Tuesday, May 30, 2006

Carpe Diem

"So what would you think of me now?
So lucky, so strong, so proud
I never said thank you for that
Now I'll never have a chance

And if you were with me tonight
I'd sing to you just one more time
A song for a heart so big
God couldn't let it live
May angels lead you in"
- "Hear You Me"
Jimmy Eat World

It was so sudden - she was here one day and gone the next.
Go in there, they said, tell her everything you want to say. But how do you say everything to someone you are used to talking to whenever, about anything and everything?
I simply told her that I loved her. I loved her so much. But I thought we would have the next day, and we didn't.
We arrived at the hospital minutes after she passed away, and the nurse on duty had been by her side when it happened. I wanted answers; I wanted something rational to balance my emotional feelings.
"Isn't it hard to have this job?", I asked her. After all, it seemed so difficult to watch people in pain, the patients and the families. A cardiac care unit experiences death almost regularly - not like other units where recovery and hope are the norm.
"Yes, it is hard to have this job. But it teaches you one thing. There is only one certainty in life." she told me, "And that is, we all have our time."
At the time, her response, while calming, seemed trite.
When I went home that night, I finally understood what she told me. The certainty in death is knowing that you can't expect a next day, a next hour, or a next moment, as I did with my Nanny. The one you have could be your last.
Life is short. She may have lived eighty four years, but I was only able to spend twenty seven of mine with her. I am grateful, looking back at memories of time we spent together, but feel that many of her dreams for me were left unfulfilled. She wanted nothing more than to see me get married, find a career that makes me happy, and have children. I only wish I could have accomplished these feats while she was with me.
I am left with a renewed sense of "the big picture", of what's truly important.

Being with my family and friends, showing the love I feel for them, every moment of every day.

Having time for people, making time for people.

Finding "true love" - the kind that makes your heart shine; finding the person that you will love even more, sixty years from today. The person who you would leave the Earth for, just to be with in Heaven.

Embracing a purpose in life that matters - pursuing a dream that has been put aside.

Living in the moment - not in the reckless, careless way - but in the way that reminds you there may not be another opportunity to do so.

I only hope that when I do accomplish all of this, she is looking down on me and seeing what she taught me. A day won't go by that I don't wish things could be different, that I could still have her with me. But I can find peace in knowing that her both her life and her passing reminded me of the life I want to lead.

Thursday, May 18, 2006

A Map for Life

"'Cause every once in a while
You think about if you're gonna get yourself together
You should be happy just to be alive
And just because you just don't feel like comin' home
Don't mean that you'll never arrive"
- "Move On"
Jet


As many times as I have been told not to compare my station in life to others, I generally find it difficult to resist. Life always appears more promising when one facet of it appears to be headed down a clear path. Not just any path, but one with promise of a better future.
Lately, it seems as though my life cannot get itself together, nor can it find a promising path. My job future always seems questionable - I can not tell someone of my professional plans five months out, let alone five years out. Marriage? A family? Also seems to be in the abyss of the unknown.
I once said that I wished that when you were born, you were handed a piece of paper that clearly detailed your life plan - it would tell you what jobs you would take, who you would date and consequently marry, and how your entire life would be. I initially saw no failings in this idea - after all, you would know how everything would work out, and you wouldn't be left feeling discouraged when life seemed awry. After all, everything would work out just fine.
The more people I proposed this idea to, the more resistance I received. What if your life path wasn't positive? What if you were born knowing that life was not going to hand you any rewards, and it would always be negative and difficult? At least with the unknown, you can always hope for change and improvement.
What if you wanted to make a mistake? Take a job that you knew would never help your future, date a guy who you knew would break your heart? A planned life would leave no room for such dalliances - only preplanned certainty.
Having a stable job, a relationship with a future, or even being financially sound - they all sound perfect in theory. After all, it's better to have something on the right path, than the wrong path. But what about no clear path at all?
When I become bogged down in the details of the future, I need to tell myself to focus on what's good at the moment. Sometimes it feels like life may never come together, when the pieces fail to fit. But we should be grateful we don't have a life plan -- the uncertainty is what gives us hope and a reason to seek happiness.

Thursday, May 04, 2006

Imitation domestic bliss

"You look like you could do with a friend, she said
You look like you could use a hand
Someone to make you smile, she said
Someone who can understand
Share your trouble
Comfort you hold you close and I can do all of these
I think you need me here with you"
- "Wendy Time"
The Cure

The morning sun would shine through my blinds, I'd roll over and he would be there with me. There was something magical about those days. Some mornings we would be rushed - we had gotten in late the night before, I would be getting ready for work. He would look at me through one barely opened eye and smile, as I scrambled around my room in the dark looking for a pair of matching shoes.
Running errands together always seemed better than usual. Grocery shopping became a hobby for us - navigating the cart through the store, picking through the produce, choosing the perfect bottle of wine to go with the meal we had planned for that evening.
I would cook dinner, he would read in the other room with the television on for background noise. He would share passages from whatever book he was reading, I would comment on the meal I was preparing and share stories from the day.
I hated cooking to simply feed myself. Food was meant to be shared, over a table, over conversation. I would prepare elaborate meals from cookbooks, appetizers, salads, desserts.
He knew I despised doing the dishes and cleaning up. I would pick up around the house while he did the dishes - sometimes I would pitch in by drying them and putting them in the cabinets.
He knew my routine - I liked to take my bath at night, and then put in a movie that we both knew I would never stay awake to finish. We would relax on the air mattress that now lived in the middle of the living room - the couch was simply not meant to comfortably fit two.
There was a feeling of comfort, a feeling of safety, and a feeling of calm. The ordinary events of each day seemed better - more purposeful when shared with another.

"So quit your life and stay with me
We’ll order in and watch TV
We’ll paint the house and wash the car
We’ll take a walk but not too far
So quit your life and stay with me"
- "Quit Your Life"
MXPX




Wednesday, May 03, 2006

The value of forgiveness

"Cause I don't blame you anymore
That's too much pain to store
It left me half dead
Inside my head
And boy, looking back I see
I'm not the girl I used to be
When I lost my mind
It saved my life"
- "Light Years Away"
MoZella

When he and I broke up, everyone thought I should let it go -- I wanted us to be friends.
No, everyone countered, a friend wouldn't have treated you the way that he did. Remember that anger, remember that hurt, and move on. Don't look back, it's the worst thing you can do.
My sadness quickly turned to anger - it was unfair that things ended the way that they did. He was to blame. If I could remember that I was angry, the pain wouldn't be so bad, I thought.
One of my favorite movies is "American History X". Near the end of the movie, the younger brother is writing a paper, and his conclusion is this - "Hate is baggage. Life's too short to be pissed off all the time. It's just not worth it."
It wasn't worth it for me to be angry. I could not control his choices, but I could control how I felt about them, how I felt about him, and how I felt about myself.
I didn't want to hurt; I did not want to be angry anymore.
I chose to forgive him and to move on.
Deep down, I believed that he wasn't a bad person, a person worthy of anger and blame. He was simply a flawed person like the rest of us, who had made less-than-good decisions where my heart was concerned.
Over the next year, I was able to move forward and forgive him for hurting me. I had the option to be angry, to let him hurt me for longer than we had spent together. But why?
It eventually became easier to let go. To forgive him for his mistakes, allow him to regain my friendship, and to realize that simple decision was truly what saved me in the end.

Tuesday, May 02, 2006

Change for the better

"I thought that if I didn’t go and play
The sadness would get bored and go away
I thought that if I didn’t go astray
That all my pain would be in yesterday
But it’s true
I’m still blue
But I finally know what to do
I must quit, I must quit, you"
- "Coffee and Cigarettes"
Michelle Featherstone

Back from vacation -- day one of reentering reality.
Exiting reality and living in an altered vacation world for just four days made me happy. It made me happy and gave me a temporary sense of calm and clarity.
I wanted to change my life - I wanted to make big, sweeping changes when I returned, in hope of keeping the feeling alive that I had experienced while away.
I would be better with my money, as to get out of debt sooner and be back on my own feet. Being on my own would allow me more control of my own decisions, therefore ensuring my own happiness, or at least my control over it.
I would start eating better and get back to working out. There was a time when I ran every day - I had a sense of purpose to be training for something, and I remember feeling accomplished each time I completed a workout. I quit when J and I started dating. I have no idea why I never went back.
Something in these lyrics spoke to me - you quit something or change one specific thing in hopes of seeing a bigger result. The initial step seems easy...well, not necessarily easy, but small and quantifiable.
I once read that it takes just a few weeks to change a habit. How long does it take to change a way of life?
How long does it take until you wake up happy, accepting of what your life is giving you, and able to recognize the opportunities that await you?
Now that I am home, it seems like my ambition has faded. I want to make these changes; I want to watch my life explode into something great. It just seems harder to do when actual life presents itself, not the altered state of vacation-mind.