Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts

Thursday, September 15, 2011

Living, loving, & leaving legacies

Panaramic View from the Jerome Hoxie Scenic Ov...Image via Wikipedia
Legacies. It's a topic of conversation that I find myself having more frequently these days. I've always found the importance of others' legacies, but never truly considered the impact on my own. I've been stuck in Rhode Island for a few extra days waiting for a replacement light for my truck. I guess we'll start with how that happened since I've got some time to write...for the first time in a long time.

A couple weeks ago, I was parking my car and backed into a tree, which broke the entire light off my truck.  My depth perception's been way off lately due to pure exhaustion. Living in a neighborhood where I came home to gun shots ringing through the air on a regular basis led me to putting all of my belongings in a storage unit lent to me by a friend from church. I've been crashing on friends' couches and trying to figure out my next step for a couple weeks. Having just taken a new job, I'm not in a financial position to move anywhere and the man who rented me the room will not give me my deposit back. This trip to Rhode Island couldn't have come at a better time. I was at my breaking point and I needed to get some perspective...and rest.

This trip was pre-destined as I had a family reunion to attend here. I had pushed really hard for us to re-unite this year. My Aunt Peggy used to do a lot of the organization for it, but since she and my uncle passed, we hadn't been as organized at putting it together. This past Easter, I talked to one of my cousins about planning our reunion and offered whatever help I could in getting it back as an annual event. I got a text from her shortly after and I guess my response, as brief as it was, was enough to inspire an email and getting the wheels in motion to reserve a spot at Goddard Park, where we always had them in the past. I followed her lead and created a Facebook invitation to reach out to other members of the family that may not have received the email. We were on our way to continue the legacy, which began with her mother.

Just as I felt like I might go insane from worrying about where I was going to sleep and how  I was going to make my life work in New York, it was time to come home to my family reunion...which I was late for. My cousin and I joked when I arrived about me being late since I was the one who had pushed so hard for it to happen. Man, it felt good to laugh. It also felt amazing to be surrounded by my family, who have been watching my journey on Facebook and I realized how tremendously supportive they are and how much they believe in me. I couldn't bare to tell them the truth about what was going on back with my living situation.

I told one of my cousins, the one whom I've confided in before. And the only reason I really told her was so that I could ask for her to pray for me. I'm not holding my hand out to anyone to beg for help or look for an easy way out. Nothing worth having or doing is ever easy. I accept that truth and I embrace the challenges I have faced and continue to face. They have built me to be the strong young woman I am proud to be today. It's part of my legacy.

While I was home, I stayed with my brother (though not a brother by blood, he's as much my family as any one of my blood relatives). My first night there, I played music with him in his jam room. It felt good to get on the drums and bang out some of my confusion, frustration, and exhaustion....so good that I passed out in his jam room. I woke up at 6 a.m. alone in the jam room and walked to my car so I could get a decent kind of rest in a bed at his house. As I walked out, I realized my car had been hit. I was too tired to really react to it. Reacting to it changed nothing anyway.

I went to his house and got some rest. When I woke up, I told him what happened. Without a second thought, he responded with, "Oh, that was me." I had to laugh. I was so grateful that he was the one who had done it because I wouldn't be mad at him and at least I had someone to blame if I really wanted to. he offered to put it through his insurance, but I shrugged it off and told him I had more important things to deal with than my bumper. If nothing else, my life's trials and tribulations have taught me perspective...something I'm grateful to add to my legacy.

I went to my parents' house and showed my father my light. Upon inspection, it was decided I needed to replace the entire light encasement. I had been pulled over 2 days in a row prior to arriving in RI and I couldn't return with the light the way it was. I had already gotten a ticket for the tint on my front windows the first time I was pulled over. My father and I peeled the tint off my window and he ordered me a new light through a local salvage yard. And he told me he would pay for the light. If you know anything about my father, he's not one to volunteer to pay for anything. One of his most common sayings growing up was, "If you girls didn't have your mother, you'd get NOTHING from me." Sounds harsh, but if you knew my dad, you'd just laugh when you heard him say it.

My dad's a good man with a heart of gold, a cancer survivor, who gave most of his life to the telephone company. He worked tirelessly as we were growing up, taking any overtime he could. Having three daughters wasn't cheap and my mother's mental illness took a toll on family's finances for the better part of my life. He was always trying to catch up and/ or stay afloat. That is part of his legacy.

My mother got involved with ordering the light, too. She made sure I wrote down my VIN number and all the info about my truck so they'd have it ready when they ordered it. My mother is a remarkable woman, so quiet now and slow with her motions. She's endured more than most 10 people off the street. She's suffered from manic-depression my entire life, in and out of mental hospitals for most of my childhood. She's survived breast cancer after a misdiagnosis and been diagnosed with diverticulitis and colitis. Last year she had a hip replacement, whose surgery spiraled a manic episode  and then got re-admitted after finally making her way to rehab because her wound opened. My mother seems to be a walking study of Murphy's Law....but she has survived it all. She may not be the loud and boisterous woman she was once known for, but I thank God she's alive.

This morning I went to visit my Gram, my grandmother on my father's side and my only living grandparent.  I do my best to pay her a visit every time I'm home. At 90 years old, she looks and sounds amazing. I'm so grateful to have had the opportunity to play her my music. She may never see the day (if) I walk down an aisle or have any children, but I'm so grateful to God that she's alive to hear the music I've given birth to and to watch my boldly follow my dreams. We sat and talked about my grandfather, an amazing artist, my  great uncle, whom I've never had the pleasure of meeting, and the Hoxie's, my uncle's family, in California. My Pa, as I affectionately called my grandfather, was left an orphan, but spent much of his life tracing his lineage despite being abandoned by his father. My grandfather understood the importance of legacy and certainly left an impressionable one as a loving husband, a caring grandfather, a cheerful neighbor, a talented artist, and so much more.

I left the nursing home once I walked my grandmother down to lunch. She's always so proud to introduce her granddaughter from NEW YORK! I love the pride she has as she introduces me to her friends and I'm glad I didn't mention not having a place to live during our visit. Before I left, I told her I'd have a music video to show her the next time I came to visit, kissed her goodbye, and choked back tears until I reached the front door.

From there, I drove to the memorial plot of my friend, Tim Lyons. If you're not familiar with who Tim is, you can read more about his life and legacy in one of my past blogs (Forever Young). Tim's life was tragically cut short by a drunk driver when were in 8th grade. During this trip home, I also visited our junior high to talk to the principal about replacing the tree that had been planted in his memory the year it happened. The junior high went under major renovations last year and Tim's tree was ripped up as a result. I'm working hard to ensure that Tim's legacy lives on and I have a few friends working to ensure this happens.

Just as I got in my car from visiting Tim's memorial, I got on my Blackberry and posted a picture of the plaque that still stands in the place where he was struck. As I scrolled down my news feed, I saw a post from my college roommate, one of my very best friends. Her grandmother had just passed away, only 1 year from when her father, a firefighter and first responder for 9/11 had passed away(See Sun Showers, another past blog, to learn more about her father's legacy). Tears streamed down my face as I realized the year she had faced. I was glad that her grandmother was alive to see her get engaged, but saddened at the notion that both her father and grandmother would be absent from the wedding. And again, I was reminded to put my life into perspective.

As the clock ticks, I'm trying to patiently wait for the phone call saying that my light is ready to pick up so that I can get on the road and back to New York. I have to get back to make it to band rehearsal and face my reality...a reality that is so daunting sometimes that I barely know where to begin. But I'm strong and I will persevere through all of it. I can't wait to overcome all of these challenges and continue to pursue my dream. I will keep on keepin' on. And I will write to tell you of my triumph over all of this. And that is my legacy.





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Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Happy Thanksgiving!

The First Thanksgiving, painted by Jean Leon G...Image via Wikipedia
Ahhh, the night before Thanksgiving. I just left the city, which was buzzing more than usual thanks to the upcoming holiday. The subway was packed, but people seemed to be in a particularly good mood despite being packed in like sardines. There's something about the holidays the tends to bring out the best in people, but it's also a time that can be challenging for others.

I have a few friends this year who have chosen to play it low key for the holidays, opting out of the traditional routes and seeking solace in more quiet and private settings, keeping to themselves. Being a rather private person myself, I can respect and appreciate that. Sometimes the holidays do more to highlight the divisions in families more than bring them together. I think that many times we place so much emphasis on certain holidays' logistics that we forget the essence of the holiday itself. I've done my best this year to really take the time to focus on what holidays like Thanksgiving are all about....being thankful for all of the people and blessings in my life. And though we reserve just one day of the year to express this gratitude, let us be mindful to do this everyday. I'm thankful for each and every one of you! Happy Thanksgiving!
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Monday, August 23, 2010

We Are Family

A Date with Your FamilyImage via Wikipedia
Many people think that family is defined by a mother, father, siblings, etc...but I'm a firm believer that family is just not that black and white...family is not built on blood alone. I, myself, am the product of a family with many shades of grey. Growing up with a mother who suffered from manic depression and a father struggling with alcoholism, my house was not always the safest place for me to be. Luckily, my life was blessed with  guardian angels here on earth who saved my life on more than one occassion and in many different ways.

I don't want to give you the impression that I grew up without my family...that would be inaccurate. My parents did the very best they could under the circumstances...and though it took me the better part of my life to realize it, they're humans...not the superheroes I once expected them to be. I just want to convey the message that I love my parents and I'm grateful for the role they played in my life...but my life would not be what it is today without the help of the rest of my family...the family that I was not born into, but who undeniably loved me and and took me in as their own.

My father worked for the phone company and used to go to get-togethers and other parties held by his co-workers. At one of these such events, my parents became friendly with another couple. This couple had 3 sons and the wife had told my mother she would be happy to babysit me and my sisters any time...she had always wanted a little girl...and though I'm sure she didn't realize it at the time...that's just what she would get.

Sometime not too shortly after that, my mother ended up taking her up on her offer to babysit. My mother was in and out of mental hospitals for the better part of my childhood. And while my mother was getting treated for her mental illness, my father was self-medicating and in and out of rehab and AA. The breaking point was when I was a little over a year old. I was running a fever and silent. My mother was having a manic episode, but managed to call this woman to get her opinion. She came over to the house immediately and convinced my mother to call my doctor. The doctor told her to bring me to the hospital and he'd meet her there. They took me to the hospital where they proceeded to give me a spinal tap. I didn't cry...I did nothing. The doctors told my family it would be a mircale if I made it through the night. I was diagnosed with spinal meningitis. Well, congratulations, you officially know a miracle...little old me.

Surviving spinal meningitis was only the beginning...the next 12 years would prove to be some of the hardest years. Despite the trying times, this family...who I was not related to...would step up to the plate time and time again defying the concept that family is defined by blood. In that time, I gained two extra parents and three brothers...a support system that I would have been lost without.

I am grateful everyday for my family...my whole family. They have all helped to shape me to be the person that I am today. They have helped me understand the true meaning of family...unconditional love and going above and beyond...even when you don't have to...when you're family, you don't question if you have to...you just do it.


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Thursday, July 29, 2010

The Dreaded "L" Word

A chicken runningImage via Wikipedia

I'm not talking about lesbian...the other L word. Ya know, the one that seems to be a point of contention with so many people. I luh, luh, luhhhhh...why is it so hard to let that word roll off your tongue to certain people? I mean we tell our family and friends that we love each other without a second thought. So why is that so many of us have SUCH a hard time saying the L word? I mean, it's just a word, right?

There may be an argument that says that men have a harder time saying than women. But for me, I feel like I have just as hard of a time as any man allowing myself to say the word. Wait, let me clarify. It's not so much that I have a hard time saying the word as it is that I have a difficult time allowing someone to know that my feelings are that strong...which equates to me being vulnerable. That's really the bottom line. It's not that I don't want them to know that I love them, it's that I don't want them to hurt me. So if I don't say it, maybe it won't hurt as much...especially if they don't love me back. Sounds good in theory, but even as I type it, I know it will hurt just as much whether they know I love them or not.

I guess it's obvious from some of my past blogs (and conversations if you speak to me in person) that love is not something that I take for granted. I LOVE the IDEA of love. And I certainly have so many people that I feel blessed to love and be loved by. I am gushing with love and I am a firm believer in telling people that I love them because I never know if it might be the last opportunity that I have to tell them. I don't mean to be morbid, but it's a simple fact that we sometimes take for granted. I've lost enough people in my life to realize the importance of letting people know how I feel when I'm feeling it. So why then, is a girl who is bursting at the seams with love, having such a hard time telling the one person that she loves in "that special way" (for lack of a better term) that I love him. Well, to be honest...I'm not having a hard time at all.

In the past, the L word was played like a game of chicken in previous relationships. It was ok to say I like you or I care about you or maybe I miss you. But there was something so daunting about saying luh, luh, luuuhhhh. Why? Well, aside from the previously mentioned reason of being afraid of becoming vulnerable or getting hurt...it was also because there's something scary about being the first one to say it. What if they don't say it back? What if they really don't love you back? The what if's go on and on. But if you really love someone, the L word is inevitable...and all those what if's go out the window.

Love has definitely been on my mind more than usual as of late...and maybe even more than EVER since I met the person I'm currently dating. Within the first days of us talking and getting to know one another, he uttered those three words. I. Love. You. He said it without hesitation and unapologetically. When he first said it, I laughed it off. He said it again a few more times and I told him to stop. Who could love someone so soon after getting to know them? Not me...and I let him know that.

But why? Is it because it's against some set of unspoken rules or because love couldn't possibly be real in that amount of time? Was it really fair of me to respond the way I did when I, of all people, know how hard it is to tell someone you love them? I don't know. What I do know is that shortly after laughing it off and telling him to stop...I said it back. It wasn't because I felt obligated to say it. It was because it's how I felt (feel). In getting to know him more and more, I fell in love with the person he is and everything he stands for. And if he was just a friend, I would've said it a million times before I actually ended up saying it. And now that I've said it back, it flows from my lips (and through my texts) with the same confidence and unapologetic nature as when he first said it. And I mean it...with all of my heart and with everything I know to be true. I realize now that even if things don't ultimately work out with him, it doesn't change how I feel right now.

And since my latest surge of moving forward and letting go of fears has overtaken me, I feel a certain obligation to share this sense of urgency with others. If you love someone, regardless of your relationship...friend, family, girl/ boyfriend, husband, or wife...whether you've known them for 50 years or 5 days...don't forget to tell them you love them. Even though I know I said it's just a word, it's one of the most important words you'll ever say.

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