Out of the Maelstrom

The view through my eyes

Just recently, I have returned from a wonderful trip to Nevada. I stayed with my mom, but was able to spend a lot of time with my sister and two beautiful nieces. I was able to hang out with my brother, Kevin and spend an afternoon and evening with my brother Dan and his wonderful family. 
And, even though my father is gone from this world, I got to spend time with him as well. In the still of early morning when everyone was asleep or gone to work, I would glide my hand across his collection of books and smile and read the titles. I loved that The Art of War sits right next to his cookbooks which sit right next to chess books, books about martial arts and how to coach wrestling. When I was sure that nobody was looking, I would peek inside his armor. I saw more books stacked - books on poker, management and knives. I pulled open a drawer and saw his business cards, a ring he had since childhood, coins, and little bits and pieces of life from a man I knew my whole life...a man I didn't get to know long enough.

As I carefully sifted through little things, I felt as if I was about to hear him ask, "May I help you?" (he never liked nosy kids to go through his stuff) so I shut the drawers and drifted away to another part of the house. I even found his finger prints, just barely visible, on a plastic jar of Italian Seasoning. I knew they were his because of their size, and also that nobody else in the house would know what to do with Italian Seasoning.

That has been my life for the past year or so. I have tried to make sense of it all. I have cried. I have burned images and conversation deep into my memory and retold them several times to my children in hopes that they will help me remember these things someday when I am old.

But, then one night, everything changed. My mom, sister and I went to see John Edwards. We didn't have a lot of expectations. There was no reading guaranteed. We didn't tell many people because we didn't want to hear anything from nay-sayers. We just wanted a Girls' Night Out and if Dad was out there, we knew he would find us. And, well, he did. We were one of the last people that John chose out of an audience without any kind of assigned seating. He was sure of himself and told us things that were accurate, precise, and honestly, mind blowing! Some of the things John Edwards said, appeared to even shock him. And, unless you knew my father, you would be thinking, "WTH?!?" Let's just say that my dad didn't always find it necessary to be PC. But, he was fair and made fun of every group of people imaginable. John Edwards said that my dad brought up certain things that he knew would make a huge connection for us and let us know that it was indeed him. It did make that connection and we know he is out there and that he sees us and is OK. John told us and the audience that "They're OK" (meaning our loved ones who have passed over) but that it is us that aren't OK. I get it.

The morning after I woke up and felt better than I have felt in more than a year. The only way I can explain it is to say that it is like we are all on this fabulous island having a great time, and we turned around and noticed that Dad was gone. When we asked around, we found out that a ship came, had him board and sailed off with him to another far away island. We were confused, sad, and angry. We were told he wasn't coming back and that he is just fine. The ship is  coming back for us too. Don't know when exactly, but it will be back. Our choice is to stand on the dock with sad faces and wait and worry, or we can explore the rest of the island, party, be good and kind, make memories and be satisfied that we'll see him again. That is my choice.

And, so did I tell you about the Mardi Gras party I am planning? It's going to be a good, good time.

 

 

lessons and love

 

Today marks the one year anniversary of losing Daddy. I remember the morning so well. It was the first morning I had felt relief in a long, long time. We had closed on our house just ten days before, sailed through Chanukah and Christmas doing our usual last minute shopping and wrapping and cooking and baking. That morning, it was a Sunday, I felt like I had  caught up on sleep and was ready to move on to New Year's Eve, and wrapping up plans to go to Orlando with my parents in January.

I have written, this past year, about how it all went down and cannot bear to replay the memories one more time. During the past year, I have learned that that is a way to torture myself. I have learned to stop making myself hurt with the minute by minute account of that day. There are other lessons that I have learned this past year:

1) The Importance of Family - I always knew it, but now know it at a much deeper level. My family has always been insanely close. Crazy close. We're not perfect. We fight sometimes. We argue a lot! We laugh. We laugh so much and so hard that we cannot breathe. We laugh until the muscles in our backs spasm and our throats are sore. We laugh because we are laughing. It sometimes goes on for so long that we are unable to breathe, or see because of our eyes watering. Our ribs feel cracked and bruised. It is one of my mom's rules for marriage: "If you've never laughed like that with the person you are going to marry, don't marry them." It is because of my family that I knew that we could go on as much as it hurt to do so.

2) The Importance of Knowing Who Your Friends Are: I am a "People Pleaser". Anyone who really knows me isn't too surprised. I like to make people happy. All people. I even fantasize, when I am in the check out line at the grocery store, about telling the person in front of me that I will pay for their groceries. Just because it would make them happy. I really, really like doing things to please my friends and family. I have done this to my own detriment time and time again. I have stayed friends with the high maintenance chick who bores me to death with her "Mama Drama" because I feel sorry for her or think I can help her. During this past year, I have learned that those people are the ones that were not there for me. And, I don't mean they had to be like the group of women who were over here taking down my holiday decorations, filling my fridge with food, bringing me flowers and cards, calling me daily. I mean that they didn't even acknowledge my loss in anyway that was heartfelt or genuine. And, ya know what? That's OK. It really, really is. It helped me grow up. It helped free up my schedule. I no longer open my door to just anyone. My time, energy and resources are limited. I bear no ill will. I just am being more protective of my heart. It's a selfpreserving kind of thing.

3) Live Life with No Apologies and No Regrets: My dad knew how to live life. He lived large. He read a lot. He loved a good vocabulary and a well written book. He loved his children with passion. He was fierce and fearless. He loved my mom. He really, really loved her. Oh, he had his moments of being irritated with each of us, but the best part about my dad was that he didn't hold grudges. I can also guarantee that if I could ask my dad if he had any regrets or wished that he could have done anything over, he would have emphatically said, "No!" He believed that everything, even poor decisions or bad judgement served a purpose especially if a lesson was learned from it.

My soul has grown a lot this past year. I find myself more patient with the friends and family that I love. I find myself more tolerant of quirks and personality patterns that are so unlike my own. I have slowed down a little so that I can watch hummingbirds and butterflies. When my children are being delightful, I stop and give them my full attention so I can take it all in. I want to memorize it and embrace all the moments of good. And, there are, oh, so many moments of good. I have allowed myself to get lost in my memories because my dad is very much alive in them, and that brings a great source of comfort.

The last thing I have learned to do this year is to accept myself for who I am and who I will never be. Might sound like some long ago skit from Saturday Night Live, but I truly am enough.

So, on this most terrible of days, I will hold my head up. I will be grateful that he was my daddy and he loved me. He taught me how to: throw a strait right ("You don't just try to strike the face, but actually strike like you want to put your fist through their face and have it come out the back of their head", bake chocolate chip cookies, and a homemade Caesar Salad dressing, love and laugh. Most of all, he taught me how to be a great parent. He will live on and on in our hearts and memories, and dreams of tomorrow. I do know that I will see him again and the adventures will continue.

Thank you, Daddy. Thank you for being the greatest dad ever. You are part of me and I will love you from here until forever...

 

 

The Plan

My dad used to say, "You want to know how to make God laugh? Tell him your plans." This time last year my dad was making a plan to get their roof upgraded, and other "fix it" type things. He was planning on retiring with my mom in a few more years, and after a lifetime of having children, raising them and getting them launched, they were going to have time to themselves to do whatever they wanted. That, apparently, wasn't the real plan. It has been almost a year since we lost dad. It sucks as much today as it did a month ago, which is the same as the day that it happened. But, the only thing that is different now is that we can continue to be grateful for our father and the family that he raised.

Tonight, without planning, my siblings and I were all on a video conference call through Skype. It was delightful and fun. We teased and taunted, laughed and laughed. We remembered the good times. We talked about dad. We got choked up. We relived moments that we would never wish on another living soul. We felt thankful. We are thankful that as painful as this is to continue to live with, and we will live with this forever and ever, we are thankful that we had a father that loved us so deeply and truly. His humor and intellect and strength made him such an incredible person. Yesterday, Mom said that she thinks that secretly, we all believe that we were his favorite. It is true. He had the ability to make each of us feel utterly important and treasured. If there was a new interest or a good story we wanted to share with him, he would lean forward, look at us in the eye and listen to every last thing we had to say. He would also tell us when we were full of shit and never tolerated disrespect. Ever. The biggest thing that he taught us was the importance of family. The five of us siblings are very, very close and are in constant contact with each other. We love each others children like they are our own children. We love each others spouses like more siblings.  Tonight, my sister Janine suggested, "Hey, why don't we all just move in together?" In a wry tone I asked, "Didn't we already do that?" Janine said, "Oh, yeah. I guess we did." We all laughed, but believe me, we would all do it in a heartbeat if logistics would be in our favor.

We will find our way through tomorrow. We will eat, make memories and tell stories. Even if we don't want to, we'll do it. We'll do it for Daddy because he wouldn't have had it any other way.

"Salud y pesetas y mujeres con grandes tetas"

I love you, Daddy.

 

Until the world stopped turning...

"A long time ago, in the underground realm, where there are no lies or pain, there lived a Princess who dreamed of the human world. She dreamed of blue skies, soft breeze, and sunshine. One day, eluding her keepers, the Princess escaped. Once outside, the brightness blinded her and erased every trace of the past from her memory. She forgot who she was and where she came from. Her body suffered cold, sickness, and pain. Eventually, she died. However, her father, the King, always knew that the Princess' soul would return, perhaps in another body, in another place, at another time. And he would wait for her, until he drew his last breath, until the world stopped turning... "

Pan's Labyrinth

As we enter into the holiday season, I feel sucked into this vortex of contradicting emotions. I love the holidays because they have always been such a central theme in my family. I started baking and smell the cinnamon and and it transports me through time to a place that was untouched with the heartbreak that I am pretty sure I will live with for the rest of my years.

Next month will be the one year anniversary date of losing Dad. Everybody kept assuring me that it takes a year to get over losing someone. I guess I'm not hysterical anymore. I guess I am moving forward and have plans and dreams for the future.  This Thanksgiving and Christmas will be hard for my family, but we'll make our way through it. Somehow.

...And it is said that the Princess returned to her father's kingdom. That she reigned there with justice and a kind heart for many centuries. That she was loved by her people. And that she left behind small traces of her time on Earth, visible only to those who know where to look.

~Pan

Grandma & Grandpa

 

 

 

It is no surprise to those who know me well that I dread Sundays. Sunday is always a reminder of loss to me. This morning was really no different. I stayed in bed after Ari left for work and kids ran amok throughout the house. I just wanted to sleep and dream of ...well, anything. I'd even take monster dreams, but I usually like those anyway.

The phone rang and I saw that it was Grandma Florie. Grandma is Ari's father's mom. I gulped and prayed that I wasn't going to get any more bad news. Her voice sounded cheerful and warm as usual. I immediately felt comforted and happy to hear her voice. I talked and talked and told her what the latest was in our home, and gave her a few stories about the kids that she could share with her friends and family.

Grandma and Grandpa are incredibly loved and treasured and good, good people. They tend to run a little bit more liberal than I do, but they don't hold that against me. They threw Ari and me the most beautiful wedding at their home in upstate New York and for that we remain forever grateful. We have learned so much from them over the years and we often talk about them being our role models in so many aspects of our lives.

So, Grandma and Grandpa - thank you! Thank you for loving us and your great grandchildren.

Thank you for the laughs, the memories, the wisdom. Your love will remain with us for all of our years and be passed on for generations to come.