Patience: It's MORE than a Virtue...your life depends on it

There are so many cliches in the world that we many times take for granted the weight that some of these statements have...until we're slapped in the face with them. In my case, I was recently actually punched in the face for my lack of patience. I am now compelled to break down this cliche in a way that I pray will resonate with you some way.

This past Monday, like so many Mondays before, I was headed downtown on the Bruckner Expressway, towards the west village to go sing at a jam. I usually take the FDR and then head across town to the west village because 95 South is always a parking lot, no matter what time of day. (Here's the first part where I demonstrate a lack of patience.) I was having some car issues as my rear brakes were almost completely bare and I hadn't had the time or the money to go replace them. Allow me to acknowledge the danger of not repairing my vehicle and reflect that this is the first point when I should have realized patience would have kept me off the road and safer than driving on bare brakes. (Case 2 of lack of patience.)

But since I don't dwell in the past, I'll just hope that you take heed to the danger of driving with car problems and pray that you maintain your vehicle to the best of your ability. I'll also note that, since this incident, I've replaced my brakes.
Ok, so back to the Bruckner. Unlike every other night as I use this route to avoid traffic, the Bruckner was just was just as much of a parking lot as 95 usually is. In a hurry to get downtown and sing, I moved into the left hand lane, which was flowing freely, until the split for 87 north, where I slowed down and made my approach  to cut into traffic. In my peripheral vision, I could see the woman in the car next to me and her jerky motions in her car to leave absolutely no room between her and the car in front of her. I noticed it and yet disregarded it. Confident about my ability to get my car into pretty much any space, I waited until the car in front of her moved into the next lane and stealthily slipped my car directly in front of hers. Before I could even have a chance to realize what was happening, the woman in the car behind me had jumped out of her car. My window was down and as I reached for the button to put my window up as she screamed in my face, she put her hand down to stop me and reached out with a closed fist, which made impact directly above my right eye. I sat there in shock as she continued screaming at me, asking me if I was crazy, threatening me. She walked back to her car after a shouting a few more things in my face. Not thinking straight, I got out of my car, shaking like a leaf, so I could write down the make/ model of her car, along with the license plate number. She and her friends continued screaming at me out their windows, telling me to go ahead and call the cops as the passenger in the front seat pulled out what appeared to be a union card. She was saying her cousin was a cop and that it was useless for me to call the police. I was still shaking as I got back into my truck and fumbled to dial the 3 numbers to call for help.
It seemed to take an eternity for me to successfully dial the numbers. When the woman's voice finally answered on the other end, I was overcome and started sobbing as I tried to relay what my emergency was through gasps of air. My head started to throb as she kept asking me to repeat my location. I repeated it over and over again and she still misunderstood where I was saying, which only made my head throb more. I knew I needed to take a deep breath and focus if I was ever going to be able to communicate my location. Finally, I was able to get it across to her and I made my next phone call to Jeff, a man who has been so many things to me in the last few months that to give him one title would serve as a dis-justice. Again I found myself totally hysterical as he answered the phone. I blurted out as much of what happened as possible again through gasps of air. He asked me where I was and I felt my head throbbing again as I tried to explain my location. My frustration grew as I struggled to relay my location once again and my head felt as if it had a heartbeat all its own.
The driver and her friends had made their way out of the traffic and took off in the direction of the Triboro Bridge, still screaming at me as they drove off. I felt helpless and totally out of my element.
The only other thing I could think to do was use social networking to report what had happened in hopes that someone would spot the car. I tweeted about the incident, sharing the info about the car and license plate to over 3,500 people not knowing what else to do. My phone started going off repeatedly with phone calls and text messages from concerned friends who had seen the status update. The police kept calling me trying to pinpoint my exact location, which only further upset me and hurt my head. Finally, I heard the sirens and saw the flashing lights in my rear view mirror.
The officer approached my car and I rolled down my window for the first time since the woman had reached into my car with her fist. He asked me to re-count what had happened and took down all the information I had. He asked if I needed an ambulance and I couldn't figure out how to answer the question. Upon realizing the fact that I have no insurance, all I could think of was the hospital bill and I declined, my head still pounding .
Another officer approached my car and we started talking about the incident. I told him that I was on my way to sing downtown and that I'm a singer and song writer. Before he knew what hit him, he had my CD and my promo flyer in his hand. Without hesitation, I used the opportunity to turn the situation around. I told him about how I use my platform as an artist to encourage other people to live their lives striving for greatness in a healthy way, to educate and empower themselves, and to make the right choices. He started telling me about his weight gain since joining the force and the lifestyle decisions that he had made, which had led him to daily headaches. I started to talk to him about the impact his food choices and lack of exercise had and how he could help himself just by changing some small things to begin with. He told me that he had daughters and had moved out of the Bronx because of incidents like what had happened to me, along with other countless experiences from his service. It made me sad to think about the negative connotations of the Bronx. I reminded him that the crime and negativity was only perpetuated by the fact that people simply accepted it as "the way it is" and that change has to start somewhere. I also reminded him of the importance of his life and his health in the context of his daughters. At this point, my head was still hurting, but I was so grateful for the opportunity to turn something bad into something good...or at least plant a seed of something good. As he returned to his car to assist his partner with the report, Jeff pulled up in front of my car. He had been in the middle of an important meeting, but left as soon as he received my phone call to come to my aid.
As he got out of his car to check on me, the officers returned with the report, and we were all back in our cars making our way through the traffic. Jeff and I pulled off the highway into a gas station to sit and talk about what happened. He said that he was worried about me and the situations I put myself in. I was automatically defensive, even as the pounding in my head should have led me to be calmer and more receptive to his thoughtfulness. Even as he spoke, all I could think of was getting downtown to still make it to a jam.
He advised me that maybe all this was a sign to not go downtown and to lay low for the night. Frustrated even further, I explained that music was the only thing that really offered me any kind of peace, and that allowing the events of the evening to deter me was simply giving in to evil stopping me from my pursuit of my dream. I had re-counted the night after my apartment had gotten broken into and how the people running the show had been surprised that I showed up to perform less than 24 hours after it had happened. I found myself feeling just as I had then...that the show must go on. Reluctantly, he let me get out of his truck, back into mine and I made my way downtown.
I parked my car, fixed the makeup that I had cried off, and made my way into the Village Underground. It was packed and I was eager to get on the list. But the mishaps of the evening had led me to arriving too late so I made my way to The Bitter End, a place I consider to be my home away from home on Monday nights, filled with some of the most talented musicians in our country, but more importantly at that moment in particular, some of the best friends I've made during this journey.
I walked in and told them what happened and was immediately given ice to put on my head and a club soda. I  already started feeling better just knowing the love they had for me. And though my head was still pounding, it felt better to be around great music and amazing people. I went up and performed my song, "Back With You"   and I was grateful that after everything that happened, I was still able to perform and share my gift.
I've done a lot of reflecting since Monday night. I even had to stay in the following night due to the pain in my head, which is something I don't frequently do in this relentless pursuit of my dream. In all the recent reflecting, I realized that patience is one of my biggest challenges. It's something I've realized in the past, but this week, it was put in my face (literally) more than ever. I thank God that the woman only punched me. I realize that she could have had a gun and there's a chance I wouldn't have been alive to share this lesson with you.
"Be still and know that I am God..." Psalm 46:10 For those of you that know even just a little about me, you know that I'm a woman of faith. This scripture has been a reoccurring theme in my life. I push so hard everyday towards the fruition of my dream. Sometimes I push so hard that I forget the importance of being patient and realizing how much danger I can put myself in if I'm not cognizant of that fact. I put my faith and trust in God every single day. I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that God did not bring me this far to leave me now. But just as that's true, something that Jeff reminds me of on a regular basis, is that God helps those that help themselves. Accordingly, I pray that this incident inspires you to put a healthy dose of patience in your life. With the advent of technology and the seeming necessity for everything to be NOW NOW NOW, remember that patience is MORE than a virtue...your life could very well depend on it. 

On My Own

17 years. It's hard to even wrap my brain around the amount of time that's passed since Tim died. It seems like only yesterday and a million years ago...all at once. One thing's for sure though...today, the pain seems more substantial than ever before. Maybe each year that passes, I feel like this. But there's something almost tangible about the pain this year. Maybe it's because I'm getting closer and closer to the realization of my dream. Perhaps that realization makes me even more sad at the fact that Tim's not here to cheer me on...or maybe he would have been playing guitar with me.

Though I sit here today "on my own," a reference to the song I sang in Tim's memory back in 8th grade when he died, I know I'm never really alone. I carry Tim's spirit with me as I travel on this journey. My journey is filled with countless people, places, lots of music, and not much sleep. God's equipped me to deal with all the hardships that come along with this adventure, which can be so hard at times. But aside from the joy that music brings me and the satisfaction of seeing my hard work produce results, I have Tim's memory and legacy to keep me going.

I know that Tim is one of my angels, one of my guiding forces. For when it seems too hard to go on, I realize that I MUST continue...if for no other reason than I'm alive to do so. It's so much more than that now, but I know that I have this great responsibility to do what God has built me to do with my time here. I'm taking time today to sit and meditate on the life and gifts I have been blessed with, to celebrate Tim's life and legacy, and to thank God for blessing me with a clear path in life, a path which I know I will never be "on my own" for as long as I have my ears, eyes, and heart open to all the angels God has surrounded me with. I miss you, Tim, but you will never be forgotten. I carry you with me always just as you carry my spirit when it's hanging in the balance. You are a true friend and a very real angel. You are missed, but never forgotten.

iDream

"Have you ever had a dream that was meant to be...then finally found your voice, which spoke your destiny? Well, I've dreamed and I woke. In this new voice I spoke. And once I finally heard my voice, it was time to make some noise!" These are the lyrics to the 3rd song, "Screaming to be Free" on my EP, "Light Shines Through Me," which, as of TODAY, can be purchased on iTunes!

"Screaming to be Free" was produced by GI Joe and has a music video directed by Rodolfo Duran of DoneRightDigital.com, which is just waiting in the wings to be released! Once KFHox (facebook.com/kfhox) reaches the 1,000 fan mark, the video will be briefly released online and then available for purchase on iTunes!

This has been a crazy, exhausting, at time confusing, and long journey, and it's only just begun! I thank God to have finally found my voice and to have transitioned from iDream to iTunes!!!

Birthdays, Bathrooms & Brows...

So here I sit in the lovely Disney’s Beach Club Villas Resort…no, I’m not a guest…just passing through, as it would be, to meet an old friend from acting, Jenn, who’s now a cast member at Disney. It’s a beautiful night…maybe in the high 60’s or 70’s and the only commotion is the pitter patter of little feet walking by and excited voices of children as they embark on their next Disney adventure.

I smiled as I drove in earlier, coming under the gates that read: “Welcome to Disney World: Where Dreams Come True.” It felt like a gentle nudge, as I drove underneath, to continue on my path. It’s amazing the signs of wonder that you get to be witness to if only your ears, eyes, and heart are open to receiving them.

I parked my car and got my bags together to go on a little adventure before I met Jen out for dinner. I walked out to the boardwalk and recognized it as I thought I might. Back during my time living in Florida, I had sang at a friend’s wedding over here. I sang “When I Fall in Love” as Amanda walked down the aisle at the happiest place on earth. That was the second wedding I ever sang, second only to my own sister’s wedding, and I didn’t realize the next time I came back here that I would be on the path of pursuing my dreams on a full-time basis. But I’m so thankful to be back here filled to the brim with dreams in my heart.

                                                                           

When I first made my way to the boardwalk, I made a pit stop in the restroom. In the stall next to me, a mother and a young daughter were going back and forth about something or another. I didn’t catch exactly what they were talking about until I heard the mother say something about the fact that she was really irritated with Disney. I listened closer to hear more about what her complaints were. She said that her daughter had never heard the word “hate” until she watched the movie, “Finding Nemo.” She went on and on about how she would have to watch every Disney movie three times forwards and backwards to ensure that didn’t happen again. I couldn’t help but sigh and realize the truth of the matter. That’s not realistic…no matter how you look at it. The mother can’t spend her whole life censoring every Disney movie to ensure they say everything right all the time. She’ll miss most of her daughter’s childhood obsessing over one word here or another there. And even if she spent the time to do that, her daughter would eventually leave the house at some point and here all the words she wants to shield her from…and then what?

While Disney presents a utopian-like atmosphere with all the things your heart and mind can imagine, once you go back under that Disney gate and enter Orlando, there’s no escaping the reality of our world. And though no one ever ensured that I didn’t hear the word “hate” growing up, I thank God that I was able to discern the fact that hate was a bad word. I’m fairly sure that woman’s daughter will be able to distinguish the same without missing out on any Disney movies.

It reminds me of a conversation that I had earlier today. I was actually just going to blog about that conversation originally, but after a short time here, I realized I had more to talk about than I had initially thought. I went to go get my eyebrows waxed by a woman who used to do them when I lived here. She’s currently working out of a different salon and is now self-employed. She’s unhappy as a business woman as she considers herself, rightfully so (especially if you saw what she did with my eyebrows…shameless plug: Helena Morton: Primp Salon, 1411 Trovillion Ave., Winter Park, FL), an artist. We discussed the pros and cons, mainly cons in her case, of being a business owner and all the responsibilities that one takes on when you go from being an employee to an employer. For me, I’m too much of a free spirit to have a boss anymore. I used to think I just had a problem with authority, but I realized it was much deeper than that, and far less angry. I’m simply too creative and have too many ideas to be constrained to the confines set forth by a manager or anyone who may have some kind of control over my work obligations. I have a relentless work ethic and I find it exhausting to try and place a value on that work ethic. Accordingly, it makes more sense to me to work for myself and, for the most part, by myself. I’ve seen the latest fruits of that labor at my EP Release Party, which was responsible for hosting about fifteen local artists and ten sponsors, all of whom I single-handedly coordinated.

Helena, on the other hand, has no problem being an employee. She wants to do what she does and not have to deal with all the extra obligations that come along with running the business (i.e. ordering supplies and keeping track of the numbers). While I am a free spirit and I like doing things myself, I can totally relate to this aspect of the dilemma, as well. While I was proud of all the work that I put into getting everything organized and prepared for 11.11.11, it left me little to no time to be an actual artist….no time for writing new material, barely any time to rehearse, and definitely no social time to relax and be inspired by life, which is where so much of my inspiration comes from. Yes, I can certainly empathize with Helena and I understand fully that it would just be easier to be an artist. Fortunately, Helena’s moving in that very direction now and should be back to doing strictly what she loves, alongside her adorable and loveable puppy, Lucky. As for me, I’m still doing it all. I’ve officially set the wheels in motion to complete a full-length album by my birthday this June.

What does any of that have to do with where we began? Well, we all have our own dreams and aspirations. For that mother, her dream is to provide her daughter with a life as perfect as she can create despite the world’s reality. For me, my dream is to become a global recording artist so that all the world may hear what it would be my honor and blessing to share. And for Helena, her dream is to help others feel and look even more beautiful by doing what she loves. 

Today, December 5^th, would have been Walt Disney’s birthday. I no longer believe in coincidences. I thank God to be fortunate enough to have made a stop at the happiest place on earth where dreams come true on the very day that the man who believed in dreams so much was born. I’ll leave you with this quote in honor and memory of this special man. “All our dreams can come true, if we have the courage to pursue them.” – Walt Disney 

Cuz I Gotta Have Faith

Image via Wikipedia

Well, well, well...it's been much too long, but I'm back! It's been a blessing to be as busy as I've been, but I need to make more time to dedicate to my writing...since it's my connection with YOU...besides my music. I attended a mixer for Bronx Small Business & Entrepreneurs last night and the discussion of bloggers reminded me that I couldn't remember the last time I blogged! Shame on me! Not that I haven't been writing...I've just been writing lyrics for the last couple months. The fruits of that labor are sure to unfold very soon and I can't wait to share them with you, too!

If you know even a smidge about me, you'll know that the reason I haven't had time to write lately is because I've been working tirelessly on my project, the first EP I've ever recorded. As time goes on, the EP continues to take on new a life...birthed by additional musicians joining me on the first track, "Back With You," and as a result of me stepping further into the role of producer with the 3 tracks that I'm working on.

In addition to the music that I'm currently working on, I've decided I need to do more. I have so much to share and it's virtually impossible to share everything I want to within 3-5 songs. Accordingly, I've started a new project through Kickstarter, whose aim is to secure the funding for a full-length album as well as the music video for "Back With You."

Aside from all of this, I'm in a very transitional place. Having sold all of my furniture and subletting an apartment, I'm surrounding myself with only the basics (and shoes, lot of shoes!). I have until August 15th to figure out the next step. By the grace of God, my rent is paid up until then and I'm just trying to figure out the next step.

Throughout all of this, I've not spent more than a moment worrying about what the next step is...well, maybe a moment or two. On Wednesday, June 22, 2011, I stopped by to speak to Pastor Mcdonald, someone who has undeniably been placed in my life at this moment for a very real reason. He had requested that I stop by, but hadn't given me a particular reason or anything to reflect upon before I got there. However, when I stopped by that day, my heart was heavy.

I went to meet him with these things in my heart and he began to speak. Before I had an opportunity to really share what was in my heart, God had found a way for him to speak the words I needed to hear. Not only did he reassure me that everything would work itself out (which it did and continues to do), but he proclaimed that I would be a household name and that I would serve a role to the children and women I'm so moved to inspire. Pastor Mcdonald likened me to Esther, a Jewish orphan who later became queen of Persia and the heroine of Purim. He told me to mark this day as he prophesied what my future would hold...and that's what this blog will serve to do.

A chance encounter with a homeless woman named Mary Beth the day before weighed so heavily on my heart prior to walking in to speak with him. I realized I could only give her love and compassion if she let me. But she would only allow me to do that for a limited amount of time. I encouraged her to love herself as much as I did and as much as God did. I could see in her eyes, she wanted to feel that way. She had lost her daughter and her boyfriend and she was truly lost. But somehow, a glimmer in her eye showed me that she's on the path to finding herself once again. Though she may not be ready yet, she is on her way. I gave her my business card and I pray that, when the time is right, she'll reach back out to me. She'll stay in my thoughts and prayers until that day. I know that I can be a voice and give a voice to the poor and oppressed. I cried as we hugged one another and May Beth asked why I was crying. I explained that I cried because I understand. I truly know the pain that she feels....aside from compassion, I have empathy. But even if you don't know what it's like to be in someone's shoes...try. You'll never know the difference you can make in someone's life just by taking the time to try to understand.

We've recently added "Faith" by George Michael to our latest set and it couldn't come at a more appropriate time. I've reached a place in my life that every step I take is focused on my faith. And with that faith, I have overcome getting my apartment broken into, my phone stolen, my finances falling short, and all the other bumps in the road that, at one point in my life, would've devastated me and knocked me down completely. Today, I stand by faith. Everyday I am reaffirmed in the fact that I have nothing to fear as long as I am faithful. I pray that you can find the same solace and serenity in your heart and mind....with faith.

That's What She Said

Image by Dain Sandoval via Flickr

In the last week, I've spent an abnormally large amount of my time in complete solitude. I've been working hard looking for audition opportunities and other job prospects. I've also been tirelessly trying write the lyrics and create a melody for a track I'm working on...trying being the key word. I play the track on repeat...then again...and again...until I can barely distinguish the beginning from the end of the song....and still...nothin'.

I've been in a serious funk...my personal life has seen better days to say the least. I know that the beauty of time is that nothing lasts forever...the great, nor the awful...nothing. So I wake up everyday hoping to be on another upswing.

I try my best to remember to praise God everyday and be grateful for another day to keep trying. Somedays that's easier than others...I'm sure you know the feeling. Aside from my faith, I also try to maintain my sense of humor during these times. Although I'm spending more time than I'd like to by myself and hitting a lot of walls, I still try and catch every opportunity I can to follow a thought with "that's what she said"...even if it's in my own head.

Sun Showers

Image by Night Owl City via Flickr

Thursday, August 5, 2010, 5:45 a.m.: WANG. WANG. WANG. WANG. My alarm clock went off, but I was already awake. I had gone to bed only hours before and I'd woken up almost every half-hour since. It was the morning of my best friend's father's funeral. I had already had 2 exhausting days driving between the Bronx and Long Island, stopping in Manhattan to pick up and entertain some friends from out of town for the last 24 hours. Exhausting, yes...but nothing compared to what my best friend and her family had to endure during the weeks leading up to her father's death.

I got out of bed and made my way to the shower, hoping the water would rejuvinate me...but it just wasn't that kind of day. I opened my front door and saw that it was raining...appropriate weather for what I guessed would be a dreary day on all levels. It seemed as though nothing could lift my spirits or really wake me up. I got dressed, packed a change of clothes and some other odds and ends, and made my way to Starbucks in hopes that a latte would help perk me up (pun intended). I left more than 3 hours early because I wasn't sure how traffic would be and I didn't want to take any chance of being late...but at least the rain had stopped.

I arrived to the church almost 2 1/2 hours early, but I wasn't the first one there. There was a pickup truck full of firemen ready to pay their final respects and honor their friend and comrade. It touched my heart to see them there so early. It was the first time during the day that I smiled...and it felt like God had tapped me on the shoulder and reminded me of the goodness of people.

I eventually made my way into the church to meet with the organist and cantor. My best friend had requested that I sing the communion song during the mass, "On Eagle's Wings." It's one of my very favorite hymns and it was included at my grandmother's funeral. It always gets me choked up so I was really nervous that I wasn't going to be able to get through it. I met with Jean, the organist, and she offered great advice, consolement, and assurance that I would be fine. Her kindness made me smile for the second time that day...and it felt like God had tapped me on the shoulder again so as to remind me that as long as I sing with my heart, it would be beautiful.

I took a seat in a pew and anxiously waited for everyone to enter. I looked over and realized the cantor had arrived. I walked over to her and we chatted breifly about the song. Her name was Pat; she was a high school music teacher and said that she adapted quickly so not to worry. And for the third time, I smiled...and again, God tapped me on my shoulder...this time, reminding me to take a deep breath and mentally prepare for what was about to happen.

Mass began ceremoniously...with the firemen of Ladder Company 38 leading the way. It was beautiful. I looked across the way and caught eyes with my best friend long enough to blow each other kisses and say, "I love you." The priest gave a a moving a eulogy and shared his own interactions with this great man. Two friends spoke and shared their personal memories, which included some of the antics he was known for. Laughter errupted throughout the church. I not only smiled this time...I laughed, too. And this time it was not God tapping me on the shoulder, it was my friend's father himself. He was reminding me...and everyone else in attendance...that he wanted this day to be a celebration...and not a day of tears. And though I wished I could honor his wish completely, I was able to at least insert some laughter in between tears.

The mass ended and I stayed behind to receive communion. I thanked Pat & Jean for their help. Jean gave me a strong hug, the kind that feels like it's actually replenishing some of the strength that you've cried out of yourself. She held me tight and said that she could hear that I sang from my heart...and that it would be something that my friend and I would always have as part of our friendship. I sobbed in her embrace. And though I wasn't smiling, I could feel God tapping me on the shoulder again...reminding me it was ok to cry. 

I got into my car and followed the long caravan of cars towards the veterans' cemetary, which was about 45 minutes away. Due to him being a war veteran and a member of NYFD, not to mention the number of family and friends in attendance, the police department shut off side roads and escorted us the entire way. I took the opportunity to call my mother during the drive. At that moment, I didn't need God to remind me...I remembered how fortunate I was to have both my parents still in my life.

We arrived at the veterans' cemetary and proceeded to gather in his final resting place. It was a beautiful day; the sun was shining down brightly. The soldiers fired off their gun salute in honor of this brave man…literally the bravest man I’ve ever known: a pilot, a courageous firefighter for 38 years, and a first responder during the 9/11 attacks. Another soldier played Taps and it started to set in that this was truly the end. Finally, a bag piper played the last tune and a woman from the funeral home said a closing prayer, following it with us all reciting the “Our Father” together. It was time to say goodbye. My friend and her family placed their white roses on his casket and watched as others dropped their flowers and said farewell. As the last rose was dropped, huge rain drops started to fall through the sun-drenched sky. I smiled. This time, he and God, were working together to remind us to not linger and be sad…it was time to return to their family home for the party he had requested. I grinned from ear to ear as I ran to my car, realizing just what was happening. As we all returned to our cars and began to drive off, the rain stopped and the sun gleamed as bright as before. It was perfect.

I arrived back at my friend’s house where the cars lined the streets all the way to the end. A neighbor had placed fire helmets and American flags on an island that separated the street. Signs in neighbors’ driveways welcomed his friends and family to park wherever they needed. The sun was still out, but now there was a gentle breeze that blew. I smiled again…God was reminding me they would be at the party, too. It was a beautiful day, a wonderful party with some of the most amazing people I have ever had the honor of meeting, and an eye-opening experience to realize the importance of celebrating life. Celebrating the life of someone can be the most profound and helpful way of mourning the loss of someone as extraordinary as he was. All day I had “Two Step” by Dave Matthews Band stuck in my head, whose chorus jubilantly sings, “Celebrate we will ‘cause life is short, but sweet for certain.” I smiled throughout the entire party…realizing that we were all there because we were honoring his wish to do just that…celebrate.

My friend was inundated with news reporters and phone calls as soon as she arrived home for the party. She was unbothered by any of it and she didn’t hesitate to speak to anyone. She spoke passionately about the loss of her father…the bravery he demonstrated in life, the humor he brought to everyday, and the legacy he now left behind. She is now fighting to help pass a 9/11 healthcare bill…a bill that was rejected just 2 days before her father’s death, a death attributed to the cancer he got as a result of being a first responder during that tragic day. As I watched and listened to her speak, I could see that her father had clearly not gone anywhere. In her eyes, I saw a glimmer…and I smiled. It was God reminding me that our loved ones never really go anywhere…not as long as we keep them in our hearts and our minds. My friend is a living legacy of her father and I am honored to call her a friend. And though her father may not be with us in the physical sense, he and God made themselves more than visible throughout the day…a sign that faith sometimes grows stronger when you least expect it. Today, I celebrate my life, my faith, my friendship, and the realization that God is everywhere…you just have to be paying attention.