You are currently browsing the monthly archive for December 2014.

The start of August sent my family on an all out sprint. There were a lot of great things and a lot of tough things but the most ccertain thing is that we all met the moments head on and with good intent in our heaerts

The truth is that I’ve been bone tired for awhile now.

December 26th was the start of binging on some self-care. We woke up the morning after Christmas and piled into the car. The three of us headed east to the water, barely warmer temperatures, and no plan. We walked along the beach, the guys tried out their Christmas headlamps, and we watched a LOT of American Ninja Warrior. Chores were put on hold, obligations set aside for aspirational work, normal concepts of nutrition set aside for the golden rules of Cheesy, Fried, and Overpriced.

It was glorious and I love my guys.

Next up – the week between Christmas and New Years. We have built in some fun for Jeff and work time for Dave & I but the mornings are a glut of self-care. I’m going to binge on the gym because I miss it but can’t figure out how to go right now. I’m also (shhhh) binging at the local spa because I would love to turn my head to the left some day.

January 1 is going to come on fast and this semester is dense with new things for everyone. I’m going to do what I can to be ready. I’m going to rest, eat well, get help where I need it, and laugh every chance I can.

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I say, “I love you, good night”

Jeff says, “ok”

He sometimes will say “I love you” but mainly he doesn’t. His dad used to do that too but in the last few years has come to understand how much I enjoy the words too.

It took me a long time to notice that when Dave built something he was talking about how much he loved me, or us, or Jeff.

Sitting at dinner the other night I posed the question of what each of our imaginary restaurants might be like.

Jeff shows his love most of all in imaginary future states…

He has promised me a Dunkin Donut franchise on the corner of my street with a direct bridge from our house.

He has promised that his imaginary restaurant menu would have choices for Dave to eat from.

He banks on the future when he is bigger and has more power and he fills that future with things that he knows we love. He knows we love it because he listens to us, and he builds a world full of of it because he loves us.

I can record him saying “I love you” someday (if he’ll let me) but I would never trade the sound of those words for the desire to fill a future with the beautiful, shiny, trinkets of the things he knows about his parents.

Dunkin Donuts and making U-Turns can be a joke forever because they become the stories of who his mom is and all the ways she stuck love in every corner of her life that she could fit it in.

With a caffeine buzz about a month ago, I sat down to write an email….

Dixie,

I came to your party in September and had a wonderful time. That meant a lot to me because I was at a lung cancer conference while my dad was fighting lung cancer so the laughter was so very important to me that night.

I’ve kept my catalog and I keep thinking about those bowls that flatten so they don’t use up all my dishwasher space but now I can’t find them.

I’m trapped between a highly entertaining show and actually wanting those bowls for me and loved ones. Can you help?

I hit send and the email went off to … an actor? a drag queen? a tupperware woman?  I honestly wasn’t sure.  I was sure I wasn’t the first person to write to Dixie an email in a state of complete confusion about my deep and lingering attraction to her wares.

Dixie is all of those things, and along with being hysterically funny is just a nice person.  The email volley took awhile, tours and memorials took up November for both of us.  Never too long between emails and logistics, addresses and paypal.  Today the bowls arrived.  They are just as Dixie told me they would be.

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That Saturday evening I wandered the surprisingly pretty Pittsburgh all on my own.  I saw the sign for the show about 30 minutes before curtain.  I had a cabaret table to myself, until I didn’t and was sharing it with three friends who were having a girlfriends night and thought I made a strange but pleasant enough addition.   I roared with laughter.  It was a great show.  I walked back to the hotel and hung out with people learning everything they could about lung cancer – together.

It was so good.

I spent a lot of time on the phone with my mom the next morning.  I shut down with exhaustion for a couple of days after that. Two weeks later I was doing a sprint trip to see dad.  One of the people from the conference is back in treatment.  One is rocking a cute pixie cut.  Many have worked all through November (which is Lung Cancer Month – not that it gets any traction) working on educating and raising money.  I just made it through November, I traveled safely and gathered hugs where I could.  I said good-bye to dad.

The bowls are here.  They are my crystal candy bowl.  Thank you, Dixie.

Honestly.

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This is inside the waistband of my new pants.

I’m not saying that it is wrong (clearly it is not) but this is not a brand coveted by nervous 16 year old girls.

What part of feminism or the modern world makes it appealing to have your waistband whisper compliments to you while you pee?

What part of waistband compliments add impact and meaning when someone looks you in the eye and says the same thing?

Show me a tie with “Ties are for closers” or “looking sharp today big guy” and I’ll be quiet, but that dumb shit doesn’t exist.