A Stop and Smell the Roses Kind of Moment

Another oldie but goodie. This one is a bit more lighthearted.

Originally written March 18, 2007:

Ok, I had the most wonderful experience Friday afternoon driving home from work, and I just have to share this. Now, it's no secret that I love the summer and all it entails. Warm weather, swimming, summer storms, and that leftover feeling of freedom that summers as a kid meant...

On Friday, I had my first hint of how wonderful the summer's going to be. It's not quite here yet, as those of you here in Tallahassee with me can attest to right now -- I'm freezing my butt off and my fingers are going numb. But Friday was a much warmer day than we've had in, like, forever, it seems. I had just won 2 free movie tickets for a contest at work -- showing my St. Patrick's Day spirit. Ok, so what if it was just for wearing a green Lucky Charms t-shirt -- I wore the most green in my department, and so get to see 2 movies on their dime. I had also signed up to clean the refrigerator in my building's breakroom, so I knew I had 2 more free movie tickets coming my way. Woot! I had a pretty good day at work.

When I left work and got in my car, I revelled in the fact that the air was warm and getting in my car felt so good -- you know that feeling where you car's been shut up all day and the air inside it is bordering on hot. Well, for someone like me, who hasn't really been warm since about October, this was a wonderful feeling! Add to that, it was Friday, and the weekend was staring me in the face. I knew that Me, Joey, Rusty, Rebekah, and my little Sammy-pants had plans to go to Tom Brown Park on Saturday to fly kites, and was so looking forward to that. Bear with me here, I'm setting the mood...

So, it's warm enough for me to roll down my windows and open up the sun roof on my car. Once I hit the road, the air (the lovely, clean, fresh, warm air) started to circulate throughout my car, blowing my hair all to hell and back. Now, you girls can agree with me here, that when the air is blowing in your hair and you just don't give a rat's ass that it's going to look like birds live in it when everything's all said and done and you can just enjoy that sensation, it's almost as good as getting a scalp massage. My hair is almost to my waist again, and very curly, so I'm usually too worried about how I'm ever going to get a comb thru it to let the wind have its way with me, but something about this day just made me not care. I also had some kick ass tunes playing from the CD player, so I was thoroughly enjoying my ride. With the wind, the warmth, the music, and the freedom of knowing my weekend was only just beginning, I had the biggest grin on my face that I just could not hide. I can't even begin to describe the feeling of total freedom and enjoyment that I felt. I didn't even care how retarded I might have looked to everyone else on the road with me -- I just grinned from ear to ear, singing at the top of my lungs, weaving in and out of traffic (I love driving on a 3 lane road for this reason) and letting the wind have its way with my hair.

I did glance in the rear view mirror at one point, and let me tell you, my hair looked like it belonged on a poodle that had been chewing thru an electrical cord, but I didn't care. I did experience some disappointment at nearing the turn to my street, but was so thankful for that 15 minutes of abandonment that not even going home to a crappy environment could diminish my overall feeling of rejuvenation and sense of well-being. To everyone who reads this, I hope that you, too may experience this at some point in the very near future. I, myself am looking forward to many more days such as this in the coming summer months. No matter what may get you down, it's moments such as these that make even the bad times worth it. I know that I am going to grab as many of these moments as I can. LOOK OUT, SUMMER, HERE I COME!!!!

Bittersweet

Written January 25th, 2008, this is an old blog from my myspace page, but one that I felt the need to re-post here on my new site. Warning, it's sad, but these are words I can't actually say so easily...

bit·ter·sweet:
-adjective - Producing or expressing a mixture of pain and pleasure

You would think, how could something produce a mixture of both pleasure and pain? At the same time? You either like something or you don't, right? You either feel good or you feel bad? I could imagine a parent feeling this sensation, maybe sending a kid off to college, or watching them move out and strike off on their own path. You've done all you can, you've (hopefully) instilled in them values, honor, a strong sense of right vs. wrong, and a nice dollop of self worth. Desperately wanting to keep them safe by your side and in your house, yet proud at the same time that they are ready to go make their way in this world. Not having kids myself, I could only previously imagine that this is the type of situation where the word bittersweet would adequately express your emotions.

More recently, I finally understood how something can be termed "bittersweet."

Somewhere around the beginning of 2007, I had seen a Hospice tag on a car and thought it was just such a pretty tag, and for such a worthy cause. I decided that next time I needed a new tag, I may get one. Then Mother's Day hit, and with it, the news that my dad wasn't feeling so good in the tummy area, and my mom was having to make him eat. Anybody who knew my dad knows that you NEVER had to MAKE him eat. :) Just before Father's Day, Daddy went into the hospital (and yes, I will always call him Daddy no matter how juvenile it sounds). My Father's Day visit took place in the VA hospital in Gainesville. What a shock to see him look so fragile since the month before! He's lost a lot of weight, and he looked so tired.

The doctors found nothing in his blood work or any of his numerous scans to indicate what was wrong, except for a "darker spot" on his liver. Much more testing and several stays in the hospital later, we found out that he had liver cancer. That was the absolute worst day of my entire life (up to that point), and I prayed harder than I've ever prayed in my life for it to be treatable, and for him to get through this. Sadly, we found out that this was not to be. Luckily, I had already arranged for some time off around the 4th of July to go home and hang with "the brothers," as I call them, for there are SO many of them. Now, this trip would not be to celebrate a holiday free from the responsiblity of work, but to squeeze in some time with Daddy, who had been given about 6 months to live. Only, when I got there, it became painfully obvious that he would not last the month. It was during this week that I became very acquainted with exactly just how bittersweet one can feel.

I spent every moment both he and I could tolerate during that week with Daddy. Telling him I loved him so much, rubbing his back, smoothing his hair, holding his hand, or just sitting next to him and feeling him against my side and his shoulder under my cheek. That week was so hard and painful, but in so many ways, the best week ever. Daddy would tell me he loved me every time I came into the room during that week, and I would do the same. He was never one to say "I love you" very often, but I knew it. It was an unspoken truth, a truth neither one of us ever doubted. Here was our chance to make up for all those times we didn't say it, and boy did we ever!

I wanted so badly for that week to last, but it hurt me so unbearably to see him in so much pain! Half of me wanted to just go on like that forever, so loving and cherishing every moment, and the other half prayed for it to be over soon for him. Instead of guilt, there was sadness for this thought -- I would not wish that kind of constant pain on any person or thing that had ever experienced consciousness! He was so sick and hurting, I don't know how he lasted as long as he did. Every morning, I would be so surprised at how much worse he was, and that he was still breathing. We were in constant alert for his passing. But while I was there, I made sure to cherish every second I had with him. Later, one of "the brothers" thanked me for being there that week and helping my mom, but I told him I didn't need thanks, as I was there for purely selfish reasons.

I left on the Sunday after July 4th, heartbroken, emotions torn to shreds, and feeling like I was being violently ripped from the only place in the entire universe I wanted to be just then. I suspected that this would be the last time I would see Daddy alive, and when I went to say goodbye, he was sleeping. I just lay in the bed next to him for a few minutes, watching him sleep, then I kissed his hand and whispered one last "I love you, Daddy," and left him. Thank God for Rebekah -- she had stayed behind when my brother left earlier. She knew I would be in no shape to drive the 3 1/2 hours home to Tallahassee. After promises from me to return Friday after work, we started on our way. I didn't even make it to the end of the road before I completely broke down.

The Thursday after I left, the day before I was going to return, my Daddy passed away around 9:30 am. When my phone buzzed, and I saw who was calling me, I knew immediately what the news would be. The relief and the grief bombarded me instantly, and I was re-acquainted with bitter sweetness. I thought I had been prepared for this, had been expecting this phone call since the moment I left my family standing on my parents' porch, waving goodbye as Rebekah and I drove away. Silly rabbit, there's no preparation for something like this. The truth is, no matter how I had thought I was ready for him not to suffer anymore, I still wanted more time. Me being selfish again, I suppose.

The hardest moment of my life was to come later, at the funeral home. I held up somewhat ok until it was time to leave Daddy's viewing. I just could not bring myself to walk out that door, knowing the next day was going to be the funeral, and not knowing if I would be able to stand there again, looking at him and whisper "I love you" one more time. He looked so peaceful, like he was just sleeping so restfully, and I found I wasn't able to leave quite just yet. Cody and Joey stood there with me, just putting their arms around me and hugging me. I just stood there, being held, looking over their shoulders at that wonderful man lying there, feeling like if I tore my eyes away for one second, he would disappear. I felt that this was my last chance to look upon that face that I loved so much, and would miss so dearly, and wished with all my heart that I could just hear him say those 3 little words again.

Ok, so I got a little morose there... With all of that said, I must now move on to the reason for this post. While my dad was sick, the VA paid for Hospice to come in and help out. I don't remember my dad's nurse's name -- it was a very hard time, but I have to say that this lady was an absolute angel. I truly believe that these people, these wonderful, caring, generous, genuine people who work for Hospice are God sent. It takes a very special person to do what they do on a daily basis. I cannot imagine what it takes to go to work and watch terminally ill people get sicker and sicker and die every day. She stopped by my mom's a few days after Daddy had passed, and was just so caring and asking if there was anything she could do for my mom. She said that if Mom needed her, just to call her and she'd come as soon as she could. Here's the thing -- you may say that she was just doing her job, and she may well have been, but she was so genuine, so concerned, and so eager to help. I refuse to believe that this simply falls under "just doing my job." These people are so very special, and I do so hope they get the appreciation, the support, and the attention they deserve.

I had made a promise to myself after Daddy passed. Whereas before, I thought the Hospice tag was pretty and a good cause, now I vowed to buy one and support the special people who make the end so much better for so many people. My birthday is Monday, the 28th, and today I went and fulfilled that promise to myself and bought my hospice tag when I renewed my registration. Upon walking out of the tax collector's office, I found the biggest smile on my face, hugging that beautiful tag close to my chest. As I walked to my car (which was like, a mile away), I found myself smiling at random people in the parking lot, whom I'm sure all thought I was bananas. Before long, though, I was back in the company of my recently acquired friend, bitter sweetness. By the time I made it to the car, there were tears mingled with that smile, and I had to take a few moments to let all that emotion out before driving back to work. I spent the rest of the afternoon at work alternately crying and looking lovingly upon my new tag. When I got home today, I immediately found my trusty screwdriver and attached it to my car. I am very proud of my tag, and will cherish it as a link to Daddy.

Next time you go to renew your vehicle registration, give a look to that wall. You know the one I'm talking about -- the one with all the specialty tags on it. Give it a harder look, and see if there's something you feel needs your support. I'm not saying one group is more important than another, but there are groups up on that wall that can do people good with our donations. At least consider it. There's so much more meaning up on that wall than a pretty tag.

And as for you, bitter sweetness, I'm onto your game now.