they say that there's nothing more challenging than having a second kid, that there's a big difference from playing zone to going man-to-man.
i say bring it on.
hello, luke.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Friday, February 11, 2011
how i can't believe it's been two years
i miss you, mom.
it's not getting easier, but it's just getting so much different that life is just resembling something else entirely. don't confuse that with missing you less. that's not it at all.
i've evolved to the point where i've accepted this fate, and it sucks.
it sucks.
i just wish you were here to enjoy the life we're making for ourselves.
love you.
your son.
Friday, October 29, 2010
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
how we have one last morning
We don't want to leave Hawaii. It's been a paradise, not just for the setting but for the amazing time the three of us have spent here.
But still, reality awaits 2,000 miles away, and we need to return. But first, a final goodbye.
We woke up early to have one last meal at the Wialana Coffee House to have a final serving of the best pancakes ever.
Then we walked down to say goodbye to the pigeons.
And then, a final goodbye to the parrots.
And then, not only a final goodbye to the koi, but a big hug from Wyatt.
Then we walked down to the pier and said goodbye to the fishies that he swam with.
And, as if on cue, we looked out, and guess what we saw.
Goodbye, Hawaii.
Mahalo.
But still, reality awaits 2,000 miles away, and we need to return. But first, a final goodbye.
We woke up early to have one last meal at the Wialana Coffee House to have a final serving of the best pancakes ever.
Then we walked down to say goodbye to the pigeons.
And then, a final goodbye to the parrots.
And then, not only a final goodbye to the koi, but a big hug from Wyatt.
Then we walked down to the pier and said goodbye to the fishies that he swam with.
And, as if on cue, we looked out, and guess what we saw.
Goodbye, Hawaii.
Mahalo.
Monday, October 25, 2010
how we're leaving Hawaii with a great taste in our mouths
Today was our last full day.
And with our daily schedules changed over the weekend, it was time to get back on it.
So we headed back to the beach, playing the game where I stand in the ocean, with the water as high as Wyatt’s neck, and he runs to me from the shore and back again. That never gets old, even though what was new was the slight rainfall and slightly brisk weather. WTF, Hawaii. Indeed. WTF.
But the sun suddenly peaked out and the rain dried up, so much so that it gave us a chance to do something we wanted - renew our vows. I researched getting time at the chapel from the resort. It would have cost us $750 for a 60 minute ceremony.
But to me, all the pieces I wanted were right here right now - Hot Mama, Wyatt, Hawaii and a break in the weather.
So while sitting on the beach, with the waves crashing behind us and with Wyatt building sand castles, I took her hand and told her these words once again:
I, Steve, take you, Lisa,
To be my lawfully wedded wife,
To love and honor,
To respect and cherish,
To offer undying loyalty and endless sacrifice.
And I dedicate my life
To be an exceptional husband,
A responsible and caring parent
And forever your best friend.
I promise all of these to you unconditionally
With every breath I take.
Perfect. And free.
But then again, perfect turned to slightly unpleasant – enough so that we decided to take our talents to the pool. Wyatt and I jumped in and he rode the horsie, but it wasn’t as much fun in slightly colder weather (and slightly colder water).
And once we left the pool, we got rained on again. But it was time for a nap anyways, so it kinda worked for us.
Especially when you consider that it was a three hour nap.
Sweet.
We woke up in time to eat. Hot Mama and I decided to save our gift cards for an amazing dinner at the end of our vacation. Of course, I wanted a steak house. I would have settled for a posh restaurant.
Our concierge recommended The Cheesecake Factory.
Really?
Luckily, Hot Mama is still hip, and she knew, somehow, that Ian Schrager just opened up a restaurant in Waikiki, and that we should find it and eat there. And we did, in the rain, find standing tall and lit, Morimoto, owned and operated by an Iron Chef and residing in the Edition. Awesome.
We cashed in our Visa Gift Cards and decided to eat the Chef’s Choice, a seven serving tasting menu daily created by the Iron Chef himself.
Here’s what we ate, I think:
We began with tartar served into our mouths with tiny little shovels
That was followed with hot oiled seared sashimi with carpaccio and amberjack.
Then we had something called bagnacauda, which is Italian for "hot bath", which is olive oil heated in a porcelain jar that you dip vegetatbles and chicken in,
That was followed with chawanmushi, which is egg custard flavored with foie gras and Hudson valley duck breast.
At that point, we had an intermezzo called Kombu chai to clean the palate. It’s a tea that tastes like saltwater. Doesn’t sound delicious, but it was.
We then had five pieces of sushi, my favorite being the thai japanese red snapper.
This led up to the main dish, the surf and turf - Wagyu beef, lobster with a strong hint of garlic and peanut pork loin
We ended with soy milk pennecotta which tasted just like creme brulee, followed by a piece of pumpkin pie and gelato.
And throughout, I drank a glass of Martin Ray 2007 Pinot Noir from the Russian River.
There will always be meals we remember for various reasons. Some because of what they signified. Some because of where they were. Others because of how they tasted.
This meal will be remembered for all of them.
And Wyatt was a perfect angel throughout.
---
Read Day Seven
And with our daily schedules changed over the weekend, it was time to get back on it.
So we headed back to the beach, playing the game where I stand in the ocean, with the water as high as Wyatt’s neck, and he runs to me from the shore and back again. That never gets old, even though what was new was the slight rainfall and slightly brisk weather. WTF, Hawaii. Indeed. WTF.
But the sun suddenly peaked out and the rain dried up, so much so that it gave us a chance to do something we wanted - renew our vows. I researched getting time at the chapel from the resort. It would have cost us $750 for a 60 minute ceremony.
But to me, all the pieces I wanted were right here right now - Hot Mama, Wyatt, Hawaii and a break in the weather.
So while sitting on the beach, with the waves crashing behind us and with Wyatt building sand castles, I took her hand and told her these words once again:
I, Steve, take you, Lisa,
To be my lawfully wedded wife,
To love and honor,
To respect and cherish,
To offer undying loyalty and endless sacrifice.
And I dedicate my life
To be an exceptional husband,
A responsible and caring parent
And forever your best friend.
I promise all of these to you unconditionally
With every breath I take.
Perfect. And free.
But then again, perfect turned to slightly unpleasant – enough so that we decided to take our talents to the pool. Wyatt and I jumped in and he rode the horsie, but it wasn’t as much fun in slightly colder weather (and slightly colder water).
And once we left the pool, we got rained on again. But it was time for a nap anyways, so it kinda worked for us.
Especially when you consider that it was a three hour nap.
Sweet.
We woke up in time to eat. Hot Mama and I decided to save our gift cards for an amazing dinner at the end of our vacation. Of course, I wanted a steak house. I would have settled for a posh restaurant.
Our concierge recommended The Cheesecake Factory.
Really?
Luckily, Hot Mama is still hip, and she knew, somehow, that Ian Schrager just opened up a restaurant in Waikiki, and that we should find it and eat there. And we did, in the rain, find standing tall and lit, Morimoto, owned and operated by an Iron Chef and residing in the Edition. Awesome.
We cashed in our Visa Gift Cards and decided to eat the Chef’s Choice, a seven serving tasting menu daily created by the Iron Chef himself.
Here’s what we ate, I think:
We began with tartar served into our mouths with tiny little shovels
That was followed with hot oiled seared sashimi with carpaccio and amberjack.
Then we had something called bagnacauda, which is Italian for "hot bath", which is olive oil heated in a porcelain jar that you dip vegetatbles and chicken in,
That was followed with chawanmushi, which is egg custard flavored with foie gras and Hudson valley duck breast.
At that point, we had an intermezzo called Kombu chai to clean the palate. It’s a tea that tastes like saltwater. Doesn’t sound delicious, but it was.
We then had five pieces of sushi, my favorite being the thai japanese red snapper.
This led up to the main dish, the surf and turf - Wagyu beef, lobster with a strong hint of garlic and peanut pork loin
We ended with soy milk pennecotta which tasted just like creme brulee, followed by a piece of pumpkin pie and gelato.
And throughout, I drank a glass of Martin Ray 2007 Pinot Noir from the Russian River.
There will always be meals we remember for various reasons. Some because of what they signified. Some because of where they were. Others because of how they tasted.
This meal will be remembered for all of them.
And Wyatt was a perfect angel throughout.
---
Read Day Seven
Sunday, October 24, 2010
how nobody comes out unscathed
According to Wikipedia, there are eleven volcanoes on Oahu, none active. The most famous one is Diamond Head, which is right beside us in Waikiki.
Well, there's a twelfth one that's two years old, and he erupted today. He was due.
If you have one and are vacationing here, don't do what we did.
We rented a car to check out more of the island and to attend Stacie and Kris' post wedding barbecue. We drove to this place called Pini Lookout, where we were able to look out over the south side of the island. Mark Twain called that exact spot the most beautiful view on earth. He may have been right. But I also know he never sat poolside at the Viceroy.
Wyatt loved it and didn't want to leave. We promised to show him more of Hawaii. That seemed to appease him.
Tick. Tock.
We then headed to a beach in Lanikai, which is the part of Hawaii that Hot Mama wanted to show me - unfiltered, not touristy, just pure. It might be the most beautiful beach on earth. Mark Twain, it's your move. I challenge you to find one better.
We swam, snorkeled and played in the sand and butted heads with Wyatt's nap time, which he refused. He wanted more Hawaii.
Tick tock.
We then drove to Stacie's aunt's place in Kailua, then followed a caravan to Waikane at her cousin's place for the BBQ. And throughout, Wyatt stayed awake, overstimulated by everything he saw.
Tick tock tick tock.
Their place is amazing, a quaint open house with property that leads put to a private dock and peninsula. Wyatt was so inspired by this that he turned into an insatiable tornado. He wanted to paddle board. No, canoe. No, swim. No, take a boat. No, paddle board again. No, boogie board. Every minute, a new whim. But it wasn't his time or place yet, and he had to calm down.
Ticktockticktockticktock.
He had a tantrum. Then another. Then another. He actually demanded that we give him a time out. He refused to listen. It was now three hours past nap time, and...
KABOOM!
Ladies and gentlemen, friends, family and readers of this blog, I have faced my share of physical turmoil in my life, from torn ACLs to running a marathon with tendinitis.
I don't think either could compare to putting an overtired two-year-old into his car seat.
If we had a virgin handy, we would have sacrificed them to make our lives easier.
Twenty minutes later, after steady streams of sweat flowed down our backs, Hot Mama and I finally strapped him in and drove home, having not eaten any BBQ, stopping only to pick up some fresh Huli Huli chicken from a shop on the road. He passed out for about twenty minutes then reawoke, not happy but somewhat eased.
When we got here, we chose to pick a room without a view because if he were stuck inside, it would be a loss.
We spent the rest of the night inside with a calm volcano that was as sweet as any cupcake could be. We ordered takeout and watched TV, laughed, wrestled and played.
Do we now consider staying inside to be a loss? No.
It's merely survival. Cute, charming, cuddling survival.
Nothing in life is perfect. You just have to roll with it and make due with what you've got, even if that's Spongebob and chicken fingers in a Hilton.
---
Read Day Six
Well, there's a twelfth one that's two years old, and he erupted today. He was due.
If you have one and are vacationing here, don't do what we did.
We rented a car to check out more of the island and to attend Stacie and Kris' post wedding barbecue. We drove to this place called Pini Lookout, where we were able to look out over the south side of the island. Mark Twain called that exact spot the most beautiful view on earth. He may have been right. But I also know he never sat poolside at the Viceroy.
Wyatt loved it and didn't want to leave. We promised to show him more of Hawaii. That seemed to appease him.
Tick. Tock.
We then headed to a beach in Lanikai, which is the part of Hawaii that Hot Mama wanted to show me - unfiltered, not touristy, just pure. It might be the most beautiful beach on earth. Mark Twain, it's your move. I challenge you to find one better.
We swam, snorkeled and played in the sand and butted heads with Wyatt's nap time, which he refused. He wanted more Hawaii.
Tick tock.
We then drove to Stacie's aunt's place in Kailua, then followed a caravan to Waikane at her cousin's place for the BBQ. And throughout, Wyatt stayed awake, overstimulated by everything he saw.
Tick tock tick tock.
Their place is amazing, a quaint open house with property that leads put to a private dock and peninsula. Wyatt was so inspired by this that he turned into an insatiable tornado. He wanted to paddle board. No, canoe. No, swim. No, take a boat. No, paddle board again. No, boogie board. Every minute, a new whim. But it wasn't his time or place yet, and he had to calm down.
Ticktockticktockticktock.
He had a tantrum. Then another. Then another. He actually demanded that we give him a time out. He refused to listen. It was now three hours past nap time, and...
KABOOM!
Ladies and gentlemen, friends, family and readers of this blog, I have faced my share of physical turmoil in my life, from torn ACLs to running a marathon with tendinitis.
I don't think either could compare to putting an overtired two-year-old into his car seat.
If we had a virgin handy, we would have sacrificed them to make our lives easier.
Twenty minutes later, after steady streams of sweat flowed down our backs, Hot Mama and I finally strapped him in and drove home, having not eaten any BBQ, stopping only to pick up some fresh Huli Huli chicken from a shop on the road. He passed out for about twenty minutes then reawoke, not happy but somewhat eased.
When we got here, we chose to pick a room without a view because if he were stuck inside, it would be a loss.
We spent the rest of the night inside with a calm volcano that was as sweet as any cupcake could be. We ordered takeout and watched TV, laughed, wrestled and played.
Do we now consider staying inside to be a loss? No.
It's merely survival. Cute, charming, cuddling survival.
Nothing in life is perfect. You just have to roll with it and make due with what you've got, even if that's Spongebob and chicken fingers in a Hilton.
---
Read Day Six
Saturday, October 23, 2010
how the stuff dreams are made from are found in Hawaii
We woke up this morning with our daily routine:
1. We took the elevator downstairs and wished a good morning to the penguins.
2. We then wished good morning to the koi.
3. We then got towels from the kiosk.
4. Then promptly laid them down on the white sand before we jumped into the ocean.
It gets boring after awhile, so today we spruced it up. We tried snorkeling again with Wyatt, but this time we were smart about it. Before we got on the catamaran yesterday, we noticed schools of fish by the dock. So that's where we took Wyatt, and it was instant success, which as all parents know is the main ingredient in sustaining a kid's focus. He was mesmerized by all the different fishies that took route underneath him. Hot Mama and I would trade looking down through the window of the bottom of the float with Wyatt as the other shouted in which direction the fish were. We saw a lot and, more importantly, Wyatt saw more than enough to overfill his mental Rolodex.
After that, we continued with our routine:
5. We walked over to the pool, ordered piña coladas, jumped in and then waited for them to arrive poolside, where we drank them and ordered another.
It's a hard knock life.
We ended our morning early to put Wyatt down because today was a special day: Stacie and Kris' wedding. Becky came over to babysit Wyatt, and we had to spruce up and make ourselves pretty. That's no problem for Hot Mama. She just has to pick a dress. I had to shave and shower and put on a shirt with a collar. It's an effort and a sacrifice.
We took a 30 minute cab ride to The Plantation Estates in Kailua. Upon arriving, we learned a couple of things about it:
1. It was just sold for $7,000,000.
2. President Obama and his family just vacationed there in '08 and '09.
3. It's the most beautiful setting for a wedding that I could ever imagine.
I don't think the beach was private, but I'm not sure how else you'd get there. The grounds were perfectly manicured. The waters unscathed. The house was constructed with the most beautiful wood - even in the ceilings of the canopies. It was breathtaking and jawdropping and if I weren't there to see it with my own eyes, I'd think it were a dream painted by poets, angels and Jessica Alba.
As it were, the wedding was one that those same dreams are made of. A perfect ceremony. Delicious Hawaiian food. Great conversation. New friends. Ice cream. A live webcast using only an iPhone 4 and a ustream.tv app. Ideal weather. Hot Mama downing six tequila shots.
We even found a moment for ourselves for a walk on the beach.
There's truly some amazing places in Hawaii. And with amazing places come amazing memories. I won't need this blog to recapture what these eyes have seen.
I wish everyone could be here too, just so I wouldn't have to rely on my words to do this paradise justice.
---
Read Day Five
1. We took the elevator downstairs and wished a good morning to the penguins.
2. We then wished good morning to the koi.
3. We then got towels from the kiosk.
4. Then promptly laid them down on the white sand before we jumped into the ocean.
It gets boring after awhile, so today we spruced it up. We tried snorkeling again with Wyatt, but this time we were smart about it. Before we got on the catamaran yesterday, we noticed schools of fish by the dock. So that's where we took Wyatt, and it was instant success, which as all parents know is the main ingredient in sustaining a kid's focus. He was mesmerized by all the different fishies that took route underneath him. Hot Mama and I would trade looking down through the window of the bottom of the float with Wyatt as the other shouted in which direction the fish were. We saw a lot and, more importantly, Wyatt saw more than enough to overfill his mental Rolodex.
After that, we continued with our routine:
5. We walked over to the pool, ordered piña coladas, jumped in and then waited for them to arrive poolside, where we drank them and ordered another.
It's a hard knock life.
We ended our morning early to put Wyatt down because today was a special day: Stacie and Kris' wedding. Becky came over to babysit Wyatt, and we had to spruce up and make ourselves pretty. That's no problem for Hot Mama. She just has to pick a dress. I had to shave and shower and put on a shirt with a collar. It's an effort and a sacrifice.
We took a 30 minute cab ride to The Plantation Estates in Kailua. Upon arriving, we learned a couple of things about it:
1. It was just sold for $7,000,000.
2. President Obama and his family just vacationed there in '08 and '09.
3. It's the most beautiful setting for a wedding that I could ever imagine.
I don't think the beach was private, but I'm not sure how else you'd get there. The grounds were perfectly manicured. The waters unscathed. The house was constructed with the most beautiful wood - even in the ceilings of the canopies. It was breathtaking and jawdropping and if I weren't there to see it with my own eyes, I'd think it were a dream painted by poets, angels and Jessica Alba.
As it were, the wedding was one that those same dreams are made of. A perfect ceremony. Delicious Hawaiian food. Great conversation. New friends. Ice cream. A live webcast using only an iPhone 4 and a ustream.tv app. Ideal weather. Hot Mama downing six tequila shots.
We even found a moment for ourselves for a walk on the beach.
There's truly some amazing places in Hawaii. And with amazing places come amazing memories. I won't need this blog to recapture what these eyes have seen.
I wish everyone could be here too, just so I wouldn't have to rely on my words to do this paradise justice.
---
Read Day Five
Friday, October 22, 2010
how i learned first hand what kina'ole means
Today began at a more appropriate but still somewhat out of control 5am. We decided an hour later to take a walk along the beach to watch the sun rise. Sadly, it was a little too cloudy to see it, but that's okay. We wound up sitting on the pier and watch two fishermen get an early start on their day. Of course, we had to leave when Wyatt demanded that it was "Wyatt's turn" as he threw himself onto the sand in protest. I believe this is how the Groton fisherman got his start.
Still, we had a nice walk, each step better than the last, and as we turned around, we realized we traveled probably 75 yards. But that wasn't the point. It was nice quiet time together, doing nothing but being together. And we didn't have to spend any money doing that. I'm sure Hilton is on it to change that.
After another amazing pancake dinner, we headed back to the room to put on our bathing suits and try something different - snorkeling. We borrowed a float with a clear bottom for Wyatt to lay on and see all the fishies beneath him. Hot Mama and I rented our gear and swam out. Honestly, it could have gone better, between Wyatt's indifference and frustration and my toe getting cut on some coral, but that's okay. We wound up back on shore and just played in the sand and the ocean, sans equipment. He was happy. That made us happy. And sunburned. But happy nonetheless.
To mix things up, we returned our gear and headed to the pool, where we met this young girl who helped Wyatt with his swimming. He was infatuated with her, and rightly so. She was charming and paid attention to him. An hour later, we felt he was just about done, and as we left the pool, he called out to her, "Girl! Girl!" Sweet boy.
Now it was nap time. Usually, this comes with an argument, sometimes in epic proportions. But, after walking on the beach, snorkeling and swimming in both ocean and pool and being up for seven hours, we saw a different side of Wyatt. One where he practically passed out while eating his PB&J, much like we all did in college after a late night that ends with an egg sandwich from Dunkin' Donuts. He was completely punch drunk. He called out to Hot Mama, "Bed!" and then proceeded to climb into his pack-and-play. Ladies and gentlemen, this is a first, an unprecedented occurance, one that will be written about in the annals of history as an upset the likes of David over Goliath, Lyle Lovett marrying Julia Roberts and the Super Bowl victory of the 2008 New York Football Giants couldn't even come close to matching. I had tears in my eyes. I'm thinking of having some coins minted to commemorate it.
We had hired a babysitter to watch Wyatt during the wedding, and decided to give her a dry run today while Hot Mama and I went snorkeling for reals. Her name was Becky, a local college student, and her job was to sit there and watch this lump of exhaustion do nothing for three hours. They both did their parts.
We hired a catamaran to take us out to the deeper part of the ocean, and jumped in. Hot Mama had snorkeled before; I hadn't. It took me five minutes or so to learn how to tread and, more importantly, learn how to regulate my breathing. She thought this was hilarious. I don't doubt her. I probably looked like a plastic bag stuck on a tree during a hurricane. I'm very clumsy when learning something new, but once I catch on, look out.
I took to it.
Maybe too much.
We were snorkeling for turtles. They'd quickly show up above water to get some air and then disappear back down, so you'd have to be quick to see them. Also, for some reason, the water we were in was a little murky, so finding them was even more difficult. Anyways, our guide saw one nearby, and I decided to go down deep to find him. I held my breath and headed downward (see, I told you I'm gangbusters after I get the idea). I'm looking around, my eyes darting in front of me, when all of a sudden, I'm shocked by this monstrous turtle that cuts me off from the side. Honestly, it was about the size of two manhole covers. It scared the crap out of me - not just the size, not that it would attack me, but that it just swam in front of me and I wasn't prepared for that and its size. I swam away quickly, like a lightning bolt, made a u-turn and headed for air.
Of course, Hot Mama saw this too, and thought that this was even funnier than before, especially since she witnessed the entire thing unfolding, like the turtle swimming towards me and our paths passing. She said she never saw me move so quickly from fear like that, and it was a comedy show. I bet.
(For the record, she said she would have reacted the same way. The sucker was a monster).
After finishing off our snorkeling by eating a one-foot hot dog (don't ask), we went back to the room, where Wyatt had just woken up and was flirting with Becky until we arrived, at which point he turned into shy guy. It's his game. He's still working out the kinks.
We decided to spend the rest of the day exploring Waikiki, taking a one-mile walk with the stroller down the shopping center to the International Market, which was basically a glorified Chinatown. Nothing special at all, especially to Hot Mama, who came here as a 13-year-old and had a completely different opinion of it then. We ate dinner at Duke's, which is the sister restaurant of Sunnyside, our favorite haunt in North Lake Tahoe. Then, with very tired legs, we trudged back to our resort for some ice cream that Wyatt thought would look better on his shirt.
At this point, we were exhausted, as you are from reading this, but it wasn't over. There was one more thing left to do, one more thing that perfectly tied the entire day together. We sat on the beach, curled up together, stared out into the ocean and watched a fireworks show.
Now that's a finale.
I was trying to find a Hawaiian word to describe this entire day, and I learned one - kina’ole. It means to do the right thing, in the right way, at the right time, in the right place, to the right person, for the right reason, with the right feeling.
Today was purely kina'ole with my two favorite peeps.
I'll never forget it.
---
Read Day Four
Still, we had a nice walk, each step better than the last, and as we turned around, we realized we traveled probably 75 yards. But that wasn't the point. It was nice quiet time together, doing nothing but being together. And we didn't have to spend any money doing that. I'm sure Hilton is on it to change that.
After another amazing pancake dinner, we headed back to the room to put on our bathing suits and try something different - snorkeling. We borrowed a float with a clear bottom for Wyatt to lay on and see all the fishies beneath him. Hot Mama and I rented our gear and swam out. Honestly, it could have gone better, between Wyatt's indifference and frustration and my toe getting cut on some coral, but that's okay. We wound up back on shore and just played in the sand and the ocean, sans equipment. He was happy. That made us happy. And sunburned. But happy nonetheless.
To mix things up, we returned our gear and headed to the pool, where we met this young girl who helped Wyatt with his swimming. He was infatuated with her, and rightly so. She was charming and paid attention to him. An hour later, we felt he was just about done, and as we left the pool, he called out to her, "Girl! Girl!" Sweet boy.
Now it was nap time. Usually, this comes with an argument, sometimes in epic proportions. But, after walking on the beach, snorkeling and swimming in both ocean and pool and being up for seven hours, we saw a different side of Wyatt. One where he practically passed out while eating his PB&J, much like we all did in college after a late night that ends with an egg sandwich from Dunkin' Donuts. He was completely punch drunk. He called out to Hot Mama, "Bed!" and then proceeded to climb into his pack-and-play. Ladies and gentlemen, this is a first, an unprecedented occurance, one that will be written about in the annals of history as an upset the likes of David over Goliath, Lyle Lovett marrying Julia Roberts and the Super Bowl victory of the 2008 New York Football Giants couldn't even come close to matching. I had tears in my eyes. I'm thinking of having some coins minted to commemorate it.
We had hired a babysitter to watch Wyatt during the wedding, and decided to give her a dry run today while Hot Mama and I went snorkeling for reals. Her name was Becky, a local college student, and her job was to sit there and watch this lump of exhaustion do nothing for three hours. They both did their parts.
We hired a catamaran to take us out to the deeper part of the ocean, and jumped in. Hot Mama had snorkeled before; I hadn't. It took me five minutes or so to learn how to tread and, more importantly, learn how to regulate my breathing. She thought this was hilarious. I don't doubt her. I probably looked like a plastic bag stuck on a tree during a hurricane. I'm very clumsy when learning something new, but once I catch on, look out.
I took to it.
Maybe too much.
We were snorkeling for turtles. They'd quickly show up above water to get some air and then disappear back down, so you'd have to be quick to see them. Also, for some reason, the water we were in was a little murky, so finding them was even more difficult. Anyways, our guide saw one nearby, and I decided to go down deep to find him. I held my breath and headed downward (see, I told you I'm gangbusters after I get the idea). I'm looking around, my eyes darting in front of me, when all of a sudden, I'm shocked by this monstrous turtle that cuts me off from the side. Honestly, it was about the size of two manhole covers. It scared the crap out of me - not just the size, not that it would attack me, but that it just swam in front of me and I wasn't prepared for that and its size. I swam away quickly, like a lightning bolt, made a u-turn and headed for air.
Of course, Hot Mama saw this too, and thought that this was even funnier than before, especially since she witnessed the entire thing unfolding, like the turtle swimming towards me and our paths passing. She said she never saw me move so quickly from fear like that, and it was a comedy show. I bet.
(For the record, she said she would have reacted the same way. The sucker was a monster).
After finishing off our snorkeling by eating a one-foot hot dog (don't ask), we went back to the room, where Wyatt had just woken up and was flirting with Becky until we arrived, at which point he turned into shy guy. It's his game. He's still working out the kinks.
We decided to spend the rest of the day exploring Waikiki, taking a one-mile walk with the stroller down the shopping center to the International Market, which was basically a glorified Chinatown. Nothing special at all, especially to Hot Mama, who came here as a 13-year-old and had a completely different opinion of it then. We ate dinner at Duke's, which is the sister restaurant of Sunnyside, our favorite haunt in North Lake Tahoe. Then, with very tired legs, we trudged back to our resort for some ice cream that Wyatt thought would look better on his shirt.
At this point, we were exhausted, as you are from reading this, but it wasn't over. There was one more thing left to do, one more thing that perfectly tied the entire day together. We sat on the beach, curled up together, stared out into the ocean and watched a fireworks show.
Now that's a finale.
I was trying to find a Hawaiian word to describe this entire day, and I learned one - kina’ole. It means to do the right thing, in the right way, at the right time, in the right place, to the right person, for the right reason, with the right feeling.
Today was purely kina'ole with my two favorite peeps.
I'll never forget it.
---
Read Day Four
Thursday, October 21, 2010
how Hawaii has a different meaning for everyone
The morning for us began at 4am, two and a half hours before the sun came up. For Wyatt, that was 7am and that was sleeping in. For the rest of the hotel, it was what it was. Good thing Disney never sleeps.
Before we left for a morning runs, Hot Mama looked outside and said, "It looks like rain clouds". Wyatt responded with, "It looks like rainbows".
He was right.
Hot Mama and I got our runs in while Wyatt played on the beach. Then we left the resort and walked to a breakfast place across the street, where we ate the best pancakes ever. Seriously. There had to be crack in the batter cuz i couldn't stop myself. The total bill was just $22, which was just $3 more than one Continental breakfast at the resort. And I'm betting there's no crack in those croellers.
We spent the morning in the pool with the intent purely to keep Wyatt up until noon and get him on Hawaii time. Mission accomplished. Dude went balls out for eight straight hours, getting everything he could out of his thirty pound body of energy.
Three hours later, he awoke with him demanding that we take him to Hawaii. But we're already here, big guy.
I want to go to Hawaii!
We figured out that, for him, Hawaii was outside: the pool, the ocean, the beach, the restaurants. The hotel was home for the time being. Don't blame him. He kinda right about that.
We decided to take him for a walk around the village, where he threw tantrums in a toy store, two souvenir shops and a surfing clothes retailer. Good times had by all. But we were just buying time for the luau.
Wyatt was mesmerized by the three escalators we had to ride to the rooftop for the party. We sat at a table where he had a clear view of the stage. We then ate a mediocre buffet and an indifferent show, and halfway through, he looks at us with tired eyes and says, "I want to go home".
No sweat. We agree.
So we begin our descent, down all three escalators that are how lit up in a crescent, and he looked up at them and says, "Rainbows!"
Again, he's all right.
I didn't mention this originally, but it deserves a note just because I find it hilarious. The Hilton Hawaiian Village obviously hosts conventions, and this weekend is no different. Right now, in Waikiki, we're in the middle of Pest World 2010.
Pest World.
It's exactly what you're thinking: the finest pest and termite exterminators from around the country to meet, greet, share ideas, get drunk and sing Bon Jovi songs. And just like the insects they kill, they come from all walks of life. It's truly a scene.
Of course, I had to google Pest World. And here's the thing: it isn't new. This is actually the 77th year that Pest World has been in existance. That blows my mind. For 77 years, people have been meeting to share ideas about infestation, and the best they can do to kill a mice is cheese set within a guillotine. WTF.
Anyways, more power to them. Everyone deserves a moment in the sun, to blow off some steam, to go from capturing cockroaches to chasing cougars. It's fun for the rest of us to watch.
Okay, just me.
---
Read Day Three
Before we left for a morning runs, Hot Mama looked outside and said, "It looks like rain clouds". Wyatt responded with, "It looks like rainbows".
He was right.
Hot Mama and I got our runs in while Wyatt played on the beach. Then we left the resort and walked to a breakfast place across the street, where we ate the best pancakes ever. Seriously. There had to be crack in the batter cuz i couldn't stop myself. The total bill was just $22, which was just $3 more than one Continental breakfast at the resort. And I'm betting there's no crack in those croellers.
We spent the morning in the pool with the intent purely to keep Wyatt up until noon and get him on Hawaii time. Mission accomplished. Dude went balls out for eight straight hours, getting everything he could out of his thirty pound body of energy.
Three hours later, he awoke with him demanding that we take him to Hawaii. But we're already here, big guy.
I want to go to Hawaii!
We figured out that, for him, Hawaii was outside: the pool, the ocean, the beach, the restaurants. The hotel was home for the time being. Don't blame him. He kinda right about that.
We decided to take him for a walk around the village, where he threw tantrums in a toy store, two souvenir shops and a surfing clothes retailer. Good times had by all. But we were just buying time for the luau.
Wyatt was mesmerized by the three escalators we had to ride to the rooftop for the party. We sat at a table where he had a clear view of the stage. We then ate a mediocre buffet and an indifferent show, and halfway through, he looks at us with tired eyes and says, "I want to go home".
No sweat. We agree.
So we begin our descent, down all three escalators that are how lit up in a crescent, and he looked up at them and says, "Rainbows!"
Again, he's all right.
I didn't mention this originally, but it deserves a note just because I find it hilarious. The Hilton Hawaiian Village obviously hosts conventions, and this weekend is no different. Right now, in Waikiki, we're in the middle of Pest World 2010.
Pest World.
It's exactly what you're thinking: the finest pest and termite exterminators from around the country to meet, greet, share ideas, get drunk and sing Bon Jovi songs. And just like the insects they kill, they come from all walks of life. It's truly a scene.
Of course, I had to google Pest World. And here's the thing: it isn't new. This is actually the 77th year that Pest World has been in existance. That blows my mind. For 77 years, people have been meeting to share ideas about infestation, and the best they can do to kill a mice is cheese set within a guillotine. WTF.
Anyways, more power to them. Everyone deserves a moment in the sun, to blow off some steam, to go from capturing cockroaches to chasing cougars. It's fun for the rest of us to watch.
Okay, just me.
---
Read Day Three
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
how Waikiki became Wykiki
Hot Mama and I were looking forward to this Hawaii trip for many reasons. First, obviously, was to see Stacie and Kris get married. Second was to chill out on the warm sand and hotter waters. And third was to experience the joy of this paradise through Wyatt's eyes. We knew he'd love it, just by checking out videos on YouTube and by how quickly he learned to speak dolphin.
What we weren't looking forward to was the five hour flight. The last time we flew back from New York, he couldn't sit still, and we became "those poor people". Mortifying stuff. I list months off my life because of that flight.
But we found out that our boy's grown up since the last time we flew, and he behaved like a stud - calm, cool and collected - and even had time for a nap. I've never felt more prouder and relieved. And I might have earned those months back.
The resort is great. I took Wyatt for a walk around and he marveled at the koi and the macaw. But he was just in wonder of the place. He could have seen a pigeon and still have dropped his jaw. Everywhere he looked, something marvelous caught his eye. But it was time to stop sightseeing and time to get wet.
We went back to the room and took off his clothes and diaper. Of course, we didn't check to see if his diaper was full. It wasn't. In fact, it was completely empty. That's because his poop landed on my big toe. And on my flip flop. And on my ankle. And a touch on the carpet. He crapdusted me. Mahalo, I told him. He laughed and responded, "I funny!" Yeah, a regular Gallagher.
We then swam in the pool four hours while Hot Mama and I downed some heavenly piña coladas. You might be thinking: Were we getting drunk while our kid who couldn't swim on his own was in the pool with us? No. Not true. He was in a float suit. Everyone wins.
The day ended with us trying to keep Wyatt up as late as we could to get him on Hawaii time. He crashed superhumanly at 7pm. That's a thirteen hour day with flying, swimming, pooping on dad's toe, hanging with exotic pets and fish and giving us Dutch ovens while cuddling. Dude was a baller today.
Can't wait for tomorrow.
---
Read Day Two
What we weren't looking forward to was the five hour flight. The last time we flew back from New York, he couldn't sit still, and we became "those poor people". Mortifying stuff. I list months off my life because of that flight.
But we found out that our boy's grown up since the last time we flew, and he behaved like a stud - calm, cool and collected - and even had time for a nap. I've never felt more prouder and relieved. And I might have earned those months back.
The resort is great. I took Wyatt for a walk around and he marveled at the koi and the macaw. But he was just in wonder of the place. He could have seen a pigeon and still have dropped his jaw. Everywhere he looked, something marvelous caught his eye. But it was time to stop sightseeing and time to get wet.
We went back to the room and took off his clothes and diaper. Of course, we didn't check to see if his diaper was full. It wasn't. In fact, it was completely empty. That's because his poop landed on my big toe. And on my flip flop. And on my ankle. And a touch on the carpet. He crapdusted me. Mahalo, I told him. He laughed and responded, "I funny!" Yeah, a regular Gallagher.
We then swam in the pool four hours while Hot Mama and I downed some heavenly piña coladas. You might be thinking: Were we getting drunk while our kid who couldn't swim on his own was in the pool with us? No. Not true. He was in a float suit. Everyone wins.
The day ended with us trying to keep Wyatt up as late as we could to get him on Hawaii time. He crashed superhumanly at 7pm. That's a thirteen hour day with flying, swimming, pooping on dad's toe, hanging with exotic pets and fish and giving us Dutch ovens while cuddling. Dude was a baller today.
Can't wait for tomorrow.
---
Read Day Two
Friday, August 27, 2010
how i wish a film crew followed me today
i've had countless great days alone with my dad. today was my first great day alone with my son.
i'm typing this just so, when we get older, we can read this again and remember it. or at least, i will and he'll just humor me.
and today, i ask you to humor me as i get this all out.
lisa's gone to san diego for the opening of the beachwood, leaving wyatt and i for a couple of days together. i took today off from work. truth be told, i've been planning our schedule for a week now. don't tell anyone.
first off, wyatt slept in until 7:30, which was tremendous, considering i had a very late night at work this week and the lack of sleep was gonna hit me at some point. those extra thirty minutes were very considerate. then, we tag teamed to make cheese omeletes while watching a very special episode of "thomas the train engine". ah, who am i kidding? they're all special.
then, at 9:30, we hopped in the prius and drove to the oakland zoo. we'd been to the san francisco one, but have heard great things about its easy bay cousin - especially how engaging it is and how you truly feel like you're in there amongst the animals. they weren't kidding.
just two minutes in, we see flamingoes, and the two of us are each standing on one leg. a helluva way to set a tone. then, as he did for the rest of our time at the zoo, wyatt grabbed my hand and we would walk together to the next exhibit. and, as soon as he saw the next animal, he would release from me and head off into a full-on sprint, ending with him waving at the animal and wishing it a fond hello. "hi monkey!" "hi goat!" i asked him at each stop to talk to the animal in its language, and he did. "oooh oooh oooh ahh ahh ahh" for the monkey, "oooohhrahhh!" for the elephant, and so on. he's a talented linguist. who knew?
it was so endearing.
we saw some talented monkeys that swung, chimps that waved, giraffes that stood tall, elephants that broke bark, geese that yelled, gators that waded, camels that plodded, hyenas that hid, birds that tweeted, snakes that slithered and pigs that slept. we also went into a petting zoo and wyatt got to comb a baby goat.
then we took a 15-minute train ride around the zoo for their australian excursion exhibit. wyatt had trouble saying "hi wallabee!" but then again, who doesn't? but he had no issue with an endless chorus of "choo choo" while pumping his arm. he wanted to go back on again after it ended. thankfully, the gift shop is also right there, and after a twenty minute deliberation, we resulted with a toy frog.
as we headed on back, he fell asleep on the way. and when he arrived home, he tenderly woke up, but he was too tired to fight it. he was wiped out: a surefire sign of a great time.
two hours later, wyatt returned re-energized. we went to the backyard to have a catch with his velcro glove and then our special game where i tee up a ball and we see which one of us hits it first (he always does. his bat speed is lightning). then we had a tickle fight and a giggle contest. then we watched a deer watch us. then, a very special episode of "the wiggles", which confounds me.
it was time for dinner. i asked him what he wanted to eat. he told me exactly what he craved, in no uncertain terms: pizza. so we hopped in the car and drove to lo coco's, which we've never tried out. i'm glad we did. it's a fun place, and the pizza's good enough. and they had paper on the table for us to draw on. i drew a fire truck. wyatt drew a bunch of lines that he claimed were daddy. i take his word for it. we also shared the crust on a slice. you know, simple bonding moments.
walking back to our car required us to pass the san anselmo organic farmer's market street fair. and that required me to lift wyatt onto a statue of a deer and to shell out $2 for him to get wild in a bouncy house. score. score.
then, we returned home for a bath and two books. i read him the "this is new york" book, just like i have for the past three months. tonight, he said "lady liberty" and knew that daddy, pa and uncle mike took "the ferry" to work.
he didn't put a fight for nighty night. he was done, and i was beaming.
yeah, this day might not have read as much, but that's okay.
you just had to be there.
right, wyatt?
thanks, buddy. let's do this again.
i'm typing this just so, when we get older, we can read this again and remember it. or at least, i will and he'll just humor me.
and today, i ask you to humor me as i get this all out.
lisa's gone to san diego for the opening of the beachwood, leaving wyatt and i for a couple of days together. i took today off from work. truth be told, i've been planning our schedule for a week now. don't tell anyone.
first off, wyatt slept in until 7:30, which was tremendous, considering i had a very late night at work this week and the lack of sleep was gonna hit me at some point. those extra thirty minutes were very considerate. then, we tag teamed to make cheese omeletes while watching a very special episode of "thomas the train engine". ah, who am i kidding? they're all special.
then, at 9:30, we hopped in the prius and drove to the oakland zoo. we'd been to the san francisco one, but have heard great things about its easy bay cousin - especially how engaging it is and how you truly feel like you're in there amongst the animals. they weren't kidding.
just two minutes in, we see flamingoes, and the two of us are each standing on one leg. a helluva way to set a tone. then, as he did for the rest of our time at the zoo, wyatt grabbed my hand and we would walk together to the next exhibit. and, as soon as he saw the next animal, he would release from me and head off into a full-on sprint, ending with him waving at the animal and wishing it a fond hello. "hi monkey!" "hi goat!" i asked him at each stop to talk to the animal in its language, and he did. "oooh oooh oooh ahh ahh ahh" for the monkey, "oooohhrahhh!" for the elephant, and so on. he's a talented linguist. who knew?
it was so endearing.
we saw some talented monkeys that swung, chimps that waved, giraffes that stood tall, elephants that broke bark, geese that yelled, gators that waded, camels that plodded, hyenas that hid, birds that tweeted, snakes that slithered and pigs that slept. we also went into a petting zoo and wyatt got to comb a baby goat.
then we took a 15-minute train ride around the zoo for their australian excursion exhibit. wyatt had trouble saying "hi wallabee!" but then again, who doesn't? but he had no issue with an endless chorus of "choo choo" while pumping his arm. he wanted to go back on again after it ended. thankfully, the gift shop is also right there, and after a twenty minute deliberation, we resulted with a toy frog.
as we headed on back, he fell asleep on the way. and when he arrived home, he tenderly woke up, but he was too tired to fight it. he was wiped out: a surefire sign of a great time.
two hours later, wyatt returned re-energized. we went to the backyard to have a catch with his velcro glove and then our special game where i tee up a ball and we see which one of us hits it first (he always does. his bat speed is lightning). then we had a tickle fight and a giggle contest. then we watched a deer watch us. then, a very special episode of "the wiggles", which confounds me.
it was time for dinner. i asked him what he wanted to eat. he told me exactly what he craved, in no uncertain terms: pizza. so we hopped in the car and drove to lo coco's, which we've never tried out. i'm glad we did. it's a fun place, and the pizza's good enough. and they had paper on the table for us to draw on. i drew a fire truck. wyatt drew a bunch of lines that he claimed were daddy. i take his word for it. we also shared the crust on a slice. you know, simple bonding moments.
walking back to our car required us to pass the san anselmo organic farmer's market street fair. and that required me to lift wyatt onto a statue of a deer and to shell out $2 for him to get wild in a bouncy house. score. score.
then, we returned home for a bath and two books. i read him the "this is new york" book, just like i have for the past three months. tonight, he said "lady liberty" and knew that daddy, pa and uncle mike took "the ferry" to work.
he didn't put a fight for nighty night. he was done, and i was beaming.
yeah, this day might not have read as much, but that's okay.
you just had to be there.
right, wyatt?
thanks, buddy. let's do this again.
Monday, May 24, 2010
how Lost ended
here's what i think happened:
the island was real. the oceanic flight 815 survivors were the ones who, for the first time in two thousand years, were able to reverse the endless pattern of people who came to the island. they did not kill each other. they were not in it for only themselves. in the end, they simply sacrificed for each other.
got that? the island was a test. they passed.
that being said, the flash-sideways was not purgatory. it was an alternative life they were leaving. follow me on this: you know when you have deja vu, and you can swear that this happened before but you can't place it? well, maybe that's what this was. you've lived it in some sort of alternalife that's happening at the same time as the life you're currently conscious of. some of these new lives had drastic changes from what we knew, and some were subtle. and yet, through some sort of strange circumstances, they were still able to find (and in some cases, keep) their true soul mates - the person you want to spend the rest of your life with.
that being said, the flash-sideways wasn't purgatory. it was an alternate world. and i feel like it's one that was created by hurley as a thank you to jack for sacrificing himself. think about it. he's really the only one who had good things happen to him. everything worked out for him. he became the father figure he never had. he successfully fixed a dursa sac operation. he met the stepsister he never knew he had. he had a great relationship with his ex-wife. nothing's perfect, but for jack, this was close.
where am i going with this? in the sideways world, all the other oceanic 815 survivors were just props. they exist to meet jack in the afterlife. those moments of connection, where they realize that they knew each other, that signaled the revelation that the afterlife was waiting for them, and this was the person and people they want to spend it with. this was enlightenment, one that happened at different moments to each of them, and jack was the last one to get it.
and the ending?
they each continued to live their lives in stories we weren't told. they just happened. then, at some point, they left this earth and prepared to move on to the light, the afterlife...but they didn't. they decided to wait.
because, at that point, time became irrelevant.
christian shephard said something important to jack, and i'm paraphrasing, "some died before you and some died after". hurley told ben that he was a "great number two". their lives were lived. their redemptions were had. and in the end, they passed. and time didn't matter anymore.
but you know what does matter? going to the light with all those who you care for the most.
and for these people who were broken and lonely beforehand, what ultimately mattered the most to them, in any life they led, was that time they spent with each other on the island. that's what made those "connections" they had so electric. we've all had them with the most important people in our lives, the feeling that even though we've just met them, we've known them forever. in whatever life they lived, that time they spent together on the island redeemed themselves.
yes, the island was a test. but it was also a bond.
they might have died alone, but together, they will live forever.
and they were just waiting for jack.
or maybe i'm completely full of shit.
the island was real. the oceanic flight 815 survivors were the ones who, for the first time in two thousand years, were able to reverse the endless pattern of people who came to the island. they did not kill each other. they were not in it for only themselves. in the end, they simply sacrificed for each other.
got that? the island was a test. they passed.
that being said, the flash-sideways wasn't purgatory. it was an alternate world. and i feel like it's one that was created by hurley as a thank you to jack for sacrificing himself. think about it. he's really the only one who had good things happen to him. everything worked out for him. he became the father figure he never had. he successfully fixed a dursa sac operation. he met the stepsister he never knew he had. he had a great relationship with his ex-wife. nothing's perfect, but for jack, this was close.
where am i going with this? in the sideways world, all the other oceanic 815 survivors were just props. they exist to meet jack in the afterlife. those moments of connection, where they realize that they knew each other, that signaled the revelation that the afterlife was waiting for them, and this was the person and people they want to spend it with. this was enlightenment, one that happened at different moments to each of them, and jack was the last one to get it.
and the ending?
they each continued to live their lives in stories we weren't told. they just happened. then, at some point, they left this earth and prepared to move on to the light, the afterlife...but they didn't. they decided to wait.
because, at that point, time became irrelevant.
christian shephard said something important to jack, and i'm paraphrasing, "some died before you and some died after". hurley told ben that he was a "great number two". their lives were lived. their redemptions were had. and in the end, they passed. and time didn't matter anymore.
but you know what does matter? going to the light with all those who you care for the most.
and for these people who were broken and lonely beforehand, what ultimately mattered the most to them, in any life they led, was that time they spent with each other on the island. that's what made those "connections" they had so electric. we've all had them with the most important people in our lives, the feeling that even though we've just met them, we've known them forever. in whatever life they lived, that time they spent together on the island redeemed themselves.
yes, the island was a test. but it was also a bond.
they might have died alone, but together, they will live forever.
and they were just waiting for jack.
or maybe i'm completely full of shit.
Monday, April 05, 2010
how to remember a friend
here's my favorite memory of mitchell lee bryant jr.: i drove the eight hours from atlanta to lousiville to finish up a project we started months before. but truthfully, i drove up because i needed a break from my life and i wanted to live in lee's whimsical world for what became a hilarious weekend. to top it off, he took me to a soul food restaurant that the owner only opened for people she liked. and, of course, who couldn't like lee? so we had this amazing dinner - the best fried green tomatoes ever. and through it all, lee had this smirk on his face, as if he were holding something back. he was. for our "dessert", lee arranged to have our palms read. you see, the owner just wasn't a cook; she was also a witch doctor.
that was my friend lee: completely unpredictable, never boring and always considerate.
miss ya, big guy.
that was my friend lee: completely unpredictable, never boring and always considerate.
miss ya, big guy.
Friday, December 18, 2009
how two homes are defining me
yesterday, lisa, wyatt and i spent our first day in our brand new house. if everything goes well, this will be the house we spend the rest of our days in. it's been a long process to find it and countless signatures and faxes to make it ours, but now, the ink is dry, keys handed over and bank account emptied.
on the drive up from san francisco to san rafael for day #1, i suddenly got hit with a carousel of emotions. there was, of course, elation. and then, relief. and right after that, the realization of being overwhelmed, but in a good way. i looked in my rear view mirror and saw wyatt reading his book about elmo. that made me think about figuring out a way of saving my bookshelves so he'd be inspired to read more for when, you know, he learns how to read. so add worry to that list.
then, all of a sudden, i thought about my mom. and, more importantly, i thought about how proud she would be, now that after 35 years, i've finally got all my ducks in a row: wife, kids, work, home, happiness. that's every parent's dream. i dream of that for wyatt, and he's just 14 months old.
it really shook me up that i wouldn't have the opportunity to take her for a tour of my home and hear what she thought about it. it made me miss all the opinions and advice i wouldn't be able to extract from her.
i wouldn't be able to see her beaming with pride.
i cried a lot yesterday. most of my tears were born from happiness. those, however, were not.
fast forward one day and 2500 miles. we've just landed in new york from a redeye and it's forty degrees colder. dad picks us up at the airport and we're now in the home i grew up in - the spirit and inspiration of the home i hope to grow in california.
our only duty today is to decorate the christmas tree. this was a family tradition we had the day after thanksgiving while fighting a tryptophan hangover. dad would bring down the artificial tree and all the ornaments from the attic, and my brother and i would decorate. it was a family day, but it was really mom's day. she directed us on how the tree should look. we were just the vehicle of her imagination. and she would drive dad batty with how her christmas village would be laid out in the wall unit.
this day meant everything to her. it was her time to shine. and the boys in the house all got through it together, mostly because when it came to christmas trees and wall unit decorations, my mother rocked.
this year, the first christmas without mom, we convinced dad not to decorate the tree until we flew in to help.
it's been over ten years since i took part in the christmas tree decoration, but today felt seamless. i put the ornaments where i felt that mom would want them. i didn't literally hear her voice guiding me, but i just knew where to go instinctively. lisa did her job too, and even though she never got a chance to experience this with my mom, she does channel my mom at times, so she really didn't need any direction. my dad added the flair of tinsel that he never really liked but knew that my mom loved.
what would normally take us a full day wound up taking an hour or so. i'm looking at the tree right now, and it looks fine. the ornaments and tree and tinsel might be the same as it was last year and years past, but it's not the same. we did our best. it fits in. home is different without her.
what makes coming back to new york special, and now, bittersweet, is the imprint left by the people who live there. when i find a book in the seven bookcases, i feel my dad's imprint. when i spend time in the basement, i feel the imprint left by my time spent there with my brother and friends.
and when i look at the christmas tree, we're trying to follow the imprint my mom left. but it's not the same. her imprint turned christmas into her holiday, one blinking light at a time. but we did our best and that's an imprint of our own.
now we have an empty house to return to in san rafael. there's no imprints anywhere, a truly blank canvas. but that's okay, because through the years, what we do and how we do it will turn into traditions and stories. and they'll be borne, directly or indirectly, from the imprints we inherited from our parents. and although we might not be able to do things as well as they did, or as they would have wanted, it's still comes from the same place.
i'm not gonna be able to hear my mom's voice in my new home, but her imprint will always be felt. yes, we'll honor her with a special place, but where she's truly seriously impacted is already a big part of this house: me.
maybe next year, wyatt will help us decorate our own tree.
i miss you, mom. i hope i do you proud.
on the drive up from san francisco to san rafael for day #1, i suddenly got hit with a carousel of emotions. there was, of course, elation. and then, relief. and right after that, the realization of being overwhelmed, but in a good way. i looked in my rear view mirror and saw wyatt reading his book about elmo. that made me think about figuring out a way of saving my bookshelves so he'd be inspired to read more for when, you know, he learns how to read. so add worry to that list.
then, all of a sudden, i thought about my mom. and, more importantly, i thought about how proud she would be, now that after 35 years, i've finally got all my ducks in a row: wife, kids, work, home, happiness. that's every parent's dream. i dream of that for wyatt, and he's just 14 months old.
it really shook me up that i wouldn't have the opportunity to take her for a tour of my home and hear what she thought about it. it made me miss all the opinions and advice i wouldn't be able to extract from her.
i wouldn't be able to see her beaming with pride.
i cried a lot yesterday. most of my tears were born from happiness. those, however, were not.
fast forward one day and 2500 miles. we've just landed in new york from a redeye and it's forty degrees colder. dad picks us up at the airport and we're now in the home i grew up in - the spirit and inspiration of the home i hope to grow in california.
our only duty today is to decorate the christmas tree. this was a family tradition we had the day after thanksgiving while fighting a tryptophan hangover. dad would bring down the artificial tree and all the ornaments from the attic, and my brother and i would decorate. it was a family day, but it was really mom's day. she directed us on how the tree should look. we were just the vehicle of her imagination. and she would drive dad batty with how her christmas village would be laid out in the wall unit.
this day meant everything to her. it was her time to shine. and the boys in the house all got through it together, mostly because when it came to christmas trees and wall unit decorations, my mother rocked.
this year, the first christmas without mom, we convinced dad not to decorate the tree until we flew in to help.
it's been over ten years since i took part in the christmas tree decoration, but today felt seamless. i put the ornaments where i felt that mom would want them. i didn't literally hear her voice guiding me, but i just knew where to go instinctively. lisa did her job too, and even though she never got a chance to experience this with my mom, she does channel my mom at times, so she really didn't need any direction. my dad added the flair of tinsel that he never really liked but knew that my mom loved.
what would normally take us a full day wound up taking an hour or so. i'm looking at the tree right now, and it looks fine. the ornaments and tree and tinsel might be the same as it was last year and years past, but it's not the same. we did our best. it fits in. home is different without her.
what makes coming back to new york special, and now, bittersweet, is the imprint left by the people who live there. when i find a book in the seven bookcases, i feel my dad's imprint. when i spend time in the basement, i feel the imprint left by my time spent there with my brother and friends.
and when i look at the christmas tree, we're trying to follow the imprint my mom left. but it's not the same. her imprint turned christmas into her holiday, one blinking light at a time. but we did our best and that's an imprint of our own.
now we have an empty house to return to in san rafael. there's no imprints anywhere, a truly blank canvas. but that's okay, because through the years, what we do and how we do it will turn into traditions and stories. and they'll be borne, directly or indirectly, from the imprints we inherited from our parents. and although we might not be able to do things as well as they did, or as they would have wanted, it's still comes from the same place.
i'm not gonna be able to hear my mom's voice in my new home, but her imprint will always be felt. yes, we'll honor her with a special place, but where she's truly seriously impacted is already a big part of this house: me.
maybe next year, wyatt will help us decorate our own tree.
i miss you, mom. i hope i do you proud.
Sunday, November 01, 2009
how this is the letter that got our offer accepted for our house
October 30, 2009
To the Wonderful People in This Wonderful House,
I just want to take this opportunity to thank you for the best dream ever. Let me explain.
Today, Mama and Dada showed me photos of your house on the computer. Usually, when they have the laptop open, I bang the keyboard, pull the screen, drool on the power cord and make a big show of it. I’m just a one year old. That’s what we do.
But not today. I just stared and took the tour of your house, all 22 photos. And another tour. And again and again and again. And after the tenth time or so of looking at your house, I went to sleep quickly, without any fuss whatsoever, which is a first for me.
And as my eyes closed, my imagination took off. I dreamed of myself a little bit older, swimming in the pool with Dada. I imagined long days spent in the vegetable garden with Mama, getting dirt on my hands and knees and loving every minute of it. I dreamed of days full of playing with cars and footballs and maybe swinging from a tire. I imagined chasing a dog and salamanders. I saw myself being the best big brother imaginable. I dreamed about kissing a girl for the first time in secret under a shaded tree. I envisioned hanging with my friends, running to the store and back, or maybe just playing hide-and-seek between bushes and rocks and then riding my bike up a long hill just for a glass of cold water. And I never thought about the possibility of owning chickens and pigeons before but now I do, and there I was, in my coop. And then, I woke up, laughing and smiling. And I went back to sleep for more.
And that’s how it went for an entire two hours, dreaming about how the rest of my childhood would play out. Can you blame me? I loved your house. I loved everything about it. And I loved what was waiting for me.
Right now, we live with our uncle in San Francisco. And although, in our minds, that’s a great situation, our hearts are telling us we should be somewhere else. And we’re convinced that place is in San Rafael.
My Mama grew up in Novato. She played there. She had fun there. She went to school there. She got married there. She feels Novato made her who she is today.
I want to feel about Sun Valley as my Mama does about Novato.
Thank you for giving our hearts a visual to match what we’re feeling.
Now excuse me. I’m going back to sleep to dream about it a little more.
Sincerely,
Wyatt Tornello
To the Wonderful People in This Wonderful House,
I just want to take this opportunity to thank you for the best dream ever. Let me explain.
Today, Mama and Dada showed me photos of your house on the computer. Usually, when they have the laptop open, I bang the keyboard, pull the screen, drool on the power cord and make a big show of it. I’m just a one year old. That’s what we do.
But not today. I just stared and took the tour of your house, all 22 photos. And another tour. And again and again and again. And after the tenth time or so of looking at your house, I went to sleep quickly, without any fuss whatsoever, which is a first for me.
And as my eyes closed, my imagination took off. I dreamed of myself a little bit older, swimming in the pool with Dada. I imagined long days spent in the vegetable garden with Mama, getting dirt on my hands and knees and loving every minute of it. I dreamed of days full of playing with cars and footballs and maybe swinging from a tire. I imagined chasing a dog and salamanders. I saw myself being the best big brother imaginable. I dreamed about kissing a girl for the first time in secret under a shaded tree. I envisioned hanging with my friends, running to the store and back, or maybe just playing hide-and-seek between bushes and rocks and then riding my bike up a long hill just for a glass of cold water. And I never thought about the possibility of owning chickens and pigeons before but now I do, and there I was, in my coop. And then, I woke up, laughing and smiling. And I went back to sleep for more.
And that’s how it went for an entire two hours, dreaming about how the rest of my childhood would play out. Can you blame me? I loved your house. I loved everything about it. And I loved what was waiting for me.
Right now, we live with our uncle in San Francisco. And although, in our minds, that’s a great situation, our hearts are telling us we should be somewhere else. And we’re convinced that place is in San Rafael.
My Mama grew up in Novato. She played there. She had fun there. She went to school there. She got married there. She feels Novato made her who she is today.
I want to feel about Sun Valley as my Mama does about Novato.
Thank you for giving our hearts a visual to match what we’re feeling.
Now excuse me. I’m going back to sleep to dream about it a little more.
Sincerely,
Wyatt Tornello
Tuesday, October 06, 2009
how i can't believe it's been an entire year
i just spent the last twenty minutes reliving the best day of my life that happened one year ago today, and i've never been any happier than i am right now.
wyatt, i'm so limitlessly happy that you're my son. you're everything i've always wanted, and the idea that i can be your dad for the rest of my life is the most amazing thought i can wish for. you mean everything to me. i love you so much.
lisa, i'm so proud of you. i've seen you grow so much not only as my wife but also as the mother of my son. and there's nobody else i'd rather have as a partner. wyatt's so damn lucky to have you. heck, i'm so damn lucky to have you.
and to gram, grampa and grandpa, thank you for setting such a great example for him to follow. i'm sure grandma is very proud of him.
love you, kiddo.
wyatt, i'm so limitlessly happy that you're my son. you're everything i've always wanted, and the idea that i can be your dad for the rest of my life is the most amazing thought i can wish for. you mean everything to me. i love you so much.
lisa, i'm so proud of you. i've seen you grow so much not only as my wife but also as the mother of my son. and there's nobody else i'd rather have as a partner. wyatt's so damn lucky to have you. heck, i'm so damn lucky to have you.
and to gram, grampa and grandpa, thank you for setting such a great example for him to follow. i'm sure grandma is very proud of him.
love you, kiddo.
Tuesday, June 09, 2009
how i can grieve on a public forum too
my grief counselor gives me homework after every session, and i figured that, even though my meetings with him are private, i tend to share everything with everyone anyways.
so here's the homework i filled out:
10 THINGS I LIKE ABOUT MYSELF
1. I always put other people before myself.
2. I make myself laugh. Hard. And often.
3. My wife and kid love me, so I’m doing something right with them. In fact, I’m following in my parents’ footsteps as a good parent and spouse.
4. I would do anything for the ones I love. Anything.
5. People tell me that I look at the world differently, I take that as a compliment.
6. I try to imagine what others are thinking before I react.
7. I try to never hurt someone’s feelings…
8. …Unless it’s for their own good, in which I become stand up and blunt.
9. I’m extremely open-minded and tolerant.
10. I can admit when I’m wrong.
10 THINGS I DISLIKE ABOUT MYSELF
1. I can’t wait to show off how smart I am.
2. I’m not selfish enough. In fact, I’m not selfish at all.
3. My knees limit me.
4. I have trouble staying in shape, and that bothers me.
5. I procrastinate, sometimes to the point of rudeness.
6. I’m devastated when others don’t treat me how I treat them, even when that level is unrealistic.
7. I continually get taken advantage of, and I let it happen.
8. I’m too ambitious for my own good and rarely finish anything.
9. I’m slow to react, and I rarely ever throw caution to the wind. Both of these are because I overthink everything.
10. When I don’t care about something, I’m unmotivated to do anything about it.
5 THINGS I WANT TO CHANGE ABOUT MYSELF
1. I’d never give up playing basketball.
2. I’d work less and be home for playtime.
3. I’d be more organized.
4. I’d stick to resolutions for more than two weeks.
5. I’d speak up for myself more.
so here's the homework i filled out:
10 THINGS I LIKE ABOUT MYSELF
1. I always put other people before myself.
2. I make myself laugh. Hard. And often.
3. My wife and kid love me, so I’m doing something right with them. In fact, I’m following in my parents’ footsteps as a good parent and spouse.
4. I would do anything for the ones I love. Anything.
5. People tell me that I look at the world differently, I take that as a compliment.
6. I try to imagine what others are thinking before I react.
7. I try to never hurt someone’s feelings…
8. …Unless it’s for their own good, in which I become stand up and blunt.
9. I’m extremely open-minded and tolerant.
10. I can admit when I’m wrong.
10 THINGS I DISLIKE ABOUT MYSELF
1. I can’t wait to show off how smart I am.
2. I’m not selfish enough. In fact, I’m not selfish at all.
3. My knees limit me.
4. I have trouble staying in shape, and that bothers me.
5. I procrastinate, sometimes to the point of rudeness.
6. I’m devastated when others don’t treat me how I treat them, even when that level is unrealistic.
7. I continually get taken advantage of, and I let it happen.
8. I’m too ambitious for my own good and rarely finish anything.
9. I’m slow to react, and I rarely ever throw caution to the wind. Both of these are because I overthink everything.
10. When I don’t care about something, I’m unmotivated to do anything about it.
5 THINGS I WANT TO CHANGE ABOUT MYSELF
1. I’d never give up playing basketball.
2. I’d work less and be home for playtime.
3. I’d be more organized.
4. I’d stick to resolutions for more than two weeks.
5. I’d speak up for myself more.
Saturday, May 02, 2009
how this was the speech i gave at the party my mom wanted to throw for us
When my mom passed away, my first reaction was to cancel this party. This day meant so much to her and that having it without her would just seem wrong. But then Sue said, “We better have this party because Mom would be pissed”. I laughed, because it was true. She would be pissed.
I didn’t know then, but now, I completely understand why.
My original interpretation of this party was to introduce Lisa and Wyatt to their New York family. It wouldn’t be a wedding. We had one of those last year. But it would be a grand introduction of two amazing and wonderful people to a hundred more amazing and wonderful people with funny accents.
But, the night after my Mom passed, I rethought it. And, whether it was a divine inspiration from Mom or just seeing things differently, I realized that the point of this party was to be an opportunity for my Mom to show everyone how proud she was.
But, in the months since, I realize now that even that was off.
Let me explain.
You see, my mom had two sons.
One of them met the love of his life when he was eighteen. She was everything a mother could ask her son to meet and he did the smart thing by marrying her the first chance he got right after he graduated college. They bought a house a mile from her. And then, soon after, they gave her her first grandson. And then, her first granddaughter. He became vice president at an early age, and was in complete control of his future. He proved to her that he could be successful in life and in work. With that son, she had nothing to worry about.
She also had another son. He lived three thousand miles away. He had a job that she only somewhat understood and he took jobs based not on money but on the types of ads he could make. Weird. He dated, but he was cryptic about it because he didn’t want to get her hopes up. Maybe he was gay? If he was, that’s okay. But she knew he wasn’t. Hopefully. Her son then turned 32, and he seemed to be in the same exact position he was when he was 26. She had everything to worry about.
But here’s where the story takes a twist. He met a woman, someone who was everything a mother could ask her son to meet. He did the smart thing by knocking her up the first chance he got right after they fell deeply in love. They got married. They settled in. And then, soon after, they gave her her second grandson. And all the sacrifices he made in his career came to fruition when he became an associate creative director working on his dream job. He proved to her that he could be successful in life and in work.
Suddenly, she had two sons with nothing to worry about.
And once I wrote this out, it was suddenly crystal clear to me. This party is not about my mother showing everyone how proud she was.
This party is about my mother showing everyone how relieved she was.
So let’s have fun. Because, you know, right now, mom is partying her tail off. And, knowing her, she’s playing much better music.
I didn’t know then, but now, I completely understand why.
My original interpretation of this party was to introduce Lisa and Wyatt to their New York family. It wouldn’t be a wedding. We had one of those last year. But it would be a grand introduction of two amazing and wonderful people to a hundred more amazing and wonderful people with funny accents.
But, the night after my Mom passed, I rethought it. And, whether it was a divine inspiration from Mom or just seeing things differently, I realized that the point of this party was to be an opportunity for my Mom to show everyone how proud she was.
But, in the months since, I realize now that even that was off.
Let me explain.
You see, my mom had two sons.
One of them met the love of his life when he was eighteen. She was everything a mother could ask her son to meet and he did the smart thing by marrying her the first chance he got right after he graduated college. They bought a house a mile from her. And then, soon after, they gave her her first grandson. And then, her first granddaughter. He became vice president at an early age, and was in complete control of his future. He proved to her that he could be successful in life and in work. With that son, she had nothing to worry about.
She also had another son. He lived three thousand miles away. He had a job that she only somewhat understood and he took jobs based not on money but on the types of ads he could make. Weird. He dated, but he was cryptic about it because he didn’t want to get her hopes up. Maybe he was gay? If he was, that’s okay. But she knew he wasn’t. Hopefully. Her son then turned 32, and he seemed to be in the same exact position he was when he was 26. She had everything to worry about.
But here’s where the story takes a twist. He met a woman, someone who was everything a mother could ask her son to meet. He did the smart thing by knocking her up the first chance he got right after they fell deeply in love. They got married. They settled in. And then, soon after, they gave her her second grandson. And all the sacrifices he made in his career came to fruition when he became an associate creative director working on his dream job. He proved to her that he could be successful in life and in work.
Suddenly, she had two sons with nothing to worry about.
And once I wrote this out, it was suddenly crystal clear to me. This party is not about my mother showing everyone how proud she was.
This party is about my mother showing everyone how relieved she was.
So let’s have fun. Because, you know, right now, mom is partying her tail off. And, knowing her, she’s playing much better music.
Friday, April 03, 2009
how steve has too much on his plate so he's relying on his twitter feed to supply content to his blog
i wish i had the time to post here every day, but i don't. so considering my contributions to society lately have been in 140 character increments, i might as well keep this blog active by making it a safe haven for all my thoughts.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
how this was my eulogy for my mom
I’ve been writing this eulogy since my plane ride, and I have to admit, by this morning, I felt that it was about 87% there. But something just happened that completely pulled it all together. And, as usual, Mom, you were the one that did it. I’ll get to it in a minute.
I’ve been to too many funerals. And usually, when someone gets up to speak on the deceased’s behalf, they always talk about how wonderful, generous and loving of a person they were. And half the time, I get the feeling that the speech they give is really meant to convince everyone else of that. Like they’re presenting that person’s case to misbelievers.
This is not one of those times.
I don’t have to convince anyone of anything about my Mom, your wife, your aunt, your grandma, your mother-in-law, your sister-in-law, your cousin, your friend. She was truly the best at all those roles.
She made us happier even when we were already happy, lifted us when we were down and did whatever we needed even before we knew we needed it.
And she made us laugh.
When my wife and I were sitting in the airport, waiting to take off to come here, she told me a funny story about my mom. Lisa had put a little mirror in Wyatt’s room, and my mom asked her why. Lisa laughed, and revealed that the light in his room was so good, that she placed the mirror in there so she can see the chin hairs that she needed to pluck. How did my mom respond to that? By telling her that the light’s just as good in the car and that’s where she plucks her own chin hairs.
Endearing. That’s my mom.
The first concert we went to was to go see Michael Bolton. Mom told us that we had to meet one of dad’s clients in Philly, and he was a big Michael Bolton fan, and it was really important to Dad. So we hopped in the car and started driving north on the Turnpike. Which, as you all know, is the opposite way. It wasn’t until we got to Giants Stadium that it became clear. Michael Bolton wasn’t playing. The Rolling Stones were. And none of the 90,000 people rocked out any harder than she did.
Thoughtful. That’s my mom.
The night before she passed, she was somewhat drugged up, but still very lucid. My family sat around her and they watched “American Idol” – just like any other Tuesday night. And my mom was being my mom, just like any Tuesday night. Suddenly, the nurse came in and asked her, between 1 to 10, where her pain level was. She struggled to say “5”. The nurse took that in and walked out. As soon as she left, my mom turned to my dad and said, “It’s not a 5. It’s like a 2. I just want more morphine”.
Jokester. That’s my mom.
Hearing her sing completely off-key to Green Day songs, which no sixty-year-old had any right to know the lyrics to. Being completely unable to stay serious while scolding us for every stupid and funny thing we got in trouble for. Spending a quick vacation in Baltimore, the crab capital of the world, and watching her only eat cheeseburgers. Never driving on highways, for some reason she never really explained to us. Being the go-to person for all things pop culture, like gossip and trivia. Choosing to ignore every Oscar-nominated film to watch a monster movie instead. Her laughing fits that took her ten minutes to get three sentences out.
Quirky. That’s my mom.
And here’s where it all ties together. After we said our final goodbyes at the funeral home, we waited for dad at the bottom floor. But he wanted to take the elevator down, just like Mom would have done. And we waited. And waited. And then, suddenly, here comes Dad, walking up the stairs. He pressed the wrong button and it took him to the basement.
I could hear my Mom laughing from heaven.
The prankster. That’s my mom.
But we all laughed even harder when we realized that Mom had a hand in that. Just like, whenever something else funny happens, we’ll think of her and know that she probably had a hand in that too.
Whenever we laugh, from here on out, we’ll think of her and know that she was in the mix somehow.
I can stand here all night and tell stories about how she made us laugh and reminisce about all the wonderful things about her. And I’m sure we all have our stories.
Her quirkiness made us laugh. Her tenderness made us happy. Her thoughtfulness lifted us up.
That was always her responsibility that she was happy to take on.
And now, that responsibility falls to all of us.
When my grandparents passed away, my Dad and Uncle and Mom lamented that they weren’t able to write down all the stories their parents told them. I remember many of them, but I’m sure there’s just as many that fell through the cracks.
My mom left behind three amazing grandkids. Nicky and Ava Rose got to know her. Wyatt’s too young. And as time passes on, so will, unfortunately, their memories.
But I’m not gonna let that happen.
Right now, I’m gonna ask you all to think about a moment when my mom made you laugh. Made you feel better. Made you happier. It shouldn’t be too hard. This is my mom we’re talking about.
And sometime today, sometime this week, once you come up with that story, just like any one I told you about, I’m gonna ask you to tell me. And I’m gonna record it.
Nicky, Ava Rose and Wyatt won’t be able to feel their grandmother or hear her. They won’t be able to be held by her. They won’t be able to smell her or be kissed by her. And that breaks my heart.
But I do want them to be touched by her, just like how we all are. I want her to make them laugh, just like how we all did. I want her to make them feel good, just like she always had. I want her to forever be an important part of their everyday lives.
And she will.
This is my mom. How could she not?
I’ve been to too many funerals. And usually, when someone gets up to speak on the deceased’s behalf, they always talk about how wonderful, generous and loving of a person they were. And half the time, I get the feeling that the speech they give is really meant to convince everyone else of that. Like they’re presenting that person’s case to misbelievers.
This is not one of those times.
I don’t have to convince anyone of anything about my Mom, your wife, your aunt, your grandma, your mother-in-law, your sister-in-law, your cousin, your friend. She was truly the best at all those roles.
She made us happier even when we were already happy, lifted us when we were down and did whatever we needed even before we knew we needed it.
And she made us laugh.
When my wife and I were sitting in the airport, waiting to take off to come here, she told me a funny story about my mom. Lisa had put a little mirror in Wyatt’s room, and my mom asked her why. Lisa laughed, and revealed that the light in his room was so good, that she placed the mirror in there so she can see the chin hairs that she needed to pluck. How did my mom respond to that? By telling her that the light’s just as good in the car and that’s where she plucks her own chin hairs.
Endearing. That’s my mom.
The first concert we went to was to go see Michael Bolton. Mom told us that we had to meet one of dad’s clients in Philly, and he was a big Michael Bolton fan, and it was really important to Dad. So we hopped in the car and started driving north on the Turnpike. Which, as you all know, is the opposite way. It wasn’t until we got to Giants Stadium that it became clear. Michael Bolton wasn’t playing. The Rolling Stones were. And none of the 90,000 people rocked out any harder than she did.
Thoughtful. That’s my mom.
The night before she passed, she was somewhat drugged up, but still very lucid. My family sat around her and they watched “American Idol” – just like any other Tuesday night. And my mom was being my mom, just like any Tuesday night. Suddenly, the nurse came in and asked her, between 1 to 10, where her pain level was. She struggled to say “5”. The nurse took that in and walked out. As soon as she left, my mom turned to my dad and said, “It’s not a 5. It’s like a 2. I just want more morphine”.
Jokester. That’s my mom.
Hearing her sing completely off-key to Green Day songs, which no sixty-year-old had any right to know the lyrics to. Being completely unable to stay serious while scolding us for every stupid and funny thing we got in trouble for. Spending a quick vacation in Baltimore, the crab capital of the world, and watching her only eat cheeseburgers. Never driving on highways, for some reason she never really explained to us. Being the go-to person for all things pop culture, like gossip and trivia. Choosing to ignore every Oscar-nominated film to watch a monster movie instead. Her laughing fits that took her ten minutes to get three sentences out.
Quirky. That’s my mom.
And here’s where it all ties together. After we said our final goodbyes at the funeral home, we waited for dad at the bottom floor. But he wanted to take the elevator down, just like Mom would have done. And we waited. And waited. And then, suddenly, here comes Dad, walking up the stairs. He pressed the wrong button and it took him to the basement.
I could hear my Mom laughing from heaven.
The prankster. That’s my mom.
But we all laughed even harder when we realized that Mom had a hand in that. Just like, whenever something else funny happens, we’ll think of her and know that she probably had a hand in that too.
Whenever we laugh, from here on out, we’ll think of her and know that she was in the mix somehow.
I can stand here all night and tell stories about how she made us laugh and reminisce about all the wonderful things about her. And I’m sure we all have our stories.
Her quirkiness made us laugh. Her tenderness made us happy. Her thoughtfulness lifted us up.
That was always her responsibility that she was happy to take on.
And now, that responsibility falls to all of us.
When my grandparents passed away, my Dad and Uncle and Mom lamented that they weren’t able to write down all the stories their parents told them. I remember many of them, but I’m sure there’s just as many that fell through the cracks.
My mom left behind three amazing grandkids. Nicky and Ava Rose got to know her. Wyatt’s too young. And as time passes on, so will, unfortunately, their memories.
But I’m not gonna let that happen.
Right now, I’m gonna ask you all to think about a moment when my mom made you laugh. Made you feel better. Made you happier. It shouldn’t be too hard. This is my mom we’re talking about.
And sometime today, sometime this week, once you come up with that story, just like any one I told you about, I’m gonna ask you to tell me. And I’m gonna record it.
Nicky, Ava Rose and Wyatt won’t be able to feel their grandmother or hear her. They won’t be able to be held by her. They won’t be able to smell her or be kissed by her. And that breaks my heart.
But I do want them to be touched by her, just like how we all are. I want her to make them laugh, just like how we all did. I want her to make them feel good, just like she always had. I want her to forever be an important part of their everyday lives.
And she will.
This is my mom. How could she not?
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