when this commitment finds itself at the top of my list, but for right now my mind is on things other than planning a wedding.

 Because of all this, I have not really had the time to update many of my friends on this exciting piece of news. Of course I told my family, but for the most part I have let others find out either from this blog or from Facebook, where you will notice my “relationship status” has changed to “engaged.” I figured there would be time to celebrate this with friends later as I begin to let everyone know on my own time. Unfortunately, this plan backfired today. In an e-mail to a friend, I briefly let her know the good news. She replied with a “Congratulations!” that was quickly followed with a somewhat sarcastic remark about how I told her five days after it happened and in an afterthought of an e-mail, no less. I understand how she might have felt hurt that I didn’t tell her sooner. But considering the circumstances that have been occurring, of which everyone important to me is well aware (including her as I consider her a very important part of my life!), I would like to think that people would understand if they don’t hear the news immediately.

 I pray everyone is considerate to the situation with my Boppa, and I promise you all that I don’t mean to hurt you in any way by not keeping you in the loop. Today’s mishap has deeply troubled me, and I’m really not sure what to think or how to react.

An Update on Life September 9, 2007

I’m in Phoenix right now. It’s funny–I was here just several short weeks ago, and even yesterday morning I had no clue that in less than 24 hours I’d wind up right back in the desert. It’s funny how things work out. Boppa is back in the hospital, which is the reason for my coming, and we’re really praying hard that we’ll be able to get him out soon.

Meanwhile, there has at least been one good distraction to all this mess! Yesterday, about six hours before I boarded the plane, Jake and I were laying in bed talking. It had been an awful day so far. I had to do work-related activities on a Saturday morning, I heard that Boppa was back in the hospital, and in my flustered state I locked my keys in the car for the first time in about three years.. while at a gas station.. and 30 minutes from home. Anyway, Jake had rescued me, and after we got home we went to make a valliant attempt at a nap. It didn’t happen for me though, as while we were having some pillow talk he said four little words that changed my life: “Will you marry me?” OF COURSE I said yes! And my ring is beautiful.

I’ll try to update as best I can in the next few days. Everyone hang in there.

A special thanks to you.. September 7, 2007

To everyone who has read the first two entries of this blog (mainly the second): Thank you! I am so grateful to know there are people like you all (or y’all as we say in these here parts) who care so deeply about my family and what Boppa has been going through. From talking to other members of the family and hearing from them, I know that it is the prayers and encouragement that keep us all afloat. We couldn’t do it without you! I feel so blessed to know that there are people out there who care about what others have to go through, and I thank God that He has given our family friends such as yourselves.

So here’s to you!

Boppa the Hero September 5, 2007

It has been a difficult and tumultuous last few months for my family. The most frustrating aspect of this is that the time has flown by, when for all intent and purpose I wish it would slow down.

A couple months ago–and I’ll save you all the details–we discovered my grandpa (aka Boppa) was suffering from sarcoma that had hit a particularly vital bone. While at no point did anyone even consider this situation to be a good one, we had a lot of hope at first that this was a small setback that could be corrected with the typical surgery followed by a few rounds of radiation. Wrong. Surgery was impossible, save for physically removing the bone and placing Boppa in a wheelchair for the remainder of his life. Other treatment options? We watched them fly out the window, one by one, day by day.

About three weeks ago we all were, agreeably, at our lowest point in the Hope Spectrum. But then something amazing happened: It seemed that the University of Washington had a new type of radiation, and it could be a good fit for Boppa’s condition! His doctors faxed his information to Seattle on a Friday, and then we had to wait for the call telling us whether or not this was something that could maybe happen. I happened to be visiting Grandma and Boppa a few days after this grain of possibility tumbled into our lives, and I got to experience with them the anxious waiting, the mind-numbing concentration as we silently (and in some cases, very verbally) willed the phone to ring, with the caller ID displaying the blessed number from Washington state. There was that initial jump followed by a tense silence that followed each ring of the phone, and the strong desire to kick something whenever the caller ID told us it was someone else. But, with all things we wait impatiently for, this too eventually did happen (and on my birthday, no less)! Of course, Boppa was outside when the event occurred and we had to scurry around the place trying to find him. He finally came in, and while he and Grandma disappeared into the study Jake and I rocked back and forth, holding our breaths, our minds screaming silent last-minute prayers to God to please make Boppa Seattle-bound.

An eternity (or two minutes) later, Grandma came out of the study and told us the verdict: They would fly out to Seattle in several days. The announcement stunned us–could it finally have happened that we received good news? Grandma and I hugged, and the waterworks came with a vengeance! I called Mom with the good news, and I think she spent a good half the day crying too. We celebrated that night and enjoyed the feeling of a large anvil being lifted from our backs and minds.

To me, the simple name “Seattle” has now embodied my dreams and my prayers for a miracle, or at least continued good news. Unfortunately, our path to the mecca of healing has been slow-going. Pain, despite not being the “official” problem, has hindered Boppa from the start. I’m not with him and Grandma right now (thanks real life, real job, real world..), but how I wish I were! We all wish we were there to try in our own ways to add some kind of comfort to the situation. I know each day brings more and more pain to Boppa while we wait for treatments to start next week, and it breaks my heart a little bit every time I think about it. Boppa has always been a rock in my life, a brave man who provided well for his family. My family is one full of love, and Boppa is its heart. I can remember being a small child and being asked to draw my daddy in preschool and elementary school. Not having a daddy at that time (in fact, I didn’t get an “official” daddy until I was of the legal age), I always drew my Boppa instead. I remember drawing a picture of him in his workshop in his basement, where he always seemed at home. I  also remember drawing him on a big green blob that was supposed to be a golf course (I’ve never been the most artistic person in the world, so sue me). Again, he always seemed more at home than ever on big green blobs.

Boppa, get back to that big green blob. It’s where you belong.

My hero is a good man, and when I graduated from college he gave me the best advice anyone has ever offered: “If you think you’re having a bad day today, just remember that one year from now you’ll be even more stressed out, and you won’t remember what you were stressing about today.” So true. My hero is Boppa.

Prayers, please for my Boppa. And prayers that Seattle can get Boppa back to his big green blob.