I love reading my friends' blogs. Although some haven't updated their blogs in, oh, two or three years, it's still fun to see the blogs they were following and still check up on those people's lives.
Tonight, while I was reading my cousin's blog, which is a pretty good one I might add, I saw the button at the top that says, "Next Blog." Well hell, I'll push that link and see what happens.
But before I actually tell you what happened, let me tell you why I was so surprised at what happened.
I thought blogs were for moms, families, those struggling with things. That's why I started my blog, right? To sort through all the weird feelings that I was going through after my dad died. And now, I use it to talk to you since you can't really understand what I say anyway. I want you to know all my thoughts about you since the day you were born.
So I read my friends' blogs about dealing with a brain tumor, or watching their kids grow up, or family milestones. Never, did I imagine, what I might find when I clicked that link.
I came to the Elder of Ziyon (yes, spelled Z-i-y-o-n) blog. I had no idea what exactly it was about, but it had a picture of angry men in armor marching toward the person taking the picture. And across that picture, it had "PALESTINE VS. EUROPE."
I quickly clicked "Next Blog" hoping for some pictures of flowers and possibly a son and daughter, smiling and laughing for a camera. Nope.
www.angryarab.blogspot.com. If you didn't get that, that's "Angry Arab." In fact, in typing that I hope it doesn't somehow link to his/her blog and then all of a sudden he/she is looking for where I live.
*CLICK* onto the next. "Point of No Return" - a somewhat depressing feature on Jewish refugees. Interesting, but still incredibly sad and nothing like the flowery fauna picture I have in my head.
*CLICK* "Infidel Bloggers Alliance"
*CLICK* "Uprooted Palestinian"
*CLICK* "Gallia Watch"
All this clicking, and no happy pictures of families. No laughing children, jumping dogs, or even just a naked baby in a basket and some full-time mom talking about how her child projectile pooped all over her.
All these blogs with so many different things...
It made me think of all the things I want you, as my son, to be.
1) Be educated. Know what you're talking about. Be able to justify all the decisions you make. I'm not sure if the authors of these blogs are well educated. Or rather, educated with both sides of the story...
2) I don't care if you're transgendered. Gay. A woman trapped in a man's body, I will love you unconditionally. But don't be that way because it's the cool thing to do. And don't be weird, different, or odd simply because it sets you apart from others. If being that way naturally sets you apart from others, then that's fine, but don't set yourself apart from people just to be different. Have a reason and be able to stick with that reason. I don't want you to go goth for only two years of high school. See the following -
3) Go hard, or go home. If you're going to go goth, go goth all the way, son. The one thing you will notice about me is that mediocrity is the furthest thing from me. Do it all, or don't do it at all. Invest your best self, your whole self, or don't invest yourself at all. No one ever walked onto the football field and said they wanted to be a mediocre quarterback. The authors of these blogs most definitely follow this particular step.
4) Watch and learn. Watch other people make mistakes, and learn from those mistakes. It does not mean you always have to make your own mistakes. However, in watching those mistakes, only garner the facts. Don't base your education of the lessons those mistakes taught on assumptions on how those mistakes turned out. Refer to #1. Also refer to the aforementioned blogs...
5) Keep your side of the street clean. Don't ever put anything negative about anyone somewhere permanent, like the web. Try not to be negative in the wake of others' negativity, and always see everyone else's point of view. Again, refer to #1. And the aforementioned blogs...
6) It'll put hair on your chest. This was a famous saying of Grandpa Tom's and I would always reply with, "But dad, I don't want hair on my chest." I still don't. But I get it. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger. And God knows that I've been through my fair share of chest hair.
7) Be kind. People will forget exactly what you said to them, but they will never forget how you made them feel. Always be kind, you don't know what kind of battle others are facing on any given day.
I love you. And if you ever start a blog, please follow these 7 principles!
Monday, March 25, 2013
Saturday, March 23, 2013
Lifeline...
I remember on long bus rides in junior high reciting every number you could think of, and see who could recite the most.
749-5341 = my mom's office number
749-2541 = Lexi Stangl's number
749-5531 = high school number
1-800-call-jenny = weight loss number
And I could go on and on and on. How many times a day did we dial any given number, especially during the summer? Calling a friends house, calling a friends house from a friends house. Giving our friends' numbers out.
Of course, this was all before cell phones, where we could automatically store someone's number in our contacts, and then selectively call them simply by choosing their name. You always had to remember the phone number.
I'm not sure if it was fate, but I got a new phone a few months before my dad died. My parents phone number started with a (641) area code. I was sick of misdialing it with a (515) area code, which is the area code I live in. So while doing some random task, I attempted to enter it and save it, only I never got to the "and Dad" part, so I just entered "Mom." To this day, I'm thankful I don't have to look and see "Mom and Dad" when dialing home. Moreso, I'm thankful I didn't have to delete the "and Dad" part.
On the other side of this story, my very best friend had a baby almost 5 months ago. Combine that life with the fact that I have a 10 month old running around, and our phone dates have become few and far between. So we had a phone date "scheduled" for one night, and her name in my contacts list is "Courto Sporto."
The name and number saved directly beneath hers in my contact list is "Dad."
It had been awhile since we had talked, and I had to dig through my contact list to get her number, since of course, I don't have a need to memorize it and therefore don't. In my anxiousness to call her, I scrolled too quickly, landed on "Dad" and pushed send.
It was a rip-out-my-guts, sear-my-soul and stop-my-heart moment.
I pushed "end" not once or twice, but a half dozen times to make sure the call didn't go through. And it wasn't the thought of someone actually answering and then my having nothing to say that made me push the "end" button like a maniac. It was the fact that in my little-girl heart, I had the thought that he might answer. And then... what would I say?
I'm sorry. I miss you. I wish we would have had a better last conversation. Why did you have to go so soon? I wish you could meet James, he's getting so big! I hope you didn't feel anything. Do you hear me when I talk to you? I have a cold. It's snowing at the end of March, can you believe it? I love my job. Eric's been so busy, you'd be so proud of him. Our cat is still alive. We let him roam outside when he wants to, he loves it! We have a video monitor where I can watch James take every little breath and scoot around, he's such a restless sleeper! Can you believe the state America is in? It's gotten crazy! I haven't played cribbage since you died, I think I forgot how to? Haha, I could never forget how to whip your butt. Next big project is the deck, then hopefully the bathroom, if we have the time.
And so on and so forth. These are the thoughts that periodically race through my head when I think about my dad, and then some.
Courto and I talk, a lot. At least, we did. Now, we try to, but life doesn't always make sure that's possible. But we try. I've never had to sift through my contacts in order to call her, I've just had to look through my recent calls. But this time, I had to look through my contacts list.
You go through your year of "firsts" - first birthday without him, first holiday, first BIG holiday, first child, first baptism, first house, first first first. Then the year of "seconds" - second birthday without him, second holiday. And it's so. much. easier. But still tough. Still tough. And as you're coasting through that year of seconds, you come to another "first" that throws you off guard. In the third year, the same; another first which throws you off your game again. And although the time it takes for you to compose yourself gets shorter and shorter, it still throws you off. It's still tough.
After more than four years, I have come across yet another first. And it's almost a comical first. What should I name it? First-time-I've-accidentally-tried-to-contact-someone-in-Heaven? I can honestly say it takes the cake for "firsts."
So I can laugh at myself. I can talk about it with friends, Eric. I can laugh some more. But on the inside, I'm at a crossroads. Do I delete his number?
But in my little-girl heart, I still have the thought he might answer. So for now, I'll keep it. It's my lifeline to Heaven, I guess.
749-5341 = my mom's office number
749-2541 = Lexi Stangl's number
749-5531 = high school number
1-800-call-jenny = weight loss number
And I could go on and on and on. How many times a day did we dial any given number, especially during the summer? Calling a friends house, calling a friends house from a friends house. Giving our friends' numbers out.
Of course, this was all before cell phones, where we could automatically store someone's number in our contacts, and then selectively call them simply by choosing their name. You always had to remember the phone number.
I'm not sure if it was fate, but I got a new phone a few months before my dad died. My parents phone number started with a (641) area code. I was sick of misdialing it with a (515) area code, which is the area code I live in. So while doing some random task, I attempted to enter it and save it, only I never got to the "and Dad" part, so I just entered "Mom." To this day, I'm thankful I don't have to look and see "Mom and Dad" when dialing home. Moreso, I'm thankful I didn't have to delete the "and Dad" part.
On the other side of this story, my very best friend had a baby almost 5 months ago. Combine that life with the fact that I have a 10 month old running around, and our phone dates have become few and far between. So we had a phone date "scheduled" for one night, and her name in my contacts list is "Courto Sporto."
The name and number saved directly beneath hers in my contact list is "Dad."
It had been awhile since we had talked, and I had to dig through my contact list to get her number, since of course, I don't have a need to memorize it and therefore don't. In my anxiousness to call her, I scrolled too quickly, landed on "Dad" and pushed send.
It was a rip-out-my-guts, sear-my-soul and stop-my-heart moment.
I pushed "end" not once or twice, but a half dozen times to make sure the call didn't go through. And it wasn't the thought of someone actually answering and then my having nothing to say that made me push the "end" button like a maniac. It was the fact that in my little-girl heart, I had the thought that he might answer. And then... what would I say?
I'm sorry. I miss you. I wish we would have had a better last conversation. Why did you have to go so soon? I wish you could meet James, he's getting so big! I hope you didn't feel anything. Do you hear me when I talk to you? I have a cold. It's snowing at the end of March, can you believe it? I love my job. Eric's been so busy, you'd be so proud of him. Our cat is still alive. We let him roam outside when he wants to, he loves it! We have a video monitor where I can watch James take every little breath and scoot around, he's such a restless sleeper! Can you believe the state America is in? It's gotten crazy! I haven't played cribbage since you died, I think I forgot how to? Haha, I could never forget how to whip your butt. Next big project is the deck, then hopefully the bathroom, if we have the time.
And so on and so forth. These are the thoughts that periodically race through my head when I think about my dad, and then some.
Courto and I talk, a lot. At least, we did. Now, we try to, but life doesn't always make sure that's possible. But we try. I've never had to sift through my contacts in order to call her, I've just had to look through my recent calls. But this time, I had to look through my contacts list.
You go through your year of "firsts" - first birthday without him, first holiday, first BIG holiday, first child, first baptism, first house, first first first. Then the year of "seconds" - second birthday without him, second holiday. And it's so. much. easier. But still tough. Still tough. And as you're coasting through that year of seconds, you come to another "first" that throws you off guard. In the third year, the same; another first which throws you off your game again. And although the time it takes for you to compose yourself gets shorter and shorter, it still throws you off. It's still tough.
After more than four years, I have come across yet another first. And it's almost a comical first. What should I name it? First-time-I've-accidentally-tried-to-contact-someone-in-Heaven? I can honestly say it takes the cake for "firsts."
So I can laugh at myself. I can talk about it with friends, Eric. I can laugh some more. But on the inside, I'm at a crossroads. Do I delete his number?
But in my little-girl heart, I still have the thought he might answer. So for now, I'll keep it. It's my lifeline to Heaven, I guess.
Thursday, March 21, 2013
Debt Free?
I have several friends who have gone through the Financial Peace University courses offered by Dave Ramsey. I have heard him on many talk radio shows, including his own.
Everything he says makes sense. When people, who have taken his course, say that it has changed their lives, it makes sense.
So Eric and I are sitting here with a little over $18,000 in debt. Total. Minus the house.
For attending a private university for three years, and taking my sweet time to get through college in general, that does not seem that bad. I pay almost $290 in student loan payments every month. Not bad at all. It still allows us some freedom to do what we would like to do.
We get Papa Murphy's Take-n-Bake pizza (fricken delicious). We rent movies. We subscribe to Netflix and XBox Gold or whatever it is that allows us to watch Netflix. We go out to eat with friends. We buy pop at gas stations when James has kept us up all night. We make sacrifices where we need to, but oftentimes, we don't need to.
And then I think, why am I continuing to just pay down the debt one measly payment at a time? Don't get me wrong, I overpay on every loan we have. I overpay on our mortgage every month and I most definitely overpay on my student loans. But do I overpay enough? Is there more I could be doing? It's not bad shelling out $290 a month, but could I be shelling out more?
So I scoured the internet. Pinterest afforded me (haha) the most bang for my buck (double haha). It was there that I found blog after blog of couples that have become debt free. And they did it in 12 months, 18 months, 24 months.
Could we do that? What would I do with an extra $300 a month? Even moreso, what would I do with that money that I pay in our mortgage?
Eric and I have been talking about adding a bathroom. We have been talking about adding our deck. So we're going to do that, because we can afford it. We don't take out home loans, we don't borrow against our equity. That is something that early in our marriage we decided we would never do, simply for the fact that it's just not worth it to us. Besides that, in a close second, it's because we love to see what we can do on our own. Be it stretching our dollar, or doing the manual labor ourselves.
So last night, we sat down and had a long talk about our finances. We've never done that before. We also don't believe in sitting down with anyone and paying them to tell us about our finances. I love learning things on my own, and again, Eric and I love doing the manual labor ourselves.
So we scoured and scoured and scoured through our finances. For two hours.
In the past three days, we have spent a total of $27 on things we don't need. Seriously? How is that possible? Pop at the gas station, some dash mount thing for our GPS. Things we don't need.
Then we talked about how many times we just go up to the counter of ANY store that we're in, and just swipe the card without knowing what we're spending. I've been thinking about this debt-free thing for awhile, so when I went to Target the other day, I paid attention at the register. I knew I was buying diapers, wipes, formula and facewash. Nothing too extravagant. I went through the typical motions I normally go through - swipe the card before she's done swiping the barcodes of my product, go through the question/answer on the keypad, and then wait for my receipt. Not once did she mention how much my total was, because it was on the screen. But I never paid attention to the screen. I just went through the motions. I spent $92 at Target, without batting and eye.
Granted, it was on things that we needed for James, and that we needed for us. But nonetheless, it was $92 that I wouldn't have known I spent unless I really paid attention. I had an inkling, but nothing like that.
But I digress -
In cutting our finances, we figured out there really isn't any place we can cut our finances, except DirecTV. Noooooo! We can't last without our Fox News.
But I took the plunge and called DirecTV. Damn them, they offered us an even better deal. A no contract deal. But we're saving $35 a month. $35 we can put toward paying off more debt.
We've decided we'll cut out things we don't need. I will stop going to the pop machine at work to buy WATER (really? I need to buy water?) I went through my closet - sure, I have some really cute clothes. But do I wear them anymore? Onto ebay they went. Complete with nearly "professional" photos. If they don't sell on ebay, there are a few consignment stores that I know they will find a good home at.
So I will let you know where we're at in a week. This should be a very interesting journey!
Everything he says makes sense. When people, who have taken his course, say that it has changed their lives, it makes sense.
So Eric and I are sitting here with a little over $18,000 in debt. Total. Minus the house.
For attending a private university for three years, and taking my sweet time to get through college in general, that does not seem that bad. I pay almost $290 in student loan payments every month. Not bad at all. It still allows us some freedom to do what we would like to do.
We get Papa Murphy's Take-n-Bake pizza (fricken delicious). We rent movies. We subscribe to Netflix and XBox Gold or whatever it is that allows us to watch Netflix. We go out to eat with friends. We buy pop at gas stations when James has kept us up all night. We make sacrifices where we need to, but oftentimes, we don't need to.
And then I think, why am I continuing to just pay down the debt one measly payment at a time? Don't get me wrong, I overpay on every loan we have. I overpay on our mortgage every month and I most definitely overpay on my student loans. But do I overpay enough? Is there more I could be doing? It's not bad shelling out $290 a month, but could I be shelling out more?
So I scoured the internet. Pinterest afforded me (haha) the most bang for my buck (double haha). It was there that I found blog after blog of couples that have become debt free. And they did it in 12 months, 18 months, 24 months.
Could we do that? What would I do with an extra $300 a month? Even moreso, what would I do with that money that I pay in our mortgage?
Eric and I have been talking about adding a bathroom. We have been talking about adding our deck. So we're going to do that, because we can afford it. We don't take out home loans, we don't borrow against our equity. That is something that early in our marriage we decided we would never do, simply for the fact that it's just not worth it to us. Besides that, in a close second, it's because we love to see what we can do on our own. Be it stretching our dollar, or doing the manual labor ourselves.
So last night, we sat down and had a long talk about our finances. We've never done that before. We also don't believe in sitting down with anyone and paying them to tell us about our finances. I love learning things on my own, and again, Eric and I love doing the manual labor ourselves.
So we scoured and scoured and scoured through our finances. For two hours.
In the past three days, we have spent a total of $27 on things we don't need. Seriously? How is that possible? Pop at the gas station, some dash mount thing for our GPS. Things we don't need.
Then we talked about how many times we just go up to the counter of ANY store that we're in, and just swipe the card without knowing what we're spending. I've been thinking about this debt-free thing for awhile, so when I went to Target the other day, I paid attention at the register. I knew I was buying diapers, wipes, formula and facewash. Nothing too extravagant. I went through the typical motions I normally go through - swipe the card before she's done swiping the barcodes of my product, go through the question/answer on the keypad, and then wait for my receipt. Not once did she mention how much my total was, because it was on the screen. But I never paid attention to the screen. I just went through the motions. I spent $92 at Target, without batting and eye.
Granted, it was on things that we needed for James, and that we needed for us. But nonetheless, it was $92 that I wouldn't have known I spent unless I really paid attention. I had an inkling, but nothing like that.
But I digress -
In cutting our finances, we figured out there really isn't any place we can cut our finances, except DirecTV. Noooooo! We can't last without our Fox News.
But I took the plunge and called DirecTV. Damn them, they offered us an even better deal. A no contract deal. But we're saving $35 a month. $35 we can put toward paying off more debt.
We've decided we'll cut out things we don't need. I will stop going to the pop machine at work to buy WATER (really? I need to buy water?) I went through my closet - sure, I have some really cute clothes. But do I wear them anymore? Onto ebay they went. Complete with nearly "professional" photos. If they don't sell on ebay, there are a few consignment stores that I know they will find a good home at.
So I will let you know where we're at in a week. This should be a very interesting journey!
Thursday, March 14, 2013
10 months!
Holy moses, you're starting to turn into a little boy right before my very eyes.
You move so fast nowadays! You're all over the place - up, down, across the room, up again. You have been trying to stand on your own, but never last very long. We feed you the same thing we feed ourselves, garlic and all. You've stopped actually getting "tired" and have begun to just go and go and go until we realize it's way past the normal time you typically fall asleep, and we have to put you down.
You sleep so well, you're always smiley and giggly and happy. The favorite part of my day is when I go to pick you up from Lauren's. I love how much you're learning, but I hate how fast you're learning it because it means that time is going too quickly.
I love the face you make when we pick up the baseball. You're starting to really giggle and laugh - big belly laughs! You are ticklish on your neck and love your stuffed drill that vibrates when you pull the cord. You also love anything that isn't really a toy - like our tube of antibiotic ointment, our three-hole-punch and of course, the printer. You still love the printer.
I have so many expectations for this coming summer. I can't wait to take you places, to the park, on walks, to the pool. I can't wait to see you experience all those new things you have no idea are out there yet.
You're so much fun. You react to everything, you tell us when you want more, you tell us when you're done. I love it when I have to work at night and your daddy is watching you, and you crawl over to the ottoman, and then up to me like you want me to play with you. And I always do, because I can't help those little blue eyes looking at me over my computer.
You take everything in stride, and I'm so thankful and lucky. I love being a mom!
You move so fast nowadays! You're all over the place - up, down, across the room, up again. You have been trying to stand on your own, but never last very long. We feed you the same thing we feed ourselves, garlic and all. You've stopped actually getting "tired" and have begun to just go and go and go until we realize it's way past the normal time you typically fall asleep, and we have to put you down.
You sleep so well, you're always smiley and giggly and happy. The favorite part of my day is when I go to pick you up from Lauren's. I love how much you're learning, but I hate how fast you're learning it because it means that time is going too quickly.
I love the face you make when we pick up the baseball. You're starting to really giggle and laugh - big belly laughs! You are ticklish on your neck and love your stuffed drill that vibrates when you pull the cord. You also love anything that isn't really a toy - like our tube of antibiotic ointment, our three-hole-punch and of course, the printer. You still love the printer.
I have so many expectations for this coming summer. I can't wait to take you places, to the park, on walks, to the pool. I can't wait to see you experience all those new things you have no idea are out there yet.
You're so much fun. You react to everything, you tell us when you want more, you tell us when you're done. I love it when I have to work at night and your daddy is watching you, and you crawl over to the ottoman, and then up to me like you want me to play with you. And I always do, because I can't help those little blue eyes looking at me over my computer.
You take everything in stride, and I'm so thankful and lucky. I love being a mom!
Saturday, March 2, 2013
Goodbye SEP
Well, I took a new job. I'm incredibly excited about it and it was a needed change. I feel like I not only got an injection in the arm regarding teaching, but also regarding life. I feel like I'm back to normal.
With my leaving, I'm also leaving all my students that I've formed such awesome relationships with. I will miss them, but like someone wise once said, "Your kids will be your kids anywhere you go. So true."
So here are some things from my facebook posts that I want to keep, but need to clean off in order to become friends with my kids.
People blog all the time about their feelings, right? Isn't that what writing a note on facebook is like? Blogging my feelings?
My dad died tonight. The person who raised me to fight for what I believe in, the person who made me as strong as I am. The person who commanded respect when he walked into the room, not only because he was a huge guy, but because his personality and laughter were contagious. My dad was a wonderful person.
Is it really stupid that I'm afraid to delete his number from my cell phone? It's not that I'm sad to delete it. I'm literally afraid to delete it because that was how I last talked to him. What if I forget that conversation? And why the fuck didn't I tell him I loved him at the end of it?
It was weird coming to the part of someone's death when you get to go into the emergency room and talk to them. I kept thinking he was going to wake up. And the funny part was I didn't feel stupid talking to him at all. I felt like every time I ended my part of the "conversation" he was going to wake up and start in on his part. I made sure to cover his foot when I left because that and his arm were the only things not covered by the blankets. And his head. I didn't want him to be cold.
I guess he just dropped dead in the field he was working in. Which is better than taking the long way out of this world, I suppose. But god damnit, why? I keep looking around my parents' house and seeing all the things that remind me of him. I'm sitting in the stupid, beautiful kitchen he re-did all himself this past year typing on my parents' computer. At 1:43 in the morning. Because everytime I close my eyes, tears come out. When I'm awake and doing something, it's not so easy to cry.
I had my major breakdown in the parking lot of a hotel off Oralabor Road in Ankeny. I knew something was very wrong when my mom called during our Vocal Music meeting to say "Dad went down in a field, he's on his way to the hospital." I called Eric, who was luckily already home, to get things packed, we were heading home as soon as I could get there.
I hadn't heard anything from my mom after about 30 minutes, so I called her. It seemed like we could not drive fast enough. It didn't help we were battling rush hour traffic. She answered, but not really. All I could hear were sobs and then the call was lost. I called again and again, the call was lost. Finally, on the third try (dad, was that you?), a nurse named Barb answered the phone. She asked if I was the daughter. What kind of fucked up question is that? I thought. I answered yes, she asked me where I was. I told her pulling onto I-35 from Des Moines, we'd be there in two hours. She asked if I was driving - I said no, my husband was. Looking back, I see exactly where that was headed. I didn't at the time, I just remember feeling like my heart was going to explode and I might throw up all at the same time. When she told me I needed to pull over, I wanted to smash my fist through the fucking windshield. The only thing I could think of saying to her was, "Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?" I felt bad, but I was so mad at her at that moment. So Nurse Barb from the emergency room, if you ever read this, I'm really sorry I swore at you.
Someone else got on the phone and told me I needed to take some deep breaths and calm down. At that moment, it seriously felt like I had a split personality. All of a sudden, a wave of calm came over me and my tears instantly stopped. I knew she was right - if the news was what I had assumed, I was going to have to be there for my family. And that meant NOT being such a basketcase. So Eric finally pulled into the hotel parking lot, I got off the phone with nurse Barb (or whoever it was at that point) and took a deep breath.
When Allan answered the phone, it was like swimming underwater and you can't quite hear everything clearly. I remember asking him how he was doing, I remember nodding my head and grabbing the door handle to step out of the car to have a private moment with my brother who is 1000 miles away. "Allan? Dad just died" were my exact words. I got off the phone with my brother and lost it. I've never known myself to sob like that before. I now truly know the meaning of "sob." And that sucks.
If anyone is reading this (dad, I know you are, so I'm sorry there are so many f-bombs), I hope you realize how much my dad meant to me. We may not have talked often, we may not have said much in each other's company, but I loved him wholly and deeply. I also hope you don't feel sorry for me - my dad wouldn't have wanted that. He would be proud that I'm doing something to get past this. It's going to be a long, tough road, but my dad always said "don't sweat the small stuff. What's the problem with that? It's ALLLL small stuff."
I loved you dad. I hope you know that.
My dad died tonight. The person who raised me to fight for what I believe in, the person who made me as strong as I am. The person who commanded respect when he walked into the room, not only because he was a huge guy, but because his personality and laughter were contagious. My dad was a wonderful person.
Is it really stupid that I'm afraid to delete his number from my cell phone? It's not that I'm sad to delete it. I'm literally afraid to delete it because that was how I last talked to him. What if I forget that conversation? And why the fuck didn't I tell him I loved him at the end of it?
It was weird coming to the part of someone's death when you get to go into the emergency room and talk to them. I kept thinking he was going to wake up. And the funny part was I didn't feel stupid talking to him at all. I felt like every time I ended my part of the "conversation" he was going to wake up and start in on his part. I made sure to cover his foot when I left because that and his arm were the only things not covered by the blankets. And his head. I didn't want him to be cold.
I guess he just dropped dead in the field he was working in. Which is better than taking the long way out of this world, I suppose. But god damnit, why? I keep looking around my parents' house and seeing all the things that remind me of him. I'm sitting in the stupid, beautiful kitchen he re-did all himself this past year typing on my parents' computer. At 1:43 in the morning. Because everytime I close my eyes, tears come out. When I'm awake and doing something, it's not so easy to cry.
I had my major breakdown in the parking lot of a hotel off Oralabor Road in Ankeny. I knew something was very wrong when my mom called during our Vocal Music meeting to say "Dad went down in a field, he's on his way to the hospital." I called Eric, who was luckily already home, to get things packed, we were heading home as soon as I could get there.
I hadn't heard anything from my mom after about 30 minutes, so I called her. It seemed like we could not drive fast enough. It didn't help we were battling rush hour traffic. She answered, but not really. All I could hear were sobs and then the call was lost. I called again and again, the call was lost. Finally, on the third try (dad, was that you?), a nurse named Barb answered the phone. She asked if I was the daughter. What kind of fucked up question is that? I thought. I answered yes, she asked me where I was. I told her pulling onto I-35 from Des Moines, we'd be there in two hours. She asked if I was driving - I said no, my husband was. Looking back, I see exactly where that was headed. I didn't at the time, I just remember feeling like my heart was going to explode and I might throw up all at the same time. When she told me I needed to pull over, I wanted to smash my fist through the fucking windshield. The only thing I could think of saying to her was, "Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?" I felt bad, but I was so mad at her at that moment. So Nurse Barb from the emergency room, if you ever read this, I'm really sorry I swore at you.
Someone else got on the phone and told me I needed to take some deep breaths and calm down. At that moment, it seriously felt like I had a split personality. All of a sudden, a wave of calm came over me and my tears instantly stopped. I knew she was right - if the news was what I had assumed, I was going to have to be there for my family. And that meant NOT being such a basketcase. So Eric finally pulled into the hotel parking lot, I got off the phone with nurse Barb (or whoever it was at that point) and took a deep breath.
When Allan answered the phone, it was like swimming underwater and you can't quite hear everything clearly. I remember asking him how he was doing, I remember nodding my head and grabbing the door handle to step out of the car to have a private moment with my brother who is 1000 miles away. "Allan? Dad just died" were my exact words. I got off the phone with my brother and lost it. I've never known myself to sob like that before. I now truly know the meaning of "sob." And that sucks.
If anyone is reading this (dad, I know you are, so I'm sorry there are so many f-bombs), I hope you realize how much my dad meant to me. We may not have talked often, we may not have said much in each other's company, but I loved him wholly and deeply. I also hope you don't feel sorry for me - my dad wouldn't have wanted that. He would be proud that I'm doing something to get past this. It's going to be a long, tough road, but my dad always said "don't sweat the small stuff. What's the problem with that? It's ALLLL small stuff."
I loved you dad. I hope you know that.
And:
Yesterday I needed a baseball bat and something to beat the shit out of. Today I need about 10 shots of Bailey's. Tomorrow I'll probably feel like sky-diving and I hate it when I'm not in control.
The first time I drank Bailey's was with my dad. My grandmother, his mother, had died on my first day of college. He offered me some Bailey's and I said yes. Now I love Bailey's, but rarely drink. However, today would be nice. Just to take the edge off.
Last night, my brother and I looked through my dad's wallet and billfold. He had written a check out to Krieger's Flowers the day before he died. It was to buy my mom flowers for Valentine's Day - to be delivered the day after we bury him. Isn't that crazy? But that's dad - always showing up randomly when you're least expecting it. He did that once when Eric and I lived in the ghetto our first year in Des Moines. Then he left $40 on the endtable and we didn't find it until later that night. Always showing up when you least expect it.
Today is a lot harder than I ever imagined it. We go to the funeral home in less than 2 hours. My mom's mom is coming and my dad's brother, Steve. Steve's a great guy - he reminds me a lot of my dad.
I'm numb. But it's going to get better. I know that because my dad would never let it get worse.
The first time I drank Bailey's was with my dad. My grandmother, his mother, had died on my first day of college. He offered me some Bailey's and I said yes. Now I love Bailey's, but rarely drink. However, today would be nice. Just to take the edge off.
Last night, my brother and I looked through my dad's wallet and billfold. He had written a check out to Krieger's Flowers the day before he died. It was to buy my mom flowers for Valentine's Day - to be delivered the day after we bury him. Isn't that crazy? But that's dad - always showing up randomly when you're least expecting it. He did that once when Eric and I lived in the ghetto our first year in Des Moines. Then he left $40 on the endtable and we didn't find it until later that night. Always showing up when you least expect it.
Today is a lot harder than I ever imagined it. We go to the funeral home in less than 2 hours. My mom's mom is coming and my dad's brother, Steve. Steve's a great guy - he reminds me a lot of my dad.
I'm numb. But it's going to get better. I know that because my dad would never let it get worse.
The Cardinal
I love having the windows open. Absolutely LOVE having the windows open. You will find that I will suffer through 85 degree heat in our house if that means that I can leave the windows open.
I will open the windows if it's 60 degrees out and Spring is approaching, even if it means that I have to leave the heat on (don't tell your dad).
When we lived in an upstairs duplex while I was in college (and your dad and I were living together before we were married - gasp), I put our bed directly underneath our bedroom windows. When I would wake up to rain, I would lay in bed for as long as possible and listen to it. When it was sunny, I would lay in bed as long as possible and watch the birds in the giant oak tree directly outside our window. When it was cloudy and cold, I would burrow under the covers and listen to the cars drive by and the wind blow through the trees. I loved that bedroom.
In our house, your dad won't let me put the bed under the windows, but that doesn't mean that I don't love having them open. I made sure that I slept on the side of the bed closest to the windows. I am pretty sure we have an overabundance of comforters for the sole fact that I love sleeping with the windows open, even when it's 45 degrees.
I have finally figured out that I just love the sound of the outdoors. I love being outside. I played outside all the time when I was younger. Went to the pool every day. Actually enjoyed mowing the lawn - although when I got older, it was more of an excuse to be outside for 2 hours getting a tan.
Rural Iowa Summers were the best times of my life. Running around our huge lawn, catching fireflies, having bonfires, hanging with friends, no coats. I love the outdoors in Spring, Summer and Fall. So I want to bring as much of the outdoors inside as possible.
I want to instill this in you as well. I didn't think much of it, but once you were born, I wanted to keep the windows open as much as possible. First and foremost because I just love walking into a room where the windows are OPEN. It just feels like you're outside. Secondly, I didn't want you to be allergic to all things dust related because you're never exposed to it.
So I left the windows open. The day you turned a month old, I walked into your room to feed you and there was a cardinal sitting on the branch directly outside your window. I just remember it being so bright red and LOUD. And it was right there! Again, just reaffirming why I love having the windows open.
I fed you and walked back into my bedroom and there was the cardinal again. I had been having some doubts about my parenting, and wasn't quite sure if I was doing things right. I just felt as though this cardinal was more than just a cardinal, but it might just be my dad telling me it was all right. I never wrote about that cardinal again, but it stayed all summer and chirped and danced and hopped through our back yard. Kinnick tried with all his might to get it, but every time, the Cardinal would allude our poor cat.
Each time he showed up, it was when I was doubting my parenting. Was I doing things right for James? Should I take this new job to have summers off with my son? Should I be a full time mommy? So many things that I would question and every time, that cardinal would show up.
I would always think it was my dad, showing up in some way, not to necessarily guide me to the right answer, but to just get my MIND off of things! He was always good at doing that, and there it was. I would start doubting myself, the cardinal would show up, distract me and before I knew it, I was past whatever was bothering me.
Fast-forward to Christmas. Eric and I decorated our door with two wreaths - one that wraps around the door frame and another, traditional circle wreath that we hung on the light. True to only your good-ole parents, we forgot about the circular wreath and it's still there as I write this. But there's a reason.
One night, we heard one of the stray cats that roams our neighborhood outside meowing. At first, we thought it was there for Kinnick, as they love to romp and play and pick on each other. Probably more the latter than the former... but then the cat jumped up and off our door straight at our light! It was kind of weird, but we didn't think much of it.
Until Eric came home late from work that next week. He said he was getting sick of birds being in that wreath, dive-bombing him every time he came home from work. I laughed and didn't think much of it until James was being fussy one day.
I had no idea what was wrong with him. No new teeth, no runny nose, no fever, fed, bathed and changed. He just seemed really unhappy, and I was getting really frustrated. What on earth did I need to do for this child? Why can't we communicate???
I picked him up and walked him around, stopping by the door so James could look out the window. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry as I looked at the wreath and saw not one or two, but three juvenile cardinals, stashed in that wreath.
We watched them fly to the ground, grab sticks, and then fly back. We watched them dance, hop, and chirp at each other. I could not believe it. I bet we stood there for 10 minutes.
Although our window is different types of glass, I know James saw them as he started laughing and watching them. It was fascinating to see something I didn't think I would see again, multiplied by three. We just stood there, staring. It was an amazing sight.
Needless to say, I cannot wait to watch these Cardinals with James all Spring and Summer. I cannot wait to take him outside to do it. I can't wait to keep the windows open, with hopes that these cardinals will land right on the branch outside his window. I can't wait until their chirping wakes him up in the morning. I can't wait until he becomes fascinated with them as much as I am.
I will open the windows if it's 60 degrees out and Spring is approaching, even if it means that I have to leave the heat on (don't tell your dad).
When we lived in an upstairs duplex while I was in college (and your dad and I were living together before we were married - gasp), I put our bed directly underneath our bedroom windows. When I would wake up to rain, I would lay in bed for as long as possible and listen to it. When it was sunny, I would lay in bed as long as possible and watch the birds in the giant oak tree directly outside our window. When it was cloudy and cold, I would burrow under the covers and listen to the cars drive by and the wind blow through the trees. I loved that bedroom.
In our house, your dad won't let me put the bed under the windows, but that doesn't mean that I don't love having them open. I made sure that I slept on the side of the bed closest to the windows. I am pretty sure we have an overabundance of comforters for the sole fact that I love sleeping with the windows open, even when it's 45 degrees.
I have finally figured out that I just love the sound of the outdoors. I love being outside. I played outside all the time when I was younger. Went to the pool every day. Actually enjoyed mowing the lawn - although when I got older, it was more of an excuse to be outside for 2 hours getting a tan.
Rural Iowa Summers were the best times of my life. Running around our huge lawn, catching fireflies, having bonfires, hanging with friends, no coats. I love the outdoors in Spring, Summer and Fall. So I want to bring as much of the outdoors inside as possible.
I want to instill this in you as well. I didn't think much of it, but once you were born, I wanted to keep the windows open as much as possible. First and foremost because I just love walking into a room where the windows are OPEN. It just feels like you're outside. Secondly, I didn't want you to be allergic to all things dust related because you're never exposed to it.
So I left the windows open. The day you turned a month old, I walked into your room to feed you and there was a cardinal sitting on the branch directly outside your window. I just remember it being so bright red and LOUD. And it was right there! Again, just reaffirming why I love having the windows open.
I fed you and walked back into my bedroom and there was the cardinal again. I had been having some doubts about my parenting, and wasn't quite sure if I was doing things right. I just felt as though this cardinal was more than just a cardinal, but it might just be my dad telling me it was all right. I never wrote about that cardinal again, but it stayed all summer and chirped and danced and hopped through our back yard. Kinnick tried with all his might to get it, but every time, the Cardinal would allude our poor cat.
Each time he showed up, it was when I was doubting my parenting. Was I doing things right for James? Should I take this new job to have summers off with my son? Should I be a full time mommy? So many things that I would question and every time, that cardinal would show up.
I would always think it was my dad, showing up in some way, not to necessarily guide me to the right answer, but to just get my MIND off of things! He was always good at doing that, and there it was. I would start doubting myself, the cardinal would show up, distract me and before I knew it, I was past whatever was bothering me.
Fast-forward to Christmas. Eric and I decorated our door with two wreaths - one that wraps around the door frame and another, traditional circle wreath that we hung on the light. True to only your good-ole parents, we forgot about the circular wreath and it's still there as I write this. But there's a reason.
One night, we heard one of the stray cats that roams our neighborhood outside meowing. At first, we thought it was there for Kinnick, as they love to romp and play and pick on each other. Probably more the latter than the former... but then the cat jumped up and off our door straight at our light! It was kind of weird, but we didn't think much of it.
Until Eric came home late from work that next week. He said he was getting sick of birds being in that wreath, dive-bombing him every time he came home from work. I laughed and didn't think much of it until James was being fussy one day.
I had no idea what was wrong with him. No new teeth, no runny nose, no fever, fed, bathed and changed. He just seemed really unhappy, and I was getting really frustrated. What on earth did I need to do for this child? Why can't we communicate???
I picked him up and walked him around, stopping by the door so James could look out the window. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry as I looked at the wreath and saw not one or two, but three juvenile cardinals, stashed in that wreath.
We watched them fly to the ground, grab sticks, and then fly back. We watched them dance, hop, and chirp at each other. I could not believe it. I bet we stood there for 10 minutes.
Although our window is different types of glass, I know James saw them as he started laughing and watching them. It was fascinating to see something I didn't think I would see again, multiplied by three. We just stood there, staring. It was an amazing sight.
Needless to say, I cannot wait to watch these Cardinals with James all Spring and Summer. I cannot wait to take him outside to do it. I can't wait to keep the windows open, with hopes that these cardinals will land right on the branch outside his window. I can't wait until their chirping wakes him up in the morning. I can't wait until he becomes fascinated with them as much as I am.
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