The biggest challenge after success is shutting up about it - Criss Jami

My husband just looked up this woman who replied to a post of his on Instagram. Her reaction to a lift video he posted was all sorts of excited emojis, about 5 or 6 in a row.  Brad saw that, and wondered who she was.  So he went to her website.  Yes, this woman made a whole website about herself.  I was fascinated.  The biography she wrote about herself was all about these over the top activities like sea kayaking in the Arctic ocean looking for narwhals. I kid you not. I mean she had things in there like horseback riding through Kenya, or doing whatever else in Morocco, or climbing seven of the eight tallest mountains, which she wrote about herself in the third person and made it look like it was being written ever so lovingly by someone who admired the heck out of her. I just imagined herself sitting there fist pumping, high fiving herself, putting heart, fireworks and bomb emojis on it after she put the finishing touch on this exquisite dissertation about herself.

As Brad rambled on about all of the stuff she managed to do, which included a trip to the 2015 Crossfit games in the 60+ category (I think this was the only thing that impressed me to be honest) I said rather dismissively, "Wow". Brad countered with, "this is a woman who obviously grabs the world by the balls". I countered that point, "we should all be granted that luxury". And so this blog post was born.

Why does a woman have to do such grandiose things for anyone to think she is "grabbing the world by the balls?"  I don't mean to diminish all that she has done.  Or maybe I am because I feel like there are way more women out there doing things that don't get recognized as "grabbing the world by the balls" because they seem ordinary to the world at large, but they're not.  

I immediately thought of our waitress at our hotel Miami, Amy.  She was such an amazing person to speak to. She is a single mom working two jobs and putting herself through school to achieve a better life we came to learn after having the pleasure of chatting with her.  Why doesn't our society consider this Herculean feat she is accomplishing on a daily basis as awe inspiring as this woman who has a whole website dedicated to all of this stuff I would never think to do as a mom.  I think what Amy is doing is wayyyyy more impressive. SHE is a woman grabbing the world by the balls.  Making it her bitch, all the while doing it alone.  It wasn't like she was writing this bio about herself as if to say, Hey!  Look at me, I'm awesome right?? 

Why do I consider the woman who held her child's hand in the hospital after her child tried to harm herself more impressive?  The woman who promised her child she wouldn't let anything happen to her, that she would be ok. The woman who made it through some of the darkest moments of her life like she was fine and could withstand what was going on so her child would be able to see the calm in her face and know every thing was going to be alright. Why do I consider what she did wayyyy more impressive than the woman who describes herself as a sportsman and intrepid traveler?

What about women who are grappling with whatever illness they have, depression, cancer, diabetes, alcoholism, insert any illness here, and working every day, or raising their family every day?  Trying to make it through when underneath it all somedays they just don't know where the strength is coming from to put one foot in front of another.  Why don't they realize how freaking beast they are and make a website about themselves?  

What about the women out there brave enough to serve in our military? I know I personally wouldn't have the fortitude.  But many women do serve our country. Some who chose to have children, and have families, have to leave them for eons at a time because our country needs them to perform their jobs and provide us with the safety and security so we can go climb mountains if we want to.  I want to see more websites about them!!  Their mountains are way harder to climb than the summit of Everest I think!

What about teachers?  These are women (and men, but I am ranting about women here so I will leave the boys out of this) who truly mold our future.  We all have those teachers that made such an impact on our lives, we remember them, and what they did for us, so fondly. I would rather read an entire website about these women who are underpaid and completely under appreciated, who truly make a difference in our world by helping our children reach their goals.

Or women who volunteer their time at places like animal shelters, food pantries, homeless shelters, shelters for battered women and their children and such? That selflessly give their time to make the lives of the the innocent, the less fortunate better.  Actions like that impact our world with such a positive energy, why is riding on horseback in Kenya something that is supposed to make me more impressed?  I guess for me it doesn't.  But for some reason it doesn't compel many of these Wonder Women to make up their own website because it's doesn't have the wow factor of retracing the footsteps of Lewis and Clark.

I don't know, like I said to Brad I don't mean to sound ugly, but I know so many women who have done things that blow me away who haven't created a website to let the world know just how awesome they are. Who quietly go about doing what they do, making their impact on our world, all without needing to make a website tooting their own horn.  

But, as for this horn tooter whose website got me all riled up?  When I think of every thing she's done, yes I am impressed, and no, I don't want to take any of it away from her.  I think it's awesome you have accomplished so much in your time on this planet.  I think it's important for women to support each other.  But honestly? How did your actions do anything positive for our world at large?  

I think that's exactly why I want see websites about women who are doing nothing that makes them think they are extraordinary too.  

I think we are all extraordinary to people in our lives.  We are all doing something that makes us special, I just wish we all felt what we are doing makes us exceptional enough to have our very own website.

“Humility is the greatest shaper of souls and crafter of character, for it wipes away all the grandiose things that we spend so much of our lives pretending to be, so that we can spend all of our lives being the exceptional person that we were actually created to be.” 
― Craig D. Lounsbrough

You were made perfectly to be loved - and surely I have loved you, in the idea of you, my whole life long. Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Today is my 27th wedding anniversary. I got thinking about the whole institution of marriage.  What it entails to make a marriage work.  Here are the musings of this mad woman, or a woman who is madly in love :)

I texted a friend this morning who texted me and wished us happy anniversary and said that if her marriage is even half of what ours is, she considers herself lucky.  I texted back thank you of course, that is a truly beautiful thing to hear from someone, but I also wanted to remind my pretty newly married friend that marriage won't always be perfect, it isn't always easy, but it is sooooo worth the effort and commitment.

I think that is a pretty true statement.  I thought of my brother's ex-wife strangely enough after I sent that text.  She was a nice enough person, but I always said while she was planning their wedding, that it appeared to me she was more worried about the fairy tale day and not so much about the "happily ever after" part.  I still believe that to be true.  I wonder sometimes if she had thought about what her golden years with my brother would have been like if she would have married him in the first place. Seeing the "ex" in front of the "wife" tells you the answer was a definite no.

I also wonder about people who make a big fuss about the ring.  I can tell you unequivocally I would have married Brad if he just said to me, let's go to a justice of the peace and get married.  I didn't need a ring to promise my heart to him.  I just wanted to be with him.  It made me think of my mom and dad.  No engagement ring, no big fancy wedding, just them getting married.  They didn't celebrate their anniversary that I could remember, I think it was some time in October, but they were together for 43 years before Pop died.  The last 16 of them spent with my mother being a care giver to a man who went through some pretty horrific times.

Marriage vows bounce around inside my head when I think of them-"for richer or poorer"-they had absolutely nothing when they were first married, yet mom didn't leave dad.  They were a team and made the best with what they had.  "in sickness and in health"-Pop was sick for so long, and mom cared for him.  There was never a question in my mind if she would leave like I think would happen in so many marriages today if the going got that rough.  There was probably a good deal of "for better or for worse" that I was unaware of because that's how easy they made it look.

I can remember asking my mom after my dad died if she would ever consider dating again, and she answered me with something I will never forget.  "No"  when I asked why, she told me she had already had the best.  No one else would ever match up.  You know what?  I get that.  I feel that way about Brad.  No one could fill the space in my heart.  I wouldn't even want to bother.  Any man that thinks I am beautiful before I brush my teeth is a keeper in my book hahahaha!

Anyway, I digress.  Today is nothing but happy thoughts.  Of how lucky we are to have each other. How happy I am you love me no matter how ugly I cry or how bad my morning breath is.  How you are my biggest cheerleader and I am yours.  How blessed we are with our girls, their health.  How amazing it is to be Nee and Op.  The list of how lucky we are is truly endless.

I cannot wait to see what the next 27 years hold.  I am putting my tray table in it's upright and locked position and fastening my seat belt.  Our Golden years are coming for us and this is going to be an even more thrilling part of our ride.

I love you to the moon and back!

A wedding anniversary is the celebration of love, trust, partnership, tolerance and tenacity. The order varies for any given year~Paul Sweeney

Self pity is our worst enemy and if we yield to it, we can never do anything wise in this world ~ Helen Keller

I went to a party on New Years Eve afternoon, no not a real party, my husband and I never get invited to those, but a party I think everyone is familiar with.

A pity party.

The day had started off well enough.  Coffee in bed with Brad, one of my favorite things.  I have been getting dizzy a lot, a sensation I could definitely live without.  I have been veering away from my strict, anti-inflammatory diet lately, there were Christmas cookies and other yummy holiday treasures for me to eat after all, and I was feeling it physically. Toss in the stress and the problems that holiday's can bring to family members, and subsequently me, and I was a right, old mess.  No other way to describe it.

As I tottered around after my lovely morning in bed with coffee and my hubby, I felt like I needed a V-8

kind of like I was walking on ice and so off balance it was disconcerting.  But I had planned to work out with Brad.  We didn't go to the New Year's Eve teamer at our Crossfit Box.  We had a slow start, and I needed that.

So we went into our garage.  Our workout was to be 20 calories on the rower, since we only have one here, I chose to ride our assault bike while Brad rowed.  Then we had to do 16 thrusters.  Another 20 calories rowed or ridden, then 17 toes to bar, I chose to do ab mat sit ups.  I had a bit of an issue with my left grip yesterday, like the kind of issue where I dropped a bar that I was doing shoulder to over head lifts with while it was overhead, causing it to smash into my shoulder and then knee on its way down, ergo, I was nervous to hang from the bar to do my toes to bar from.  Three rounds of that and we would be ready for our fun New Years Eve we had planned.

Fast forward about 15 minutes and I was sweaty, hot, and finished.  I had to sit when we were done.  I really couldn't move to be honest.  Walking was difficult.  My stupid left leg was having none of me working out and overheating.  My husband had to navigate me to our bench press bench, I sat there gulping down my ice water as he was said what a great workout we just had.

At that sentiment, I burst into tears.  I was having my own New Years Eve Pity Party!!  I didn't need to wait for an invite from people that would never come.  I was having my own damned party, and I invited Brad.  He had no choice but to accept this invitation, he was going to come to this party.  Isn't he a lucky man???  There were no party hats, or noise makers. Just me making the noise.

I let the tears flow. I was frustrated. I started rambling out loud, pitying myself and how my body was reacting to working out. I was sad, so sad for the athlete I would never be, sad for all of the hard work I have done at Crossfit and weight lifting for the last how many years that seemed to be going to waste. I thought back to the Ironman I did, the marathons, all of the hard fondos on my bike, long swims with the sharks.  All of that would never have a chance of repeating in my life.  I can't run a mile without my left leg dropping and landing like I am wearing a lead boot.  At this point, I was a blithering idiot. Did I mention I am an ugly crier?  All manner of bodily fluids were running down my face by the time I got everything off of my chest that I had been carrying around with me for the last little while. I felt like the weight of the world had been lifted off of my shoulders.  This Atlas finally shrugged under the weight of her emotions.

My poor husband.  He just let me go, let me cry and spew the frustration I was feeling.  I was on the wrong side of life at this moment.

So I am sitting there feeling like I was in the darkest place in my world.  I wanted to be on the sunshine, lollipop and rainbows side of my mind.  I didn't like feeling like I did.

Brad let me finish, let me sop up my mess of a face and he told me just what I needed to hear.  That no matter what happened, we would deal with it together.  No matter what came at me, I wouldn't be alone, I wouldn't have to bear this by myself.  Those words comforted me.  I needed to hear that I was loved unconditionally like that.  Time to put your big girl booty shorts on Dee...how do I feel better and get to that happy place?

I thought of my last blog, about being grateful for all that I have.  If there is one thing I am not?  It is a hypocrite. I am really a lucky woman when I sit back and think.  I could be way worse off physically.  I know that.  Know I am lucky to still be able to scale a Crossfit workout to make my way through it.  I guess in a way, that's sort of bad ass right?

Keep thinking Dee.

Alright, I was able to make a wonderful holiday for my family.  I actually prayed and thanked God every time I opened my refrigerator and saw how much food was in there.  What a blessing that is! To have such abbondanza!  It was such a celebration to share all of that with the people I love!

The thoughts continued....

I was doing laundry today and was able to sneak up behind the door as my daughter Erin was coming in the house and scare her, it's still a sport to scare here.  Only to have her give me an exasperated "Dani-yell" in her best imitation of my Grandma Tav saying my name.  How that makes me laugh!  We laughed and got back to folding my clothes that we are able to afford.  The clothes that keep us warm, that I can wash in my fancy, schmancy washer and dryer.  No beating clothes on a rock here lol!

I heard my daughter Katie belly laughing with her boyfriend at something silly, and hear them laugh and laugh.  A sound that I don't think anyone understands how it wraps itself around my heart and warms me from the inside out.  Makes me so glad to hear after she has struggled so desperately with depression, such an ugly condition.

I remember the excitement my daughter Heather experienced flying the drone her dad got for Christmas and learning how to make it flip, how happy she was for her best friend Quinn to come over to ring in the New Year with her, or snuggle like a baby joey in the Eno hammock tent thingee that she got from her sister.  I smile thinking about her coming up to me and asking for a hug or genuinely wanting me to sit and watch some of our favorite shows together.

I chuckle every time I get a text from Bailey gushing about my Antknee's potty training successes.  I break into a huge grin at each text I read from her.  Makes my heart positively sing to see how beautifully she is raising my little man.  I scold myself for worrying what would happen with Anthony entering this world.

I will be able to cheer my husband on and be his biggest fan at Wodapolooza again this year.  How lucky I am to be going to Miami, I am practicing my yelling loud enough so he can hear me already.   I know how lucky I am to have him in my life these last 28 years.  Lucky that I have been gifted with this man who has worked so hard to provide all he has for my family.  We have every thing we need and most of what we want.  Who loves me as purely as he does.  I am so, so blessed.

Yes, I hear that naggy little voice in my ear whispering, "you have everything you need, except perfect health".  No, I don't, but little voice, hear this, I am doing every thing I can in my power to get better. I will live with whatever life throws at me,  I will handle it. Know why? Because I put my big girl booty shorts on and realized just how lucky I am.

I have my husband, my girls, my Antknee.  I have my extended family if I need them, I have four dogs who are convinced I am the best human they have ever met.  I have all of the beauty I have blogged about before.  I am truly lucky, this I know.  Go to hell little voice....


So I close in saying that I might have been given a bad break, but I've got an awful lot to live for.

- Lou Gehrig

“Because thankfulness is the tonic that always cures the cancers of greed, envy and jealously, it should be taken in liberal doses daily.” ― Craig D. Lounsbrough

Most folks are as happy as they make their minds up to be~Abraham Lincoln

Read that statement again.

Now again.

Really consider it.  Are you happy?

I mulled that around in my brain as I was smiling at this nice morning I have planned. I am going to make cookies and clean the house with my soon to be 21 year old daughter, getting ready for her birthday, Christmas and her boyfriend's visit. I laughed at the thought. So simple, yet it made for such a perfect foundation for my day yesterday I was eager to repeat it today. 

Such an epiphany I had....This morning sounds too simple to make someone happy in today's day and age.  I am buying nothing fancy. Not doing anything over the top spectacular by anyone else's standards besides, well, my own.  This day went as well if not better than yesterday.

I had a terrible dream the other night.  I dreamt that we were homeless.  That we lost this house I have complained about for the last 12 years.  Yes, all 4000 or there abouts feet of it, including our third floor.  Yes, I complained about a house that has a third floor.  We had so many problems moving in here, both with construction and neighbors.  Things that I stubbornly and steadfastly have held on to.  So much so it got to the point that I hated it here.  All it took was one simple dream, and a couple of fun mornings with one of my girls, and that smacked my spoiled ass back to reality. How insanely fortunate am I?? Why have I missed this point for so freaking long???  No, it's not the fanciest house, in the fanciest neighborhood, but it is the home where I raise my family.  The home I saved how many homeless animals in?  The home where so many life altering events have occurred.  Some good, some bad, all survived with our family still intact and stronger for them.  The home that keeps us safe and warm, or cool, and protected.  How could I have been so foolish?

The morning after I had that dream, a very dear friend posted a video on his Facebook about the "Disease of More"  Talk about serendipity.  Talk about a video that hit me like a freight train...https://www.facebook.com/thehypenews/?pnref=story

It spoke to me, to my heart, to my brain still struggling with the awful dream I had.  I have been feeling like I am spinning on this giant hamster wheel of I need this!! Or I need that!!  I am here in my home, surrounded by things that many would just dream about, and still I wanted more.  I wasn't enjoying all that I had.  That needed to stop and stop now.  

I was becoming one of those people who try to buy happiness.  Whether it's through fancy cars, jewelry, pools, vacation homes, boats, whatever the possession might be, those people are running on my hamster wheel of I HAVE TO HAVE IT OR I WILL NEVER BE HAPPY.  Look at me!  Look at my fancy clothes, my fancy car, my fancy watch.  I must be doing well for myself, I must be happy right? You mad bro? You jealous bro??  But it begs the question are they happy?  My guess would be no. I know I wasn't. When I googled the question, "will being rich make me happy", I was surprised with the all of the articles stating that the answer is pretty much not necessarily.  That it is not material possessions that make us happy but experiences. 

This blurb from an article from the Motley Fool was very telling and made such sense to me:

Our appetite for self-destruction 

What's so wrong with relishing and embellishing the good? It's costly. Faulty emotional recall makes us do dumb things with our money, like buying cool new stuff that never quite satisfies.

In so many areas, we know when enough is enough. When we're healthy, we don't strive for extreme health. After a good meal, we're sated -- we don't order another filet mignon to augment our satisfaction.

Yet our "pause" button shorts out when it comes to money. The brief pick-me-up that accompanies a raise or windfall (think of it like a caffeine buzz) drives us to want more. We get a raise, spend it, adapt to our improved circumstances, and seek more money, working up a sweat on what University of Southern California economist Richard Easterlin calls the hedonic treadmill.

But somehow the happy-o-meter stays in the same place, or even slows down. Consider that the average American is less satisfied with life today than we were in the 1950s -- yet we earn twice as much (and, yes, that's adjusted for inflation). No wonder they never crown a winner of the rat race.

It would appear the answer is a resounding NO!

All of the sudden I am getting it.

I sat yesterday in our hot tub (yes we have a hot tub and I still was thinking of what next believe it or not) it was freezing outside.  One of those cold days where this sky is an unbelievable shade of blue, looking up at the sky that was a blue that reminds me of one of my daughter's eyes.  I looked over at my husband who sat across from me and I felt so sincerely blessed at that moment.  I have my sight, which with MS is never something I should take for granted.  I was able to appreciate the blue of the sky, appreciate how they remind me of the beautiful blue of my daughter's eyes. I was able to see this gorgeous guy that has been my husband for almost 27 years.  I could see the crinkles by his eyes because he was smiling too. Those crinkles that I have loved, because there is this genuine smile of happiness that goes with them.  I got it.  I felt like this moment from the Grinch....

My heart was swelling and I got it.  How could I have not seen this all before? Why did I miss out on enjoying this so much?  When we finally got out and came inside, I looked around my house and saw how beautifully it was decorated by my girls.  The scene brought me to tears as I truly appreciated all of the care and consideration that went into the decorating.  That I understood I was blessed to have the hot tub, Christmas decorations, a home that was warm after being jolted by the cold. I had a place to go to get warm, that was a safe haven that so many do not have any time of year.  

How could I be so stupid?

I couldn't wait to get back to making cookies with my girl, which we did later in the day.  Knotting those Italian Christmas cookies made me smile as I chattered away with her.  

This is good, this is all good.  

I am done with the Disease of More.  I am replacing it with the Disease of I am so lucky.  Or the Disease of being thankful for all I have.

I explained this all to my girls last night.  How lucky I have been feeling about everything.  How truly grateful I am.  I could see the truth in these statements making sense to them.  I could see it in their eyes.  I want them to celebrate all that they have instead of needing and wanting more thinking it will make them happy. 

I suddenly felt like that moment when the Grinch understands Christmas, He puzzled and puzzed till his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before. Maybe Christmas, he thought... doesn't come from a store. Maybe Christmas, perhaps... means a little bit more!

This is true of life too isn't it?  Happiness doesn't come from a store, it comes from within, it comes from sharing and loving and doing for others.  It comes during moments of grace when the sky is so blue it's almost blinding.  It comes when a little voice says, 'Mon Nee, 'mon, and his little hand grabs you to see what is so important in his world at that moment... It comes when you are greeted with a bunch of wagging tails too excited to see you after being gone five minutes. It comes when the man you love looks over at you and smiles his genuine smile and crinkles his eyes up.

I never want to forget this lesson I've been lucky enough to finally learn.

The Disease of More?  Nope, for me it's now the Disease of No More.  

“Do not indulge in dreams of having what you have not, but reckon up the chief of the blessings you do possess, and then thankfully remember how you would crave for them if they were not yours.” 

― Marcus Aurelius  

When I die I hope to go to heaven, where ever the hell that is.....Ayn Rand

I am sure if you're a Walking Dead fan you've seen the new episode that has everyone talking. There is one line from a particularly heart wrenching scene that keeps popping up in my head. The one where Glen just had his head bashed by Lucille, eyeball popping out, him reaching for his beloved Maggie and trying to form the words "I will find you".  That moment stuck with me, not for the eye ball popping gore, although that does make me nauseous to this moment, but the sentiment. I will find you.

It made me think, could he? Would he find her after he crossed to the next level of existence? Would he watch over his pregnant love? Would he wait for her on the other side? Would they find each other someday? So many questions. 

It brought me to the question my husband asked me right before his dad passed, after every thing he witnessed, "I wonder what it's like? Dying, I wonder what happens". 

My knee jerk reaction is well as a Catholic, I believe that we go to heaven if we are truly repentant. That there is this mass of souls floating somewhere and hopefully we will find each other there. But then I think about my friends who don't believe like I do. 

Where do they go?  What happens to them?  I know every belief system has something they adhere to with end of life issues.  Do we all meet up and have an amazing end of life party??

I sometimes question my beliefs though.  If there really is an after life, why isn't there someone who came back?  To tell us they're ok. Come floating down, harp in tow to tell us what happens. To not be afraid.  Brad said maybe you can't. But that begs the question why not? I mean if you're a spirit and floating around why not? 

After my dad died, right after we came back home from NY, one morning while I was particularly missing him, and everything was still pretty fresh and raw, I found a penny on my bedroom floor. A pretty unremarkable event in itself, but what was remarkable was the date on the penny. It was minted in 1939. The year my father was born. Odd coincidence no?  Was this my dad's small way of letting me know that he had indeed crossed into the afterlife.  That he was truly ok?  Or what about my dream with my best friend, where I swear she was really sitting there with me after  she died in that car crash?  Was that her way of sneaking back to let me know all was good?  

I brought this all up to my daughter who is studying religions in college right now and she posed some really interesting thoughts.  One of my favorites was when she questioned who has souls? Do animals have souls?  Why do they say animals won't go to heaven if they have to have a soul to live. Why wouldn't they go to heaven then?  Is there really such a thing as a bad animal? Would say a dog be a bad dog because he bit someone?  She brought up how in psychology good behavior brings good consequences, bad behavior brings bad consequences, sort of the basis of all religions in a way really. 

The discussion went on and on until she finally got up to make a pot of coffee because in her words, it was too early to start having an existentialist crisis.  Too funny.  I guess caffeine cures all lol.

I just got off of the phone with my mom who brought up, out of the blue, something that happened to her today.  She walked into her laundry room and she said she was hit with a smell she hadn't smelled in years.  The smell of Mennen Speed Stick.  My father wore that deodorant all of the time.  She said he put it on like a layer of spackle every morning.  That would ordinarily be no big deal, but the thing is dad passed away almost 13 years ago.  My mom said she picked up every piece of laundry smelling it, looking for a source of the odor.  Only she couldn't find it.  What if it was my dad trying to let my mom know he was there with her again?  What if he was wrapping his ethereal arms around her, sneaking a hug?  I smiled at that thought.  I know my dad fought his way back from life support to be with mom, only to have the staff infection take him away.  I believe in my heart he was just checking in on my mom.  He fought so hard, so many times, for so many years not to leave her.  I believe he just might have come to see she was still doing well.

There is the part of me that wishes there was some one who had an answer to all that confounds me. Maybe like my oldest daughter said, when I read the start of this to her, that death is something so many are afraid of that no one wants to know the answers.  No one wants to try and figure out the answers. Maybe, but a part of me wants to know my loved ones are ok and happy.

"Exploring the unknown requires tolerating uncertainty" ~ Brian Greene

So what do you think?  I have friends from all faith and non faith ideals.  Feel free to leave comments regarding your beliefs about the afterlife.  I would love to hear what you think.  In the mean time, I will continue to let this bounce around inside my head.

God made death so we'd know when to stop. ~Steven Stiles

I intend to live forever. So far, so good. ~Steven Wright

“I believe that what we become depends on what our fathers teach us at odd moments, when they aren’t trying to teach us.” – Umberto Eco

While traveling back from what was supposed to be a surprise birthday visit for his dad, that turned into what it did, my husband scripted a note to his dad and shared it with me.  I asked my husband if I could post this on my blog, permission was granted with his blessing.  Hope you are enjoying your coffee and newspaper this morning dad.  Thank you for sharing this with us honey, it is truly beautiful. 'Nuff said, please enjoy.

Some gifts are more important then others. 

This past week I was able to spend a lot of time with my dad.  It turned out to be his final days and hours on this earth.  During some of the quiet moments sitting there with him I was able to reflect on all the gifts he gave me over my life. 

I'm not talking about toy trains and race car sets.  While he did give me plenty of those.  I'm talking about the kind of gifts that you can't put a bow on and that don't  fit in a box.  The kind of gifts that you keep with you your entire life and hopefully pass on to your children and that they in turn  pass on to theirs.  He gave me gifts that have no price tags but are priceless. 

My father gave me the following gifts.  

Fatherhood. He taught me what it means to be a good father. That being a father is more then the physical act of reproducing a child it is a life long responsibility of doing the best that you can to love, nurture and raise your children.   

Loyalty.  He taught me that you don't let others down that you stand by them and if you make a commitment to them you stick with it.   

Integrity.  He taught me that your word is your bond.  Don't say things if you don't mean them.  Don't lie, cheat or steal to get ahead.  

Love.  He taught me about love.  That it is unconditional and that it is okay to say it often and express it to those that you do.  

Friendship.  He taught me about friendship.  That while you don't have to have hundreds of friends that you should cherish the ones that you have. 

Emotions. He taught me that it is okay for a man to show emotions.  That it is okay to cry.  That it's not a sign of weakness but a sign of confidence and compassion. 

Hard Work.  He taught me to always give your best and work hard.  Whether on a job, on the playing field or just in life, always give 100%.  

Kindness.  He taught me to always be kind and polite to others.  To help those that need it.  To do some simple things daily like hold the door for people and say please and thank you.  

These gifts that he gave me carry no monetary value.  They aren't in listed in a will and there is no estate tax on them. But I couldn't ask for a better inheritance from him.  He gave me gifts that make me strive to be a better person everyday.  To hopefully be able to pass these gifts onto my girls and hope that they will pass them on to their children.  I already see it with my oldest and how she is raising her son. 

So dad let me once again say thank you and that your legacy will hopefully live on for generations.  I love you and miss you so much already. 

“He didn’t tell me how to live; he lived, and let me watch him do it.” 
– Clarence Budington Kelland

The simple things in life brought the biggest pleasure in the twilight of his....

"I'm going to get better, then I am going to have a cup of coffee, I am going to read the newspaper, I am going to have a strawberry milkshake, I'm going to read a book...."  Things my father in law rattled off to my husband that he'd like to do when he gets better.  Only he isn't going to get better.

The simple things in life, symbolic of a far simpler time.  Times that bring back the joys of maybe swinging on a porch swing at dusk in the summertime, going swimming in his favorite swimming hole with his friends when he was younger, mooning the trains that went by (one of the stories he loved to entertain my girls with when they were little).   The simpler things that represent my father in law, who now lies in a hospital bed, a former shell of himself.

My girls face-timed him today, before they moved him to hospice, to say they love him one more time.  While he is lucid and knows them again.  One more time before he slips into the clouds of his mind that his Alzheimer's brings.

A man from humble origins.  His mom and dad came over from England and settled in the West Chicago area.  His dad was a brick mason by trade, and he'd do a handstand atop every chimney he completed.  My father in law spoke very rarely of his dad.  I believe it was too painful for him.  He had the unfortunate luck of finding his dad after his father decided to end his own life.  An event that so desperately scarred him, depression haunted him his entire life because of this.

He and my mother in law married later than average for their time.  They didn't rush to get married at 18 as was de rigueur, adopted my husband even later than most people do for the era they were born in to.  He liked listening to big band music, loved golf, but then loved things like watching the Sopranos.  He was an amazing golf player during his younger life, even worked as Arnold Palmer's vice president back when you came home to a martini waiting for you from your wife before dinner and smoking a pack or two a day wasn't an issue according to doctors.  Hell they might even recommend your brand for you.

We moved this lovely human being into hospice this evening, because as he said during moments of his lucidity today, I've been sick a long time.  It seems like it.  Like Brad and I said, he was healthy for 87 and a half years, the last year and a half will not be how we remember him.  I choose to remember the man I met 27 years ago, who cried when he met the woman who had captured his son's heart. The man who brought Beau treats because Beau tickled him so.  The man who played the dollar game with my girls until the shaking in his hands got to be too much and he stopped playing it.

He had many health issues through his life, but overcame things like his heart disease or diabetes problems and did his best to take good care of himself, dieting and exercising although he did hide potato chips in his car so my mother in law wouldn't find them.  I won't mention how he longed to stop at the roadside stands that sold beef jerky near his villa in FL.

All it took was pulling three teeth, and his world unravelled.  The bleeding wouldn't stop, turns out he developed acquired hemophilia for no apparent reason they could ever find, and after that stint in the hospital to stop his bleeding from those three teeth, he was never the same.  It seemed to accelerate the rate of confusion he encountered.  The medicines they put him on to control his new condition made him tired, cranky and he stopped wanting to eat.  The man who loved nothing better than a bratwurst, a piece of standing rib roast with Yorkshire pudding,  anything hardy, because no dainty finger sandwiches would do for my father in law.  The man who I loved to feed, because the Italian in me was overjoyed when he ate until he was ready to burst and he thanked me for making him dinner. He stopped eating.  He stopped caring.

Today, this beautiful human being went to hospice, to wait for the last breath he will breathe.  And we all wait with him.  Wait for him to go softly into that goodnight because the night is falling for you dad.

You are surrounded by those who love you, like that line from Ghost I often quote because I know in my heart it's true, the love inside, you take it with you.  I know you are feeling that love inside, and I know you are taking it with you.

Until we all see each other again.  Please scratch Beau's big, old Boxer chest for me.  I know he will be waiting for his treat from you, and let my dad know how much I miss him and how well I am doing!

“There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief…and unspeakable love.”– Washington Irving