Take every moment……
Today was my babies sixth birthday. Six years ago I heard her cry as she took that first breath into her lungs….and I celebrated her and I celebrate her now.
I just got back from a run….it was cold. The air burned as it pushed its way into my lungs…but the moon shown down on my shoulders and my mind was clear and I thought about my life, my children and all the blessing that decorate my life.
Seems like my life is a constant cycle of undulation. Somedays I greet the sun with hope and excitement for the adventures to come and other days….I mourn the people I have lost, lives that do not touch mine anymore.
In those moments I remember…that all of our days are numbered…..every day is brilliant and ripe with possibilities for whatever our wildest dreams are. Those moments are ours….we own them and we cannot turn them in for more…. so never quit trying…..and do the things that you want to do.
I have a sweet dear friend…..she is a lot like me. She finds herself in moments and her heart breaks and she cannot see beyond the clouds that mask her…..but I tell her….I promise her that you just have to hold your breath and move forward. And sometimes it hurts…it hurts like hell but as with all things time is a healer of a broken heart.
You have to hold the precious moments in your mind….the subtle glances, the gentle touches and the moments when you danced in the rain together.
Those moments belong to you and no one in the world can take them away from you. It does hurt, life hurts. Life does not always pan out the way you think it ought…but it is your life, you make the call…you chose what breaks you and what does not.
My daughter…six years old. We almost lost her when she was born. She was in the ICU for six weeks.. she was a sick little girl….but she had the fight inside herself to survive. It was born into her and she wore it well.
I think the thing we forget…is all of these moments in our life…these simple moments… are gone in the blink of an eye…so do not waste them….be with the one you truly love and give them your everything….
growing pains…
I remember being a little girl. Moments that I hold with gentle reverence.
I remember my sister. I remember how we use to sleep bum to bum and toe to toe in a twin size bed. I remember how we whispered our wishes and hopes and dreams to each other in the stillness of the night. We had our own beds, in our own rooms but we could not suffer be apart from one another…… even in our sleep.
We ate our lunches together, I would make her sit in the bathroom while I took baths and talk to me or read to me. I watched her face as she slept, this little sister of mine and I loved her well. We took walks together and laughed together and knew each others hearts.
We grew up and got married and I am ashamed to say that we have grown apart, I do not know her anymore. My sister, the other half of my heart, is now far away and I cannot feel her anymore except in the reaches of my memory. But I find her there, when I see a rose bush bursting with yellow efflorescence, or smell rain falling quietly outside my bedroom window……I can close my eyes and roll over and almost have her there, laying beside me as she did all those many nights when we were children.
Relationships are such fickle creatures. It is so hard to remember that we are all just people, that we are all just doing the very best that we know how to do. That really no one has it easier then anyone else, each has their own heartache to endure. I think we are so quick to jump on one another, to point out failings and let words fall from our lips heavy with judgement.
Often times in the wee hours of the mornings I call and talk to my mother. My mother, who’s voice can carry through the miles and still wrap around me and succor me in my hearts most broken moments. We talk about life, and sadness and joy and loss.
My mother is the one who found my husbands body. She found him laying there on the cold dirty floor of the garage and she kissed his head and said the words, “Oh Alan.”
Then my mother had to call her child, her little girl, and tell her that her husband was gone and that her life was never going to be the same.
When my thoughts carry me to that day and that last moment spent with Alan, I stand there in my mind,and I can see my mother, sitting beside him holding his head and loving him for me. Loving him for us all.
Along with the gift of life, and the gift of courage, and the gift of fearlessness she gave to me the gift of being my surrogate and loving my husband for the very last time. As long as I live I will be indebted to her for that gift.
Growing up is painful. Just as the caterpillar is swaddled safely in its cocoon it must hurt to break free and transform into a beautiful butterfly. It would be much more comfortable to remain the safety of what is known and I am sure that some do. Some remain and die in the confines of this perceived safe haven, and never know the feeling of dancing on the wind ablaze in glorious color, to frightening seems the task of fighting things that are unknown.
We are the same. Some will find their little piece of comfort and remain. Some will always fight change, will take the challenges that inevitably will come and feel picked on.
Yet others will be handed some of the most distressing tragedy’s, will rise up. Though it hurts, and almost makes you forget how to breathe, just like the caterpillar some will fight free of the cocoon and fly up to meet the sun. And I hope that is me.
Some relationships in my life I mourn. I struggle with everyday because even when they are not where they ought to be…. the love….the love remains.
You hope the people in your life rise to the occasion for one another, you pray that they will be there when you are done twirling around and finally fall to the ground. But if they are not….maybe it is up to us, sometimes relationships need a hero. Someone to step up and say “it does not matter what was done in the past,” to simply say “I love you”….and take their hand in yours and know that is enough.
I suppose the greatest gift Alan gave me when he died was new eyes. New eyes that see the world in a completely different way. Eyes that see people for who they really are and eyes that see what is truly important in this life.
I did not get to tell him goodbye. I did not get to thank him for loving me, and giving me 16 beautiful years. I did not get to look at him and tell him I was proud to be his wife…those moments slipped away. I haven’t called my sister and told her how much I love her and how much I miss the soft curl of her smile. I don’t tell my mother how much she means to me and how many times she has saved my life…..but each day I try harder to remember. Take the time…..to let the people in my life know, really know that I see them, I feel them and I am grateful for them.
The lessons I have learned and continue to learn are that I apologize if I hurt a heart or cause pain, I stand up and acknowledge if I make a mistake and I own it. Try with all that I am to make it right. I do not place blame on anyone, that one has been hard, I will tell you. It is much easier to justify things if the blame falls upon someone else….but in the end I choose what effects me and what does not, which is the greatest gift of all.
I am not perfect. I have many things in my life yet to heal, but I see them, I acknowledge them and I long to make them right.
Life is so fast. One minute we are here wrapped up in petty things such as houses, and fancy cars, and vacations and money, that is all we see sometimes.
And those are the moments that we all need to slow down, take a breath and think back to a time when we were children and our greatest happiness was laying in bed wrapped up in our sisters arms and then simply……smile on.
I should have been at……..Rydell High.
School.
School after 20 YEARS.
All I could think about it was…..”what if I can’t find my classes, what if I forget my locker combination, what if they make me wear stinky old gym clothes, what if I trip on my oxygen tank while I am running down the hall late to class?”
School was like WAY TO MUCH PRESSURE.
I was barely figuring out how to balance a checking account, and what a utility bill was and how to run my thermostat in my house (which for the record had so many buttons on it, I was convinced that when I adjusted the heat I was recoding the launch system to fire our Nations nuclear weapons at like Canada or something.)
My dear friend Rich had been mentoring me through this whole going back to school idea.
(Now I have to tell the truth here…..”mentoring” rather makes it sound like I was on board with the idea of going back to school and that Rich and I were sitting down having calm, adult, thought invoking discussions about my education).
It went a little more like this…..
Rich…….”Lisa, you need to go back to school and continue your education.”
Me…….”Are they going to make me take a TEST? (said with HUGE crazy eyes!!!!!?)”
Rich…..”Just a placement test…no big deal” (for the record he LOVES that phrase….”No big deal”….No big friggin deal if you are brilliantly smart like he is….but for the rest of us who pass out and require CPR when handed an algebra question….its a PRETTY DAMN BIG DEAL…..)
So after he got me to unplug my ears and stop singing Many Had A Little Lamb over and over while rocking and bobbing my head, I agreed to go get the application. NOT sign up for classes, NOT take any test, and NOT even talk about it….just ride to the school get the application and go home.
The Morning comes that Rich was to take me to the school to get the application and I wake up and it is a BLIZZARD outside, old man winter had staged his finest assault and I am thanking Jesus and Alan and any other dead relative who made going to get the application that day IMPOSSIBLE!!!!
I called Rich and said, “Hey man, I am SO BUMMED that we do not get to go today, the weather being so bad and all.” (all while doing the happy dance all around my living room.)
He then said, “What are you talking about, I will be there at 11:00 a.m.”
“No way Rich, the weather is WAY to dangerous to go out in….and I am not willing to risk your life or MY life, which is a little more relevant to me, just to get a stupid school application. “
My dear friends response? “Lisa that may have very well worked in the 1800’s but I drive a LEXUS GX470 and we will be fine. See you at 11.” Click. (and you bet your little ass there was a click…..the boy was smart enough to know NOT to let me get another word in edge wise).
So 11:00 comes and the door bell rings and I IGNORE IT. I did. I will say it….I IGNORED It! Then my front door opened (I was not smart enough to lock him out) and in walked Rich, laughing!!!!, YES LAUGHING his ASS off…….
He grabbed me and man handled me all the way to the car screaming at me to get it together. ( It really did not happen that way but Rich will be mortified that I wrote that and Rich is like a brother to me and when is it ever NOT appropriate for the older, funnier and more good looking sister to take a swipe at her little brother? ) (ummmmmm NEVER.)
We walk into the school and looked for the admittance desk and waited our turn. So right here you have to know that I am TOTALLY eyeing up the lady behind the desk. There is something a little off, not enough that you would know she had mental problems, but just enough to make you stare a little longer then is probably socially acceptable.
I sit down and she gives me my application and I begin to fill out the questions. I get done and call Rich over to have him look over it to make sure I did not accidentally sign up to have my organs harvested immediately and donated to the science department.
When I passed Rich’s scan though of my application, I handed it to the STILL questionable woman on the other side of the table. She mumbled something while rooting through her pockets pulling out about fifty pens and having a conversation with her stapler the entire time.
Now hopefully you know me well enough by now that I am an elitist. I secretly, or not so secretly believe that I should only have to deal with people who have more expertise then me (which for the record there are not many of you out there)…and I was quite certain this little muffin was not even made out of the same kitchen that I was.
She takes my application and reads it over and then says, “Okay everything looks in order, you will just need to meet with the lady who handles our non-resident students.”
I whip my head around and look at Rich who had eyeballs the size of small planets and then looked back to her.
“Excuse me?” ”Why would I have to meet with a non-resident person when I was born and raised in Utah”
To which she smugly repleid…”You did not mark the residency box.”
I told her to give me back my paper so I could mark it and she held it close to her chest and turned away from me and said, “No. you did not mark it and you can’t have it back.”
Needless to say at this point Rich had to tackle me and throw me to the ground as I attempted to scale the desk and choke this woman to death. I was seething. Rich was frantically doing the hand cut signal to his throat meaning “abort abort”, while whispering as quietly as he could “She is challenged, she is challenged!!!”
And all I could think about was….. these are the ya-whoo’s who are going to be teaching and grading me……Oh MAN!
One last part of the application process was that I was required to take a test online….to rate what my expectations for college and for my professors would be…..I sat down that night and took the test and guess what…HIGE SURPRISE……the result came back with a hearty….”you have absolutely NO BUSINESS! going back to college.” I called Rich in tears….”I am retarded, I knew it!! I should be working behind the front desk at that school not attending classes.”
I called Jennifer and told her about the assessment and how the good news was I was going to get a sticker so I could park my car closer at stores,the bad news she would be supporting me the rest of her life and if she was not to keen on having a girlfriend she had damn tootin skippy better get over that real fast. She began to ask me about the questions. There were not right or wrong answers on the quiz, it was a rating system. 1 being the best and 5 being the worst. There was silence on the other end of the phone and then……
Jennifer BURST INTO FITS OF OUT OF CONTROL LAUGHTER and she then called me a dumb ass. I was so confused. Then she asked me….”Lisa….did you answer all the questions with either a 1 or a 5? And I said of course I did. (I NEVER feel middle of the road about anything….I love it or Hate it…its a 1 or a 5…….2,3,4 are for annoying people who can’t make up their minds.)
After she mocked me for a good 15 minutes I took the test again and LIED that I felt so so about some of the issues and then got the results that said….”Good for you…you are ready for college.”
The first day of class found me standing on my front porch holding my new backpack with my best friend Jennifer there taking pictures of me just the way my mother did when I left for my first day of school all those many years ago.
I love school, love my classes, until in the middle of my Psychology Class, I came to the horrible realization that I did not know what to do if I needed to use the bathroom….So I am frantically calling Rich to ask…..
“Do you raise your hand to ask to use the restroom?” ”Do they have a big key cut out that they give you that serves a a hall pass?” ”Do you have to sign out somewhere?”…….
Little sucker was laughing so hard that the only words I heard from his mouth were……
“PLEASE tell me you raised your hand in COLLEGE and asked to use the bathroom PLEASE!”……
followed by unrestrainable FITS of laughter………and a heartfelt “you are the BEST entertainment!”
So happy I can oblige you all.
Denny…..Denny Crane.
Six months after Alan’s silent escape I found myself looking square into a future that was as stable as a newlyweds first batch of jello…..over watery at best. I had to decide what I was going to do with this napalm sodden thing I called my life.
I had to go to Salt Lake and meet with a high powered prosecuting attorney. His office building was in down town Salt Lake and at arriving at the foyer and seeing the magnitude of the place I was pretty sure God was back in one of the back offices somewhere pining over the matters of the world. Solid gold and marble as far as your eyes could see.
So after a good ten minutes of trying to break off one of the solid gold light switches (hell I could have made 100 grand if that damn thing would have just given way) they ushered me back into the conference office.
Now I have to tell you I was hoping for a little Denny Crane and Alan Shore…a smoke out of the balcony as we discussed my punishments and then to have my ass grabbed on the way out as payment…..
But NOOOOOOOOO…..I got Gene Hackman from the FIRM!! I am a betting woman…… and I would bet my finest pair of Michael Kors heels that man, this giant in our state, did not even smile at the BIRTH OF HIS CHILDREN.
So they sit me down at this HUGE mahogany table (and I should be scared out of my ever loving mind, but me being a little conspiracy loving, was kind of excited to see what they were going to do to me.
So this group on men walk in and ALL sit on the opposite side of the table from me….(maybe they heard, that although I am a little thing I am scrappy).
They sit and get out their notebooks and pens and then just like a miniature line of dominos, out come their little recorders…like synchronized swimmers they set them down on the table in the wave formation. (I secretly wondered if there was mandatory practice periods before meetings so someone does not prematurely set their recorder down.) (Rather impressive in a Chitty Chitty Bang Bang kind of way.)
So the questions began. “Lisa, did you know about your husbands dealings?” “Lisa did you know about the bank loans?” “Lisa were you aware that you and your husband are the major contributers to the national debt?” “Lisa do you know how much wood can a wood chuck chuck if a wood chuck could chuck wood?” ( they did not ask that last one, but hell they might as well have).
I listened and honestly was fighting with every bit of my soul to hold back the tears and not fling myself onto their 25,000.00 table and roll around on top of it wailing and drooling. But I sat there and listened and when they finally gave me a chance to respond……
I simply leaned forward in my chair and put my hands on the table and said, “Boy’s….before I answer any of your questions all I want to know is….are they going to re-open Guantanamo Bay Cuba just for me, and if they do…..do I get a choice of wall paper?”
Needless to say they did not know quite how to respond to that. So they asked me the questions again…..
“Did you know about your husbands dealings?” I responded with….”Until a week ago I did not know the salt for your soft water unit in your house was not Morton’s in the little blue containers.”
“Did you know about the bank loans?” I responded with…..”I did not know that I did not have to buy a pack of gum every time I needed cash…that there are these magic little machines called ATM’s that you type in this little pin number and it gives you money”
“Did you knowingly participate in these so called “liar loans?” ……to which I responded…..”YOU CALLIN ME A LIAR?!!?!?!??” oh wait…no……I get it….”Liar LOAN”
“No.”
After a good hour or so of this I saw the little lights in their massive craniums go on and they realized they were dealing with a little girl who was 35 years old and who know ABSOLUTELY SHIT about her life.
They turned and huddled and talked in the low voices that you only hear in hospital rooms when Doctor’s are trying to figure out how to break it to you that you are DOOMED…..
They turned back to me (I was a little disappointed that they did not all put their hands in the middle and yell “Break” like they do in football….In my opinion it would have been WAY MORE DRAMATIC…..but hey I am all about the drama.
So they proceeded to tell me that I would have to most likely speak with someone from the FBI and that I needed to be prepared. You know my eyes GOT HUGE when they said that…. partly because I was scared and MOSTLY because that is kind of exciting….
Then they told me I was going to have to meet with the U.S. Attorney General to talk about the loans…..
My response to that question….”Is he single? ….with a giant smile on my face.
The meeting ended with me asking if little black choppers were going to be flanking my every move….they laughed and said no. I suppose at this point I had won them over….
After all how could you POSSIBLY feel anything but pity for a housewife from Logan Utah who is kinda excited she got to have government interrogation tactics used on her…..
really.
