There's a Hole in My Soul

There's a hole in my soul. It's because he is gone.

Floyd in his cool camper, enjoying a Malibu breeze.

Floyd died on August 26, 2014. He was 17 years old.

It was the most difficult decision of my life. It was horrible. The day before he was put to sleep, I cried like I never cried before. Once we made the decision, I walked through my office with sunglasses on, made it to my car and sobbed. Really sobbed. That night, I came home and cried some more. Every time I looked at Floyd, I knew it would be the last time. His last dinner. His last bedtime snack. His last . . .

Tuesday morning was surreal. My husband woke up before me. He cleaned out the truck. Made Floyd a bed in the back seat. Punched the directions to the animal shelter into the GPS. And put the shovel in the bed of the truck.

I took Floyd out for his last morning potty. He ate his last egg for breakfast.

Then, we got into the truck for the ride to his resting place. He was born in St. Augustine and he would die in St. Augustine.

We discussed different options. I looked into in-home euthanasia but it just didn't feel right. This isn't Floyd's home - we've only been here for 8 months. So, we decided to do it in our truck. The truck that has been a part of Floyd's life for the last 12 years. The truck that he took on many adventures. The truck that felt like home.

The 90 minute ride went okay. I fed Floyd leftover salmon from the night before. I figured that his last meal should be a good one. For a brief time, he became really anxious. It was bad. It was an acknowledgment from God that it was time. I tried to comfort him. After a while, he became relaxed. He rested his head on his Winnie the Pooh bear.

Then, we arrived. I felt like I would vomit. My husband could not go inside without stopping to compose himself. That moment was awful.

They don't usually euthanize dogs in vehicles. They made an exception after my tear-filled call and my husband's pleading. The two ladies who did it were very compassionate. One of them actually crawled into the front seat of the truck in order to hold Floyd. It took about 15 seconds for the sedative to start working. He became very sleepy and just let go into my husband's arms.

We kissed him and told him how much we love him. I kissed his ears for the last time.

When the ladies came back to administer the last shot, I couldn't watch. I was afraid that Floyd would cry. So, I walked away. I didn't hear any cries. I turned around and saw the anguish on my husband's face. It was pure sadness. He touched Floyd and looked into his eyes when he died. Floyd was not alone. He was loved up until the last breath. He is still loved.

We're not saying loved. We're saying love.

My husband dug Floyd's grave. He is buried at our friend's farmhouse. Horses watch over Floyd. He is buried with Winnie the Pooh and his toy puppy, Charlie. He is wrapped in blankets. There is a cross placed on his back. God is responsible for Floyd. Floyd is with Him. I know this. I feel this.

The space on the living room floor is empty. It's as empty as my heart. It's as empty as my soul. I don't know what to do with his leash. I don't know what to do with the rest of his toys or the cans of Pedigree that are still in the cabinet.

All I know is that I miss Floyd more than I ever could have imagined. I am grateful for the last 17 years but I also would do anything to kiss him again.

This sucks. It sucks really bad. There's a hole in my soul and I'm not sure if it will ever be filled again.

Goodbye, sweet Floyd.

Thank Goodness for Mechanically-Inclined Husbands

I love that my husband is mechanically-inclined (i.e. Mr. Fix It). We were traveling on I-4 about to head into Orlando and our truck started acting funky. The power steering quit working, engine began over-heating and other stuff I don't understand.

My husband knew exactly what it was: some pulley thing that a belt attaches to. The plastic circular thing that is supposed to be part of the pulley had melted. We pulled into a Publix parking lot, my husband took out his toolbox and began figuring things out. Then, we called a cab to take us to an auto part store, paid $42 for the part, rode back to Publix, paid $24 for the taxi, installed the new pulley thing & put the belt back on. We were on our way home less than 30 minutes later.

He was sweaty, since it had been 95 degrees outside, had grease all over his hands and arms and somehow cut himself during the process so the grease was mixed with blood. I was so proud. I'm also thankful for a husband who knows things like this. I feel safe with him and know that we can get through anything.

This little detour reminded me of how important it is to be self-reliant and to know that you can pull through any challenge.

Dog Years Reflections

My dog is almost 17 years old. He only has to make it five more weeks. If he does, he'll be considered to be 119 years old in Dog Years.

Floyd is pretty much blind. I think that he can see some things but I'm not sure what they are. We have to lead him inside from the backyard because he gets lost out there. He also runs into walls and furniture and stumbles over shoes if we forget and leave them in the middle of the floor.

He sleeps a lot. A LOT. He whines more than I like. It's not irritating - it just makes me sad. There are a few things that help him relax. His floor fan is his comfort zone. It's just a cheap $20 box fan and it runs 24 hours per day. He usually sleeps right in front of it. Sometimes, he sleeps so close to the fan that I'm afraid his tail will get stuck inside. The next saving grace is Sara McLachlan or Nora Jones or Adele - any soothing female voice will almost instantly relax him. We also give him Benadryl at night with a little snack - it really helps.

Even though Floyd is blind and losing equilibrium, he still LOVES to eat. He can't eat hard food or dog treats anymore so he gets extra meals. Floyd eats breakfast, dinner and a late night snack. If he cries a lot at night, I also give him a little bowl of milk (this usually does the trick). He will do anything for fish - he gets salmon and tuna for treats and I think that he's in heaven when he does. This morning, when my husband made breakfast, Floyd got his Sunday egg over medium.

Floyd's toy box sits on the living room floor and it is filled with memories. Winnie the Pooh, Scooby Doo, Eeyore, a cow that moos, a small puppy named Charlie and a chipmunk among other stuffed animals. He will sniff his toy box once in a while but no longer plays with his toys. They are patient with him ignoring them and understand that the older you get, the more you just wish to be left alone.

Only pet people can understand how much our pets mean to us. I was 20 years old when I adopted Floyd from the Humane Society. I paid $40 for a family member who I never imagined would be a part of my family 17 years later.

My husband and I talk about Floyd dying. I think it is a way to prepare ourselves for the inevitable. We are thankful that Floyd has had a wonderful life - he was loved and traveled and went on many adventures. I can't imagine my life without him. I know that death is a part of life but it's so difficult to accept.

Until it is his time to go, I will give Floyd as much loving as he can stand. I kiss him and tell him that I love him. I'll do whatever I can to keep him at peace - even if it means stocking up on canned salmon and buying a new fan if this one ever breaks.

Here's a photo of Floyd on vacation many years ago:

Floyd on his first boat. He loved it!

And a recent one at home:

Floyd sleeping in a new spot.

Remembering Grandpa

My grandpa died on March 3. His name was Gerald and he was 89 years old.

Gerald and Dessie with my dad.

I miss him and I loved him very much. I am also thankful that he is no longer suffering from dementia. This sort of grief makes me feel conflicted. I felt this same way when my grandma died in 2010 and when my dad died in 1996. They were all terminally ill so when they died, I felt a sense of relief that accompanied the loss. I don't like feeling this way. It's really confusing.

My grandpa is now with my dad and my grandma. He is home. There was no funeral or memorial. I guess that he didn't want anything and it wasn't my decision to make. This tiny memoir is my memorial to my grandpa. I need to reflect on his life. He deserves to be recognized for being a good man.

Me and grandpa on my wedding day.

Gerald was sort of a quiet man. He was hard working, having retired from General Motors, and provided well for his family. He loved his family and enjoyed being around others. You could tell because he would get a certain look on his face. It was a combination of peacefulness and pride in his family and friends. It was a look of happiness.

Grandma and grandpa.

My grandpa found little things amusing. For one anniversary, my husband and I bought grandpa and grandma a weekend at a bed and breakfast in St. Augustine. They had so much fun. After dinner one evening, we walked them back to their room. The bed was turned down and there were chocolates on their pillows. My grandpa thought the chocolates were condoms. We laughed until our stomachs hurt.

At home in Florida.

He didn't like asking for help. We had a family cabin in Michigan - it was on an island on a lake. One summer, he needed to do some work on the cabin. My husband and I were taking a vacation to Michigan and asked him to wait until we got there so we could help. He didn't wait and ended up falling off of a ladder. He laid outside on the ground for hours before my grandma came looking for him. There's no phone on the island so my grandma had to yell for a fisherman to come pick him up and take him to the hospital.

When my husband and I finally arrived, we still went to the island. My grandpa had no problem getting into the rubber raft at the landing with his walker. He was one of the most determined men I've ever known.

He loved fishing.

He was the only grandpa I knew. I always remember him being there - as a child, a teenager and an adult. We were close - even when I lived across the country, he and my grandma were there for me. He was there for dance recitals, graduations, my move to college, vacations, my dad's death, birthdays and my wedding.

My grandpa and I before a dance recital.

One of the things that I will remember the most about him was his love for my grandma. They were amazing. She used to get frustrated with him and he would just laugh. He would sneak kisses when he thought no one was watching and he simply adored her. I hope that my marriage is as long as theirs. I pray that my marriage is as full as Gerald and Dessie's was.

Love is forever.

Grandpa, you will always be in my heart. I will remember you forever.

Funny Story Monday: My Mom

Since my last post was pretty depressing and the A to Z Challenge is over, I figured that I'd start doing Funny Story Monday posts again.  We all need to laugh right?

When I was in high school, I studied all the time.  I worked on homework for hours and hours every evening.  On one particular evening I was sitting at the kitchen table doing my homework with headphones on.  Listening to music helps me get into the zone and I can tune out most distractions.

I was working hard, listening to music and heard a weird knocking sound.  It was coming from behind me - the wall that bordered the garage.  I couldn't really tell what the sound was because of the headphones.  So, I took them off and heard, not only pounding, but screaming.  It was my mom.

I ran into the garage to find my mom sitting on the washing machine with her butt stuck inside.  She was actually stuck and she was kicking her legs against the front of the washer.  I can't remember if I started laughing or was so embarrassed that I was in shock.  If it were me now, I'd totally be laughing.

Why was she sitting in the washing machine?  Because our neighbor's pet ferret ran into the garage and scared the living shit out of her.  She is terrified of small critters.  It wasn't until somewhat recently that she got over her fear of cats.  A ferret running under her feet in the garage - she just couldn't take it.  I guess that she was trying to get to high ground.  She just didn't consider the outcome of jumping on the washer without closing the lid first.

Tranquility: Reflecting on Presence

Tranquility is important to me.  It is extra important on a day like today.  I was conflicted about my post for today.  April 23 is an emotional day for me as it is both my birthday and the anniversary of my dad's death.  I wrote about my memories of my dad's death during last year's A to Z Challenge and I'm glad that I did.  Click here if you'd like to read it.  This year, I feel like reflecting on my dad's presence, not his death. 



Tranquility on the Bay Front

He was a very calm person.  The kind of person you could just sit next to without feeling obligated to engage in conversation.  It's a bit difficult to describe his presence but I think of words like peaceful, kind, humble, passionate.  He was the sort of dad who you were proud of.  Not for any specific reason but just because he was his own person.   

He was funny.  He would do things that seemed so out of character for him but would make you laugh so hard your stomach hurt.  Once when I was a child, we went to the beach.  I guess that it wasn't planned because my dad didn't have his bathing suit with him.  So, he just stripped down to his bikini underwear.  No big deal.  They looked just like Speedos. 

He loved desserts and would make my sister and I order dessert when we went out to eat, even if we didn't want it.  That way, he could eat them and not feel guilty for ordering three pieces of pie.

When I graduated high school, my parents hosted a big graduation party for me.  My dad catered the party and bought me a really cool graduation dress.  He was really good at planning parties and events.  He even planned my mom's wedding when she married my step-dad.  Both he and my mom made being a child of divorced parents very easy.

I took this environmental education class in high school and one of our field trips was spending a few days in Key West.  I had never traveled without my parents as they were quite protective.  My dad booked a room in Key West during the time that I was there just in case I needed something.  He met us out for dinner one night and I never felt weird about it.  I actually really enjoyed spending time with him and, even then, I appreciated his protectiveness.

Seventeen years ago my life changed.  I experienced my first major trauma the day my dad died.  It seems like forever ago.  I miss him.  I'm happy that I can still remember him.  I still remember his scruffy beard, the way he would hang on to my sister and I at family events to mask his insecurity, the flannel shirts that he would wear no matter what season it was, how he would make my sister and I cover our eyes during scary parts in movies, that he loved his family unconditionally and he connected with God prior to his death.

I know that I am like my dad in many ways.  We share similar personalities and I hope that his presence will stay with me as long as I'm alive.  If I ever have a child, I pray that I am able to share my dad with my son or daughter.  That he or she will know my dad through me.  Remembering him and sharing him with others is how I will keep his presence alive.

*I'm participating in the 2013 A to Z Challenge. Every day in April (except for Sundays) I will be posting according to a letter of the Alphabet. To read more about my theme, click here.



Funny Story Monday: Misunderstandings

Here's a quick but funny story.  My sister is 3 1/2 years younger than I am.  One time, when she was about 8 years old, we were at the beach with the entire family.  She was getting sunburned so my mom made her put on one of my grandpa's t-shirts. 

Once she pulled the t-shirt over her head and read the wording on the front of it, she started crying.  When asked why she was crying she responded, "I don't want people to think I'm retarded".

The shirt read "Kiss me.  I'm retired."

Funny Story Monday: Strong Women

My grandma was such an amazing woman.  Her name was Dessie and I miss her so much.  She was quiet, funny, loving, kind and she made the most awesome cookies in the world.  In a nutshell:  she was the best grandma ever.

Dessie always cooked for others, waited on others, served others.  She never let a dish go unwashed or a family member go without dessert.  She fed us and fed us and fed us.

One family dinner, after everyone finished eating, I began clearing the table while my mom and grandma were in the kitchen doing the dishes.  Dessert was ready but everyone was full and moving on to different activities.  My grandpa was still at the table and, in his not-so-subtle way, said, "Geez, I sure would like a piece of pie."  My grandma turned from the kitchen, walked over to him and replied, "Well, get up and get it yourself". 

Everyone busted out laughing.  Dessie just responded in her sweet way, "Well."  I kept thinking that at some point in a woman's life, she just doesn't feel like serving pie any more. 

Unconditional Love

Today is Floyd's birthday. He is 15 years old.

How could you not love him?

He's amazing. Obviously, I love him more than I could have ever imagined as I've blogged about him before here and here. Floyd is the embodiment of unconditional love. He does not hold onto anger or resentment. When life disappoints him (i.e. he runs out of treats), he gets over it quickly and moves on. Floyd reminds me to appreciate the little things and to take lots of naps. He is patient and independent. I love how he craves being snuggled for a few minutes and then, after he's had enough, he does his own thing. Floyd reminds me to savor an ocean breeze, sleep in the sun and indulge every now and then. Happy Birthday, Bobo Butt.



Eating dinner in a beach parking lot on the Emerald Coast.

Just Breathe

Sometimes, I have to remind myself to breathe. The past couple of weeks have been one of those times in my life. There has been so much going on and today is the first day in a long time that I can actually just relax at home and have no agenda to attend to.

A few months ago I realized that my life was at a crossroads and that something needed to change. I wasn't really sure what that change would be so I tried figuring it out by myself. I couldn't sleep, I was anxious, I was in my head all of the time and I felt like I was going crazy. So one morning, I just gave it all to God and let Him take control. Things started happening and a path for my life began to become clear (not perfectly clear, just clear enough that I could see where I might go). I made a decision to start making some changes, took a risk and now I'm just waiting to hear the results.

I'm not so good at waiting. I've been praying a lot. If things don't work out like I want, I've been trying to figure out why God led me down this path. I'm sure He has a plan (even if I don't know what it is). In the meantime, the waiting has been good practice in remembering to be patient. It also has allowed me to open myself to new possibilities.

Life goes on and I'm still breathing. Here are some groovy random things and reflections that have been happening:

• My friends just left and I loved spending time with them. As much as I enjoy being with friends and extended family, I just love being home with my husband and dog. My life has become so much more family-oriented in the past few years and I really love it. I have always been ambivalent about having a child. Lately, I've been thinking about it more and more. If I do, it will still be a year or two away (I've been saying this for almost 15 years) and I never thought that I'd have a baby in my late thirties. I guess there isn't anything I can do about it now. I'm already considered to be advanced maternal age, so what's another couple of years?
• The little girl I wrote about in this post, is doing well. Her surgery did not have any negative side effects and she is in good spirits. This has been very tough on her family. She is still in the hospital and has not fully recovered so please keep her in your prayers. On the last day of school, her entire school hosted a walk to raise money for her. Over 700 children and adults marched around the school field with signs they made for her, chanting how much they love her and sending her positive thoughts. It was amazing! The only reason I didn't cry is because I was one of the photographers and needed to focus on getting good shots. It was a perfect example of the power people have and the experience reminded me that there is so much compassion in this world
• I was tagged by Heather at Stretching My Wings and am so grateful. I have been meaning to do my part but haven't had the time to dedicate to it. I was going to make it a part of this post but just realized that there is quite a bit involved when being a recipient of blogging awards and I decided to write a completely separate post. . . soon.
• My husband and I just bought a bunch of veggies at our favorite local farm and today was their last day open until Thanksgiving. I couldn't help to wonder what they do with all those leftover veggies and fruit. Does the family go home and cook up a huge feast? Do they give the food to a homeless shelter? Do they can or freeze all of that goodness? I kind of wish that I would've asked.

Wishing everyone a wonderful weekend and the ability to savor the feeling of being home.

Today, I Celebrate Life and Remember My Dad

Today is a unique day.  It is both my birthday and the anniversary of my dad's death.  I turn 35 today and 16 years ago my dad passed away.  Every birthday since then has been special.  I celebrate my life as well as his.  I can't help to wake up on my birthday and relive those last few days with him.  It is my way of remembering the intensity of losing a parent.  Though painful, I don't want to forget.  I want to embrace the grief and loss I feel for him.  The pain is real and it is a part of who I am.  When I write about my dad, I can't always think clearly and I don't really want to.  So, I just go with the flow and voice whatever comes to mind.

My dad had AIDS.  I never really accepted the disease.  I stayed positive and really thought that the handfuls of vitamins and herbs he took would prolong his life.  This was before the cocktail so he had to rely on things such as garlic and shark cartilage.  I was completely shocked to get a phone call from my mom telling me to come home from college.  I was a freshman and it was the week before final exams.  My roommate and I found my professors and, through tears and snotty noses, requested that I take my exams early so that I could go home and be with my dad who was dying.  This was difficult.  Still, I have no recollection of those days as I crammed for my exams and packed my belongings not knowing what I was going home to.

He wasn't too bad when I first saw him but that didn't last long.  I think that he lived for a week or two after I came home.  Sometimes, I miss him so much that my soul actually hurts. I can't catch my breath and I feel like I am suffocating. 

I never heard my dad yell and I never saw him get angry.  He worried about my sister and I and he would have done anything for us.  His love was unconditional.  My dad was compassionate, peaceful, spiritual, funny, loving and creative.  I truly admired him. 

The night before my dad died, I kissed him goodnight and told him that I would take care of my sister.  He didn't have to hang on any longer.  It was okay to go.  I didn't' care that it was my birthday.  He died a few hours later.  That day was so awkward.  Everyone was in shock while we picked out an urn and cemetery plot that morning and ate birthday cake later in the afternoon.  I think my entire family was floating in some other dimension.  It was completely surreal.

God, I miss my dad.  Sometimes, I have nightmares that he is alive and the only reason I don't see him is because we lost touch with each other.  In my nightmare, my dad is living his life somewhere but I have no idea where.  I feel so alone after these dreams and I grieve for him all over again.

I feel hollow when I miss him only because I loved him so much.  After allowing myself to remember his death, I spend the day celebrating life.  I know that I will see my dad again one day and this brings me peace.  Today, I am thankful for my life as well as his.  I am grateful that I could be myself with him. We didn't even have to speak, we could just be with each other and feel connected.  I will carry this connection with me forever.  He has inspired me in so many ways: learning to love myself, embracing creativity, opening myself to true love, connecting with God and furthering my education.  I completed my graduate portfolio in his memory and included this photo and poem: 
         

   

My father, my past

He who taught me to love unconditionally

To savor every moment and to laugh at the little things.

When I think of my father and the life that he lived,

I am reminded of the importance to be myself and to love who I am.

He was the embodiment of peace, love, and spirituality.

My father’s contribution to my leadership capacity was teaching me

to be compassionate and understanding.  

My Old Dog

I love my old dog. His name is Floyd and he's been a part of our family for almost 15 years. I've always had pets growing up but Floyd is my first as an adult. I just can't imagine my life without him. However, I know that he won't live forever and, when he turns 15 in August, I can't ignore the fact that he is getting older and older. The only thing that brings both my husband and I any peace about this is knowing that Floyd has lived a good life. He has traveled across the country, been camping many times, eats well, plays a lot, sleeps with us and has even stayed in luxurious hotels.

I've learned many things about life through Floyd. My old dog has taught me how to be patient, how to enjoy the small things, that family is the most important thing on earth and to not worry. When I practice yoga and am on all fours, Floyd will walk over to me to lay his head on mine and walk underneath me for snuggles. He reminds me to appreciate my loved ones and to be intentional when spending time with them.

Floyd is really scruffy. We've never had him groomed - he's just not that kind of dog. One of my favorite memories is seeing him walk into the Marriott Le Merigot in Santa Monica on a red carpeted walkway. The doorman was wearing a long-tailed tuxedo and top hat. He held the door for old scruffy Floyd who walked into the hotel like he owned the place. In the elevator, a man gave us a snobby look and asked, "They accept pets at this hotel?" and we just replied, "Yup." Floyd and I share the philosophy that if you're going to stay in a hotel, make it a really nice one.

Old dogs are old souls and Floyd is no exception.

Floyd Loves the Beach

Taking In the Sights

Floyd in the Woods

Floyd Camping at Big Basin State Park

Floyd Playing with His Favorite Toy

Today's prayer: God, thank you so much for bringing Floyd into our lives. He's awesome. Please keep him happy and content for the rest of his life. Let others feel compassion and rescue pets who are in need of loving and safe families. Amen.

Kindred Spirits

I've never used this term before but I came across it recently while blogging. It has been lingering in my mind and I found that one definition of a kindred spirit is an "individual with the same beliefs, attitudes or feelings as oneself". My husband is definitely a kindred spirit and my soul mate. The interesting thing is that most people think we are completely opposite. He's quite a bit older than I am, he's much more outgoing, I'm quieter than he is and I don't express my opinions like he does. Before meeting each other, we lived such different lives. Yet, we connect on a level that I never thought possible.

The love I have for my husband is both simple and complex. In the simplest terms, I love him because he is his own person. He is honest, direct, humorous, intelligent and hard working. He is also protective, creative and strong. I love that anyone he comes in contact with sees these aspects of himself. He cannot hide them - this is who he is. What I love even more are the characteristics that aren't so obvious to others: his vulnerability, compassion, beauty, faith in God, ambition and insight into others.

He knows how to both relieve my anxiety and push me to get out of my comfort zone. Though I may get frustrated when feeling pushed, I love him for having confidence in me and pointing out the strengths that I don't always know are there. He sees parts of me that I don't. We are similar yet so different. He knows me: what I am capable of, what my limits are, why I disengage, when I need to be inspired and when I need to do things on my own. I could not have made it through my graduate program without him. He supported me when I felt incompetent and gave me space when I needed to work in silence. Knowing that he was my sole supporter at my graduation ceremony was the epitome of our life together: it was just he and I - everything that really matters. He is my one true kindred spirit.

I dedicated my graduate portfolio to my husband and included this poem:

My husband, my future

The person who inspires me to make my dreams come true

And does not let me give up.

He who teaches me how to be courageous and fully embrace life.

When I think of my husband and the life that he lives,

I am reminded of the power I have to create my own possibilities. 

My husband’s contribution to my leadership capacity was

fostering my inner strength and creativity. 

Island Memories

I spent my childhood vacationing on an island. It was located on Long Lake in Michigan and it was my grandpa's. The story is that my great-grandfather won the island in a poker game. He passed it onto my grandpa who became the caretaker. Eventually, it became known as (my last name) Island. It is no longer in the family but I do have wonderful memories of this place and I'd like to share some that are significant to me.

• When we got to the lake, we would park at the public landing, my dad and grandpa would swim to the island, unlock our Jon boats and row them to the landing to pick us up. If we were expecting guests, they would honk their horns to notify us that they had arrived.
• There was a two-bedroom cottage and an outhouse on the island. That's all. No running water, no heat and no phone. There was a stuffed deer head in the living room overlooking our potbelly stove that kept us warm on cold Michigan nights.
• Since there was no bathroom, we took our baths in the lake. Ivory soap floats so we could set it on top of the water while we washed. If it was winter, we bathed inside using wash basins but we'd have to pump the water by hand and heat it on the stove.
• I remember my dad sunbathing on a float. He fell asleep and floated away so far that we had to pick him up in the boat.
• My grandpa used to catch Sunfish and Bluegill that we'd eat for dinner. We never went a visit without making s'mores and roasting hot dogs in the fire pit.
• One summer, my mom, dad, sister and I spent a week on the island by ourselves. This is where my parents told us that they were separating. My dad always broke bad news to us somewhere outside. I guess that he felt that being outside, where it was beautiful, would ease the pain of bad news.
• I learned the correct way of peeing in an outhouse at a very young age. When having to use an outhouse, you learn to either hold your breath or breathe into the sleeve of your shirt. Lysol is your best friend.
• When I was in high school, I spent a few weeks on the island with my dad, sister, grandma and grandpa. The night we arrived, a tornado came through and took out the power. My dad cooked gourmet meals on the potbelly stove and a charcoal grill. He had a way of making everything special.  
• I was able to spend a couple nights on the island with my husband. I'm so happy that he got to experience this wonderful place with me. I absolutely loved being there with my grandparents as an adult. It was such a beautiful experience and I will hold it with me forever.

It amazes me that a place can hold both happy and sad memories. When I think of this island, I travel back in time. I sense my childhood again, how simple being with family can be and the spirits of those who are no longer with me. I don't know if I will ever have a child but, if I do, I hope that he or she will have memories of a place like this. I hope that everyone has a special place like my island.

Humor is the Essence of Happiness

Humor is a significant part of my life.  I never go a day without laughing.  Never.  I am married to a comedian.  Literally, a stand-up comedian.  Some mornings we actually wake up laughing together.  My husband officially became a comedian a few years ago in Hollywood but he's been making me laugh since the first night we met.  This is what attracted me to him - his laugh is contagious and he can draw anyone into his world. 

I truly believe in the power of humor and the basic human need to laugh.  Without humor, life is dull and boring.  Humor can turn any situation around.  It can heal heartache and transform despair into hope.  When life begins to feel heavy and overwhelming, laughter is the most amazing way to reduce stress.  I am a happy person and so is my husband.  We live a happy life together and I really feel that humor is a major contributor to our happiness.

One night, my husband and I were watching a show at the Laugh Factory in Hollywood.  From our table I had both a balcony perspective of the audience and was also a part of it.  I focused my attention on a very big guy whose belly shook when he laughed.  I could tell he was trying to hold back a lot of his laughter but he couldn't hide it all.  He was experiencing true joy.  So was the rest of the audience.  We did not know each other but we were all laughing together as one.  I felt so connected to these people.  It was one of the most beautiful things I've ever experienced.

Today's Prayer:  God, thank you for the power of laughter.  Please help me find humor in stressful situations.  Give me the ability to make others laugh when they need to.  I am so appreciative for my wonderful marriage, keep us laughing together throughout the rest of our lives.   

Remembering Grandma

Today is my grandma's birthday.  Her name was Dessie and she died in 2010.  I really miss her.  She was a classic grandma:  kind, funny, quiet, cute, loving and modest. 

Dessie May

As we both got older, I noticed her transitioning into a more assertive woman.  She was born in 1926, never learned to drive and did not work.  It was her duty to care for her family and she did it with love.  The first time I noticed her becoming more independent (or just tired of caring for others) was at my mom's house.  After dinner, my grandpa mentioned that he'd like a piece of pie.  Grandma's response, "Well get up and get it yourself".  We all laughed so hard, I almost peed my pants.  Even my grandpa thought it was funny. 

She could bake anything and she was really good at it.  At church events, everyone always gravitated toward her pies, cakes and cookies.  My favorite were her chocolate chip oatmeal cookies.  Why didn't I ask her for the recipe before she died?  That's one of the things I hate about death:  if you don't find out everything you want, you're going to lose out.  There are a lot of things I wish I would have asked her; however, I didn't.  So, I just need to wait until I see her again.  I know that she is in Heaven.  I know that she is with my dad.  I can't wait to see them both.  Happy Birthday, grandma.  I love you so much.

Fluffy Flufferton

Though his formal name is Floyd, he goes by many others.  My dog is also known as Floydy Floyderton, Squishy Butt, Mo Fo and (my favorite) Fluffy Flufferton.  I love my dog.  Fourteen years ago, my husband and I fell in love with puppy in a pen at the St. Augustine Humane Society.  We named him Floyd and he wears a pink collar (yes, he's named after the band).  What joy he has brought to my life.  Floyd is my family - he is a gift from God. 

Floyd has taught me how to be a good mother.  He's shown me the power of unconditional love.  He is patient, compassionate, protective, funny and observant.  We love the same things:  cheese, the beach, watermelon and camping.  When my husband or I are sick, Floyd stays up at night and watches over us.  He lays his head in my lap when I am sad and let's me cry into his fur.  We adopted Floyd six months after we met - he has been a part of us almost as long as there has been an "us". I am so grateful that God brought him into our lives.  He makes me very happy and I can't imagine my life without him.      

Floyd is self-conscious.  If he is dirty, he will let us know that he wants a bath.  Really, he does - he walks into the bathroom and sniffs his shampoo bottle.  He's mastered the puppy dog look.  He can give you a look that will make your heart melt.  Floyd protects us from strangers, people who wear boots and/or hats, mean dogs and delivery people.  He also likes to watch the grill to make sure that squirrels don't steal our steaks.

One of my most favorite things about Floyd:  he absolutely loves cows.  He doesn't care about horses, only cows.  When driving by open fields, he looks out the window hoping to see a cow.  If we yell out "cow," he excitedly goes to the car window and wags his tail.  If we call out "horse" he doesn't even move.  Like I said, he likes cheese.  Our theory about the whole cow thing:  Floyd knows that cheese comes from cows.  He is my family and I love Fluffy Flufferton so very much.  Have you adopted a pet lately?  It will enrich your life in ways you didn't think possible.  Save a life!  Rescue a pet!   
   

A Beautiful Afternoon

A couple of days ago, my cousin Stephen came to visit.  He's recently completed his duty with the Marine Corps after serving eight years.  When I'm around him I am more appreciative of the meaning of family.  Even as I am writing, it is difficult not to cry.  I am just so full of love for Stephen and I feel so proud of him.  I'm proud of his heroism, courage, strength, compassion and openness. 

My husband wanted to introduce Stephen to a friend of ours, Jim.  He is 93 years old and served in the 101st airborne during World War II.  Spending the afternoon with my cousin and Jim was an experience that I will hold in my heart forever.  Though both men served in completely different wars, they had a very special connection with each other.  It was amazing to see Stephen try to verbalize his feelings about being in the military and Jim knowing exactly what he was trying to say.  They both understood each other and both soldiers appreciated the other in a way I will never fully grasp.

That afternoon, it was as if both men needed the other. Stephen needed Jim to show him that one can find peace and normalcy after years in the military and Jim needed Stephen to remember how it feels to be strong and proud.  As I reflect on that afternoon, I find myself feeling very emotional.  I am filled with love.  Love for my cousin, love for those who fought and died in wars before my time, love for my dad who served in Vietnam but never talked about it, love for a childhood friend who died in Afghanistan, love for all of the soldiers who continue to risk their lives for our freedom and love for my country.  Spending the afternoon with these two veterans was unexpected but extremely special.  It turned out to be a very beautiful afternoon.

Heartache

My life is good.  It has been a very long time since I've experienced true heartache.  I was lying in bed last night, wide awake at 3:00 in the morning, and literally thought that my heart was going to explode.  I am devasated at the imminent grief and loss that my family will soon experience.  Death lingers in the air and I cannot escape it.  As much as I pray and as much as I hope, I have to accept the fact that my grandma is dying.

As I left her home and traveled back to mine, I stared out the car window at the sunset.  As beautiful and vivid as the colors were, the only thing that I could think about was whether or not I would see her again.  These are the same excrutiating thoughts that I would have every time I drove away from my terminally ill father.  I never knew if the weekend that I had just spent with him would be the last.  I couldn't stay with him and I can't stay with her - I have my own life and my own family that I must take care of.  I understand this, but at the same time, I feel like I am abandoning my family, my past and my dad all over again.  I feel helpless and confused and really, really sad. 

I've been praying a lot more but I don't always know what to ask God for.  Is it that my grandma feels His presence and is comfortable?  Or, is it that my grandpa finds peace during all of this?  Sometimes, I pray that God brings me sleep.  How am I supposed get through a day when I've only slept 4 hours?  How do we get through life when we know that death is waiting for us?  I've been asking these questions and I don't have any answers.  This void, this sadness, makes my heart break.  I know that life is full of wonder and that there are times for love, anger, growth, death, birth, war and peace.  This is my time to miss my grandma.  This is my time for heartache.