words of remembrance

Christmas was always Mom's holiday. I'm not sure what the holidays in Maryland will hold this year; but I know there will be a void and heavy hearts for all of us. The key is to cherish the memories and the good times (whilst sipping some Bailey's on the rocks.)

Having said that, I finally feel ready to share the words of remembrance from August...

Well, first everyone had a role in the past two years. Dad took care of the logistics and took mom to her bi-weekly appointments. Chris took Mom to CT scans and translated the medical-ease for those less savvy such as Dad and myself.  And then there’s me, who took it upon herself to be comic relief by default.  So if I make a fool of myself up here, it’s par for the course.

Case in point…at Mom’s CT scan in April, the director of oncology at Johns Hopkins said “Kids, your mom is one tough cookie”  and I immediately responded “That’s because she’s German.” Laughter briefly ensues. Not that Germans are strong-willed or stubborn at all. But while Mom and I were never truly at odds, we sometimes had a difference in opinion on the ways in which to do things (again, not German related or the previously mentioned fact I take after my dad’s side of the family). The most recent example came last Sunday, when our difference in cleaning styles – or my lack thereof – came to light. I was helping to vacuum, and mom informed me when I missed a spot (more than once, mind you). Part of me was incredulous that this was happening, but mostly I was smiling because that was Mom. I just hope she is not looking at my apartment right now…

I started really bonding with Mom went I went away to Marquette for college (absence makes the heart grow fonder right?).  Maybe it was the weekly phone calls; maybe it was that I started to think of mom as more than a mom, but a friend. We talked about everything from relationships to sports. Actually, a lot about sports, mostly football and NCAA basketball. Of course, I couldn’t have the Vikings as my 2^nd team, so I chose the rival Bears – also Dad’s team. But the NCAA tourney was our bread and butter – Mom groomed me as a bracketologist from the tender age of ten. And every year, we’d discuss our picks in depth after the selection show. I think my bracket only beat hers five times, but under her tutelage, I’ve been quite fortuitous in other pools. Those weekly phone calls continued until three weeks ago – her very last phone call to me was to wish me a happy birthday. 

Our bond really grew stronger during our three trips together (Baltic cruise 2006, Greece 2008, Spain 2010). And it is true that you don’t really get to know someone until you travel with them, or if you prep for travel with them. I did mention differences right? Mom started packing two weeks before each trip; I packed the night before each trip. Mom could not stand that, yet I was the one who never forgot anything. Mom couldn’t sleep on the plane; I fell asleep in the States and woke up in Europe. Some of my fondest (and funniest) memories of Mom happened on these excursions. During the Baltic cruise, I introduced Mom to karaoke for the first time. After every performance, she retorted “I used to like that song”. We also enjoyed Baileys on the balcony (which Mom smuggled on the ship). In Greece, whilst admiring the beauty of the Aegean Sea, Mom accidently dropped her digital camera into it. In Costa del Sol, Mom and I shared cheese and wine on the balcony – which was probably the best conversation I ever had with Mom. In Madrid, whilst dining with a bullfight on the tele in the background, Mom loudly was cheering for the bull. Thankfully, the people in the restaurant did not speak English. 

All kidding aside, Mom and I shared a love of photography, history and travel…so these excursions were a perfect combination. Although our styles were definitely different.  Mom was determined to get the exact name of every building, historical site, ruin, etc.; I also did to an extent, but also took picture of random people, dogs, alleys, etc. to get a feel of the culture. Mom undeniably looked like a tourist from the States; I passed for British…in fact, there were times where folks in our tour group in Spain asked if we were really related at first.  Then they started talking to us and realized that yes, yes we are related…because of our smiles and positive outlook on life.

I thought about that observation…and soon realized that the first things people notice about me are my positive attitude and smile (and yes, Dad I know you paid for my smile) – traits I definitely inherited from Mom. While Mom was slightly more subdued than I, one could tell that she could find the good in most things and enjoy life to the fullest. There was always some fiber of her being that believed that she would overcome this hurdle – as I (and everyone else) were also hoping and praying for the very same outcome. Even the last time I saw Mom, when she smiled she could still light up a room. 

However, it was that positive attitude (and stubbornness, hmm…strength) that helped Mom defy the odds. Mom fought this disease with more grace, courage, determination and positivity anyone could have imagined; in the future, I can only hope to face any adversity the same as she did.

Mom, you will never be forgotten and will always be in my heart – and I couldn’t have asked for a better mother. I love you…

i interrupt your christmas cheer...

The holidays are usually "a time for joy, a time for cheer" - but the recent events in Connecticut have put a somber curtain on the season and have many of us (further) questioning our own mortality.

A good friend and I have discussed this issue more often than I wish to admit, largely because both of our mothers are battling the same disease.  While it's a comfort to know that someone is going through the same wave of emotions, at the same time you wish this wasn't one of the bonds you were sharing. Then last night, his 31-year cousin unexpectedly passed away leaving behind two young children.

Death - even if it is inevitable - is sad and difficult. Period. Perhaps more so when it's unexpected. My friend and I discussed that notion last night. To reminiscence, I was very saddened by the passing of my granddad and both my grandmothers. However, I had mentally/emotionally come to terms with my grandmothers as their health was failing for quite some time. With my granddad, it was a shock - and while he was no more or less important - it weighed heavier on my heart because it hit like a ton of bricks.  But regardless of how many brushes with death one may have had, it still isn't easy.

I know both of us are ready (or as ready as one can be) for the passing of our mothers. However, no matter how prepared I may be, it still will be difficult as one of the most important people in my life will no longer be of this earth - but I know a part of her will always remain with me.

So this Christmas season, remember the good times and make new memories. Cherish times with family and friends.

You may now return to your Christmas cheer....and I'll join you.

alfie, the christmas tree

the holiday season is the one time of year I turn into a pseudo-sap and can get somewhat emotional. Christmas was - and still is - my favorite holiday. and while this Christmas may be bittersweet for obvious reasons, I'm fortunate enough to have Christmas memories and traditions to last my lifetime.

one of these traditions is the almost constant playing of John Denver and the Muppets: A Christmas Together CD. I'm really not sure how it came about, but to me Christmas isn't complete without it.  my favorite song on the CD has always been Alfie, The Christmas Tree (and much to the chagrin of everyone, I can still recite the whole song). 

to me, it simply yet eloquently states the "reason for the season"....




Did you ever hear the story of the Christmas Tree
who just didn't want to change the show?
He liked living in the woods and playing with squirrels, he liked icicles and snow.

He liked wolves and eagles and grizzly bears
and critters and creatures that crawled.
Why bugs were some of his very best friends, spiders and ants and all.

Now that's not to say that he ever looked down on the vision of twinkling lights,
or on mirrored bubbles and peppermint canes and a thousand other delights.
And he often had dreams of tiny reindeer
and a jolly old man and a sleigh full of toys and presents and wonderful things,
and the story of Christmas Day.

Oh, Alfie believed in Christmas all right, he was full of Christmas cheer.
All of each and every day and all throughout the year.
To him it was more than a special time much more than a special day,
It was more than a beautiful story. it was a special kind of way.

You see, some folks have never heard a jingle bell ring,
And they've never heard of Santa Claus.
They've never heard the story of the Son of God. And that made Alfie pause.

Did that mean that they'd never know of peace on earth
or the brotherhood of man?
Or know how to love, or know how to give? If they can't, no one can.

You see, life is a very special kind of thing, not just for a chosen few.
But for each and every living breathing thing. Not just me and you.

So in your Christmas prayers this year, Alfie asked me if I'd ask you
to say a prayer for the wind, and the water, and the wood
and those who live there, too.

"celebrating" one year...

mom & i in greece, 2008

It was a year and 11 days ago Sunday (19 August) that Mom found out her diagnosis of pancreatic cancer.  I found out a day later.  I don't think any of us knew what to expect, and to some degree, we still don't.

I went home for a week in mid-August to spend time with family which was much needed. I was mentally and emotionally prepared to see Mom without her wig, and it only freaked me out because she looked exactly like her mother (genetics, I tell ya). However, with the wig, you'd never know anything was wrong with her.  Fortunately, the chemo does not hinder her from doing daily activities or excursions (such as an Orioles game until 1 am) - but she does tire easily.  Again,if this is one of the only side effects, it's a win in my book.

I also had the opportunity to take her to her chemo appointment at Johns Hopkins during my visit. It was something I knew I had to do, and something I wanted to do - even with my dislike of hospitals (probably because I've been in too many of them). The appointment takes a full day; I really thought Dad was kidding about that.  However, after meeting Shawna (Mom's nurse) and other staff, I'm assured that she is in excellent hands.  Since I had plenty of time to sit and wait, I realized how well-off Mom is compared to other patients. Mom went up to register herself, didn't have a walker and doesn't have to wear a surgical mask (the germ factor). I was also shocked to see how young (and worse-off than Mom) some of the patients where - I'm sure about 33% where younger than me.  I came away appreciating my own health and in the grand scheme, allergies and crappy knees really aren't that big of a deal.

This has also been a learning experience.  I - along with my family - have researched pancreatic cancer extensively.  I won't talk about the statistics, as they are not uplifting by any means. Sadly, I've had three friends lose a parent to this disease; and Mom has survived longer than any of them.  The only good thing (if any) about that is that I have support from friends who know EXACTLY what is going on. But knowing is half the battle (thank you GI Joe) - the other is imparting that knowledge. I educate anyone who will listen - whether they want to hear about it or not.  The more who know, the more we can continue the fight.

Finally, this journey has made me fully aware of the power of the human psyche.  Attitude and the mind from which it springs is the biggest, baddest, and best weapon we have against this bitch of a disease. It's all about perspective - being angry or upset isn't going to help anyone at this point. Hope and strength will.

I have always said (and likely always will say) that I can only hope to handle whatever life throws at me with half the grace, courage and positivity Mom has exhibited in the past year. She truly is an inspiration to us all. 

for more information or to donate, check out the Pancreatic Cancer Action Network

orioles baseball, i missed you

I remember going to my first baseball game with my granddad, dad and brother when I was a couple months shy of seven years old. (note: I had the choice of the baseball game or my aunt's bridal shower.  Years later, given the same choice, I'd still pick the game). 

And that's how I got hooked on baseball.

Back then, my beloved Orioles played at Memorial Stadium - a great park but in a shitty area of "Balmer". Getting there was always an experience (I liken it to N. 27th St. & W. Fond du Lac in Milwaukee). We'd always go to at least couple games a year, and since my grandparents lived across the street from the play-by-play announcer, we'd always get some swag. In fact, I still have my stuffed Oriole bird. 

The Orioles moved to Oriole Park at Camden Yards (aka "Birdland") in 1991, and since I've lived out of state most of that time, I haven't been there often. Earlier this month, I finally got to return Camden Yards after a ten-year hiatus and finally saw a game...after a three-hour rain delay.

What else do you do at a ballpark waiting for the rain to subside? Talk Oriole baseball, and those memories came flooding back (pun intended).  Rick Dempsey using the tarp as a slip-n-slide during rain delays.  Earl "of Baltimore" Weaver throwing second base whilst in a argument with the umpire. Celebrity crushing on Jim Palmer (even to this day). Chants of "Eddie! Eddie!" whenever Eddie Murray came to bat. Anything involving Cal Ripken, Jr.

By coincidence, it was a "Legends" night. Eddie Murray's statue was unveiled at the ballpark, and each aforementioned Oriole was in attendance.  And for the first time in over a decade, chants of "Eddie! Eddie!" rang through Camden Yards.

And even if for a few moments, I was a kid at the ballpark in awe of America's pastime. 

christmas time

there's something about christmas time

that makes your wish it was christmas every day

to see the joy in the children's eyes

the way that the old folks smile

says that christmas will never go away

~ bryan adams, christmas time

Christmas has always been my favorite holiday (well, aside from my birthday - but one could argue that is not a holiday).  The way Mom decorates the house at Christmas, the various aromas of sweet goodies (especially my toffee), visiting with the extended fam (as it's the only time of year I usually see them), playing with my nephews (who are adorable and rock my world)....the list goes on.  There is just something warm and fuzzy about Christmas.  

I will be going back to DC/MD/VA for Christmas this year.  While the warm fuzzies will be there, I can't help to think that this year Christmas will be different yet special.

This year I'll be embarking on a journey I've never done - driving home by myself.   Just me, a Cayenne, 1500 songs on the iPod, 12 hours, six states and 700 miles of highway.  And yes, I know not to stop at the Hardee's on the Ohio Turnpike.  It also marks Cayenne's inaugural trip to the east coast - believe it or not.  I'm sure he'll be entertained by Gus, Mom's errant 1.5 year old Scottie. 

I'll also be at home for a week - something I haven't done this millennium.  Mainly this has been due to lack of PTO (paid time off), lack of a dogsitter, and monetary restraints (dogsitting ain't cheap...neither is airfare).  This year I have the time saved up and driving is cheaper in the long run.  However, there is really only one major reason I'm going for a week this year:  Mom.

As many know, my Mom is battling pancreatic cancer.  On Tuesday, we found out her tumor is currently inoperable (as it's entwined in the artery)...not the Christmas present any of us wanted.  So Mom gets eight weeks of aggressive chemo as a gift....although the docs are hopeful this will shrink the tumor and open the possibility to remove it.  We've all been practicing the same mantra:  hoping for the best, but prepared for the worst.  The best gift ever would be successful chemo, tumor removal and remission - even if that would happen a few months late.

Part of the harsh reality is this could be Mom's last Christmas - although I have faith in the doctors/health care professionals at Johns Hopkins, plus Mom's own resilience and positive attitude,  that it won't be. Call it being stubborn or being an eternal optimistic (or a little of both), but Mom will be around for more Christmases and birthdays. Regardless, this will be a special Christmas.

So this holiday season enjoy time with friends, family and loved ones.  Tell them you love them, enjoy their friendship, what have you.  If you've had a falling out with a friends, make amends.  

Life is too short not to cherish it, so savor every moment and make it count. 

Happy Holidays to you and yours!

that little hardware store

Birthdays tend to make one nostalgic...and apparently I am no exception. 

As I walked by the True Value on Downer Avenue Sunday afternoon, I was reminded how similar it was to Poch's Hardware in the Village (Potomac, MD).  Like the True Value, Poch's was nestled between a grocery store, restaurant and specialty shops.

Poch's was your quintessential neighborhood store.  I remember going to Poch's with my dad back in the day (prior to the big-box home store explosion) if he needed potting soil, nuts & bolts, lumber, etc.  Mr. Poch was behind the counter and he always had time to chat with the customers (and give a lollipop to the kids - it was a time this behavior was not considered "creepy").   I'm sure this "Village friendliness" has affected me - today I seem to small talk with cashiers at the store. 

In my high school years, I worked at a Hallmark store (which I blame for my like of funky pens) - one of those shops nestled in the Village, like Poch's.  And more than once, my dad would call and ask me to pick up something at Poch's, "because I was right there".  I should probably thank them for teaching me about drill bits, saw blades and other assorted tools. 

Sadly, Poch's closed near the turn of the century.  The Village reinvented itself and began catering to more "upscale" clientele, and I'm sure insurgence of Home Depot & Lowe's didn't help either.

However, I'll fondly remember Poch's and it's piece in my history of the Village. 

parental lessons learned

As most of you who read this blog know, the situation between my parents is fucked up to say the least.  If you ask me what their status is, I'll tell you "separated" although legally, they are still married.  However, Dad lives elsewhere but none of us knows where he actually lives or lives with.  I can speculate he lives either near Derwood or Annapolis and lives with his "girlfriend" - yet have no proof to back that up.  

Do I care that my parents are separated?  Obviously, I care but to be honest it was not a perfect marriage (not that there is one).  They had and still have their issues, but talking about things beyond the trivial is not the m.o. in my family.  Getting personal information is like pulling teeth.   If the outcome ends up being legal separation or divorce, it will affect my brother and I - but I think we'd much rather have something definitive than the bullshit that's going on now.  Besides, it already is affecting us.  I want them both to be happy and I'm fine with the final outcome, whatever it may be.  The road to that outcome has been relatively shitty (to Mom especially) which is really unfair to her (and to a lesser extent my brother and I).

But if anything good can come out of this, it's this: we can learn from our parents - whether directly or indirectly, intentionally or unintentionally - even in the least ideal of circumstances.  

1.  Be open and honest about your thoughts and feelings.  I have been - and if something pisses me off you know it (but if I like something you know it too).   Now it's to a greater extent, but in a more "politically correct" way.  I've even spoken up at work regarding some practices that I think are "questionable" - a practice I did not engage in before.  I figure it's better to speak up than stew about it, because in the end keeping quiet won't solve anything.

2.  Go beyond the trivial.  I'm quite fluent at small talk - which has it's merits in certain circumstances. However, in dealing with family and good friends, I think it does need to go beyond that.  My weekly talks with Mom usually center around sports, but this week she told me about a recent medical issue (and I'm the only one she's told...baby steps).  Of course, she sometimes forgets things so she freaked out when I told her about my biopsy which was negative (again).  Now maybe I'll actually tell her about Lexapro one of these days....

3.  Appreciate the family you have.  They sometimes get on your nerves.  But in the end you love them anyway, even if you don't like their actions.  Make the time to talk to them.  If anything, this situation has resulted in talking with my brother more often (and it is usually beyond the trivial).  I do wish I could see my nephews more often, and perhaps will find a weekend to visit this summer.  I would visit much more often if I lived closer, which is why it pisses me off that Dad doesn't visit them except for birthdays and holidays.  Now I just need to conjure up the balls to tell him that (amongst other things).  As a result, (spoiler alert) the nephews will be getting an Easter package from their auntie.  And then I'm looking forward to my brother's visit in 1.5 weeks. 

4.  Cut the bullshit.  Life is too short and quite frankly, none of us need it.  Instead of covering things up or trying to be covert, just come clean.  It'll make life more enjoyable for all of us. 

xmas, DC style

Well, it's now the 3rd day of 2011. The holidays have come and gone; and now it's time to get back to the grind known as "life"....

Yet it's never a bad idea to reminisce about the past, no matter how recent.

I did manage to sneak in a slightly more than 48 hour (52, to be exact) jaunt out to DC to visit the immediate fam for Christmas. The reasons for the short visit include the Caye-guy factor and the "interesting" situation with my parents (which could be a blog entry in and of itself) - oh, and a $135 plane ticket.

I spent Christmas Eve with Mom. Once I got home, I had to call Clyde's to make dinner reservations. Why this fine tradition has been bestowed upon me, I have no idea. But - 10 pm dinner reservations...check. Next on the list: gift wrapping. I started wrapping presents and, in typical fashion, Mom "commented" on my inability to cut a straight line whilst cutting the paper. You try cutting paper on a table not big enough for the gifts. Honestly, I don't think Gavin or Liam or Dad cared (or even noticed). A lot of tape and jagged edges later...gift wrapping complete. This was followed by going to Christmas Eve mass. Now, I am not a church-goer and as a result, I have been referred to as a "Santa Baby", meaning I only go to church on Christmas. Oh well. If it makes Mom happy, I can oblige. Maybe that's why she never objects to listening to "John Denver & the Muppets: A Christmas Together" CD repeatedly. (Note: Best. Christmas. CD. Ever.) Although I should have had Bailey's before mass, not after. Dinner at Clyde's, as always, was fabulous.

Christmas Day began with Mom & I opening presents, and eating sticky buns (and me picking off the icky nuts and giving them to Mom). This year, it was anti-climatic as Mom bought her gift previously (and I still had to wrap it) and I'd already gotten a chunk of mine ($$ for a LCD TV, which has yet to be purchased). However, I am happy to report that my Newsweek subscription is renewed until 2015. Dad came over, and it was off to my brother's for Christmas festivities.

(Yes, my brother hosted us, plus Kelly's mom & Willie, this year. Due to the "stellar" communication skills Dad's family possesses, no one got back to Mom so she decided not to host. Go Mom!)

Once in the car, Dad turned off the Muppets CD. Blasphemy! However, we got my brother's and I told him, so he put the Muppets on repeat. Three times of repeat. All was now well with the world. Well, I'm sure the large quantities of alcohol my brother and I were drinking helped too. I think Liam wanted in on the action too but he was brutally rebuffed.

And what is Christmas without presents? Bring it! Now, when there are a three and one year old around, there are LOTS of presents. It's crazy! My brother and I concluded that when you are an adult child, you get screwed at Christmas. Apparently the fleece blankets I made were a hit, even if Gavin thought the lizards on his blanket were frogs. Frogs, lizards...close enough right? And what Christmas would be complete without a visit from Santa? My only complaint...Santa indirectly called me fat (ummm...Santa could lose a few too). But the kids were entertained - loved it may be too strong of words. See for yourself...

Sunday consisted of watching football...and the Redskins actually winning by a field goal in OT. Funny, that's how they won when I was there in October as well. Oh and monitoring the weather for the blizzard that literally hit the coast. Seriously, DC got about an inch which resulted in safe travels back to Mil-town.

Overall, it was a good Christmas. On some level, I missed seeing my aunts, uncles and cousins even if I really have nothing in common with them. But family is family and there will always be that bond, whether I want it or not. However, seeing Gavin and Liam on Christmas more than made up for it.

Here's hoping you and yours had a happy holidays!

feels like home

Despite living in Wisconsin the better part of my adult life, I will always consider Maryland home. Yet I never plan to reside there (or on the east coast for that matter) again. In reality, I'm more suited for life in a Midwestern or Pacific northwest city.

But in honor of my "triumphant" return to my old stomping grounds this week, I give you the reasons you'll know I'm a Marylander for life:

• Everything tastes better with Old Bay.
• The only real crab cake is a Maryland crab cake - accept no imitations.
• Anything below 32 degrees is still considered cold.
• A 2" dusting of snow should still merit a 2-hour delay at minimum. Anything above 6" merits a snow day.
• It's pronounced "Merlind"; "Mareland" is acceptable. If you pronounce is "Mary land" I will punch you.
• Cal Ripken Jr. is revered as a god among men; he is our hometown hero and #8 forever in our hearts.
• “Fear the Turtle” is more than a saying; it's a way of life during tourney time.
• We shout "O" at the verse "Oh, say does that star spangled banner yet wave..." during the National Anthem (even at inappropriate times/events).
• "Coke" refers to any carbonated beverage. For example, "What kind of coke do you have?"
• Coolest. State. Flag. Ever.
• “Beer and football..that’s what Maryland does." (thank you, Wedding Crashers)
• And finally...the distinct Maryland "o". And no, I don’t say my “o’s” funny.

"crippling" snowstorm

You know it's bad when the meteorologist uses the word "crippling".

~ NBC4 website, 18 December 2009

Snow-pocalypse.

Shovelpalooza.

Whatever you want to call it, the DC area got smacked with a buttload of snow. My brother had about 13" of snowfall at 1 pm CST on Saturday, with a total upwards of 20" of the weather-created white stuff. The area hasn't seen a snowstorm, or blizzard if you will, the like of this in over a decade.

If the picture of my brother's deck is any indication, it looks like it'll be around for a while. I just hope they don't lose Liam in it.