No love, no friendship can cross the path of our destiny without leaving some mark on it forever."
. . . Francois Mauriac
I cannot, no...I take that back. I will not say good bye to you, for to me, the word ‘goodbye’ has always had such a harsh and final sound to it. Instead, I will say to you, "Vaya con Dios."
Vaya con Dios my friend, and know that the memories, the laughter, and the adventures, will be with us always, and your spirit will forever echo in our hearts.
You can’t go home again. Or can you?
In my lifetime, I’ve heard this saying over and over again. I was never quite sure what people meant by this because I’ve moved away from Nebraska twice and both times, I’ve ‘come home’. Both times, the minute my feet hit that Nebraska earth and I smelled that Nebraska air, I felt calm and settled. At peace in some way. During my high school years, I moved from Oklahoma (where I was born and raised) to Wichita, Kansas; to Fort Worth, Texas then back to Wichita, Kansas and then finally to Omaha. I have to say that while living in Wichita was okay, it wasn’t home and Texas never felt like home.
I’m not quite sure that I’ve always believed that a person can be homesick. KJ and I moved to Michigan when the kids were small; Lynsay wasn’t even in school yet. We lived there for 2 years and while I missed Nebraska, I wasn’t homesick. We loved living there. We made some great friends and really, it was some of the best years of our lives. I was involved in the kids school; volunteered one morning a week in Lynsay’s kindergarten class, accompanied both of the kids classes on field trips, volunteered at Field Day, etc. I even had a part time job at a Hallmark store.
In the two and a half years that we lived in California, I never quite felt like I belonged, it never felt like ‘home’ to me. I didn’t drive a car that cost more than a years salary. I didn’t wear Jimmy Choo shoes or carry a Louis Vuitton bag. I didn’t have my nails done every week. And I certainly didn’t have diamonds dripping off every finger. When I went to get my eyes checked in February, the optomitrist asked me how I liked living in California. I told him that I loved the weather, loved being able to drive to the beach and loved taking adventure trips with my husband. I then said that I also felt that the people in California were very materialistic. He nodded and said, “Yes, here, you are what you drive.” I chuckled and said, “I drive a 2002 Hyundai Santa Fe, I wonder what that makes me.”
Living in California, I discovered the true meaning of the word ‘homesick’. Don’t get me wrong; California is beautiful and we have a beautiful house there that I turned into a warm and welcoming home. I loved the fact that in a few hours time, we could be anywhere - the beach, LA, San Diego. We had wonderful adventures while we were living there. But something was missing: My kids. My family. My friends. There were days where I missed my kids so much, my heart literally ached. It made me think time and again how my mom must have felt to have me living so far away. No matter how old you get, you’re always your mothers children and when you don’t live close to your children, it brings an ache to your heart like no other.
I’ve been home for a little over 3 months now. In the short time that I’ve been home, I’ve lost my mom and have been grieving the loss of her in my own way. But I’ve also been able to see my kids on a regular basis, reconnect with my friends, meeting them for coffee, lunch, dinner or the movies, and I’m now back to being closer in proximity to my sister.
I’ve heard the saying that ‘Home is where your mom is” and while my mom was alive, I truly believed that. Going home to my mom brought a lightness to my heart, a calmness to my soul. Every time I drove to Oklahoma City, once I hit the state line, it seemed as if I couldn’t get home to my mom fast enough. Oklahoma may be the land of my birth but Nebraska? Nebraska is where I grew up.
These days I believe that ‘home is where your heart is’. My heart has always been in Nebraska. My cup runneth over with blissful happiness at being back home with my children.
When someone tells you that you ‘can’t go home again’, trust me when I say, “yes, yes you can.”
Here’s to 2011 … may it be a year of renewal; a year of lost love being found again, new love being discovered; old friends reconnecting and new friendships being formed; a year of peace, joy and happiness; a year of over-abundance in health, in love, in laughter, and in family. I hope 2011 will be your best and brightest year yet!
"May your coming year be filled with magic and dreams and good madness. I hope you read some fine books and kiss someone who thinks you're wonderful, and don't forget to make some art - write or draw or build or sing or live as only you can. And I hope, somewhere in the next year, you surprise yourself."
. . . Neil Gaiman
It’s been almost a month and I still can’t think about her without getting emotional. If someone tells me that they’re sorry for my loss, my eyes well up with tears.
At the age of 50, I’ve become parentless. Cancer took the life of my dad 28 years ago and less than a month ago, that same cancer stole my mother from me. I’d like to say that it crept in like a thief in the night but that’s not the case. Instead, right in front of our very eyes, it slowly and boldly ravaged her body. Piece by piece, it took her away from her family and her friends.
Amazingly enough, I’ve actually had some people say to me, “At least you knew it was going to happen, you were prepared.” I’m here to tell you that nothing prepares you. Nothing. Just because you know it’s going to happen, that the cancer will eventually end their life, it doesn’t make it any easier and it doesn’t make the pain any less.
When my dad passed away, I was young, just barely 22. And while his death saddened me, I knew that I still had my mom. My mom - the woman who chose me - who cared for me, nurtured me and loved me unconditionally...despite my many faults.
When I got the call, I literally raced to Oklahoma, praying that I’d get there in time. My girlfriend Mary told me on the phone as I was driving, “She’ll wait for you.” I literally drove like a bat out of hell. I found out later that my friends and family placed bets on how fast I would drive that day. (for those of you who were wondering, 80-85 all the way.) Weird truth - I didn’t see a single state patrol in Nebraska but saw quite a few in Kansas and Oklahoma. Not a single one of them stopped me. It was like they didn’t even see me as I went flying past them. I truly believe I had angel wings helping me get to my mom that day.
When I got to hospice and my mom realized I was there, she took my hand in hers, looked at me and said, “There’s that beautiful smile that I love so much.” My mom and I spent some time alone together on Sunday chatting about various things and her last words to me were, “Take care of your sister. I love you so very much.”
The pain of losing my mother is profound. Since her death, a piece of me is missing and my heart sometimes feels as if it will never heal. More than once I’ve caught myself picking up my cell phone to call her - to ask her a question, to tell her something about one of her grandkids or to share the progress of Lynsay and Cody’s wedding plans. Or, just to say hi and tell her that I was thinking about her. I miss her.
I wasn’t ready and I wasn’t prepared.
Last Sunday, KJ and I flew back to Cali from Omaha. It was a 6am flight, which meant we were at the airport before 5am and in all honesty, my happy ass was not happy at all. The early hour could very well have been the reason I was so intolerant of other people and their blatant inconsiderateness. Okay, that and the fact that there was so much Texas orange around the airport, I felt as if I had suddenly been transported to Texas. *shudders*
We eventually began to board our flight and I was immediately aware of the other passengers. Once on board and in our seats, I became even more aware. I couldn’t decide if they were simply ‘airplane etiqutte ignorant’ or just blatantly rude and inconsiderate of others. By the end of the day, I had decided that some of them were a lot of both.
Why have I never noticed this before? Maybe I have and at the time, I just shook my head at them and thought, “Bless their hearts.” Or, maybe I was so engrossed in the Bloody Mary that I was sipping at the time and I was in a mellow ‘I really don’t care’ attitude.
On the flight from Omaha to Denver, I mentioned to KJ that I was going to write a book on airplane etiquette. Like I said, I was fully aware of the other passengers, quietly watching them. And this time, instead of shaking my head, I was making notes to myself.
This is what I’ve come up with so far. I’m sure I’ll have more to add.
A Simple Etiquette Guideline:
1. While waiting in the terminal to board your flight, please remember that some airlines board by seating group. Also, take a quick glance at your ticket to see what Seating Group you are in. If you are in Seating Group 3, this means that you board the airplane when they announce that Seating Group 3 is now allowed to board the plane. This does not mean that you try boarding the airplane when they call for Seating Group 1 or Seating Group 2. It also does not mean that Seating Group 3 is the new code for First Class. Instead of crowding the aisles and getting in the way of those who are really supposed to be boarding, keep your happy ass planted firmly in your seat. You'll find that you have a few more minutes to finish that cup of coffee. This rule is simple enough for a 6 year old to understand. Here’s a tip - close your eyes and pretend that you’re a kindergartener. Then, listen to the instructions.
2. Ladies, when they tell you that you’re allowed 2 carry on bags AND your purse, this does not mean that you can carry on your purse (which is usually the size of a small suitcase), your briefcase, your tote bag, AND your suitcase. That, my dear, equals 4 carry-ons.
3. If, for some reason, you’re wearing a backpack, take the damn thing off before boarding the airplane. If you hit me one more time while standing next to my seat trying to find space in the overhead bin, I’m likely to rip that backpack right off your shoulders. Trust me, the flight attendants will thank me.
4. Ladies, if you can’t lift that big ass carry-on that you're wheeling behind you to place it in the overhead bin, check the damn thing. You have no business carrying a bag onto the plane that weighs more than you do.
5. To the passenger sitting next to me: It’s quite rude of you to be an armrest hog. Not only did you dominate both armrests, you had your legs spread wide apart to where I, (who was sitting in the middle) had to sit with my arms and legs pressed close together. It’s uncomfortable as it is to be seated in the middle, but you only made it worse by being an inconsiderate jerk.
6. To the passenger in front of me: Seriously, do you really need to position your chair as far back as it will possibly go? We’re already crammed in like sardines. We all know that unless you’re flying 1st class or Business Class, Coach seating is not as luxurious. I really don’t need my seat tray resting in my lap or my knees jammed up to my chest just because you can’t be a little more considerate of your fellow passengers.
7. Guys, remember that your voice carries, even from 6 rows up or 6 rows back. I don’t want to hear about the fight you and your wife had before you left. I don’t want to hear how you were so tanked up the night before that you and the toilet became close and intimate friends. And I certainly don’t want to hear about your latest sexual conquest.
8. People, when the flight attendant announces tthat it’s time to shut off ALL electronic devices, that’s exactly what she means. This does not mean that you can continue to send text messages and emails on your Blackberry as we’re taxiing down the runway. Again, listen to your instructions. Turn the damn thing off. Trust me when I say that she’s not giving these instructions just to hear herself talk.
9. I understand we all get colds. Do me a favor - when coughing and sneezing, instead of turning your head in my direction, cover your mouth. If I get sick, I promise that I will haunt you in your sleep.
10. Upon landing, when exiting the airplane, please remember that the common and unspoken rule is that you exit the airplane much like you do in church. By row...starting at the front and ending at the back. This does not mean that you rush up from the back of the airplane and block the rows of those who are trying to exit the way they’re supposed to.
Common sense and common courtesy. Follow these simple etiquette guidelines and you too, can be smarter than a 5th grader.
Thank you and happy flying.
