~ Hello December

~ An English Rose

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.

~ This Is Your Life

~ Airplane Etiquette

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.

~ Dear Life

Dear Life,

I woke up last Wednesday morning and thought to myself, "Today, I'm 50 years old, how in the hell did I get so old? Where did the years go?" I felt my face for new wrinkles. I wiggled my fingers and toes to make sure I could still move around with no problem, I tried to check my cell phone without my glasses and discovered that the Birthday Fairy did not grant one of my wishes. *sighs* So, I got out of bed and attempted to see if I was still flexible by trying to bend over and touch my toes. The Birthday Fairy is now 0 for 2. Little does she know that she’s slowly working her way to the top of my shit list. I made my way to the bathroom to examine my face in the mirror. No new wrinkles, no new laugh lines and my boobs are still where they’re supposed to be and not hanging down to my knees. Two points for the Birthday Fairy.

I tell myself over and over again that age is just a number. Admittedly, I silently chuckled to myself the week before when KJ turned 50 and he acted as if the world had ended and his life had come to a grinding, screeching halt. I found myself wondering how turning 50 has the power to freak people out and have them hiding under the covers and shutting themselves away from the outside world until the day is long over and the sun has risen the next morning.

For myself, and yes, I was a bit on the unhappy side about turning 50, I think it's because I lost my dad to cancer a month after he turned 53. I was barely 22 and at the time I thought that 53 was old and he had lived a long time. My mom became a widow at the age of 50. I couldn’t imagine becoming a widow at 50; KJ and I still have so much life to enjoy. I certainly have a new perspective on the year my dad passed away and left my mom a widow at such a young age. Anyway, when this happens to your parents, as you approach that age, your imagination has the ability to run wild. And mine did. A teeny bit.

It’s now been a week since I turned half a century old (and putting it that way, well yeah, that's pretty damn old!) and I realize that I still have a lot of years left in me. I don’t feel 50. I certainly hope that I don’t look 50.

I do, however, realize just how young my dad really was when he died. I often think of all the events that have transpired since his death - the wonderful things that cancer stole from him and from us - the joy of knowing his 7 grandchildren & watching them grow up, high school graduations, college graduations, future weddings and future great-grandchildren . . .

I've been told that 50 is the new 30 and that, my friends, puts a big cheesy smile on my face, but only because I’m remembering my 30's. Okay, so maybe I’m remembering my 20’s, too. Makes me wonder if I can still do certain things the way I could when I was in my 30's. hmmm......

But for now, I think I’ll go have a glass of wine and celebrate my birthday... again and when KJ gets home, I’ll have a bit of a dance and a bit of a welcome home kiss and remind him that even at 50, we can still do those things we did at the age of 30.

Hell, who am I kidding? I’ll be sound asleep on the couch when he walks in the door.

~ In Memory . . .

On Monday, August 30th, my son and his friends lost one of their best friends . . .

Mark was killed in Afghanistan when an improvised roadside device was detonated. He was 24 years old and had his entire life ahead of him. He enlisted in the Army National Guard in 2004, graduated from college in 2008 with a degree in Criminal Justice and went into active duty shortly after graduation. He had only been in Afghanistan for a month. He was a son, a brother, a grandson, a nephew.

Tomorrow this shining star will be laid to rest while my son and so many others watch and pay their respects. His absence will leave a void in the lives and hearts of many, but I know his memory will live on.

Mark Noszika - Oct 1985-Aug 2010

Although he is gone, he will not be forgotten.

~ A Moment of Silence

Take a moment and remember . . . .