Do I know you?

I got a email today that was from a friend who usually only sends the "fwd" ones. Typically they are good though and as I was reading it, it backed up exactly what I was thinking about for the past few days. Below is a phrase on the email that was sent to me.

There are four things you can not recover.
The stone...after the throw.
The word...after it's said.
The occasion...after the loss.
The time...after it's gone.

I always try and think of what is going on in someone else's life...walk in their shoes if you will. It's makes you think twice about how you would react to a word or action. For instance over Christmas I selected a family for 12 days of Christmas that I saw as an amazing family and even though I didn't know them very well and they were not a family I would probably associate myself with I knew just how much they needed to know that they were a great family. In fact earlier I judged them too quickly. In the beginning of the school year scouts had just began and it was orientation night. One family stuck out like a sore thumb, the mother had no control over her children and she was loud and didn't seem to care that people were watching her yell at her kids with no care. She appeared to be a horrible mother. All the while the father sat there like he saw or heard none of this.
I later found out her son is autistic, she is just a loud spoken person by nature and a wonderful person around kids. She has a very creative touch and is the first to step up, volunteer and give a helping hand.

I will always remember the actions of a complete stranger, who I will always remember and who left a mark in my mind. It is quite an eye opener what humans will do for others.

* The teenage girl in the grocery store:
I was a young mother with my first newborn child. Our house needed groceries bad, I ventured to the store and spent way to long up and down the aisles so when it came time to pay for the groceries my young newborn had had enough of his car seat and was screaming at the top of his lungs. He was my first and I didn't want people staring at me, let alone I couldn't stand to see him suffer. I struggled to bag my groceries and sooth him the best I could, I felt as if the people in the line behind me were frustrated with the situation too... I was embarrassed and just wanted out of there. Then up comes a girl without saying much to me she starts bagging my groceries, I smile gratefully and was able to calm my child down. The girl's mother came up to her daughter because they were done with their needs in the store and she instructed the daughter to come with her. The daughter simply explained that she was helping me and that her mom could help to. I watched her mother set the pizza down and help her daughter with my groceries. I couldn't believe it! I cry to this day to think of the selfless act of that girl, who no doubt impressed me,her mother and the others around her to help someone in need. I am sure she has NO idea how much I appreciated that and still 9 years later she still has an impression on me.

Flashback

I still remember every detail like it was yesterday, and when I say his name I still can not say it or talk about him without crying.
Death is a weird thing, well maybe not weird, but it is so unknown and there is alot of grey areas. When someone close to you dies you know there were bad or not-so-great moments that you experienced with them or heard them telling you, but when they are no longer around, you can only think of how amazingly wonderful that person was, all the good, selfless acts, the hugs, laughs and comfort of knowing they were around.
It was February 18th, 2006 at 1:30 in the morning my doorbell rang. I was in a dead sleep and not even my dog barked. I sprang out of bed instantly grabbed my bat and went to the front door. I had someone in my bed that wasn't suppose to be there and in the back of my mind I was wondering what he was doing. I mean who else knocks at your door at 1:30AM? I look through the peep hole and asked who it is. "Tualatin Police Department" I slowly open the door to see just one police officer at my door. I knew they were not there for 'him'. The officer apologizes for waking me and announces that I have a family emergency as he hands me a small piece of paper with a name and number on it. My heart sank I knew what it was... I must have done something as I heard him say those words as he asked me if I was going to be okay and if I needed him to stay why I made the call. I stuttered and scrambled to go for my phone... .mumbling to myself questioning why they didn't call me, I have a phone why didn't they call me? The officer said he didn't know and asked again if I was going to be okay. I told him I needed to go to my phone and quickly shut the door. I ran back to my room to find him standing in my closet behind the door with his hand over the dogs mouth as to not cause attention. He kept asking me what they wanted, solely out of concern for himself at that moment. "it's bad, I just know it... it's my dad". I didn't officially know it because the piece of paper had one name and one number on it. Nancy. She was my brothers wife. So it could have been anyone in my family.

A thousand things were racing through my mind as I drop to the floor by the wall to reach for my cell phone it was only a few feet from my bed and I was still wondering why I had not heard it. I looked at the screen. 5 missed calls, 3 new voice mails. Shit! This is bad.
I call Nancy, she has a very soft spoken, sweet voice, but I couldn't hear any emotion come out of her voice. She tells me to call my moms cell phone. I hang up and quickly start dialing my mom and the guy who shouldn't be there is standing in the corner still asking me what is going on. I don't answer him.
The phone picks up, the first thing said was my name. and not like a are you sitting down way of saying someones name, but a where the hell have you been way.
I just tell him to tell me. "it's dad" .... I know its dad just tell me! I scream at him."dad died". I drop, my whole body drops, my phone drops, I can't sink far enough to the floor... I'm numb and in shock, then suddenly tears. So many tears as I try and listen to my brother tell me what happened. "J is coming to get you, he should be there soon. We tried getting ahold of you, but finally we decided we needed to have the police come and make sure you were okay too." I don't know why I didn't hear my phone?!!I kept repeating this. right then I feel arms across me, he doesn't know what to do, but he has never seen me cry like that... He just tries to hold me.
I get off the phone with my brother and listen to the voice messages on my phone. I can hear the panic in my brothers voice and I can hear a lot of activity going on in the back ground. I learned later that all that noise was the EMT's working on my dad. The last 2 messages were both my mom, broken up, I couldn't get all the details, but she was trying to give me updates and pleading with me to call her.
My brother is at my door. I grab him and he holds me tight as we cry in each others arms. He notices out of the corner of his eye that "he" is there. I try and explain, but it wasn't the moment nor was it important anymore. I have my makeup bag (I know vain) and my bible. Its funny the things a person thinks to get at a time like that. I had no need for either. I get in my brothers car and "he" is driving behind us in mine. My brother is listening to Enya. I didn't know what to say, I asked him for more details, he tells me he was there when dad dropped and how he went fast. My brother tells me he brought dads phone and he wants me to open it up. the picture on the main screen was a picture of me. It was right then I knew why I didn't hear my phone, there was a plan, gods plan maybe, my fathers? I wasn't supposed to know right away. My dad always worried about how much I worried about him and his health.
We arrived at my moms I walk through the door there are quiet looks, some are at "him" with inside inquiries as to why he is there, but nothing is spoken about it. I see my mom sitting on the couch... my fathers oversize ring on her petite finger. His glasses and wallet next to her on the table. It was all to surreal. He isn't going to come down the hallway from the back rooms to greet me. He is gone.
I started cleaning. I cleaned until 730am, then my mother sent me home to rest.

A Fabulous "Wii"kend

We did it... we joined the ranks of the thousands of Harry Potter fans, we stood in line until our legs were going to fall off for the midnight sale of the final book. Kace hasn't read all the books... we have however seen all the movies that are out though and he has been a loving wizard fan for years. Normally I would do my best to wiggle out of such a parent torture as standing in line for hours for a book that was sure to be available during normal muggle hours, but for one great kid, for one special occasion we did it. Kace turned 9 at the stroke of midnight, the minute Harry Potter was flying off the shelves we did a count down for a year older. He received birthday greetings from those around him and it was a great memory for him. We Finally got through the everlasting line and started home at 2am!... yep from 8pm to 2am... I don't think he can ever say I don't love him, that was pure sacrifice for me...as I enjoy my sleep and like to maintain a 9pm bedtime.
The following day we continued the day with "boy-stuff".. playing in the arcade, a game of lazertag and a trip to the pet shop to adore the cute dogs and other things boys think are cool.
I always knew the day I gave up looking for the Nintendo Wii that we would fall upon one to finally own. It just so happened that it made my son feel like his birthday was the luckiest of all. There was a game store next to the pet shop, and they were having a game competition. The boys went in to see if they had any Wii's and of course check out the competition. The store would typically be out of the Nintendo Wii's just like everyone else, but they received a special shipment for this competition and there was 2 left. It didn't take much for the gleam in the eyes of my wonderful boys to do what I knew I had to do. We quickly took home our purchase and have been enjoying it since.
The boys had a great weekend and it was nice to spend some fun time with them. Not to mention feeling like the "coolest" mom ever.

Kace is a great kid. He is sensitive to the feelings of those around him, he loves reading, space, chess, Harry Potter, playing in the water, the color green, building Lego's and leaving his hair long.
yep, I'm a pretty lucky mom too!

5 O'Clock Somewhere

So really it is 3 in the afternoon... A Wednesday at that I might add. This has been a week where I could've used a Friday 2 days ago, sure it is only 2 days away now but it seems like 2 weeks. A few signs I need a vacation....

* Drinking (and looking for a good reason to drink)
* Sneaking out 30 minutes early every day
* taking longer than an hour for lunch
* Going home and having no energy but the craving of my bed

I am spent... the work gets done and love the work I do and the people I work with, I just really want to spend time with my boys, enjoy the "Dog days of Summer" and oh yeah stay up late and sleep in.

So I was staring at a file way to long when a bright idea came over me, why not make it 5 0'Clock! a week ago I was in desperate need of an alcoholic kick... Conveniently located across from my office building is a liquor store (they had a good plan) I decided my lunch would be a *Vanilla Coke*. I am a Vodka girl...

My stash has been left alone...what great co-workers =)
I snuck back to the small kitchenette in the office and slipped a little vanilla vodka in my coke. I'm feeling better already.

Back in the Rain of Things

Its raining today, a little muggy but not too bad and rain is a good change in the middle of summer? I guess anyway.... What other state interrupts your 100 degree weather with cool rain spouts?

So last night I found a box that appeared to be of antique status. I open it up to discover slides... all slides of my mom, her family when she was younger and her father. Her father that died way too soon ... I think she was 5 (I always get the age wrong) but none the less she was young, too young to remember all the butterfly kisses and too young to ever get to experience the daddy/daughter anythings. I have only seen maybe one picture of my biological grandfather before so it was cool to look at these pictures, he loved the outdoors and the pictures in these slides were beautiful, gorgeous scenery so that led into my mom looking up on the Internet some of these places she went to time and time again when she was a child. I saw her sitting on this computer, reading off all these places and showing me pictures..... it made me think about how she would converse with my father about this. She obviously was delighted to share the places she grew up experiencing.

I could at that moment sense her need to want to express more, to maybe sometimes poor her heart out, but to who? She has kept her feelings, her deepest thoughts, fears and expressions pretty much to herself. I don't see her cry it out much, only sometimes she will tell me that she had a rough night or cried at something, but after it was done. I suggested to my mom that she should blog. She is on the Internet a lot and my personal feelings is that she needs to be able to express her feelings in a healthy manner. She claims she doesn't write, but you don't have to be a writer to be a blogger I explained. you simply need something and sometimes nothing to write about. For her she is a widow, her heart left this earth too soon. She misses him more than anyone including myself will ever know. She could write all the things she wanted to get out, ramble if you will. It is healthy and I have read enough blogs to know that it is the sanity piece for most. I showed her mine... okay, so I don't get into the nitty gritty of my life, my inter most thoughts but it doesn't mean I don't want to. I am actually wanting someday to write a book and if I share now then there will be no personal experience ideas for my book :)

I also have a hired, professional quiet room where I go once a week to verbally vomit what ever is on my mind and I am revived, ready to take on the next hour, day, week before the next time I get to experience more crap to vomit out. Thanks for that Michal!

Mom,

I know it is hard to express deep, personal feelings. You don't even have to go there, but I strongly encourage you to experience a bold expression of yourself. Talk about your dog, your grandchildren, and even your pain in the rear grown children :)

I hope anyone who reads this will help me... any comments of support you may have for my mom please leave them.

Will Work For Food
Okay, well I admit I don't even see ones that read that anymore. Most are quite humorous or flat out honest... "why lie I need a beer", really that could be a lie, maybe the holder of that sign knows that the majority of passer-bys are thinking that anyway and what ever it takes to get you the change to buy your next meal.
Lets touch this subject for a minute, I have already hit Immigration so I might as well go down the list... and as a side note, I have never seen a Mexican on the side of the road begging for money... on a street downtown maybe where all the construction businesses know if you need a cheap hand for a day to go pick up one, but they work and work hard if even for that one day because they want that money just like the other 15 or 20 of them standing on the corner with them.

I have never met a true homeless person, I have heard stories that they make bank standing on the corner all day long, but I have never seen a true rags to riches story, and how much is "bank" when you don't have a home? so you need to rent a hotel for a night and eating out all the time because there isn't a home to cook a meal or keep groceries at for that matter.... what is the price it would take to have someone either down on their luck as the saying goes or flat out Lazy get back on their feet to be able to take a shower everyday, have a full time working job, a place to rent and transportation?... that isn't something anyone can establish overnight.
So lets just put it out there if you don't like them doing it, leave your window rolled up, don't look at them, don't give them your spare change and continue to drive on by. it isn't like he is standing in front of your house asking YOU specifically to give it to him.

I have spare change, and even a few dollar bills hanging around solely for this purpose. I don't care if they are going to take my one dollar to go get high, if they are going to do it, they are going to find a way to do it. I'm not god and I am not the ultimate judge come judgement day. I can only give a little something of what they dont have. Did you ever think what it takes for a person to stand on a corner and lose their pride, to be humiliated in the thoughts of those passing them. I have my comfortable heated/air conditioned car and house with a yard for my kids to play in, food to feed us and the comfort of knowing where my next check not to mention meal is coming from.
I always wonder what gets them to the point where they have become homeless, was it an addiction (of any sorts) or were there circumstances that spiralled in a negative affect. The saying is it takes anywhere from 6 months to a year to fully recuperate financially from a month of no pay/ no work. so imagine that month after month. And sure there are resources that can support and help the homeless, but when you think about the numbers there is never enough. Even if someone thinks it would be easier to stand on a street corner, I would guess that once they ventured out to try it, they would discover the grass wasn't any greener.
This is soley my thoughts and opinion, I guess that is what makes being human such a great experience, but for those of you who sit back and think this world is falling apart and there is nothing anyone can do about it... your wrong. The little things do help.

Follow the Leader

Okay so I am going to do what everyone else with a blog is doing...writing about the 4th. Lame I know, but you don't have to read this...
I enjoyed the day for the most part, initially I was bitching because it was in the middle of the week, but really yesterday put a good break in this week. I did exactly what I have been dying to do... spend time with my family.
I busted out my cleaning skills, put the house in tiptop shape so others think I actually live like Monica from the tv show Friends. I was ready to host. Then the door opened and it all disappeared. My oldest sister has 3 girls and 1 boy, they are commonly known as the rat pack in my family. Ripping through the house and leaving disaster where ever they have been. I was filling up some water balloons for the kids and my brother grabbed some of the ones that were filled and announced he was going to "peg" the rat pack. A few minutes later Kace my oldest comes to me wanting more... I hand off the newest batch of readied balloons. Once I was done filling them all (and the demand was greater than supply) I went to join in this wet war. My niece, who is old enough to know they may have been more in numbers were not superior to the agility of the grown ups, hands me her last balloon... it was then I knew what I needed to do. I stand on the porch, pretending to be a spectator, my brother takes a break a few yards away. I make my mark and I was more on target than I think I ever wanted to be. Now even though the throw felt good and the fact that I pegged him so perfectly on the side of his face, I felt horrible. The water balloon carried so much force that it knocked his glasses off his face and I quickly felt a deep burning go thru my body. It was the glare from my brother, crap, I was screwed. I looked for a safe cover, there was no way I was out running him and even though I gained a little ground for defending the kids I was now in direct fire of this. All I could find was my mom, it was going to have to do... I hid behind her like a little child scared of a relative coming to give kisses, it worked out okay I ended up with water down my entire back, but I saved my face from the equal revenge I just gave my brother and that was good enough for me.

My brother carries the male stereo type in ever degree, fireworks was one of them. He loved them and had to have a lot of them... So we compared and shared. Kace is more of a mellow child and looking at family pictures or reading is just as entertaining if not more than fireworks, but Cris was a mini me to my brother, walking around with a lit punk in his hand... lighting them in his hand and them throwing them, over-all he was fairly safe and acted fairly mature about the handling of the fireworks. Between my brother and Cris though I was exhausted and happy when we were out.
Yesterday truly was a great and enjoyable day.

Mental Break or just a break down?

When does life become so overwhelming that one just feels they have gone over the limits? Or knows what ones limits are for that matter... just when you feel like you can not handle anymore or go any further, something manages to pull it or make it go that extra bit but the feelings are that things are not moving forward. I'm stuck... the stress has bubbled over. I sat back through the beginning of this year thinking I just needed to get through the school year with the kids, that I just needed the summer break to breath and slow down, But every time I am turning around I have more and more over filling this cup of responsibility.

Michal asked me Friday what I was doing for me... I can come up with quick little blurbs of I went out and drank for a bit with a friend, or I got my hair done... but I knew what he meant.
Nothing, was my response.. I have done nothing for me. I have been taking off every other weekend when the boys go to their dads, I take a small overnight road trip to stay in a hotel with no contact, no responsibilities...just being spontaneous and doing things at whim. It is short lived though and the next day it is all over and hardly a memory is left standing when I return to the constant needs of those around me.

I felt as if I was going crazy this weekend, like I was officially losing it. I saw all my sanity and reasoning flash in front of me... I wanted to grab it... pull it back and get my self together but it was scrambled, going all over the place. I couldn't make it happen. I don't want to answer my phone, I don't want to email a friend, I don't want to talk to anyone. I am so independent I want to take all this garbage in... process it, sort through it and get it together... I feel as though I am officially losing it. I know I need to do something for myself, something where the stress and the worries will subside enough for me to regain the strong ground I had, to feel in control again and sort through things issue to issue.
This is an obvious sign I need a vacation from the very demanding job, and to spend time with my boys who are only getting older. I can only think of the song "Cats in the Cradle" by Harry Chapin. How true it is, and after losing my dad do those words have more affect than ever.