When Bad Things Happen To Good People

Yesterday, Chris and I attended the Memorial Service of a woman we didn't personally know, but who touched the lives of many. Her name was Deana Weitzel, and she was a wife, mom, sister, daughter, co-worker, and friend. Her husband, Mike, was deployed with Chris to Iraq, just last year, and he came home at the same time as Chris, in early August. After his return, Mike and Deana went on a vacation to Paris. When they returned she went to her doctor because she wasn't feeling well and was diagnosed with Acute Leukemia. She endured chemotherapy and tried some experimental treatments, and from what I've heard, she was responding to these treatments well. Just a few months after her diagnosis, she passed away, leaving her husband and two children, a daughter and son.

Yesterday, I was reminded of how fragile life is and how quickly the people we dearly love can be taken from us. This was the third funeral I've attended in the past six months, and the second for a 44-year-old who died of cancer, the first being, my Uncle Pat. As I sat in the Church listening to loved ones and friends reminisce about this wonderful woman, Deana, I found myself deeply touched. I thought about my own children and how hard it would be for me to leave them. I remembered how much I yearned for my husband to return from deployment and contemplated how challenging it would be to face a diagnosis, such as cancer, just when I was rejoicing his homecoming.

Last night I fell asleep knowing that I need to make more of an effort to tell my loved ones how much I truly love them, to call my friends more often to let them know that I'm thinking of them, to pray for those who are suffering and continue to pray for them when they are well, to enjoy the moments in life when I am able to spend time with my husband and children.

I pray for the entire Weitzel family. It is my hope that one day, when I leave this world, I will have left an imprint on the lives of others, as Deana obviously did. She was a shining star, who lit up many lives, and who will continue to do so from Heaven.

My Week In Review

I haven't blogged much lately, basically because I've started writing a second novel and when I'm concentrating on a new project, it consumes me. I have a goal to write for a solid 2-3 hours a day, some days I actually reach it. What I do know is that when writing, I am a happier person. I will continue to work on selling my first novel, a process which can take years. I will also continue to research literary agents and follow their blogs. I have learned so much in this business, more than I knew even a few short months ago, yet I realize there is still much to learn. I will continue to blog, perhaps not as frequently. Therefore, here is a recap of the last week of my life.

*Allison turned three. What a wonderful child she is and I am so truly blessed. Granted, she still refuses to go the the YMCA nursery, but she is a champ at home when I'm working out. She has a difficult time falling asleep at night, and although I never quite know what to expect at bedtime, I always get to wake up to lots of hugs and kisses. She is finally potty trained during the day. We celebrated her birthday with a Dora the Explorer party which several of Chris' family members were able to attend. Oh, and she loves to color...all day long.

*Our furnace broke. Obviously this happened the morning of Allison's birthday party because whenever you've invited people over for dinner, a crisis is bound to occur. We lucked out though, with warmer than average January temperatures, so by using our gas fireplace, it didn't get too unbearably cold in the house. After receiving two estimates, we chose a new furnace and had it installed yesterday. Yes, we are a bit poorer, but at least we're warm.

*Chris and I watched the premiere of Lost last night. I wish I could give you some insight as to what questions were answered, but I'm still trying to figure that out myself. I will say that Terry O'Quinn is an amazing actor, and his portrayal of dual roles is quite impressive.

*Madison officially dropped out of Choir because she just feels too overwhelmed. The plus side- that frees up one hour of our week. The downside- I really enjoyed watching her sing in Choir.

*Peyton received his First Reconciliation and participated in his first Cub Scout Pinewood Derby. I was enormously proud of him for both. What was really special was being able to watch him and Chris build the Derby car together.

*Chris has been working many many hours. He is home for dinner each night, but typically is on the computer working until going to bed. I do love having him home though, I still find it hard to believe that at this time last year, he was in Iraq.

*I joined my Church's Relay For Life team in what will be my third year participating. After losing my uncle to cancer this past summer this Relay is more poignant for me. Chris and I will also be attending the funeral of a lady this Saturday, who died of leukemia last week, just five months after her diagnosis and six months after her husband returned from Iraq. I will continue to raise money in an effort to wipe out this insidious disease.

*I was contacted by Chicken Soup for the Soul for a story I wrote a couple of months ago. They want to publish it in Chicken Soup for the Runner's Soul. I am honored and excited, and since I've been running my entire life, it's even more special. I think it will be released in July, so stay tuned...

Anyway, that's my week in a nutshell. Until next time...

Motivation...Or Lack Of

I wasn't much in the writing mood today and definitely not in the mood to research agents and send out query letters. Until right this very moment, I haven't felt much like blogging. I checked out a website that I occasionally write for and discovered some nasty comments about my last article were in fact posted. The odd, yet funny thing is, they aren't comments about the article itself, the concept, or the writing...they are rather, insignificant musings about the religion which I was writing about. Believe me, the men (as all of the names would lead me to believe) are really disgruntled about past experiences in the Church and they choose to squash any progress or information, because of it. Whatever...that's their issue, not mine.

I sit here on my couch with my laptop listening to a fierce game of hide-and-go-seek going on upstairs. Maddie and Peyton have completed their homework, the house is clean, dinner has been planned but not made, and Ally is currently wearing a pair of sunglasses in order to look like her older sister (who wears glasses). Our furnace is on the fritz, my husband is among the missing, and I promised to take M & P to their school skate night. I will not be skating having just recovered from a knee injury, but they'll have a good time.

I'm not really feeling sorry for myself, just rather lethargic, as the day goes on. Perhaps tomorrow I'll be more inspired and will once again type out a couple thousand words in the novel I'm currently writing, or I'll finish my entry for the PNWA writing contest. Maybe I'll do some more query research, or continue thickening my skin for rejections and negative reviews. Either way, tomorrow will be a new day and hopeful more inspiring.

I've added a follower gadget. If you read this blog, please think about becoming an official follower. I promise not to stalk you or ask for surveys, or other time consuming assistance. Hopefully in time, my husband won't be the only one who reads my work.

Have a great day, and even to the disgruntled Catholics, peace be with you.

Mommyhood

2009 brought many things to our family, including four babies on my husband's side. Just this past Sunday, we got a serious baby fix when almost all of these babies were together and we literally had the opportunity to pass them around and cuddle with them. As I'm approaching the third birthday of my youngest, I find myself reminiscing about parenthood...what I thought it was going to be like....versus what it actually is.

I had a lot of notions when I was pregnant with my first. My ideas of starting a family went beyond the perfect crib, cute clothing, and most safe car seat. I truly believed that at night when I laid her down in her cradle, she would sleep soundly until it was time to nurse her again. I reasoned that nursing would be easy- after all, women have been doing it for centuries and what could be easier than feeding an infant warm milk from your own body? I figured, with support from my husband, our perfect child would instantly mold her routine into ours...that which we were accustomed to.

Then I gave birth and realized how wrong I'd been. Honestly, I knew parenthood would be an adjustment, as I'd heard for years, "parenting is the hardest job there is." Yet, what came after Madison's birth was such a shock that nine years later, I still haven't completely recovered. Of all of those plans and routines and rules I'd envisioned, I missed the one most important component...the baby. Until I had Madison, I didn't know what it was to be tired and at the same time awake enough to feed a child in the middle of the night after only two hours of sleep. I didn't understand what fussiness, or tummy aches, or teething pain could do to a baby- and how loud their cry would sound at 3:00am. I didn't know the fear of a first high fever, or the anxiety of leaving her with a babysitter, or the insurmountable love I would feel whenever she smiled at me.

Slowly the insecurities and exhaustion washed away, and we welcomed Peyton and Allison. I learned first hand that no two children are alike. Everything which worked for Madison didn't work for Peyton or Ally. My three children are no more alike than different fingerprints. With each of them, we were relearning how to cope, to struggle, to love them in the ways they needed us to. In fact, we are still learning how to be parents, every single day.

Until I became a mom, I didn't understand the sadness I would feel when my son lost his first school election, or the fear that would shoot through my system the first time Madison fell off of the high balance beam. I didn't realize the anxiety I would feel while standing in an emergency room with Allison coughing so hard, I thought her lungs might burst. Before having kids, I didn't realize that the more you read to them, the better readers they will become. I didn't know that it is entirely possible to be thrown up on by three different people in one night, or that I would look forward to hearing "hi Mommy," whenever I came home from the grocery store. I didn't know how frustrated I'd be seeing newly washed clothing thrown back into the laundry basket or how wonderful it is to get multiple hugs and kisses throughout the day.

Every day I learn something new as a parent. What worked yesterday in getting my toddler to eat her vegetables will certainly not work tomorrow. Likewise, no one will go to bed when I ask them to, or clean up their rooms without being told, and they will never request the same movie on Family Movie Night because that would make life too easy. And when it comes right down to it, parenthood is never easy, no matter how much we wish for it to be.

Forgiveness

What is forgiveness?

According to my handy online Thesaurus...
1. Compassionate feelings that support a willingness to forgive.
2. The act of excusing a mistake or offense.

This would lead me to believe that in order to be forgiven or pardoned, one must have committed a mistake, an offense, a blatant error which hurt another. Yet, I question...is this always the case? Does the offender typically know when they are hurting another, or is the other possibly incapable of forgiveness, or perhaps fashioning a crime in their mind, so that they have a reason to be bitter and angry?

I know in my life, I have hurt other people. I haven't been there when I should have, I've forgotten to call when they needed me, I've said something which was taken the wrong way- or was a comment I shouldn't have said period. I've also been hurt by others. I've been left out, I've been lied to and put down, I've been gossiped about. At what point is it time to let go of these past transgressions and go on with life?

No one benefits from bitterness and grudge holding. No one lives a longer life by gossiping and defaming the reputation of the innocent. The inability to forgive, no matter the reason, will eat away at your soul until there is nothing left but a shell of the vibrant person you once were. Recruiting a following of fellow haters, for no other reason, than to form a camaraderie of animosity to feed off of perceived transgressions will do nothing but lower others to your level of empty gratification.

I also realize there are crimes which are often impossible to forgive- murder, molestation and rape, abuse, the list is long. I'll be honest in admitting, if someone hurt my child, I may never forgive them. Yet, I find inspiration in the mother who visits the drunk driver who killed her son in prison, the woman who turns a terrible sexual assault into a passion for educating college co-eds into the dangers of campus date rape, the family who chooses not to pursue wrongful death charges and rather advocates for causes to keep these occurrences from happening again.

My plea for today is this...
An end to a needless cycle of----
*hating another, just for the sake of hating
*refusing to forgive the innocent based on feelings of grief and bitterness
*choosing to follow a gossiper because it is easy to thrive off of controversies and look for blame.
I think if we could all do this, the world would be a better place...if nothing else, we'd all be a lot happier.

Why I Love Baby Blues

I'll admit it, I'm a Baby Blues junkie. I'm being completely honest in saying the comic strip alone is the primary reason I buy the newspaper. Who wants to read about all of the depressing things happening in our society when I can absorb myself into the lives of Zoe, Hammie, and Wren? Three children with frazzled parents...sounds a lot like my own life. The strip this week has been about Zoe needing to do a school research project on an invention. She chose to report on the invention of...the rug. Sounds like something my kids would do.

Dreams and Loss

I've always had really vivid dreams, some which make sense and others that are just bizarre. Last night- or more accurately- this morning, due to almost sleeping in, I had one that's still got me thinking.

From what I remember, I was living in a different house. That's not too weird since I often dream that my husband and I are moving. Usually, we sell our house and buy one that needs a lot of work. The new houses are never nice, extremely messy (one of them even had rotted food left in the kitchen for me to clean up), and always I'm panicking over why we sold our house for "this." Anyway, in this dream the house had a basement with three bedrooms and a large closet for my photo albums and books. Oh, and my dad lived there. He informed us that my brother was moving in too.

Before I had time to adjust to living with my dad and brother again, I was walking through a mall and saw a lot of people who I went to college with. I was talking to them about basketball and my writing. As I was leaving, toward a long hallway, I saw a former neighbor who played for the GU basketball team. He remembered me and as we were talking we walked toward a large fish tank. After passing the tank, I lost him among the crowd.

I then walked toward a door which was being held open and that's when I saw them...my grandma and grandpa. They were both standing in the doorway, essentially holding the door open for people. I wanted to reach them and talk to them. You see, my grandpa passed away five months ago, yet in my dream, he looked so healthy and happy. He wasn't reclined in a chair, or unable to walk without assistance, or barely able to speak. He was happy and vibrant and standing proudly beside my grandma. I wanted to reach them and hug them both, but I was only able to get to my grandma and hug her. Before I could touch grandpa and tell him how much I miss him, I woke up.

I don't know what my dream meant, it didn't make much sense at all. What I do know is that I woke up this morning with an ache in my chest, knowing that I'll never again see my grandpa alive. I wish I could have reached him before the dream ended, if nothing else than to tell him one more time how much I love him.