2016

So, it has been awhile since I posted last and for that I apologize. Writer's block and all that. But today, as it is the last day of the year I thought I'd share some measured musing.

2016 ... you've been a bitch. In this past year I've learned a lot, discovered a lot and cried a lot.

I learned what it felt like to experience an earth-shattering loss. The loss of my dad this year was not something I expected to experience in my 29th year of life. I thought I would experience that in my 50 or 60th year of life. I wasn't prepared. Though I don't know that anyone can actually be ready for this type of situation. His illness was a shit storm of bad news that we could never actually process or accept in those short 5 1/2 weeks. After his death, I learned what it was like to create a new normal when you still felt the Gary Green sized hole in your heart. His absence is massive and we will never stop feeling that.

Throughout the grieving process, I learned what people should not say to someone who is grieving. I learned this through what people said to me and even through the head tilt, and now I can hope to know what to say to others as they experience loss within their own lives.

I learned what an impact my dad had on others. It is incredible to continue to discover how he touched so many others.

I learned that your family is your most important circle. Keep them close. Love them. Support them. And thank your lucky stars that you have them. Even though you may not always get along, they are the ones that will go to war for you.

I cried. A lot. I cried at times when I couldn't even identify what made me cry. I cried in loss. I cried in frustration. I even cried in happiness. When my best friend proposed to me I cried out of happiness (after the shock wore off at least). I couldn't believe that this was happening to me, in fact I looked at him and asked, "Are you kidding me right now?" before saying yes! I cried out of immense happiness.

I discovered that I fear for our future after our presidential election. I worry about a future with a president who does not have a filter and clearly does not support women, public schools or minorities. I worry about those that voted for him because I don't understand.

I discovered that people are wrong. They like to say that in times of distress you learn who your true friends are. I call their bluff. Yes, it is INCREDIBLE the number of people who come out of the walls to help you when you are struggling. And that is truly amazing and I am so grateful for those who did. But I think that you discover who your true friends are after the loss has occurred and everyone returns to their daily routines. Your true friends are those who continue to ask how you are doing and want to spend time with you even though your time of distress was months ago.

I learned that I need to not care so much about what others say or think about me. I am me, and if you don't like it then suck it up buttercup. Obviously, I can't make that a resolution or anything because I will never stop taking it personally. But I should. I shouldn't let other's opinions of me affect my mood and self-esteem. I shouldn't, but I do.

2016 was a rough year for many. Many people experienced loss of a loved one far too soon. Many people experienced heart ache. Many people experienced frustrations, trials, tribulations and hard times. But if I have learned anything in 2016 it is to spread kindness and hold onto the good things.

So, as we move into 2017 let's all focus on a bright new year. Hold your loved ones close, be kind to one another even if they aren't like you and you don't understand their lifestyle, help those who need help, and focus on the positive.

xoxo

A Birthday Request

On the eve of what would be my dad's 62nd birthday, I find myself sitting on the couch watching a home video from December 1986. I would've been 3 months old at the time and my twin and I are being passed around the table from person to person. My sisters and cousin are playing with the game SIMON trying to remember the increasingly complicated patterns. My mom is in and out of the kitchen in her baggy shirt and large 80s glasses. My dad sits at the table with a big, bushy mustache and a full mop of hair atop his head. Grandma (Aunt) Marge is proudly showing off her "Grandma Marge" sweatshirt happily explain that all of the grandkids names are on it with "Andy's being somewhere up here." All of this being filmed with a video camera the size of a 10 pound baby.

It is the picture of happiness. The family is all there and everyone is happy and together. Political strife hasn't driven its wedge between opposing parties within the family and all the people I love are there. These were the good old days (even if I only remember them from videos).

I completely realize that I am a glutton for punishment by watching these videos, especially today. Today when I miss my daddy dearly and yearn for what should have been. I also realize that I am *really* lucky to have these videos so that I can still hear his voice, however painful that is.

Fast forward a few minutes in this sadly blurry video and I hear my dad behind the camera calling. "Carolyn! Caro-lynne-poo! Kevie! Kev Kev Kev Kevie! Carolyn! Caro-lynee-poo!" As he tries to get us to look at the camera.  Something he will never do with my children.

Fast forward a bit more to a scene when mom is feeding me with her right hand while shaking a container of wipes with the other to keep my attention. She is speaking to Grandma Marge and lamenting the fact that if she told Caitlin and Kristen to nap they wouldn't, but if Gary did they would go right up and go to sleep. All of this in the midst of a conversation about Dynasty and the magazine "National Star".

My dad was a good great man . He was a man that was taken too God-damned soon from all of us, but he was a great man. He was a man who was focused on helping others even if it meant massive frustration on his part. He wanted to change things for the better and help everyone he possibly could. He was involved in organizations whose sole focus was to help bring those into nature would couldn't go on their own. He wanted to help others and spread kindness until the very end. He led a life filled with acts of kindness.

Ultimately, I don't know who reads this blog ... but my mom has put out a request and I am requesting the same ... tomorrow, in honor of his birthday let's spread those seeds of kindness far and wide. Do something nice for someone else. Give someone a hug who needs it. Do a random act of kindness for which you receive nothing except the satisfaction of knowing you did good. It is the little things that often have the largest impact. Not sure what to do? Look here for some ideas. So if you are reading, spread those seeds and be kind to one another.

Imagination and Reality

It has been almost 5 months since my dad was taken from us by the hands of the super bitch, Cancer. I don't think anyone would argue with us that his death was awful and unnecessary (though people still say stupid shit like, it is so much easier for you that he died after only 5 weeks - add that to the list of things you should never say to someone who is grieving). Despite that, and time having continued to pass, we are still grieving.

This week I am house and dog sitting for my mom so she can take a much needed trip to Connecticut to see her best friend. However, this isn't my usual stint in house and dog sitting because I am in her new house. A house that she moved into a month or so ago. A house that is filled with all of her belongings. A house that feels a little bit like her home. A house that her dogs run and bark around.

And yet, something is off. I don't feel him here.

I look around this home and I see his caribou, an ever present fixture. I look around this home and I see our family pictures. I look around this home and see his chair where he often was found on a cold winter's evening. I look around this house and I see his collection of native american artifacts that he acquired on his trips to the southwest.

But I don't feel him.

I think that is the benefit and downfall of moving after a death. My mom needed to move. It was too hard for her, and really all of us, to be at the old house. We could see him everywhere and his belongings were still scattered around the house. It was his space and his house and his dream. This is a two edged sword though. It is too painful to see him everywhere we looked at the old house, but it is too painful to not see him everywhere we look at the new house.

It almost feels like we are all just playing pretend. We are living an imaginary scenario and pretending that everything is okay and pretending that he will be home soon. The reality is, obviously, the extreme opposite of that. I don't think that any of us are still in denial over his death ... but we pretend to be. It is easier that way. 

I Am Not Perfect

I am not perfect. I make mistakes. I say things I shouldn't say. I eat things I shouldn't eat. I do things I shouldn't do. I enable people I shouldn't enable.

Sometimes I want to punch someone in the face. Sometimes I want to yell at the top of my lungs when things don't work out the way I want them to. Sometimes I want to stay in bed and pull the covers over my eyes.

I am not perfect.

I know I am not perfect and I know that that is okay. I know that there is no such thing as perfect. So why is it that I feel the need to BE perfect?

This is true in many facets of my life. I want to be the perfect teacher, employee, sister, friend, fiance, partner, daughter. I want to have perfect hair, make up, clothing, weight. I want to be the happiest, nicest, most optimistic person possible. I want to be liked by everyone. But striving for perfection only leads to defeat and deflation.

The majority of this pressure comes from myself. I put a lot of pressure on myself to be perfect and I tie that to a scale (both literal and figurative) that has high expectations that can be hard to balance with real life. And it is exhausting. It is exhausting trying to stay within the two pound range that is your "live with it weight". It is exhausting trying to please everyone. It is exhausting to continue saying yes, yes, yes in hopes of high approval rating when you really want to say no. It is exhausting to be the people pleaser who only wants to please others even if, internally, you are sinking because you just want to do something for yourself.

I do not believe that this is something that I, alone, struggle with. I think a lot of people experience the pressure to be perfect every single day. It can be overwhelming. In fact, it IS overwhelming.

Maybe we just need to be a little nicer to ourselves and understand that perfect is impossible.  The adage of "you are perfect just the way you are" is one we all need to focus on a little more.

Hate is NEVER the Answer

Today is June 12, 2016. That means that we have been living in 2016 for a whopping 165 days. Already in those mere 165 days, we have witnessed 133 mass shootings.

In 2015, the United States saw 372 mass shootings. That is more than one mass shooting per day for an entire year ... with a few left over.

In 2014, the United States saw 280 mass shootings.

According to the FBI, a mass shooting occurs when four or more people are killed or injured at a single event, in the same general time and location, not including the shooter.

If we move beyond a mass shooting, and look at the number of gun violence incidents the results are chilling.

2014 saw 51,820 incidents
2015 saw 53,272 incidents

In 2014, 628 children were killed or injured.
In 2015, 698 children were killed or injured.

CHILDREN. We are talking about children under the age of 11. This is horrific.

In 2014, 12,593 people died.
In 2015, 13,429 people died.

In 2014, there were 1,605 accidental shootings.
In 2015, there were 1,965 accidental shootings.

What the hell is wrong with us?

This is a topic of intense conversation in our country. To make changes, or to leave it alone? Do we change our gun laws to make it harder for people to get their hands on guns? Or do we leave it alone because it is our second amendment right?

I'm sorry ... this is probably going to stir up some anger when I say this ... but using the second amendment as a reason to keep your guns is bull shit. This is the not the wild, wild west and we don't need to carry guns with us anymore. We do not have to protect our homes from soldiers invading them. We do not have a well regulated militia.

The second amendment says: A well regulated militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed."

I don't know about you ... but when I read this I don't see any part of it that says, hey, don't forget to bring your gun to the movie theater with you. This amendment is about the concern of the national army posing a threat to the separate state's security. It is really about when people served in the militia, their right to bear arms would not be infringed.

There is ZERO reason to have any type of guns other than your hunting rifles which should be kept locked in a gun safe. There is ZERO reason to have any type of assault rifle. The argument there is that people like to shoot them for fun. Be that as it may, there are a lot of people who have access to them (legally or otherwise) who use them for a different purpose. A purpose that ends with 50 people dead in a Florida nightclub.

I am not saying that people can't go hunting. I come from a family of hunters. I love venison as much as the next person. And that is fine - hunt responsibly. But why, when you are not hunting, do you need to carry a gun with you? I am also not saying that people shouldn't own guns. I'm saying we need to do SOMETHING about this.

Something needs to change. We continue to have mass shootings and if the trend of shootings continues this year, we will experience more mass shootings than last year. This is a problem.

What is the solution?



*Statistics are taken from the Gun Violence Archive.