Shed the Skin

Sit sit sit, shed shed shed. As I gaze upon you and the ability to react dissipates another layer is shed. Reaching into the cupboard to grab you a sweet treat, something you never turn down, you ask, 'how will you get across.' I pause as I reach for the Oreos and respond, 'across what?' 'The field,' you say. A complete lack of reality and the present moment, I try to enter your world and respond with a witty phrase that may make you laugh or come back to me. 

In and out, in and out you shift from an exciting sentence that holds only the beginning and no intention of being finished. Frustrated you become as I continue to ask what or who. Should I not try to understand what you are saying to me? Is it only making you frustrated and angry? 

Moments that no one can understand, moments that I do not want to share with others in fear that it may put them in an awkward position. Still grateful to be here with her, by her side and still happy that in brief instances she sees me and comes back. If it's those brief instances we have left then I want them all. 

I feel as if my skin is being peeled off of me. As if I had a horrible sunburn and the dead, burnt skin is finally peeling off to be replaced by the fresh new skin. I envision this skin just shedding off of me. These moments of loss, her inability to connect with reality, her inability to comprehend a situation, her inability to be the woman I know she is, are on me as I sit with her at the table, but as I close my eyes I feel the skin peeling back, I feel the skin shedding. These moments of her last few days won't be the ones to stick, because in my heart I know that is not who she is. 

I guess the only way to be the closest to death without dying is to see someone take their last breath, I had hoped I would be here to see it like I was with my grandpa. I know it won't happen but sometimes I just wish I could change the way things were going to be. 

It's like a flash of clarity when she comes back. She looks at me, eyes glazed over from the medicine we have her on to prevent the pain of the massive tumor taking over her soul, unmindful of what she was beginning to say or what we were talking about, and then the second hand moves once more and her eyes clear, she looks at me with a smile and I hold on to her gaze as the clock ticks and my heart beat becomes steady. Stay with me, stay with me I plead silently. I feel no words can be said when she finds that clarity, afraid it may shift her back into the unconscious  state. It's too late to write what I wanted to write and read it to her, I fear that if she stays like she was last night for the remaining time, it will not register. 

A few times in the past week I've wanted to run early, to take the nothingness that I have packed and just go. Step away from the challenges that face me and into the sweet serenity of exploration. Soon enough, but not before I take these challenges head on as to not worry, question or contemplate decisions made when I leave. 

The only way to conquer the demons are to face them without fear.

Shed the Skin 

Intimate Nod

Sitting at my desk filling out checks for parking tickets, applications to apply for health insurance, emails to inform people I will not be at the meeting and searching the web for some spark of memory of the museum I am writing about. Contemplating going to the gym, but unsure whether or not I can muster up the energy at 10 pm. 

The night has been interesting, mostly spent in the kitchen trying to piece together a puzzle and visit with my grandma. It's uplifting to know that we can all still make her laugh and laugh together. It's encouraging. 

Caught this afternoon with an abrupt realization that sometimes what people say does not always live up to what they tend to do. A glimpse of the past hit me as I grabbed the stew out of the microwave and remembered all those things I mentally noted that I did not want. I did not know that it would occur to me that quickly, that all the things I learned would instantly pop to the front line of my train of thoughts and mentally remind me, that hey, this is something you do not want or do not like. An intimate nod of appreciation between myself and I that those moments did teach me something and this moment was something I could go without. 

It was a contradicting feeling. Shocked at the words that not too long were pronounced and then denied after the statement, yet satisfied with my quickness of my own comprehension. Why say something or promise something if you are unsure that you can live up to those promises or words? A questions that always has baffled me. A simple request of not to promise anything you know you can not fulfill, promises evoke hope and if this promise is not fulfilled or broken it results in disappointment. Why encourage these contradicting feelings when they can be easily avoided? Make a promise if you know you can fulfill it, and if not then hold that hope to yourself and smile when you do secretly fulfill it.  

Another weekend where the house will be filled with guest to visit my grandma. We had a scary night on Monday and I woke up Tuesday morning uncertain if she was still alive. Gladly she was and we have been blessed with her presence and smile until a higher spirit feels it is time.

God Bless. 

I Fall 2 Become Stronger

There I stood, here I stand with the inability to hold on to something concrete. Situations, objects, feelings attack my stance allowing my stability to become unstable. 

From the first mention of it, from the first mention that it was going to occur the next day, a sheet of concrete fell in front of me. I began to push, I began to hide my tears in your chest, I began to swallow my feelings and be everything but what I was feeling; an emotionless wall that began to fall apart bit by bit in my heart.

I walked into the house with family but entered a whirlwind alone. The moments, the chats, the laughs, the sandwiches cut into quarters, the dust-buster,

the crayons, the barbies, the hiding behind the nook of the couch, the sleep overs, the days I saw you at your weakest, the days I watched him through the window 

on the back porch, the many birthdays, the ice cream cakes, the love, the cookies, the gum, it all quickly spun around me and made the wall

thicker. Here I was at a house I have known my whole life as yours, and here we were about to go through it all and pick what we wanted to carry with us through

the rest of our lives. Materialistic things that we wanted to keep that had sentimental value to us and we could cherish the rest of life. I picked and poked through

things but didn't truly find anything that had much sentimental value. Is it my stubbornness to let go? I don't want some object or piece of furniture that was yours,

I want you and him to still occupy this house, I want you and him to still occupy our lives. I can keep these objects and always know that they were yours, but in

the end, my memories are my most sentimental values.

I kept one of his shirts because he always wore it, I distinctly remember seeing him in it when I close my eyes and envision him, that's the shirt I see him wearing

and I'm making many quilts out of your clothes for me and the rest of the kids. You and I both know anything I take will never mean anything of what I am looking for, because what I am looking for is you. It was not easy

nor will it ever be. I had not been there since we dropped you off after our Vegas adventure, the house was dead. It was merely a building. You made it alive,

you made it warm, you made it the place I loved. Walking in to the empty, dark, cool house made it more apparent that it is no longer a home, but merely a place

that houses your belongings and sentimental things you carried with you throughout your life. The storm did not seize to stop when I walked out, it only intensified

my despair and sadness for the harsh truth that lays in the living room.

I pushed them away, I became the quite, reserved person and I secretly fell apart inside. I cleaned my room, found my fish to be eaten by the fierce cat and fell

the wooden floor. I tried to hide my quivering voice as I told her about the cat eating Fin, but I couldn't anymore. The wall dispersed, my head and shoulders shook

with the pain that fell through my eyes. Helpless, I sat on the floor with my head supported by her shoulder, angry at myself for breaking down but happy that

it had begun. 

I guess if we never break down, we can never become stronger.

I was lying in bed last night contemplating the thought of, can we make love, if we are not in love? I guess love has been a reoccurring theme recently, well I

guess love is always a reoccurring theme. She's been informing me of the confusion that has encircled this phrase, maybe confusion is a bad word for it, but the

uncertainty of whether or not he has said it or if she feels it. She defined her uncertainty with often feeling an immense amount of emotion for him, overwhelming

often enough, but then other moments where she is questioning whether it is love or not. Is it too soon?, she questions. Why is love associated with time? Why is

it that when we feel this overwhelming emotion and depth for a person we instantly associate the length of time we have known or been with this person?

Is love determined by how many days we've been sleeping with a person? Shouldn't it be based upon our feelings, our moments, our laughs, our happiness?

Love should not be determined by the days, love should not be questioned because the amount of time you've been with someone does not seem adequate

enough time to love a person, it should be based upon the depth of our feelings.

Although my question was about making love and being in love, I never really got around to answering it. It became a thought by what he had said. It became

a question by what he said, an inspiring person that makes me want to better myself for the sake of me.

Shop Less, Spend More

Over a month since I have blogged, yes I guess it is time I revisit this site and try to stick to consistency. 

A night off of work and I find myself lying in the living room amongst the Christmas tree, the warming fire in the fireplace, the candles on top of the mantle and the television. I guess I haven't written in almost a month because I don't really care to reflect upon the things that are happening.  

Well last night and into today about 5 inches of snow fell from the sky leaving an ample amount to go sledding late night tonight! Christmas is less than 9 days away and my shopping just began. The mall was surprisingly easy to get through, but finding 'the perfect gift' was a bit more difficult. I'm sure the pressure of 'the perfect gift' sits upon everyone around this time of year, but in the end is it really about the gift? Is it really about the materialistic things that we give our loved ones, or is it about the time we spend and the moments we share? 

We could waste our entire holiday season pa-rousing the stores and catching the sales, but are you taking time away from being with your family? Just think, as you stand in line in between many other shoppers, holding your basket of gifts and mentally going through your checklist, could you be at home helping your family or visiting with a grandparent? I thought about this as I stood in line at Kohls. As I jumped from store to store looking for things and picking up a little treat for a special someone, I thought how those 2 hours of shopping and inevitably searching, but not succeeding could have been spent side by side, sitting down visiting and learning about someone I greatly love. 

I know it may sound corny or cliche, but aren't the holidays about friends and family? How are they about friends and family as we cruise the mall, get frustrated and buy something that we inevitably feel just isn't enough? 

As always, thoughts that just breeze through my mind and I find landing on a page. A whole day off tomorrow, it could be spent up at the mountain or in a quaint coffee shop fulfilling my deadline for the Champlain Business Journal, I guess we'll see.

Searching and Finding Tranquility

I have just got back from attending a Gregory Douglass concert at Higher Ground, it was anything but 'murky.' An extremely comfortable setting with a voice beautiful enough to fill a room a million times the size of the one I sat in. I have not seen Gregory perform live in over two years, but much like any other time I have seen him perform live, his voice and lyrics reach a depth of my soul that I never knew existed. He has heightened my passion for music and it is his own songs that have taught me how to loose myself in the rhythm, the beats, the lyrics and the passion. His music has taught me about myself. Whenever I put his CD in or place my ipod on my dock and select one of his albums, it makes me want to close my eyes and become lost in his voice. It makes me want to dance around like a little ballerina; his music sets me free. 

Two younger girls, probably in high school reminded me of us, when we use to watch him and when we were in high school. The two younger girls reminded me of when we went to Good Times Cafe in Hinesburg and watched him perform. It made me smile and happy that we shared those times together. 

He played one of my first, favorite songs of his, 'Hard.' So many moments came to mind. Moments of taking an exam in Life Studies and listening to him on my CD player because iPods had yet to be produced. There I was listening to 'Hard,' investing myself in the lyrics and praying that I would get through that exam and knew that everything was going to work out fine. The moment we made a picture colleague and video taped it to this song, I guess it was our theme song.  Moments of him and I. Moments that he doesn't even know about. This song that I listened to time and time again to help me get through instances that seemed unbearable and situations that seemed never-ending and here I was, tonight, smiling with tears in my eyes happy to be sitting there alone and happy to finally be at this place. 

"Once in my life I knew just what was right around the corner, I knew what was right, until the minute it came crashing down." He sang this song, 'Wild World' and I thought about all the things I thought were right. The moves I was about to make and the way things were going to be, until one day it literally all came crashing down. I thought I would never be able to breathe again, I thought the suffocating feeling would never stop, I thought the waking up to dread would never surpass, I thought each day nothing would get better until time proved me wrong. I wouldn't say I quickly learned or that it instantly came to me, but over the moments time has healed me and continues to heal me. Much like any wound, it takes time for the skin to mend back together and that is what is happening, my skin is mending as life carries on. Sitting in that audience tonight I realized that his shadow was cold, it inhibited my own grass to grow, but without the shadow, flourishing has taken a stand. 

There he was, Gregory Douglass on stage making me, a complete stranger laugh out loud, tear up to the intensity of his voice, smile at the moments where I have taken his music and warm my heart. Thank you for being such an inspiring person and allowing me to listen to your music and have it help me through the days of life. 

I started writing this this morning while he showered and I was lost in an amazing morning:

Wasting away a day often feels unproductive and lazy, yet is often indispensable. Rolling over to see the clock read 10:30 and thinking, 'damn I should get up,' only to roll over again two hours later to read 12:30. Yes a lazy day, but a great sleep. A constant bit of warmth that held me tight under the covers made it seemingly impossible to ever get up. Maybe it was the bed, maybe it was the exhaustion, or maybe it was just the thought of sleeping next to you for as long as possible that made the hours discreetly slip by. 

Feeling you breathe, inconspicuously holding on to you as you are lost in sleep, keeping warm with your own warmth. An innocent adventure, letting go of all inhibitions and just being who we are. Comfortably dancing with each other in the emptiness of your kitchen, comfortably dancing with each other to the silence that fills your apartment. Comfortably in each others arms lost in the rhythm of your heart that beats upon my back.

I thought he robbed me of the things I have been feeling, I thought these feelings drowned with everything else that day, until recently they have taken me back, they have resurfaced and I find myself standing here happy to know it is still possible. I guess being thankful for everything that happens is the way it truly is. I am thankful for everything that has happened. Not just that day or today, but everyday. If things don't work out, I know it will hurt but at least now I have an idea, a vision and more definable hopes and dreams. That's the way it always is though, if something does not work out, it is good to have tried and learned. From each experience we learn and grow.  

Discreetly Dance With Me

I can't seem to put down what I was thinking earlier without making it sound like I want to run away. 

I was sitting at my kitchen table in debates with myself about going out again tonight and thought how effortlessly you can get up and walk away from a situation that just seems unreal. I thought how getting lost in the comfort is a measurement of simplicity. I thought about how easy it is to let go when the vibration of someone's voice sits upon your back. 

A simple request of 'please talk to me' allows my own thoughts to escape my mind and me to sink into the depth of their stories. A simple request that puts me at ease and makes things uncomplicated. 

A shallow whisper traced over my ear as sleep was on the brink, was it meant to be heard? 

I laughed out loud at the sight that walked by. Typical I thought, hypocritical. It was just funny to see the results, even after all the things he had said to me, even after all the things he had said to her, where did the love go? Yes, a question I have asked many times for many different circumstances, but really, that is what it comes down to. Was it ever really there if things can so quickly change without even a second look?

 It's funny that I often think I'm invincible. Does anyone else ever feel like this, or am I the sole rider? I don't know where this feeling ever came from or why I think that nothing can get to me, hurt me, or wound me, but I think the first time someone ever pointed it out to me was when I was in high school. I remember talking to my mom about something and I think the way I presented what I was speaking to her about made her question me and my idea of security. I don't know I just remember telling her that I felt like nothing could hurt me and I felt on top of the world. Yes, an amazing feeling to have, and don't get me wrong it is even to this day, but sometimes I feel that I take it to another level and feel that nothing will ever get me down or hurt me, inevitably I believe that I am invincible. 

It's crazy when suddenly something is said or you merely snap back to reality and notice that you are not invincible and things could get to you. I had this recognition the other night and then shortly after was hurt.  I don't know, I just find it funny that I often feel that way and do not realize the repetition and take it into account. 

A blog of random thoughts and discreetly touching upon little things that have occurred the past few days. Time to shower... and yes time to face a risk. 

The American Dream

Comfortably sitting in my living room on my couch listening to Ben Folds. 

Happy Veterans Day to all those veterans and soldiers in the world. I was watching the news tonight and there was a story about Veterans Day. The news team interviewed a veteran whom expressed his concerns and disappointment with the lack of people that came out to show their appreciation for the individuals who fight for our country. He stated there were more people in the parade than people watching and supporting. A sad realization, but more often than not the truth. When was the last time you took a moment to appreciate a soldier or thank them for the work and fight they have battled to keep our country safe? Please read this story (http://www.wptz.com/news/17958734/detail.html) and if you haven't already, please begin to realize that not only are we and will we always be the United States of America, but it is our soldiers who help keep our country safe, help maintain our freedom and help us reach the American Dream.  

I was outside tonight dancing around the yard in hopes to warm myself up while Barney, my grandmother's dog did his business. I stood there holding onto the leash in one hand while the other was shoved into the pocket of the fleece coat. I watched my grandma through the window as she sat in her own solitude and smoked her cigarette. She looked adorable in her pink fleece night gown, yet shrinking in her black wheelchair. I finally had a moment to sit down with her and catch up, spend time with and revisit moments in her life. She told me stories of marching bands that covered an entire football field. She described their uniforms of blue, white and gold; the look in her eyes was as if she was still sitting in that stand, amazed with the colors of the uniforms that were heightened by the stadium lights. It was as if she was still sitting in that stand next to her husband, my grandpa telling him to stop shouting at a certain player. As if she was still sitting in that stand chilled by the cool air. Her eyes, her expression, her details only helped build and paint the picture in my mind that she was envisioning before her.  An overall great dinner with my grandma. 

I met up with the photographer today that did the shoot for Steezteez. We went over the rest of the photos and I picked out the ones I liked. He showed me some videos he has been working on and many photos that he has taken. It re-opened my love for video production, broadcast journalism and photojournalism. Hopefully sometime in the future I can create my own dark room and purchase Final Cut so I can work on this video that I was working on over the summer. 

Many dreams, many visions, many goals to be reached, but without these we would be mindlessly walking through life.