Blue October Even In November

I've been teasing my nephew Matt that he needs to give Blue October a second chance.  Just as I refuse to eat anything that is artificially flavored or colored to look, taste, or smell like an orange because my mom gave us orange Triamanic as kids when we were sick, Matt has associated Blue October with an unpleasant time in his life.   Blue October is one of my favorite bands.  I love their lead singer.  You can tell he has a bit of a dark twisted side which makes his lyrics more realistic.  He has suffered from bouts of mental illness, but has pulled through.  I've mentioned before on my blog that I don't get in to music that uses cuss words for every part of speech, but a well placed curse word is magical.  Blue October has mastered the art of well placed random f-bombs, utilizing it when truly, no other word would suffice.  Kind of like when you are walking through the bedroom in the middle of the night and stub your toe on the bed. It just fits.

A few years back, when I still felt the need to have the real cd in my hands, I would go browse Target or Best Buy for new cd's.  I would usually go for a particular cd, but would also pick an additional random one based on the title or the album cover (not knowing one bit about what they actually sounded like).  That was my way of  keeping my ears open to new music.  I started with their "Foiled" album because I loved the name of the group and was immediately addicted to "Into the Ocean", "You Make Me Smile", "Hate Me", and "18th Floor Balcony".  After playing it a few times front to back, I jumped on itunes and downloaded "History For Sale" which featured "A Quiet Mind", "Chameleon Boy", and "Calling You".  I have a really hard time narrowing down which ones are my favorite, especially since there are a couple more albums I haven't even mentioned, so I've decided to feature the ones with the most play counts on my itunes library.

Left behind, but not forgotten. Well... at least not for too long anyway.

When I was about 9 or 10 years old my family moved from our big house at 1540 Lenox Drive (can't believe I still remember the address!) to a pink house over by Doctor's Hospital (both in Modesto, CA.) To make the move easier, my parents decided to send my older sisters and I to YMCA camp for a week. Because our camp weeks were back to back, my older sister Kim got to take the brand new sleeping bag that I got for my birthday to camp with her. I still haven't figured out how that really worked out, but I was younger than her, so it didn't matter at the time. Anyway... the week we were scheduled to move just happened to be my week away at camp, which meant, I was going to be coming home to our new house. Before I left for camp, my parents drove us to our new neighborhood and pointed out the pink house located right across the street from a big hospital.  


My week at camp went well, but when I came back from camp, my parents were so busy with the big move, they completely forgot to pick me up!  I remember the director of the YMCA coming out and asking if I wanted him to call my dad, who was a friend of his.  I said a desperate "Yes!" and in one quick instant was disheartened when he said, "do you have your new number yet?".   Now why on earth would anyone make sure I had a working phone number to call just in case?  One more spark of hope came when he asked if I knew where I lived.  I was so excited because I did know where I lived.  It was in a pink house next to a big hospital!  His reply to me was, "let me go get a couple chairs, this may be a while".  About 4-5 hours later, my mom pulled up in our station wagon with my sister's Kim and Kathy in tow.  My mom was a balling fool, crying, "I'm so sorry" in between her deep sobs.  I was so darn happy to be remembered at that point, that I don't really think I saw it as having been forgotten.


I'll never forget the grin on my sister Kim's face as she relished the scene playing out before her.  To add her own bit of drama, she turned to me and said, "you know your new sleeping bag?  Guess what??? It rolled of the top of the bus and down the side of a mountain"  I'm pretty sure just sat there dumbfounded for a bit.  My younger sister, Kathy, was sitting in the back seat with me looked at me with a smile that was bursting from ear to ear and said, "We got a dog why you were gone too!"  Seriously??? a dog too?  When we got to our new house, the dog ran up and introduced himself to my leg.  I wasn't very happy at that point, but my mom, ever the optimist, came in with a gift sure to bring a smile to my face.  It was my very own Fonzie (from Happy Days) latch hook rug.  Oh boy!!! How could I not perk up knowing I would have the luxury of pulling thousands of threads through a a vinyl net fabric until it forms a picture of my Happy Days hero.


Come on... admit it.  It's pretty funny now looking back.   Friends tell me all the time that I should write a book about growing up in my family, that it would be a number one seller on the comedy/drama list.   As crazy as it all sounds, and trust me there were plenty of crazy times, it helped me become the person I am today.  My parents may have been a little flaky because of the fumes which seemed to permeate from our bathroom wallpaper whenever their friends came over, but they instilled in each of us kids an admirable trait.  Laughter.  


This post is dedicated to my mom, because even though we hardly speak, I know she has not forgotten me, and to my dad, the music man.  There are so many songs that make me think of you. (I'll always be your S.A.K.) 


 I thank you both for enriching my life with music and words.  "House at Pooh Corner" or "Turn Around", I always think of you.

Don't Stop Believing

Nothing makes you feel more like a big shot than hanging out with your older sister's friends. Even cooler is when they take you to one of their upper class parties. I can't remember if it was KJ or Tammy, but one my sister Kellie's friends had a jeep, a CJ7 to be exact. One Friday night, she decided that I was somehow cool enough and old enough to go with her to a party. It was a crisp spring night and we had the top off the jeep. I was freezing, but too excited to say anything about it. Journey came on the radio singing about a small town girl living in a lonely world. That was the first time I think I listened to those words (at least at that volumn anyway :) Everytime I hear this song, I think about that night and the cool air on my face, eyes burning from the chill wind.


Don't Stop Believing is great song made even better with Spongebob singing it. Journey and Spongebob. CLASSIC.




Now... I'm going to be completely honest and say that I don't know anyone, including myself, who didn't make out to Journey's "Open Arms" and "Faithfully".  Man I love the 80's.

Money

When I was 14 or so, my best friend Lara and I spent pretty much our entire summer hanging out with her boyfriend Mark and his brothers, Mike and Scott. Every morning, we would get up early and ride our ten speeds 7 miles out to Mark's house where we would spend most of the day watching MTV or, believe it or not, helping Mark and his brother's chop wood (because they sold firewood of course). Every Saturday, if we had all of the wood chopped and the other chores around the house done, Mark's dad would take us all out to the delta to go watersking. Needless to say, I actually had a smoking hot little bod back then :-) That summer, Mark's brother Mike introduced me to Eddie Money's "No Control" album which became the music I used to test out and connect with any new car I would buy. In fact, it still is. Sound crazy? Well... maybe a little bit, but everyone has some secret good luck thing they do right? After I purchase and whenever I trade in a car, I spend the first and last 10 minutes with my car with Eddie singing as we fade to black.

I used to tell my husband that I didn't want to ever die before I seeing an Eddie Money concert, then he took me to see Eddie in an amazing concert(for an older guy) and I realized I needed to have something else I couldn't "die before doing" - something a little harder to obtain.

The 80's were an amazing time. Sametimes "I wish I could go back, but I can't go back I know."

We Close Our Eyes - Oingo Boingo

Picture four 19 year old girls taking a road trip from Northern California to San Diego for an Oingo Boingo concert and then busting up the courage to stay and extra night to cross the border in to Tijuana to go clubbing and dancing all night. That was me, my friend Sandra Robles, and a couple other crazy girls I can't remember. First of all, I can't believe we were gutsy enough to make the trip over without any protection. Second, we had the most kick ass time. Funny part was I looked like a dork out their dancing with my punker moves and a neck brace on from a car accident the week before. I loved Oingo Boingo. No Halloween party was complete without playing "Dead Man's Party".



The Oingo Boingo song that still brings a huge smile to my face and makes me sing along is "we close our eyes". Give it a listen - see if you can stop yourself from smiling.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AgjUF-qivsw&feature=related

Oingo Boingo - We Close our Eyes Lyrics:
We close our eyes
We close our eyes and dream
and the world has turned
around again

When everybody is running in the big race
And having a good time
Who am I to cast a shadow
Who am I?
I looked Death in the face last night
I saw him in a mirror
And he simply smiled
He told me not to worry
He told me just to take my time

Chorus:
We close our eyes and the world
has turned around again
We close our eyes and dream
and another year has come
and gone
We close our eyes and the world
has turned around again
We close our eyes and dream ...

And if you come to me
And if you touch my hand
I might just slip away
I might just disappear
Who am I?
And if you think I'm worth it
And if you think it's not too late
We might start falling
If we don't try to hard
We might start falling in love

(Chorus)

We're on the healing path
We're on a roller coaster ride
That could never turn back
And if you love me
And if you really try
To make the seconds count
Then we can close our eyes

(chorus)

We close our eyes and the world
has turned around again

Is it Mine

During my summer break right before starting the 8th grade, I met this boy named Johnny at the roller skating rink. (That's right, I'm dating myself by mentioning those skates that have wheels in both the front and the back.) He took me to see a movie called "Roller Boogie". I was so infatuated with him and the guy in the movie, that I went back and saw this corny movie 4 more times. (I came from a small town and there wasn't a whole lot else to do) There was a song on the soundtrack called "Lord Is It Mine" by Supertramp which rang true to me.

My parents had just divorced and my dad, who was living overseas in Saudi Arabia for a hospital corporation, asked that we come live with him there for awhile. I was torn because I really missed my dad but I didn't want to leave my friends (or be covered in clothing from head to toe). Not wanting to hurt the feelings of either parent, I really struggled with making the right decision. Both parents had also remarried and to having a man in our house after being a house full of women for over a year required a lot of adjusting. Anyone who knows me that I like to live my life fairly drama free. Yes, there are always those days that drama can't help but seep in to my world, but I was pretty good at coping so it didn't effect me too much. Except for those times when it did affect me. Sometimes I would put the Supertramp cassette in to my sony walkman and head over to the park - where I would climb up a tree and hide from the world. Thank you Roger Hodgson. I found my place to be alone.

My Life Through Songs

My nephew Matt started a "Fifty Sunday's" blog where each Sunday he features an album that meant a lot to him and writes about what he was going through in his life during the time it became important.  Because Matt and I are connected through our interests, demeanor, and blood, I am taking the liberty of stealing shamelessly the idea of his blog (he stole it too so it's kind of just like paying it forward) and start documenting my own favorite music.   Matt and I share the same passion for music, but I'm pretty sure that being almost 20 years older than him will present music selections he has never heard of or may wonder what his awesome cool aunt was thinking.  Matt... If you're reading this, I'm telling you - this stuff was golden in it's time :-)

Music and writing have alway been my release.  If I was mad, frustrated, or happy, I would write a poem and slide it under my mom's bedroom door at night.  Writing was just easier than using my voice.  In fact, writing was my voice.  I grew up in a house full of music.  My dad had a band and our house was the designated place for jam sessions.  We even had egg cartons stappled to our garage walls for insulation.  As a kid, some of my favorite days ended with my dad's band singing "Good Night Ladies" or "The House at Pooh Corner" to send us off to bed.  It's no wonder music became my other release.  For me music is all about the words, the meaning, and the beat.  Music can suit any mood.  It uplifts me when my soul is weary and makes me happy, especially when the lyrics surprise me.   While I l.isten to just about anything, I'm not in to songs that use swear words as verbs, adjectives, and nouns.  However, a well placed cuss word can be extremely satisfying when used appropriately.

It's really hard to pick what goes up first and what order to put these in, so forgive me if they aren't in chronilogical order.  This is going to be a great journey... Hope you enjoy taking the ride down memory lane with me.

I'm going to have to start this list off with a song by Jack's Mannequin called "Swim".  This year... while as amazing as it has been to be in the role I am in at work, has come with many challenges.  There are times when work, family, home, being adult (with bills to pay), and dealing with fibromyalgia can get to be a bit overwhelming.  This song has helped me pull through the difficult times by reminding me of the reasons I do what I do and who I do it for.  Occassionally, your going to get caught up in turbulent seas and the only thing you can so is just "swim". 

SWIM by Jack's Mannequin
You've gotta swim
Swim for your life
Swim for the music
That saves you
When you're not so sure you'll survive

You gotta swim
And swim when it hurts
The whole world is watching
You haven't come this far
To fall off the earth
The currents will pull you
Away from your love
Just keep your head above

I found a tidal wave
Begging to tear down the dawn
Memories like bullets
They fired at me from a gun
A crack in the armor
I swim to brighter days
Depite the absence of sun
Choking on salt water
I'm not giving in
I swim

You gotta swim
Through nights that won't end
Swim for your families
Your lovers your sisters
And brothers and friends
Yeah you've gotta swim
Through wars without cause
Swim for the lost politicians
Who don't see their greed as a flaw

The currents will pull us
Away from our love
Just keep your head above
I found a tidal wave
Begging to tear down the dawn
Memories like bullets
They fired at me from a gun
Cracking me open now
I swim for brighter days
Despite the absence of sun
Choking on salt water
I'm not giving in
Well I'm not giving in
I swim

You gotta swim
Swim in the dark
There's no shame in drifting
Feel the tide shifting and wait for the spark
Yeah you've gotta swim
Don't let yourself sink
Just find the horizon
I promise you it's not as far as you think
The currents will drag us away from our love
Just keep your head above
Swim
Just keep your head above
Swim, swim
Just keep your head above
Swim

What's Important to Me

We had a department off site lately where we talked about things that frustrate us, make us laugh, what we do for fun, what we love, and what is important to us.  I think my posts over the past couple weeks showed what frustrates me, especially about work, so I thought I'd write about what is important to me this time.  There are three things that top the list of what I believe to be important. 


First, is my faith is my faith in the Lord, His son, Jesus Christ, and in the Holy Ghost.  I know that seems like three things right there, but I'm going to just put them all in the bucket of faith so I have room for the other top things.  I may not be the best at reading my scriptures daily (or weekly for that matter) or remembering to get down on my knees, but I know with a certainty that the Lord has a plan for us, that Christ prepared a way for us to return unto His presence, and if I live worthily, I will always have the companion of the Holy Ghost to comfort and guide me throughout my life.  I grew up in a household that was confusing, to say the least, in regards to how we interpreted the purpose and meaning of religion.  The reasons I seem to remember my parents choosing our church was because my mom had cancer and the uncertainty of her fate caused a need to help us find a spiritual foundation, just in case.  I also seem to recall a story about my dad going in to the church, seeing a lady in cut-off Levi shorts and then learning that they would welcome the thought of having his band play at church as being an influencing factor in his decision process.  Nonetheless, a decision was made to send us to a Catholic school, catechism classes, and go to church on random holidays and when my dad's band played.  I'm not sure I actually got a lot out of it, what kid/teenager ever does?  Any way...We had a priest named Father John who used Winnie the Pooh and Frog & Toad references in his sermons and I always loved that part.  I don't remember what the specific lessons were about, but the main concept that I took away was that the gospel plan is simple and we shouldn't try and complicate it.  Frog and Toad would get frustrated or mad at each other over simple things because they failed to consider the other perspective, but they always made up in the end when they looked at the good in each other.  I think there is a lot to be learned from these lessons.  I encourage everyone to read the Tao of Pooh and Frog and Toad Together.


Second on my list of importance is my family.  My husband and girls are my world.  I can't believe how blessed I am to have been entrusted with these girls to raise.  They make me laugh, cry, frustrated, happy, and scared.  My husband is a great partner, lover, and father too.  Don't get me wrong.  Our family isn't perfect and we have definitely had our share of ups and downs and left and rights, but we love each other.  There are plenty of days when I want to run away from my life or trade it in for someone else's (for at least a few hours anyway), however, there is also nothing like the feeling of coming home and walking in the door to be with people who love me.  It kind of sucks that I use all of my good energy at work and my family gets what's left at the end of a long hard day, but they don't hold it against me, and I'm grateful for that.  My family consists of more than those in my immediate household.  My sisters, my niece's and nephews, my dad and step mom are also very important to me.  My family, as dysfunctional as we are, is also my rock.  Plain and simple, I know they have my back and I will always have theirs.

So... the last of my top three would have to be my inner strength.  I went through a time in my life when I allowed someone else to take away my strength and my ability to believe in myself.  As crazy as this sounds, I think it was that experience that helped me become even stronger because I had to build myself up and learn how to believe that I was beautiful and worthy of all things good.  When I look in to the reflecting glass, I see someone who knows she is a daughter of our Heavenly Father who cherishes morals and who tries to find the positive in just about everything I do.  When life weighs me down, I find a way to release the negativity, even if it means having an emotional meltdown.  Then I pick myself up, dust myself off, and move on.  No looking back.  I take the lesson and throw away the pain.  I focus on what lies ahead of me instead of what tried to hold me back.  I've learned how to forgive.  Both myself and others.  There are times when I want to kick myself for allowing my life to spin out of control, but then I receive gentle reminders that we aren't meant to control everything.  Some times, we have to just roll with the punches and let go.  If we find a way to turn the challenges in to opportunities and recognize that God wants us to experience both the good and the bad so we can grow, everything else starts to fall in to place.

My list of what is important to me doesn't end with these three, but it is definitely where it begins.  If you are reading this, you are most likely part of my family and I am grateful to have you in my life.  Thanks for making my top three :-)

Uh... I think Mandy and Nathan are in Ollie's spot.

Ollie seriously thinks he's human.

Abraham Lincoln said "Whatever you are, be the best you can be.". All I can say is I'm trying. I'm really trying. But it so hard to be your best when you are stretched, puLled, tugged, and yanked in twenty different directions. There's a point when you've taken on so much that work spills over in to your personal life and your personal life spills over to your work life. Eventually, you fail at something, whether you really failed or just believed you failed doesn't really matter because in your heart, you didn't give whatever you failed 100%. I need another me or another mini me to help me get back to 100% so I can feel like me again. Going in at 7:00am and leaving between 7:00 and 9:00pm still isn't enough work time to get caught up and I have nothing left to offer my family when I finally do get home. I won't give up though. I have a boss that believes in me and I know she has my back. I have a work team that continues to be high performers which allows me to focus on my to do list. I have a co-worker who makes me laugh my ass off every day. I have kids that give me hugs every night and a husband who understands when I just need a little shoe therapy. Last but not least, I have faith that the lord will not ask me down a path alone.

I'm feeling better just having written this down. Time to seal the deal with a bowl of cereal!

9-27-10

Rich has been waiting for an appointment to have a liver scan performed. Unfortunately, that wait time is approaching about 2 months. He keeps nagging me about the wait. I decided I would shut him up by sending an email to the nurse handling his Options case management.he got a call from her within the hour and appointment set up for tomorrow and I finally have him off my back. I'm not one for dropping names to push buttons, but apparently my name is well known enough. At least I was able to fix one problem today!

9-25-10

My kids tease me that I have no friends outside of work. They say that my sister and friend Godo don't count because Kellie is, well, my sister, and Godo is a friend that I met through work, even though we've been close friends for about 12 years. It isn't easy for me to open my heart to people because it seems I always have to say good-bye at some point.

My best friend growing up was Lara. We were pretty much inseparable from about 8 years old to 20 years old, the point when a very close friend of mine died in a car accident and my world sort of fell to pieces. I found myself walking numb in a life I didn't really understand anymore. Everyone around me just wanted to get high and I found myself suffocating in doubt and shattered dreams. My mom and step dad and I weren't really getting along for reasons I can't even recall. My world was dark and lonely. As much as I tried to make sense of it all, my sorrow kept pulling me under. One night, in a moment of weakness and despair, I took about 20 Tylenol PM's hoping to end the pain. Lara called me that night and sensing that something was wrong, but unable to get over to me, called our friend Nate. Nate came over that night and stuck his fingers down my throat and then made me drink coffee all night. In the morning he took me to a place where he worked as a volunteer and introduced me to a shrink who told me I didn't really want to die. He told me that I needed to focus on me and get away from the things that were weighing me down. As much as it hurt to know what I would have to leave behind, mainly Lara, I knew that he was right. I didn't want to be a part of a world that celebrated the memory of a friend by getting high and drinking, but that didn't mean I didn't want to be part of this world. I've never told anyone about that night. Partially because of the shame I feel when I think of the pain I would have inflicted on those that loved me if my attempt to kill my own pain would have succeeded and partially because it hurts too much to remember. Funny thing is that Robbie's death was the tipping point for saving my life. His death changed me and what I thought was important. I walked away from the person I was to become the person I wanted to be.

After phoning my cousin Nick in LA to see if I could come crash on his floor while I worked my way back in to school, I packed my bags and said good-bye to my family and friends in northern California, promising to pave the way so Lara could come join me soon. Lara and I wrote each other every week, each letter closed with a promise to meet up again. With each letter I wrote though, came a realization that bringing Lara to my future life would also mean bringing a past I couldn't bear any more. Guilt weighed heavy on my broken heart. She was literally my other half, and walking away from her because I was afraid of falling back in to a world of pot and beer bongs was the hardest thing I've ever done. I know she would have understood my reasons, but I didn't want to hurt her with my decision.
Slowly, with a chasm of broken promises and unspoken sorrow, we began to drift apart.

It took me a while to make friends in southern California. My cousin was away in Europe for the first month I lived here. Thankfully, I had my sister Kellie, who I idolized growing up. She had come down a few years before me, staying with Nick just as I had. Kellie lived with her boyfriend, Guy, at the time so I spent a lot of time hanging out with them and with my new friend Erin. My parents, who were mad that I packed up and moved away, actually called my cousin Nick while he was in Europe and told him I was having parties and taking his Mercedes out cruising. I didn't understand why they made up those lies, but my life was far from what they described and their accusations drove a wedge between us that just seemed to get deeper as the years have passes. Kellie helped get me a job as a waitress at The Bakery Cafe, where she also worked. I struggled with the new job at first, as it required me to open up to people. There was this crowd of kids about my age who came in twice a week after some meeting. They all drank coffee and chatted a few hours. After a month of waiting on the only people close to my age, I was frustrated that they had never asked me if I wanted to go do something and at last, I worked up the courage to tell them so. One of the guys innocently asked if I had gone out and done anything fun yet. All of that lonely frustration was unleashed on this poor unsuspecting guy. I went off on a tangent about how they were the only ones my age and that they had never once introduced themselves or asked me to go hang out with them.  They apologized and offered to take me out on Friday night for a motorcycle ride to the beach.  I was excited and my sister was pissed.  First for going out with people I barely knew and for riding on the back of a motorcycle that liked to go fast. Kellie made her boyfriend Guy come by the restaurant in his police uniform to make sure the group knew I needed to be brought home in one piece or he would have to shoot them before my sister did. That night was so exhilarating and it made me feel so alive. Alive like I hadn't felt in about 6 months.

Finally, I had some friends who I could hang out with and not worry about peer pressure working it's way in to disrupt my life with gin and tonic promises. These new friends went to meetings 2-3 times a week to share and support each other in their sobriety, which worked out perfectly for me.

Life was really starting to turn around. Spending time with Kellie and Erin was goods. I was on the right track going to school, working at night, working as a hair model in a few shows for free haircuts and styles, and then being a nanny to my boss’s kids while she was at work. The more I got involved in work and school, the freer I became. Still... There was this guilt that bore a hole in my heart.  My letters to and from Lara came less frequently.  I met Cesar as I was coming off a pretty intense relationship with a guy named Darryn.   I loved Darryn but our love wasn't meant to be.  Cesar was what some might call my rebound guy. He spoke no English, so I decided to learn Spanish.  Being young and foolish, we got married after dating for about 8 months in a little chapel in Las Vegas.  Needless to say, I got pregnant just as quickly.  I learned almost immediately after finding out I was pregnant that Cesar had problems dealing with stress and anger.  If our baby, who we named Lauren after my best friend Lara, would cry when he was trying to sleep, he would punch me in the back knocking the wind right out of me.  He was abusive and controlling, insisting that all of the can goods had the labels facing forward, his shoe laces were washed and ironed weekly, and everything was in perfect order... all of the time.  I didn't know this side of Cesar before we married and I was too proud to admit to my family that I had made a mistake and that I needed help getting away from him.  I knew I needed to get out of the hell I was living, but I had to plan my escape so I could take Lauren with me. Not a week would pass by without Cesar telling me that if I made him mad, he would take Lauren across the border and in to Tijuana and I would never see her again.  For an entire year, I walked on eggshells so as not to set him off. I took beating after beating, bearing them alone because I was too ashamed to tell anyone, even though secretly I wished someone would come save us.  There were countless nights when I went to bed and wondered if that would be the night he took my life.

Sometimes the only reason I kept on fighting was because I couldn't stand the thought of Lauren not being raised by me.  A pivotal moment came when Lauren at the age of two witnessed her dad pin me to the ground and try to strangle me.  She jumped on her fathers back and tried pulling him off me with all her might, the whole time yelling to him "no poppy no!”  He pushed Lauren off his back and unwrapped his hands from my throat.   Lauren, at the age of two, became my hero.  That night I vowed to do everything within my power to get us away from him.  I worked two jobs and skimped where ever possible.  If I wanted to make a personal call to my sister, I had to do it from work or from a pay phone because I wasn't "allowed" to answer our phone at home. We had basically become roommates, sleeping in separate rooms but playing by his rules, and his rules alone. Two weeks before I would have had enough money to move out and file for a divorce he came home in a really bad mood and instigated a fight and once again changed the course I was traveling. That night he chased me through out apartment complex, dragging me by my hair.  One of our neighbors called out her window asking if I wanted them to call the police.  I screamed yes just as I was diving away from one of his famous round kicks which missed my hip but landed solid on my right thigh. The police finally came and took Cesar away to jail.  I called my sister Kellie at 3:00 in the morning hysterical as I tried to explain everything that had happened over the past coupe years leading up to Cesar's arrest for spousal abuse. I wanted so badly to have Lara there with me. With her I was always strong, independent and confident. Cesar had broken me down both physically and emotionally. He left me feeling powerless, small, ugly, fat, undeserving of love, and anybody but who I really was.  My family rallied around me and I found the strength to change the direction of my life forever.  Over time, I found the strength and confidence I had as a teenager, but in tenfold.  I learned to forgive Cesar, because I knew I would never heal if I didn't.  I married an amazing man who could kick Cesar's ass in a heartbeat and never had to fear him again :-)

No.  I don't have a ton of friends outside of work, but it is because my best friends are my family.  My sister, my daughters, and my husband.  I'm going to find Lara again one day and when I do, I feel like our connection will still be there, just like when we were growing up.

Enough for now... more later.

Teenagers!

Amanda is one moody teenager today. It must be getting close to the time of the month where she starts craving lemon pepper wings from Wing Stop! Can't wait until she starts seminary on Monday. It should be sooooo much fun having to wake her up early to be at the church by 6:45 am.

A Man Named Jim

I've decided to start blogging more. I miss writing for me. This post is about an incident that made me proud of the person I've become and reminded me of the reason I love my job, the company I work for, and for my understanding of gospel principles. This story is about a man named.

I live in Monrovia, a charming city in the foothills of southern California. To avoid the commute traffic of our overcrowded freeways, I often take side streets to get home. On this particular Friday evening I noticed that traffic was extremely heavy, with cars backed up for about a two miles. As I slowly made my way up the hill to my house, I noticed an elderly man about 70 or so walking with a younger woman. My eyes caught a quick glimpse of a little red plastic object that the gentleman was carrying. Thirty yards up the street was an older model pick up truck with its hazard blinkers on. That's when the realization hit me that this older man had run out of gas and was attempting to walk down the hill to get gas from the chevron station about 2 miles down the road. Possible yes, going downhill wouldn't have been too hard, but the walk back UP the hill would have been difficult for anyone, not to mention someone in his seventies. Without a whole lot of hesitation, I did that thing my parents said I was never to do and whipped around the block to meet this man and lady at the corner and picked up a stranger. How dangerous could they be at there age?

Calling out my passenger window, I asked if they would like a ride to the gas station, to which the lady said, "Yes HE would". Turns out she was just trying to direct him towards a nearby bank. The man got in my car and introduced himself as "Jim". Jim said he needed to find a wells Fargo bank to get some money, so I went around the block, passing his broken down truck for a second time, as he started in to his touching story and the circumstances that led up to that moment. Jim told me he was on his way home from an appointment for a potential opportunity to do some handyman work fell to the wayside when the prospective client blew him out. He stopped at a gas station only to have his ATM card declined. Upon calling the bank, he learned they had put a five-day hold on the six hundred dollar government check he received for his wife's death benefits. Jim knew he had $4.00 in an account at Wells Fargo and was planning to go close out his account to get some gas money. My heart ached for his plight and my mind started calculating how long I would have to wait to have him close his account only to yield $4 bucks. It didn't take me long to figure out the right thing to do was to just buy this guy a tank of gas. 

On the way to the gas station I asked Jim when his wife had passed, to which he explained she died two years prior after loosing a battle with breast cancer which was diagnosed only after having progressed to stage four. After a few minutes of conversation, Jim asked me what I did for a living. I explained that I worked for Kaiser Permanente leading a preventive screening program that ensures our patients get the screenings they need to help prevent and diagnose cancer and other chronic conditions before they become a concern. Jim was quiet for a minute which made me think I had gone to techie with my description, but he broke the silence with a simple yet sincere comment that came out more like a statement than a question. Looking me in the eyes, he said thoughtfully "maybe if we had Kaiser they would have caught my wife's cancer in time." Fighting back the emotion that filled me, I looked at Jim and replied, "I like to believe that we would have.”

By the time we pulled in to the gas station I had made up my mind that I was not going to let this sweet man go with just a gallon of gas. I explained to Jim in a very determined voice that I had a plan. After I dropped him off with his emergency gas I wanted him to follow me back to the gas station so I could put some more gas in his truck because there was NO way his old truck was going to make it very far on a gallon of gas. Jim was stunned, but grateful. "How can I ever repay you?” I looked at him sincerely and said "you don't, you just pay it forward sometime to someone else who needs it". Jim smiled and agreed wholeheartedly. 

After fighting our way back through the traffic I pulled up behind Jim's truck and turned on my hazard signals. Jim poured the gas in his truck, carefully trying not to spill a drop, and then jumped in the truck to start it up. Sadly, nothing happened. Jim took a water bottle out, popped his hood, poured what was left in the bottle into his radiator, and then tried to start it up again.   Still... it wouldn't turn over.  A defeated Jim walked over to my car and said, "I guess we're out of luck.  I think I need to be jump started, but I don't have any jumper cables."  I smiled, thinking of the jumper cables my husband put in an emergency kit in my trunk so I would "always be prepared."  Getting Jim's truck started was no longer an act of charity; it was a MISSION!  We were going to get this truck started if we to stay their all night.   Using my crazy mad woman driving skills, I pulled in to the traffic that was creeping past Jim's truck, ignoring the honking horns coming from frustrated drivers, and flipped a u-turn so I could face Jim's truck and we could hook up the cables.   Hooking up the cables to my new Cadillac proved a chore in itself because every component of the engine is covered so it looks sleek and clean under the hood.   Finally, we found the right panel to move aside and Jim hooked up the cables.   Excited emanated from every pore as we stared at each other over our steering wheels and waited for the sound that was music to our ears.  We were so ecstatic that we were giving each other high fives in the middle of Foothill Blvd!  It was the most amazing rush of joy and satisfaction :-)

Our journey wasn't over yet though, we still had to make it to the gas station.  I lead the way keeping my eyes focused between the road and my rear view mirror, praying his old truck would sputter it's way over to the gas station down the road.  At last, we made it!  Now a whole new struggle began.  Getting Jim to allow me to FILL his tank with gas instead of just putting in the $20 we agreed upon.  It took some gentle, but aggressive persuasion and a story about how I had just had a promotion, which came with a raise, and I wanted to share my blessings.  (Okay, so the promotion and raise part happened about 8 months earlier - but he didn't need to know that)  I had to keep Jim distracted with conversation as the total sale ticker crept up to $70.  He tried to stop me twice, but us short women are also very stubborn.   When we finished filling up his truck, I gave him what we call a "pass along card" that provides information on how to get a hold of missionaries to receive a Bible and a Book of Mormon.   Jim read the card and smiled a beautiful smile and said "You're Mormon?  Now it all makes sense!"  Then he asked if he could give me a hug to which I accepted with open arms. 

Driving home I was so excited over my amazing experience that I wanted to share it with the world.  You see... Jim thinks I was the one who was the giver, but in my eyes, it was me who was receiver.  Jim reminded me of how wonderful it feels to serve others, to give freely without the expectation of reciprocation, to place your trust in someone else to help share your burdens, and to rejoice in the work that I am honored to do because I have the ability to help save lives every day.  I'll never forget that day or the wonderful man named Jim. 

Giving

"If you knew what I know about the power of giving, you would not let a single meal pass without sharing it in some way." Buddha

"Give what you have. To someone, it may be better than you dare to think." 

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

"Have I Done Any Good in the World Today?"

I stopped at WalMart on my way home from work tonight for some quick groceries and was approached by a lady with her two children who looked to be about 9 and 13. They were asking for money for food. The son, who seemed about 9 years old, was helping to translate what sounded like Hindu to English for his mother.  The daughter, who was about 13, kept her eyes averted away from me.  Part of me thought "oh man... "another beggar scam asking me to share my hard earned money", while, thankfully, the other side of me said "who am I to judge if this request is honest".

I offered them a box of granola bars that I had just bought, assuming they would just chuck it aside since it wasn't the money for which they asked. To my surprise and self shame, the mother had that box opened before I could pull out of my spot and was divvying up the granola bars for her kids, saving one for herself. The scene almost haunted me as I pulled away, knowing that my own kids would never even miss the box of granola bars.  Before I left the parking lot my heart and conscious brought me to my senses and turned me around to find them once more.  Lowering my car window, I reached out to give this needy family some money.  The mother looked at me as only a mother could, making eye  contact; mother to mother.  Quietly, she said the most sincere "thank you".  It nearly broke my heart.


As I drove home with my milk, bread, and Hostess Ding Dongs, the scene which had unraveled before me slowly started to sync in... the desperate plea of a mother, the gentle inquiry of a young boy, and the averted eyes of teenage girl who seemed to want to hide from life's circumstances.


May we all find room in our hearts to be grateful for all we have and remember to share with others what ever we can without judgment or question.

Matt

In you I see great strength
In character and will
I see a stand up young man
Who just tries to keeps it real
In you I see such depth
A soul that's young and old
One who can see beneath stories
For the truths yet to be told
In you I see a writer
Who scripts his own destiny
By believing in the power
Of becoming who you wish to be
In you I see honor and pride
Which is never righteous or proud
Your values are your armor
Which cover you like a shroud
In you I see the face of Christ
Wronged, but who kept forgiving
Your pain and scars are gentle reminders
The inspiration for the life you're living
In you I see a quiet reflection
Yet I wonder if you'll ever believe
How beautiful you truly are
So you'll appreciate the things in you I see

SISTERS

She is your mirror, shining back at you with a world of possibilities. She is your witness, who sees you at your worst and best, and loves you anyway. She is your partner in crime, your midnight companion, someone who knows when you are smiling, even in the dark. She is your teacher, your defense attorney, your personal press agent, even your shrink. Some days, she's the reason you wish you were an only child. ~Barbara Alpert
 

"With a little time, and a little more insight, we begin to see both ourselves and our enemies in humbler profiles. We are not really as innocent as we felt when we were first hurt. And we do not usually have a gigantic monster to forgive; we have a weak, needy, and somewhat stupid human being. When you see your enemy and yourself in the weakness and silliness of the humanity you share, you will make the miracle of forgiving a little easier."

Celebrating Nana's Life

Bertha Maude Whittier, born on August 23, 1912 in Trout Lake, Washington and one of 13 children born to the late Robert and Susan Myers, passed peacefully on April 2, 2010 at the age of 97 after a quiet visit with her family.

Bertha was a beloved mother and grandmother who opened her heart, her arms, and home to family and friends in need. She knew how to love freely and give generously. Bertha, known as “Nana” to all of her grandchildren, enjoyed writing letters to keep in touch with all of her relatives. The main love of Bertha’s life was Jack Bonito. He taught her how to square dance and they loved to travel in their motor home together. Jack died over 20 years ago. When he left, a piece of her heart went with him. We know that Jack and other family members were waiting to take her in to their arms and that missing piece of her heart was made whole again when she crossed the veil.

Bertha will be forever remembered by her daughters, Roberta Meditz and Bonnie Iwanski and their spouses Dave Meditz and Mike Iwanski, as well as her devoted grandchildren, Robert Robertson, Phillip Cooper, Kellie Saver, Kimberlie Howell, Kristen Andrews, and Kathy Geer. Bertha is also survived by 11 great grandchildren, and 2 great, great grandchildren.

Nana Letters Update

I received a letter from nana and I was actually thrilled to know she was still alive. Sounds pathetic and aweful that I wasn't sure, but I'm not sure my crazy aunt Berta would inform us if she passed on. Nana will be 98 this year and except for writing the same thing over 3 separate times, in the same letter, she is still hanging in there. This letter she spoke about breaking out of the home she is in and coming up to Los Angeles to stay with us "folk up here". Scary thing is, even though she is bedridden, I don't put it past her one bit. She is a fiesty young lady held captive inside an old woman's body. I would like to take a road trip to Oregon and visit with her before it's too late, but she has moved herself out to the backwoods of Oregon where no planes fly in to. I pretty sure she knows how much I love her, but that can't replace the loneliness she must feel being cooped up in an elderly home 24/7.

"In youth the days are short and the years are long; in old age the years are short and the days long." ~Nikita Ivanovich Panin