Who wouldn't love an icy cold, sweet snowcone on a warm spring/summer evening? Perhaps you're one of those people who couldn't care less. I could name a few who don't, but snowcones are one of my favorite treats, especially shaved ice, but the icy ones will do. The only person I know who tops my love of the snowcone is guess who? My sister Chrissy was the queen of snowcones, particularly shaved ice. We would plan day events around the opening of the snowcone stand. We've traveled miles just to get a crunch on those sweet nostalgic memories. There's the snowcone stand in Eureka and another in Manchester, and on any given summer day, she would call and say, "Are you up for a snowcone run?". Their hours were scattered, but we were troopers who were on a mission. Recently, a new place opened near our house that serves carnival foods.......corn dogs, cotton candy; thus the sacred snowcone is served, too. I haven't gone there yet, but it's on my to-do list this summer. You wouldn't think there was a story about this simple treat; yet, the evening on May 25th, the day after her birthday, there's a story to be told. A smile it put on my face as the events unfolded.
Summer is popping at the seams at my house. We've already had our evenings of water fun in the neighborhood, letting the kids stay up a little bit longer with a few days left of school. Last night, the kids and I went outside. Luke was riding our wagon down the hill, steering it into the woods as I prayed to God we would not be doing an Urgent Care visit. The neighbor girls were playing with Faith on the swing when the question was asked, "Mom, can we get out the water guns??" What mom could say no to that on a perfect warm evening.....swimsuits were optional........and the fun began. As they ran around the houses screaming with fright, loving every minute of the person who would spring around the corner; I was weeding the garden and the flower beds. A few annuals were left to plant, and they were planted in the rest of the flower pots. In the distance, I could hear what sounded like Caribbean style music which reminded me of our trips to Gulf Shores. There was a restaurant called LuLu's (Jimmy Buffet's sister owns the place) that had this marine, island-like atmosphere. As I turned around, I could see this colorful, icecream truck looking vehicle approaching our cul-de-sac with music blaring from it's windows. You could see all the kids stop in their tracks, and before I knew it, Faith was at my side asking, "Oh, mommy, the icecream truck, could we pleasssssssse have one????"
Well, I am a mom who watches her pennies so my initial reaction was, "No, not tonight." My kids are not at all deprived of any sweets and/or icecream. It is a staple in our household, but we go for Dairy Queen or Silky's icecream and even Edy's from the grocery store. As this truck rounded the corner, though, it was different than the normal ringing of the icecream truck. You remember that familiar bell sound driving around your neighborhoods as kids, feeling the anticipation of a cold, sweet treat? The tropical music was grasping my atttention, and to my surprise I saw photos of SNOWCONES on the side of his truck! Yes, I said snowcones! Before I knew it, I was yelling, "STOP!!!!" Faith screamed because it isn't often that I treat them to the truck of cold treats. He rounded the corner giving me the "okay wave" and I dashed to the vehicle while yelling to Marty to grab some cash. I was a mom on a mission who wasn't going to be stopped.
The guy behind the wheel was an older gentleman with a friendly grin on his face, and the first words out of my mouth to him were, "Do you know how long I've been waiting for this?" He giggled and we talked about how he came to own this business just a few months ago, usually staking his spot at special events, school carnivals, festivals and parks. For this evening, though, he decided to take the truck out and visit some neighborhoods, wondering who might want a cold treat. We talked back and forth about what was a good time for this neighborhood crowd and where he would be spending most of his time. It just so happened that pool we joined for the summer will be one of his spots.....Bluebird Park. Could this get any better? As I looked at the side of his truck at all the enticing colors and flavors; I was even more astonished at how reasonable his snowcones were priced. I was ready to buy for all the kids in the neighborhood, but then I took a deep breath and brought myself back to reality. I ordered snowcones for my kids and told him the flavors, and he pointed to the outside of the truck by saying: "I can put on the flavors for you or you can do it yourself." As I looked farther down the end of the truck, there were about 10 spickets with various flavors. Was I dreaming? Will someone please wake me up! Not only is there a snowcone truck, along with icecream bars at the end of my driveway, but I am able to control the amount of juice that is poured upon the ice? I think I must have chuckled and then I passed the snowcone to my children, and of course, they were delighted. How much fun is that to be able to control the amount and type of flavor. As I passed over the cash, he asked, "Well aren't you getting one?" I had to reply that I had my fix today by getting a slushy from the DQ earlier in the day. I think I expressed my gratitude in volumes, and with a wave and a smile, he drove away with the music fading in the distance.
We all stood around with disbelief and smiles on our faces like finding an oasis in the desert. I couldn't help but think of my sister's part in this event. The day before I could only think of my grief, but today was a new day, a day of pleasant surprises, a day of nostalgia eating our snowcones. Who would have thought it...snowcones arriving right at my doorstep?
"Joy is what happens when we allow ourselves to recognize how good things really are"
By Marianne Williamson
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Monday, May 24, 2010
Her Birthday
It's so difficult to wait for arrivals, destinations and answers. Today, flowers in our front yard bloomed in full.......we were waiting and wondering if they were ever going to show their beautiful colors. Only yesterday, Eric and I were talking whether or not it would happen because it seemed like in years past, they had bloomed much earlier. Perhaps the rains and cold weather from last week kept them at bay.....only God knows. Today is my sister's birthday. What a gift it was when I pulled out of my driveway to bring Faith to school, and there they were, gorgeous yellows and purples opening their buds, showing new life, new hope. This year, there will be all sorts of firsts, new beginnings without Chrissy's physical presence. Our first Christmas......Valentine's Day......Mother's Day........ their wedding anniversary.....the family BBQ's and birthdays.......Frankie and Maria's days of firsts...........and today......her birthday. She would have been forty-two......forty-two.......it doesn't seem real, but it is. So young, so very young from where I see it. So much to live for, but it was not meant to be. This day she shares her birthday with her soul sister, Shelly, her May 24th twin. Her childhood buddy, Shelly, has walked this journey with her, without a blink of an eye, staying the course and is still here walking the journey with us. This day I know we are all aching and grieving for her presence.....if only to say one more time how much we love her. That is always a wish, to see their face, hear their voice, embrace their bodies one more time. Even once we get through the firsts, there are always the seconds and thirds and so forth. The ache in your gut doesn't change, but at some point you realize you can tolerate the ache. We don't always want to because something in our hearts tell us that if we can tolerate it, live through it; then we somehow don't feel the pain anymore, but we do. If we get through this day, does that mean we don't miss her anymore? We are learning to live the new way, the new life, not always liking it or accepting it, but somehow we will. We will make it, but in disbelief, sometimes with sorrowful tears, awkwardness, and also envy of others who still have their own. Laughter will happen........yes, there is laughter, but the ache is always there. One day, we might laugh on this day, her birthday, one day we will. There exists this troublesome feeling that no one talks about....it's present....we all know it, but we try to move through the motions, make new memories, if not for ourselves, for her kids....for our kids. Allowing them to feel joy and hope for all of life's splendors; we have to make that real for them. They have a long life ahead of them with joys and disappointments, and these firsts hit us all hard, especially her kids. They are resiliant, but they have a heart and a mind and a gut, just as we do. Whether they express it right now or not, they feel the deep sadness, and it is us who must get them through it.
For me, getting through it this weekend meant that we were able to plant our vegetable garden, doing some much needed yard work, after all the St. Louis rain. The time seemed right, planting seeds, not sure what will sprout, but we try. Beginning new life after the dead of winter, the death of our sister, spring is inevitable, and now it's time. Yesterday as I rambled about the house and our yard, seeing what needs to be finished next, I noticed it. It was the "garden" sign that we have put in our vegetable garden these past few years which had been given to me by my sissy. I was holding up okay so far, not sure what I had planned for the day of her birthday, to honor her, celebrate her.....whatever it is that you are supposed to do. As Marty and I were winding down for the evening, relaxing on our backyard hill, ("hiding" from our kids) only then did it catch my eye......the garden sign she had given to us a few years back. The colors were fading with a bit of rust, but it would be a permanent fixture in our garden of new life. That ache that I was feeling was now more profound as ever. Whatever Marty said in the next few minutes went right passed me. My mind wandered in that moment as it became so evident, yet again, that she was not here. I know she's here in spirit, but her physical presence was not here....and that is so painfully present in each day that I wake up.
As May approached, normally I would be planning the birthday week geared towards Chrissy, as we joked so often, her birthday lingered on for weeks. There was usually the date out with Frank and/or friends, the family birthday dinner for mom and the kids, and perhaps a fun night out with the siblings and sometimes a lunch with just the two of us. It went on and on and on...................the rest of the family would back me up on that one, the birthday celebrations for Chrissy generally lasted a week or so. In fact, only two years ago we celebrated her 40th birthday on a night which was more than a birthday celebration.
Along with her 40th birthday back in 2008, we also celebrated a pivotal cancer-free zone for her, rather cancer remission. Anyone who knows the cancer journey realizes that you are never cancer free at a certain stage, but there is remission within the five year range. Always hoping for a full recovery beyond that time. This was a day for hope and partying for more reasons than one, as she made the announcement. As she gathered the sisters into the public restroom of this Mediterranean style restaurant; we hustled into the public bathroom because she wanted to share something with us. My initial thought was that she had found another lump and wanted to show us, but as she pulled the rear of her pants down to her lower hip level with a grin on her face, I thought, "Oh no, here we go again, am I going to be forced to show my stuff again?? Remember the hospital incident with the breasts? (If not, read back on my blog and find "Which Ones Do I Want?" There it was, in plain sight for all to see located on her lower hip/buttocks area, was the pink ribbon tattoo that symbolizes breast cancer. I was in utter shock. How could she follow through with this when she had such a fear of needles??? I think the only words that came out of my mouth were, "Wow, WOW, I can't believe it!" As we all stared at the pink ribbon that she was so proud of, I couldn't help but be proud of her. She had overcome so many obstacles up to that point, physically and emotionally, how perfect was that to say to herself, "I have overcome...I have won, and I am not afraid of anything!"
On this bittersweet day, filled with so many perfect memories, I am constantly reminded of everything my sister gave me. Our house is filled with tangible items that remind me of her: the photographs, the niknaks, the cards and emails, items of clothing, toys given to my kids by her and even a crucifix she gave my Faith for her Baptism. Feeling the awkardness and the gutwrenching emotions of the loss of my sister; thinking of that dark-haired, red-skinned baby back in May of "68, lying in a little sweet bassonet, I see the crucifix hanging in my daughter's room. It is a beautiful black-wired metal frame crucifix with ivy and flowers intertwined which reminds me of not only her death, but of her new life. With all the whirlwind of emotions, I must remember her purpose, her new life.....a life she now lives with our Creator and the rest of my family who have passed on. Her birthday carries on a whole new meaning. Would I rather have her here celebrating with me.....without a doubt. Does she deserve all the happiness that goes beyond our thinking? Absolutely. I'm not sure what lies ahead on this day; I'm only taking in the moment. So on this day, my friend, with you still at my side, in a different form, Happy Birthday my sister friend.........Happy Birthday. :0) XXO
"I miss her more now than the day she passed on to her new life."
For me, getting through it this weekend meant that we were able to plant our vegetable garden, doing some much needed yard work, after all the St. Louis rain. The time seemed right, planting seeds, not sure what will sprout, but we try. Beginning new life after the dead of winter, the death of our sister, spring is inevitable, and now it's time. Yesterday as I rambled about the house and our yard, seeing what needs to be finished next, I noticed it. It was the "garden" sign that we have put in our vegetable garden these past few years which had been given to me by my sissy. I was holding up okay so far, not sure what I had planned for the day of her birthday, to honor her, celebrate her.....whatever it is that you are supposed to do. As Marty and I were winding down for the evening, relaxing on our backyard hill, ("hiding" from our kids) only then did it catch my eye......the garden sign she had given to us a few years back. The colors were fading with a bit of rust, but it would be a permanent fixture in our garden of new life. That ache that I was feeling was now more profound as ever. Whatever Marty said in the next few minutes went right passed me. My mind wandered in that moment as it became so evident, yet again, that she was not here. I know she's here in spirit, but her physical presence was not here....and that is so painfully present in each day that I wake up.
As May approached, normally I would be planning the birthday week geared towards Chrissy, as we joked so often, her birthday lingered on for weeks. There was usually the date out with Frank and/or friends, the family birthday dinner for mom and the kids, and perhaps a fun night out with the siblings and sometimes a lunch with just the two of us. It went on and on and on...................the rest of the family would back me up on that one, the birthday celebrations for Chrissy generally lasted a week or so. In fact, only two years ago we celebrated her 40th birthday on a night which was more than a birthday celebration.
Along with her 40th birthday back in 2008, we also celebrated a pivotal cancer-free zone for her, rather cancer remission. Anyone who knows the cancer journey realizes that you are never cancer free at a certain stage, but there is remission within the five year range. Always hoping for a full recovery beyond that time. This was a day for hope and partying for more reasons than one, as she made the announcement. As she gathered the sisters into the public restroom of this Mediterranean style restaurant; we hustled into the public bathroom because she wanted to share something with us. My initial thought was that she had found another lump and wanted to show us, but as she pulled the rear of her pants down to her lower hip level with a grin on her face, I thought, "Oh no, here we go again, am I going to be forced to show my stuff again?? Remember the hospital incident with the breasts? (If not, read back on my blog and find "Which Ones Do I Want?" There it was, in plain sight for all to see located on her lower hip/buttocks area, was the pink ribbon tattoo that symbolizes breast cancer. I was in utter shock. How could she follow through with this when she had such a fear of needles??? I think the only words that came out of my mouth were, "Wow, WOW, I can't believe it!" As we all stared at the pink ribbon that she was so proud of, I couldn't help but be proud of her. She had overcome so many obstacles up to that point, physically and emotionally, how perfect was that to say to herself, "I have overcome...I have won, and I am not afraid of anything!"
On this bittersweet day, filled with so many perfect memories, I am constantly reminded of everything my sister gave me. Our house is filled with tangible items that remind me of her: the photographs, the niknaks, the cards and emails, items of clothing, toys given to my kids by her and even a crucifix she gave my Faith for her Baptism. Feeling the awkardness and the gutwrenching emotions of the loss of my sister; thinking of that dark-haired, red-skinned baby back in May of "68, lying in a little sweet bassonet, I see the crucifix hanging in my daughter's room. It is a beautiful black-wired metal frame crucifix with ivy and flowers intertwined which reminds me of not only her death, but of her new life. With all the whirlwind of emotions, I must remember her purpose, her new life.....a life she now lives with our Creator and the rest of my family who have passed on. Her birthday carries on a whole new meaning. Would I rather have her here celebrating with me.....without a doubt. Does she deserve all the happiness that goes beyond our thinking? Absolutely. I'm not sure what lies ahead on this day; I'm only taking in the moment. So on this day, my friend, with you still at my side, in a different form, Happy Birthday my sister friend.........Happy Birthday. :0) XXO
"I miss her more now than the day she passed on to her new life."
Saturday, May 22, 2010
The Awakening
Are you present, are you really here, in the moment, knowing what's really happening? What will it take to see what is real, what is important, and what is a priority in your own life? Does someone need to die or be terminally ill for your behavior to change, to see what is a priority? Even then, behaviors don't always change because we don't consider the underlying problems....our demons. The true problem could be an addiction or a serious character flaw that we don't want to face. For instance, when you look at the alcoholic, they see only what is being done to them...thus there is paranoia.....blame.....confusion....forgetfulness and hurt in their relationships. If their own life is in disaray, how can any relationship take place? How can communication occur? How does our purpose hold true? It happens all the time.....the disfunction in families. Some choose to recognize it and deal with it; while others avoid it.
I wonder what God thinks of all this? I am in awe of His unconditional love and perpetual forgiveness. Witnessing what I do in society and seeing the constant errors we make, the mean actions that come forth in people; I am in utter amazement how God can still love us. I suppose that is why He is God and we are who we are......... human beings. I think of what His son experienced during the agony of his crucifixion, with the angry crowds, the spitting, the laughing, the ridiculing, the denying and the physical torment they inflicted on the person who was here to save us......to save us from ourselves.
If God continually forgives us, that is if our hearts are truly sorry, then why is it so difficult for us to forgive each other? Perhaps it is a repetitive wrong doing, and a lack of being sorry for our actions. No "I'm sorry" is said, and we get busy and we think only of our hurt......not the ones we are hurting. Maybe we get tired of forgiving the same behavior. Recently I've heard it said that it takes two.......two to make the wrong. Maybe we react back and forth to the hurt, and it grows and grows until it seems there is no going back. In the situation of physical or emotional abuse, though, I don't believe it takes two, especially for child abuse. They are the victims of this cruel behavior, and maybe in the hurt, a great lesson will be learned.......how not to be or how to persevere with strength.
Are we present in our our own lives? Are we emotionally open and willing to change ourselves, even at the expense of disconnecting from those toxic relationships? So many are not willing, and they continue to live in the mess, missing so many opportunities. Are you here? Are you mentally and emotionally here in the moment with your heart and soul, trying to make life a better place or are you moving in the busyness of your own life thinking you're accomplishing something? Take a closer look, and see what you are creating in your own world. Are you creating positive space for your loved ones or are you sucking the living energy out of them, creating a negative journey, not only for yourself but for them?
In an awakening, one realizes that they can accomplish so much more, with God's guidance. You don't have to be restricted by negative energy, lack of confidence. It may not always be the popular decision and it could bring about emotional pain, but we need to face the pain in order to see the light. That's the awakening. Perhaps we can let go of toxic relationships and negative energy and move forth, trying to live how God wants us to live. Sometimes, that means separating from our loved ones. You can love someone, but you don't always have to like the ones you love. Again, I ask you, are you present, are you here? Take a closer look.
"Who cares if you're enlightened forever? Can you just get it in this moment, now?"
- Bryon Katie
I wonder what God thinks of all this? I am in awe of His unconditional love and perpetual forgiveness. Witnessing what I do in society and seeing the constant errors we make, the mean actions that come forth in people; I am in utter amazement how God can still love us. I suppose that is why He is God and we are who we are......... human beings. I think of what His son experienced during the agony of his crucifixion, with the angry crowds, the spitting, the laughing, the ridiculing, the denying and the physical torment they inflicted on the person who was here to save us......to save us from ourselves.
If God continually forgives us, that is if our hearts are truly sorry, then why is it so difficult for us to forgive each other? Perhaps it is a repetitive wrong doing, and a lack of being sorry for our actions. No "I'm sorry" is said, and we get busy and we think only of our hurt......not the ones we are hurting. Maybe we get tired of forgiving the same behavior. Recently I've heard it said that it takes two.......two to make the wrong. Maybe we react back and forth to the hurt, and it grows and grows until it seems there is no going back. In the situation of physical or emotional abuse, though, I don't believe it takes two, especially for child abuse. They are the victims of this cruel behavior, and maybe in the hurt, a great lesson will be learned.......how not to be or how to persevere with strength.
Are we present in our our own lives? Are we emotionally open and willing to change ourselves, even at the expense of disconnecting from those toxic relationships? So many are not willing, and they continue to live in the mess, missing so many opportunities. Are you here? Are you mentally and emotionally here in the moment with your heart and soul, trying to make life a better place or are you moving in the busyness of your own life thinking you're accomplishing something? Take a closer look, and see what you are creating in your own world. Are you creating positive space for your loved ones or are you sucking the living energy out of them, creating a negative journey, not only for yourself but for them?
In an awakening, one realizes that they can accomplish so much more, with God's guidance. You don't have to be restricted by negative energy, lack of confidence. It may not always be the popular decision and it could bring about emotional pain, but we need to face the pain in order to see the light. That's the awakening. Perhaps we can let go of toxic relationships and negative energy and move forth, trying to live how God wants us to live. Sometimes, that means separating from our loved ones. You can love someone, but you don't always have to like the ones you love. Again, I ask you, are you present, are you here? Take a closer look.
"Who cares if you're enlightened forever? Can you just get it in this moment, now?"
- Bryon Katie
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
There's a Time to Laugh
On May 18th of 1991, my little sister,Chrissy, got married to Frank. The two of them would have had 19 years of marriage together under their belts if she were still alive today......actually more years of being together since they met when she was only 15 years old. The old saying goes, "How time flies", and I used to think it was only said by those who were much older. Here I am, saying it to myself, wishing we had more time together, but that was not meant to be. In grief, we always want more time. It is what it is. There are other plans bigger than two sisters who would have wanted to grow old together, larger than two people in love who wanted to watch their kids learn and enjoy life, and greater than two young children who would have loved to have their mother here, attending their school functions, watching movies together, eating dinner as a family and so much more. As I've matured into my 40's, I don't look at myself as an older person, but I guess someone in their 20's might look at me as old. It seems like yesterday that we were sitting in our livingroom on Durness. She was adorned in her beautiful wedding dress, the bridemaids in our peach dresses and"80's" hair....the fuller the hair.....the better, and the day was beautiful. 1991 was a year of weddings for our family as Chrissy married in May, I married in August, Deni in September and my friend, Buffy, married in October. I don't know how it all happened, but perhaps it was the trickle down effect of one couple seeing the next being engaged and so on. It was a lean year financially, but we pulled it off, didn't we.
Yesterday, I thought of my sister as I usually do, but Frank was weighing heavy on my mind, thinking of what he might be feeling on this day. Of course, he was probably reminiscing like the rest of us, but this was his true love, the one he had hoped to grow old with, and that was not meant to be. Perhaps thoughts of his engagement, their dating years, the wedding itself, and how blessed he had been to know her....be with her....or wishing there would have been more time together. I couldn't say what was permeating his thoughts, but I could only imagine. As a few of us gathered to be with him......not quite sure of what I could say or not say that would make a difference......the night began to a sort of roast to a sister, a wife, a friend. As we talked of the Meyer traits and who our family is, it led to Chrissy's mannerisms, her stance, her look, and even her stomp. Yes, I had forgotten the infamous stomp. When Chrissy would get frustrated, she would have a booming stomp. It was Frank who asked where had she gotten that stomp from, but it was her own, and it made us all crack up as Frank imitated her. Her stomp would vibrate the whole house, and anyone hearing it would have thought something huge had just fallen on the floor. We talked of how we terrorized each other, how I tortured her with hiding and scaring her.......and now we frighten our own kids with the same practical jokes and scare tactics. How is it that I wonder why they can't fall asleep at night? I will even go so far to say that I was a culprit of the spitting game. I'm keeping it real, and as much as I refrain from actually spitting, and I abhore the crudeness of any woman or man spitting(sorry for the spitters out there; it's just one of my pet peaves).....I terrorized my sister when we were younger by holding her down, and pretending that I would let the drip of spit fall on her face. Of course, we were laughing as well as yelling in this Meyer game. If she was lucky, the spit did not fall, but sometimes one got loose. I'm sorry to say that I was involved in this activity, but that game was also forced on me by my brother and so it goes up in the chain of command with siblings. We also talked of the 80's hair and how cool we thought we looked with the puffiness of "the feather" and the hair spray that was so firm; you could break a stick over our heads. Our husbands would hesitantly accept our hair styles; we knew we were cool, but they hadn't caught up with what was IN STYLE at the time. We talked of our cars and the pennies we would pinch and pretending to have, when we didn't have. Chrissy would be riding in Frank's Nova or Chevelle, which wasn't in the best of shape....with the lining in the car that would be borderline disturbing; yet, they rode through Ladue, Chrissy's right foot dangling outside of the car window, pretending she was a potential buyer for the exquisite homes. You have to laugh. Frank went on to tell of how he proposed to Chrissy some 20 years ago. Making arrangements for his mom to have a night of bingo so that he could propose, setting the table with one of Chrissy's favorite meals.....Red Lobster......buying only the best of champagnes, presenting the engagement ring in front of the selections of her favorite foods. Awaiting to hear her surprise, cries of unexpected joy, loving words to be said to him. As Chrissy entered the room, she jumped up with excitement, Frank feeling her love and anticipating her reciprocal expressions of love. He was awaiting those beautiful words of "Gosh, you want to marry me?" or "I love you" or "I will!". The words that passed Chrissy's mouth were classic because it showed where her priorities were, as we all know. As she entered the room, the words that passed her lips were, "You got me Red Lobster!!!"
There's a time to laugh.....and that we did....for the very first time since her death.....I allowed myself a good belly laugh. I couldn't have expected that would happen for what I know this day meant, but in grief, there is a time to laugh. There are no rules or expectations....it is still awkward and painful....but for this night with a friend, a husband and sisters.....we were able to laugh.
"Only our great God can reach down into what otherwise would be brokenness and produce something beautiful. With him, nothing is wasted. Every broken dream and heart that hurts can be redeemed by his loving, warm touch. Your life may be shattered by sorrow, pain or sin, but God has in mind a kaleidoscope through which his light can shine more brilliantly."
- Joni Eareckson Tada
Yesterday, I thought of my sister as I usually do, but Frank was weighing heavy on my mind, thinking of what he might be feeling on this day. Of course, he was probably reminiscing like the rest of us, but this was his true love, the one he had hoped to grow old with, and that was not meant to be. Perhaps thoughts of his engagement, their dating years, the wedding itself, and how blessed he had been to know her....be with her....or wishing there would have been more time together. I couldn't say what was permeating his thoughts, but I could only imagine. As a few of us gathered to be with him......not quite sure of what I could say or not say that would make a difference......the night began to a sort of roast to a sister, a wife, a friend. As we talked of the Meyer traits and who our family is, it led to Chrissy's mannerisms, her stance, her look, and even her stomp. Yes, I had forgotten the infamous stomp. When Chrissy would get frustrated, she would have a booming stomp. It was Frank who asked where had she gotten that stomp from, but it was her own, and it made us all crack up as Frank imitated her. Her stomp would vibrate the whole house, and anyone hearing it would have thought something huge had just fallen on the floor. We talked of how we terrorized each other, how I tortured her with hiding and scaring her.......and now we frighten our own kids with the same practical jokes and scare tactics. How is it that I wonder why they can't fall asleep at night? I will even go so far to say that I was a culprit of the spitting game. I'm keeping it real, and as much as I refrain from actually spitting, and I abhore the crudeness of any woman or man spitting(sorry for the spitters out there; it's just one of my pet peaves).....I terrorized my sister when we were younger by holding her down, and pretending that I would let the drip of spit fall on her face. Of course, we were laughing as well as yelling in this Meyer game. If she was lucky, the spit did not fall, but sometimes one got loose. I'm sorry to say that I was involved in this activity, but that game was also forced on me by my brother and so it goes up in the chain of command with siblings. We also talked of the 80's hair and how cool we thought we looked with the puffiness of "the feather" and the hair spray that was so firm; you could break a stick over our heads. Our husbands would hesitantly accept our hair styles; we knew we were cool, but they hadn't caught up with what was IN STYLE at the time. We talked of our cars and the pennies we would pinch and pretending to have, when we didn't have. Chrissy would be riding in Frank's Nova or Chevelle, which wasn't in the best of shape....with the lining in the car that would be borderline disturbing; yet, they rode through Ladue, Chrissy's right foot dangling outside of the car window, pretending she was a potential buyer for the exquisite homes. You have to laugh. Frank went on to tell of how he proposed to Chrissy some 20 years ago. Making arrangements for his mom to have a night of bingo so that he could propose, setting the table with one of Chrissy's favorite meals.....Red Lobster......buying only the best of champagnes, presenting the engagement ring in front of the selections of her favorite foods. Awaiting to hear her surprise, cries of unexpected joy, loving words to be said to him. As Chrissy entered the room, she jumped up with excitement, Frank feeling her love and anticipating her reciprocal expressions of love. He was awaiting those beautiful words of "Gosh, you want to marry me?" or "I love you" or "I will!". The words that passed Chrissy's mouth were classic because it showed where her priorities were, as we all know. As she entered the room, the words that passed her lips were, "You got me Red Lobster!!!"
There's a time to laugh.....and that we did....for the very first time since her death.....I allowed myself a good belly laugh. I couldn't have expected that would happen for what I know this day meant, but in grief, there is a time to laugh. There are no rules or expectations....it is still awkward and painful....but for this night with a friend, a husband and sisters.....we were able to laugh.
"Only our great God can reach down into what otherwise would be brokenness and produce something beautiful. With him, nothing is wasted. Every broken dream and heart that hurts can be redeemed by his loving, warm touch. Your life may be shattered by sorrow, pain or sin, but God has in mind a kaleidoscope through which his light can shine more brilliantly."
- Joni Eareckson Tada
Saturday, May 15, 2010
My Sister's Keeper
I faced a daunting task that I had been avoiding, as before I wasn't emotionally ready, but last night, I decided it was time. For me, I have to face the darkness in order to see the light. As part of this soulful growth, I have heard and learned that it needs to be done. I watched the movie, "My Sister's Keeper," in the privacy of my own home.....alone in my bedroom. It may seem a trivial task to watch a fictional movie, but it was an emotional one for me because the storyline was so real. The difficult choices, the family dynamics and emotions, the physical pain are all very real with cancer. Marty knew it would be a tear jerker, and carefully I asked if he would like to join me. Ultimately, I wanted to watch this on my own, and I think he was relieved and sensed that I did. It's not the sort of movie he would have liked anyway. So the tearful evening began, and it's okay, because in tears, healing begins.
While Chrissy was still in her physical form here, living amongst us in her body, she had wanted me to see it with her. It seemed intriguing, but from the advertisements, I knew it would be too emotional. Sitting there in the theater beside my sister, knowing her thoughts and my thoughts traveling a similiar path as the sisters up on the screeen. Like Chrissy, the cancer patient, Kate, was growing weary of the treatments, the experimental drugs, the lack of energy, the avoidance of the inevitable. I said that I would do anything for her......even run down the highway naked, anything, but I could not sit in a movie theater with her, and watch a movie of two sisters who were similiar to Chrissy and me. Although the facts of the movie were different, the age of the patient, the type of cancer and circumstances were different, the emotional questions and challenges, watching someone you love die of an illness that literally takes away all your faculties was still the same.
There's no avoiding it.....it just IS.......we are all destined to die. The life lesson here is what do we do inbetween that time of birth and death. What will we learn before our bodies perish? What are we meant to accomplish during our earthly time in these bodies of ours? Often times, tough lessons in life prepare us for the next step, the next challenge. Perhaps the illness of one family member could prepare us to care for another family member or friend. I did not donate my body parts to Chrissy, as Anna did for her sister, Kate, but I was prepared to do so if needed. While you are caring for a terminally ill loved one, you go into worker mode, and I would have given her anything, as would my other sisters, to give her a longer, more productive life. I related to Anna, as she moved forward with a sense of strength around her family and sister, devastated by the physical pain Kate was experiencing but also realizing her role in this cancer walk.....not always understanding or accepting, but there is a KNOWING that we come to learn having a loved one suffer through a fatal illness. There is a blessing in knowing.......and if I had the choice, I would want to know rather than experience death of a loved one suddenly. In knowing, you have the option to do or say whatever needs to be done. Unfortunately for some, they deny and never say or do........and that generally leads to a wreckless or painful life of what ifs and shouldas.
I wouldn't have chosen this life of being diagnosed with breast cancer for my sister or anyone else. No one would want this cross to bear. Perhaps and most likely this cancer journey will surface again to someone I love or perhaps my own self. With a painstaking love for my sister, I can say I was honored to be her keeper in whatever way she needed. I would have it no other way.
"What you WANT is irrelevant, what you've CHOSEN is at hand"
-Spock (Startrek)
While Chrissy was still in her physical form here, living amongst us in her body, she had wanted me to see it with her. It seemed intriguing, but from the advertisements, I knew it would be too emotional. Sitting there in the theater beside my sister, knowing her thoughts and my thoughts traveling a similiar path as the sisters up on the screeen. Like Chrissy, the cancer patient, Kate, was growing weary of the treatments, the experimental drugs, the lack of energy, the avoidance of the inevitable. I said that I would do anything for her......even run down the highway naked, anything, but I could not sit in a movie theater with her, and watch a movie of two sisters who were similiar to Chrissy and me. Although the facts of the movie were different, the age of the patient, the type of cancer and circumstances were different, the emotional questions and challenges, watching someone you love die of an illness that literally takes away all your faculties was still the same.
There's no avoiding it.....it just IS.......we are all destined to die. The life lesson here is what do we do inbetween that time of birth and death. What will we learn before our bodies perish? What are we meant to accomplish during our earthly time in these bodies of ours? Often times, tough lessons in life prepare us for the next step, the next challenge. Perhaps the illness of one family member could prepare us to care for another family member or friend. I did not donate my body parts to Chrissy, as Anna did for her sister, Kate, but I was prepared to do so if needed. While you are caring for a terminally ill loved one, you go into worker mode, and I would have given her anything, as would my other sisters, to give her a longer, more productive life. I related to Anna, as she moved forward with a sense of strength around her family and sister, devastated by the physical pain Kate was experiencing but also realizing her role in this cancer walk.....not always understanding or accepting, but there is a KNOWING that we come to learn having a loved one suffer through a fatal illness. There is a blessing in knowing.......and if I had the choice, I would want to know rather than experience death of a loved one suddenly. In knowing, you have the option to do or say whatever needs to be done. Unfortunately for some, they deny and never say or do........and that generally leads to a wreckless or painful life of what ifs and shouldas.
I wouldn't have chosen this life of being diagnosed with breast cancer for my sister or anyone else. No one would want this cross to bear. Perhaps and most likely this cancer journey will surface again to someone I love or perhaps my own self. With a painstaking love for my sister, I can say I was honored to be her keeper in whatever way she needed. I would have it no other way.
"What you WANT is irrelevant, what you've CHOSEN is at hand"
-Spock (Startrek)
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Warm Fuzzies
As Maria was cuddling with me while she was reading her books last night, I felt warm and fuzzy, remembering that our life is not about grief. Right now, we're experiencing all the side effects of grief.....sadness, numbness, anger, new duties, loneliness, fear, feeling disconnected and so on. There are more, and they tend to cycle around. Death is always a part of life, and there's no stopping it or controlling it, and when our loved ones pass over, we learn to live in a new way. We know they're with us, but life will never be the same without their physical presence; it's awkward and different. As much as the person on the sidelines doesn't know what to say; often the person grieving doesn't know what to say either. It all depends on the moment, but never miss an opportune moment when you can help or say something that would make a difference. Try not to say to yourself, I wish I woulda, coulda or shoulda. The slightest word or action could be a warm fuzzy for a friend, a neighbor, a stranger. Blessings abound in death, too, whether we recognize them or not.......there is joy, and that joy is even more profound through death. Joy in nature, joy in the face of your children, joy in the friendliness of a stranger, joy in familiar smells, joy in memories.
As we were reading, I saw Maria's body move back as it was my turn to read, and in my peripheral, I could feel her eyes studying my face. In my heart, I felt she was searching for her mom, possibly recognizing some similarities of her mother's features. On the other hand, there could have been a piece of food resting on my upper lip. Either way, I was reminded of the simple pleasures of life, the warm fuzzies, the graces God has given us, and hoping that I could make a difference in my actions and my words with her.
Today I wanted to share the simple pleasures or warm fuzzies of life that make me smile:
Hugs from my kids, and especially when they want to cuddle with me
Hugs from Marty
The giggling of my children
The setting sun
The rising sun
Shapes of the clouds in front of a blue sky
Dairy Queen icecream.....shoot, any good icecream dipped in chocolate or hot fudge
The smell of a child's hair, especially my own, after their bath
Hearing the voice of Marty over the phone during a work day to see how I'm doing
Watching my children breathe after they fall asleep
Seeing a turtle cross a busy street....the determination
Watching a duck swimming carefree in a pond
Connecting with my sister's eyes, even in the face of a terminal diagnosis
Standing in front of an ocean; hearing those same sounds in my own house from the sound machine
Autumn, my dog, licking my feet (strange as it is, but it makes me smile, who else would do that?)
A baby falling asleep on my shoulder (I love when our little Lucy does this....it's been so long for my own)
My dog walking by my side constantly through the house
The warmth of the sun on a breezy day, esp the fall, but I'll take the springtime, too
Walking through the neighborhood, with a gentle breeze, listening to my favorite tunes
Drinking an ice cold beer when I'm really thirsty......
Sitting on my deck, looking out at the trees and watching nature at work
Reading a great book that I can't put down
Spotting a deer in my yard, but they don't see me
A great meal............shrimp made any way would be a favorite
Comfort foods, especially the fried, crunchy kind
Homemade popcorn made on the stove with a cold beverage
Susie's Chicken Paprikash
Walking into a movie theater and smelling the buttered popcorn
The sweet aromas of a bakery
Biting into a good batch of my chocolate chip cookies
The baby powdered freshness of a newly changed baby's diaper
Watching a toddler make a new discovery
Biting into a thick, rich piece of cheese cake
Hearing the excitement in their voices when my kids have been successful in some endeavor
Receiving a special card, letter or email from a friend or family member which says they are thinking about me
Being in the company of positive energy
Feeling the presence of my sister's spirit
Feeling the presence of God
Cuddling in a warm blanket when the wind is whirling outside
Laying near a heater in my closet when all have gone to sleep
Hearing the belly laughter of Frankie and Maria.....it's so contagious
The good health of my loved ones
Finding blessings in the brokenness is a step towards healing.....not forgetting.....but healing, and the warm fuzzies are those reminders of how blessed I am.
"Keep your thoughts positive because your thoughts become your words. Keep your words positive because your words become your behaviors. Keep your behaviors positive because your behaviors become your habits. Keep your habits positive because your habits become your values. Keep your values positive because your values become your destiny"
-Gandhi
As we were reading, I saw Maria's body move back as it was my turn to read, and in my peripheral, I could feel her eyes studying my face. In my heart, I felt she was searching for her mom, possibly recognizing some similarities of her mother's features. On the other hand, there could have been a piece of food resting on my upper lip. Either way, I was reminded of the simple pleasures of life, the warm fuzzies, the graces God has given us, and hoping that I could make a difference in my actions and my words with her.
Today I wanted to share the simple pleasures or warm fuzzies of life that make me smile:
Hugs from my kids, and especially when they want to cuddle with me
Hugs from Marty
The giggling of my children
The setting sun
The rising sun
Shapes of the clouds in front of a blue sky
Dairy Queen icecream.....shoot, any good icecream dipped in chocolate or hot fudge
The smell of a child's hair, especially my own, after their bath
Hearing the voice of Marty over the phone during a work day to see how I'm doing
Watching my children breathe after they fall asleep
Seeing a turtle cross a busy street....the determination
Watching a duck swimming carefree in a pond
Connecting with my sister's eyes, even in the face of a terminal diagnosis
Standing in front of an ocean; hearing those same sounds in my own house from the sound machine
Autumn, my dog, licking my feet (strange as it is, but it makes me smile, who else would do that?)
A baby falling asleep on my shoulder (I love when our little Lucy does this....it's been so long for my own)
My dog walking by my side constantly through the house
The warmth of the sun on a breezy day, esp the fall, but I'll take the springtime, too
Walking through the neighborhood, with a gentle breeze, listening to my favorite tunes
Drinking an ice cold beer when I'm really thirsty......
Sitting on my deck, looking out at the trees and watching nature at work
Reading a great book that I can't put down
Spotting a deer in my yard, but they don't see me
A great meal............shrimp made any way would be a favorite
Comfort foods, especially the fried, crunchy kind
Homemade popcorn made on the stove with a cold beverage
Susie's Chicken Paprikash
Walking into a movie theater and smelling the buttered popcorn
The sweet aromas of a bakery
Biting into a good batch of my chocolate chip cookies
The baby powdered freshness of a newly changed baby's diaper
Watching a toddler make a new discovery
Biting into a thick, rich piece of cheese cake
Hearing the excitement in their voices when my kids have been successful in some endeavor
Receiving a special card, letter or email from a friend or family member which says they are thinking about me
Being in the company of positive energy
Feeling the presence of my sister's spirit
Feeling the presence of God
Cuddling in a warm blanket when the wind is whirling outside
Laying near a heater in my closet when all have gone to sleep
Hearing the belly laughter of Frankie and Maria.....it's so contagious
The good health of my loved ones
Finding blessings in the brokenness is a step towards healing.....not forgetting.....but healing, and the warm fuzzies are those reminders of how blessed I am.
"Keep your thoughts positive because your thoughts become your words. Keep your words positive because your words become your behaviors. Keep your behaviors positive because your behaviors become your habits. Keep your habits positive because your habits become your values. Keep your values positive because your values become your destiny"
-Gandhi
Sunday, May 9, 2010
My Mother My Soul
We all have our own vision of what a good mother is, and we could all share those special stories. Perhaps your mom had a great sense of humor, sewed your clothes, maybe she was the best cook or baker, or possibly you could bend her ear, and she would listen.....not only hear but listen. Of course my mom was all of those and then some, minus the sewing of the clothes. She did, however, have the best friend who sewed clothes for her and my little sister. What a bonus! She could also run cars off the road with her crazy way of driving.....not on purpose, of course. Her tunnel vision on the road led to many a stories where all of kids would laugh at her unintentional behavior. With a loving innocence she was mortified knowing her actions led to someone elses car driving off the road. Her assertiveness with returning purchased items brought embarrassment from childish eyes; however, it pushed me to stand up for myself as a mother in today's consumer world. What made my mom stand apart, amongst the rest of the great moms of America was her innate quality of making you feel right at home and comfortable in your own skin. Whether you were her biological child or one she adopted through her kids' friends, her smile welcomed you into our home like you were one of her own. Betty had a way of making you feel that she was there to protect you and no one was going to mess with her kids, but you never wanted to cross her. She was a lion with a pussy cat touch, trying to make everything just right.......from our tidied house to the decadent meals to her stylish clothes. She loved laughter and entertaining and pleasing our dad. Without a doubt, I felt her love for my dad, and I hope I can pass along her passion, her soul, her spirit to my kids. When the world would find a way to beat you down, my mom would pick you up and send you on your way.
Being a mother of three, I've gained a whole new respect for my mother who raised five of us, and many of my childhood years, she did it alone and while being sick. As we have all said in the family, "We turned out okay......" (atleast we think so) It is she who empowered and encouraged us. We were her souls from heaven that she guided in this earthly life. It was she who would bring the joy of cooking into our home, giving us reasons to laugh, giving us hope for all the good aspects of life and living. I wouldn't have the faith in God as I do without her example as a mother. She gave me the reason to believe, leading us through painful experiences as well as the celebrations of life. It is in all the pieces of life that we find our soul and reason for being. On this mother's day, as I walked the Komen Race, thinking of my sister, reflecting on the life I had with my mother and watching Maria and Faith skipping along the walking trail, I gave thanks. Thanks to God for the joy two young souls will share with one another, thanks for the influences of my sister, Chrissy, as well as my mother. Thank you God for my mother, my grandmother, my sister and my friend who helped me become the person I am. Our souls are forever connected, forever one, made possible by the grace of God. To all the mothers on this day: you are who you are by the love of your mother. On this day, I give thanks to my mother, my soul.
Soul of my soul, you are in me and I in you,
connected by another soul who is
our mother.
Soul of my soul, we are one,
like the the seed that is planted
and grows into another.
Sister of my heart, your seed is
planted in me.
Like the drops of rain, you can barely
separate them as they mix,
forming the waters of this earth,
they blend into one.
Soul of my soul, you have blended with me
and I in you.
Being a mother of three, I've gained a whole new respect for my mother who raised five of us, and many of my childhood years, she did it alone and while being sick. As we have all said in the family, "We turned out okay......" (atleast we think so) It is she who empowered and encouraged us. We were her souls from heaven that she guided in this earthly life. It was she who would bring the joy of cooking into our home, giving us reasons to laugh, giving us hope for all the good aspects of life and living. I wouldn't have the faith in God as I do without her example as a mother. She gave me the reason to believe, leading us through painful experiences as well as the celebrations of life. It is in all the pieces of life that we find our soul and reason for being. On this mother's day, as I walked the Komen Race, thinking of my sister, reflecting on the life I had with my mother and watching Maria and Faith skipping along the walking trail, I gave thanks. Thanks to God for the joy two young souls will share with one another, thanks for the influences of my sister, Chrissy, as well as my mother. Thank you God for my mother, my grandmother, my sister and my friend who helped me become the person I am. Our souls are forever connected, forever one, made possible by the grace of God. To all the mothers on this day: you are who you are by the love of your mother. On this day, I give thanks to my mother, my soul.
Soul of my soul, you are in me and I in you,
connected by another soul who is
our mother.
Soul of my soul, we are one,
like the the seed that is planted
and grows into another.
Sister of my heart, your seed is
planted in me.
Like the drops of rain, you can barely
separate them as they mix,
forming the waters of this earth,
they blend into one.
Soul of my soul, you have blended with me
and I in you.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Her Pillowcase
Comforting reminders of our loved ones might be a special blanket, a piece of their clothing, a photo, one of their niknaks , jewelry or even a pillowcase. For me, there are all sorts of tangible reminders of Chrissy, my parents, my grandparents, and one day I came upon the pillowcase that reminded me of my sister. Some days I wonder if my sister knew before her time what was going to happen to her ......and perhaps I'm reading too much into it. None of us knows for sure when that time will come, except our Father. Only He knows the answers, and some days I pray that I can accept because I am human......and I tend to ask why? I shouldn't question, but I do. It is going to happen some day for all of us, but why so early for some; yet, others live into their nineties? Shouldn't we question more why we were born rather than why we die? If we questioned our purpose for existence, perhaps we would accomplish so much more, wouldn't we? Sometimes I get a certain feeling about my own future and what God has planned for me. It's that inner voice that surfaces when I've been praying about something in regard to my own life. I imagine, but I can't say with certainty, but for me, items seem to surface when I'm calling for her or missing the smile on her face or the smiles of my loved ones who have passed on to their new life. At times, it is a gutteral ache that's indescribable, feeling that every breath is like lifting a heavy boulder off your chest; yet, other times, when I feel her presence......I do feel a smile creeping at the ends of my mouth. Then I know she's there, and I feel this awesome peace and comfort. I don't always feel that way......but that my friends is the process of grief. It's back and forth where ever our emotions flow.
A few weeks ago, I was getting ready for bed when I grabbed for a blanket in my cedar chest, and I felt this ever so familiar softness of the pillowcase my sister had made for all of us girls, the last Christmas we spent together. As my fingers slid across the softness of the raised hearts, which by the way, I love heart shapes, it brought me back to remembering her smile as each one of us opened her treasure. From my eyes, the heart shape represents a constant flow of love without an end, as love should be. I always knew this particular blanket was there, but it dawned on me at that moment when and perhaps why she had given us those gifts. Chrissy's teenage neighbor had given her one like this when she was sick, and it fit the length of her body so that she could bundle up inside this warm, soft protection. Chrissy cherished that precious blanket pillowcase, and she commented on how thoughtful it was that her young neighbor would take the time to make this blanket. It meant a great deal to her, and she would then pass on that love to us.
Well, what do you know. Chrissy, who wasn't very interested in crafts and sewing, decided to make each one of her sisters a different color pillowcase with raised hearts on it. We were all thrilled at the time to receive something so warm and cute, but it occurred to me what may have been going through her mind as she made them. She had found her lump before Christmas, but didn't tell any of us until after the New Year. This was the second time the cancer had returned, and I think she knew what this meant for her. Prior to her death, we had encouraged her to make a video or write some letters, especially for her children, but to her, it seemed morbid. She didn't want us mourning her by playing messages of her over and over. She wasn't skilled at sewing, by no means, but our blankets turned out so beautifully. That Christmas season I know she created those blankets with us in mind, to keep us warm and protected, to remind us of her constant presence in our lives.
When I found this tangible gift tucked inside my cedar chest, I couldn't help but smile. That blanket showed up at the perfect time, and again I am reminded of those signs that are ever present, but sometimes I miss. As the West County Komen Walk approaches this Sunday, I will walk with Chrissy and the rest of my sisters, the daughters, the aunts, the cousins, the friends, the mothers and the grandmothers, those physically present and those who go before us, while listening to my favorite music, and it will be a time to remember.......remembering her walk, every step, the good with the bad, along with the countless other women. We all have seen the blessings and the heartache that come with this walk.....the walk with cancer. I continue to travel this emotional journey, feeling grateful for the love of my sister through all the tangible items that bring comfort, especially her pillowcase.
"Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know whatcha gonna get"
- Forest Gump's mama
A few weeks ago, I was getting ready for bed when I grabbed for a blanket in my cedar chest, and I felt this ever so familiar softness of the pillowcase my sister had made for all of us girls, the last Christmas we spent together. As my fingers slid across the softness of the raised hearts, which by the way, I love heart shapes, it brought me back to remembering her smile as each one of us opened her treasure. From my eyes, the heart shape represents a constant flow of love without an end, as love should be. I always knew this particular blanket was there, but it dawned on me at that moment when and perhaps why she had given us those gifts. Chrissy's teenage neighbor had given her one like this when she was sick, and it fit the length of her body so that she could bundle up inside this warm, soft protection. Chrissy cherished that precious blanket pillowcase, and she commented on how thoughtful it was that her young neighbor would take the time to make this blanket. It meant a great deal to her, and she would then pass on that love to us.
Well, what do you know. Chrissy, who wasn't very interested in crafts and sewing, decided to make each one of her sisters a different color pillowcase with raised hearts on it. We were all thrilled at the time to receive something so warm and cute, but it occurred to me what may have been going through her mind as she made them. She had found her lump before Christmas, but didn't tell any of us until after the New Year. This was the second time the cancer had returned, and I think she knew what this meant for her. Prior to her death, we had encouraged her to make a video or write some letters, especially for her children, but to her, it seemed morbid. She didn't want us mourning her by playing messages of her over and over. She wasn't skilled at sewing, by no means, but our blankets turned out so beautifully. That Christmas season I know she created those blankets with us in mind, to keep us warm and protected, to remind us of her constant presence in our lives.
When I found this tangible gift tucked inside my cedar chest, I couldn't help but smile. That blanket showed up at the perfect time, and again I am reminded of those signs that are ever present, but sometimes I miss. As the West County Komen Walk approaches this Sunday, I will walk with Chrissy and the rest of my sisters, the daughters, the aunts, the cousins, the friends, the mothers and the grandmothers, those physically present and those who go before us, while listening to my favorite music, and it will be a time to remember.......remembering her walk, every step, the good with the bad, along with the countless other women. We all have seen the blessings and the heartache that come with this walk.....the walk with cancer. I continue to travel this emotional journey, feeling grateful for the love of my sister through all the tangible items that bring comfort, especially her pillowcase.
"Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know whatcha gonna get"
- Forest Gump's mama
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Tom the Grocery Man
How interesting it is when lives intertwine from people we don't expect......even from a grocery man called Tom. One thing I know to be true, is that all the people who enter our lives are meant to be there for a purpose. The reason perhaps could be to learn a lesson, or better yet, they could be the answer to our prayers or us to them. We often don't connect the two, do we? We're often too busy to notice, but I'm convinced that every soul that crosses my path and even those who do not, influence my life in some way, shape or form. Even that brief encounter with a stranger who is having an obvious horrific day. The manufacturing companies of our foods and medicines, the electric and gas companies, and so on. Even beyond our scope, there is an effect on our life. We've seen that person, the one who is yelling on their cell phone or yelling at their kids in public for something trivial or cutting us off in traffic. The difficult part is accepting the mean, disenchanting, selfish, self-serving, arrogant individuals who cross our paths? (is it possible to create anymore adjectives?) They seem to suck the energy out of us, don't they? That is, if we let them, and so often we do. That is a work in progress for me....finding their purpose in my life.
Recently, it dawned on me that even those people have a place in our lives, teaching us how not to behave because it can be so ugly. Perhaps we've been that person, cutting off someone on the road in spite. Better yet, after they leave my world, having my experience with them; I realize different character flaws about myself, which leads me to improve on my own attitude. That reflection often helps me to mature and grow as a wife, a mother, a friend, an aunt, a niece and even a sister. When you experience something miraculous in the moment; you want to stop the clock and freeze that "aha" moment as I've heard it mentioned. What did I learn today that helped me grow into a better person?
This story I'm about to tell relates to Tom, a man who works in Chrissy's grocery story, who was a friend to my sister and an answer to my prayer at just the right moment. Tom was a man who would always greet Chrissy with a smile and would often ask, "How are ya kid?" Once Chrissy was diagnosed with her cancer, Tom had shared with her his son's story, one who had battled the beast.......the cancer. Their relationship had become a special one as she would enter the store to buy her groceries; which made the buying more worth it, waiting for this special man to welcome her into his store. As we spent more time together, I would go on shopping trips with her, and he would greet me as well. He knew what it was to travel this bumpy, uncertain road.....the doctor visits, awaiting the tests, the pain. He would always ask and listen. Towards the end of her life when she was unable to walk or leave her house, I would go in alone to pick up a few items hoping I would see him, and he would continue to ask, "How's my girl doing?" He would listen so intently and share his own horrific experiences about his only child who had passed on to his new life. Tom reminded me of our Uncle Benny, my mom's uncle on my grandma' side. He had these warm brown eyes with aging skin, each line showing the decades of worry.....each groove telling a story. His voice was calming and you always felt special when you were talking with Tom because he was so genuine with his questions, and you knew he cared about my sister.
The early morning came of Chrissy's passing, and from that moment on, your mind not only tries to grasp the loss..... but you're in shock......so your body goes into "to do" mode. You try to think of the arrangements and who to contact and how you're going to do it all with grace and to honor your loved one. Through the week when all was being planned, I did think of Tom, but I couldn't bring myself into the grocery store to tell him. It's very difficult to say the words after a loved one dies, and that's why we often find our few contacts who can pass along the news of their death. It's not easy to let those words flow from your mouth......"Chrissy has died." It seems so final, even though it's not, perhaps it's the awkwardness of what words will come out on the receiving end of the message. Will I be asked the questions of how are you, and how's Frank and on and on and on. Will the receiver want to know or will they give you this awkward stare? Don't misunderstand me when I say it's not anyone's fault for asking, as we eventually want you to ask. When you're traveling in shock without your loved one, you need to get through the logistics of it and you want people to know what to do without having to ask. God is guiding us all the time what to do, but we don't always listen. We need to listen.....
Chrissy had passed on a Friday, and as Sunday approached for church, I was feeling anxious about who I might meet, thinking about Tom, and knowing I had to tell him somehow, and I was trying to avoid all eye contact as much as possible. That's my way and how I was able to deal on that day, that hour, that minute. We sat ourselves further down the aisle in church that day....Christmas was approaching and the crowds were expanding as they usually do during Advent. I found my mind wandering, and I was fortunate to have Msgr. Dempsey preside over the mass. I enjoy his homilies so much because he speaks with a passionate, loving twist, and I always leave church with a positive message. He doesn't come across as judgemental, but he tells a story like he is directly talking to you, even with a packed crowd. That day as we sat in our seats, the Monsignor shared a story about evangelism, as he always does each year......trying to convey the importance of bringing back one person to the Catholic Church who has left. As he continued on, he began sharing a story I had told him about my sister only a month ago. Of course he changed some of the details for privacy reasons, but it was about my sister and me. I don't know if he was inspired by me or by my sister, but either way, I felt a great sense of comfort and I knew she was right there with me. As I turned to look at my husband, who usually sits at the other end between our children, he smiled, too, knowing that the homily was the perfect timing. Monsignor ended his homily, and soon the prayers were mentioned, one being for those who had gone before us, and Chrissy's name was mentioned. My kids looked at me with a grin, feeling a sense of pride to hear their aunt's name mentioned in our church. All of a sudden, I felt a tap on my shoulder and who do you think it was? It was Tom, the grocery man. I was so shocked to see him, because in the ten years that I've been a member at Holy Infant, I never saw him before......I didn't even know he was Catholic.
He embraced me, shared his condolences on the passing of my sister, and with shock in his voice he said, "I didn't know you went to Holy Infant?"
"Same here, Tom, I've never seen you here before."
No matter whose path you cross; there's a reason. Our Father has a reason, and that day, my friends, would be a moment I'll remember forever. One thing I learned from my parents and my family is to be friendly, even to the grocery man. Perhaps our paths will cross for only a second, but timing is everything. Seeing Tom that morning couldn't have come at a better time.
"At any moment, you have a choice, that either leads you closer to your spirit or further away from it"
By Thich Nhat Hanh
Recently, it dawned on me that even those people have a place in our lives, teaching us how not to behave because it can be so ugly. Perhaps we've been that person, cutting off someone on the road in spite. Better yet, after they leave my world, having my experience with them; I realize different character flaws about myself, which leads me to improve on my own attitude. That reflection often helps me to mature and grow as a wife, a mother, a friend, an aunt, a niece and even a sister. When you experience something miraculous in the moment; you want to stop the clock and freeze that "aha" moment as I've heard it mentioned. What did I learn today that helped me grow into a better person?
This story I'm about to tell relates to Tom, a man who works in Chrissy's grocery story, who was a friend to my sister and an answer to my prayer at just the right moment. Tom was a man who would always greet Chrissy with a smile and would often ask, "How are ya kid?" Once Chrissy was diagnosed with her cancer, Tom had shared with her his son's story, one who had battled the beast.......the cancer. Their relationship had become a special one as she would enter the store to buy her groceries; which made the buying more worth it, waiting for this special man to welcome her into his store. As we spent more time together, I would go on shopping trips with her, and he would greet me as well. He knew what it was to travel this bumpy, uncertain road.....the doctor visits, awaiting the tests, the pain. He would always ask and listen. Towards the end of her life when she was unable to walk or leave her house, I would go in alone to pick up a few items hoping I would see him, and he would continue to ask, "How's my girl doing?" He would listen so intently and share his own horrific experiences about his only child who had passed on to his new life. Tom reminded me of our Uncle Benny, my mom's uncle on my grandma' side. He had these warm brown eyes with aging skin, each line showing the decades of worry.....each groove telling a story. His voice was calming and you always felt special when you were talking with Tom because he was so genuine with his questions, and you knew he cared about my sister.
The early morning came of Chrissy's passing, and from that moment on, your mind not only tries to grasp the loss..... but you're in shock......so your body goes into "to do" mode. You try to think of the arrangements and who to contact and how you're going to do it all with grace and to honor your loved one. Through the week when all was being planned, I did think of Tom, but I couldn't bring myself into the grocery store to tell him. It's very difficult to say the words after a loved one dies, and that's why we often find our few contacts who can pass along the news of their death. It's not easy to let those words flow from your mouth......"Chrissy has died." It seems so final, even though it's not, perhaps it's the awkwardness of what words will come out on the receiving end of the message. Will I be asked the questions of how are you, and how's Frank and on and on and on. Will the receiver want to know or will they give you this awkward stare? Don't misunderstand me when I say it's not anyone's fault for asking, as we eventually want you to ask. When you're traveling in shock without your loved one, you need to get through the logistics of it and you want people to know what to do without having to ask. God is guiding us all the time what to do, but we don't always listen. We need to listen.....
Chrissy had passed on a Friday, and as Sunday approached for church, I was feeling anxious about who I might meet, thinking about Tom, and knowing I had to tell him somehow, and I was trying to avoid all eye contact as much as possible. That's my way and how I was able to deal on that day, that hour, that minute. We sat ourselves further down the aisle in church that day....Christmas was approaching and the crowds were expanding as they usually do during Advent. I found my mind wandering, and I was fortunate to have Msgr. Dempsey preside over the mass. I enjoy his homilies so much because he speaks with a passionate, loving twist, and I always leave church with a positive message. He doesn't come across as judgemental, but he tells a story like he is directly talking to you, even with a packed crowd. That day as we sat in our seats, the Monsignor shared a story about evangelism, as he always does each year......trying to convey the importance of bringing back one person to the Catholic Church who has left. As he continued on, he began sharing a story I had told him about my sister only a month ago. Of course he changed some of the details for privacy reasons, but it was about my sister and me. I don't know if he was inspired by me or by my sister, but either way, I felt a great sense of comfort and I knew she was right there with me. As I turned to look at my husband, who usually sits at the other end between our children, he smiled, too, knowing that the homily was the perfect timing. Monsignor ended his homily, and soon the prayers were mentioned, one being for those who had gone before us, and Chrissy's name was mentioned. My kids looked at me with a grin, feeling a sense of pride to hear their aunt's name mentioned in our church. All of a sudden, I felt a tap on my shoulder and who do you think it was? It was Tom, the grocery man. I was so shocked to see him, because in the ten years that I've been a member at Holy Infant, I never saw him before......I didn't even know he was Catholic.
He embraced me, shared his condolences on the passing of my sister, and with shock in his voice he said, "I didn't know you went to Holy Infant?"
"Same here, Tom, I've never seen you here before."
No matter whose path you cross; there's a reason. Our Father has a reason, and that day, my friends, would be a moment I'll remember forever. One thing I learned from my parents and my family is to be friendly, even to the grocery man. Perhaps our paths will cross for only a second, but timing is everything. Seeing Tom that morning couldn't have come at a better time.
"At any moment, you have a choice, that either leads you closer to your spirit or further away from it"
By Thich Nhat Hanh
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