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‘heart of the matter’ Category

  1. A Song About Blue Skies

    January 21, 2012 by Blondette

    Today I attended a high school show choir competition. My cousin, Lizzy, was competing with her team/squad/group (crap, what are they called? A gaggle? A herd?)

    This is also how I came to cry at an inappropriate place and time. Yes, I started crying right there in the front row…during show choir. No amount of glitter and glitz could keep my eyes from leaking. Nuh, uh.

    In my defense, the song was about a new day and a new start. Something about blue skies. IT WAS RELEVANT TO MY LIFE. (Damn teenagers!)  I’d left my job of 6 years, I’d started working with a personal trainer, my mom died, and I got a new job. All in less than 60 days. But I guess it’s not the first time teenagers have made adults cry and it certainly won’t be the last.

    I’ve worried that people don’t think I’m emotional enough and perhaps I’m not grieving hard enough. I assure you, as soon as this becomes real to me, it will be hard. I was less than composed when Bob called me. First, there was the disbelief. Surely, this was a joke. I waited for it to be a joke. It was not. My body was first to accept that there was no impending punchline. It quickly said “Legs say crumble on kitchen floor…rest of body say shake like shake weight, eyes say leak a lot, heart say pound, lungs say “can we get some air in here?” vocal chords slow can only say one word now…no.” Eventually, my brain kicked in and I was able to compose myself. You’ve seen some of the first thoughts I had that night and those that followed that week.

    But after those first 24 hours I’ve felt some sort of bubble. I don’t feel like my mom is gone. I sort of see her in front of me to my left. And I feel her. She is the bubble. She’s not gone. On my way to the competition today I asked her not to leave me yet. For a moment, it felt as if she had.  But I can still hear her voice in my head “Hi Hunny…I love you! I’m proud of you every day of my life.” I can still see her slightly crooked smile. And her hands…I can see her hands. And her poor, sparce eyebrows that she over-plucked when she was younger and which never grew back.

    It’s quite hard to be sad when you feel so much love. Unless a group of glittery teenagers sings to you. Then you better watch your back.

     

    Category heart of the matter, humor | Tags: , | 1 Comment

  2. Eileen’s Song

    January 18, 2012 by Blondette

    Below is the eulogy I delivered at my mom’s funeral today, January 18th, 2012. This is not the full text of exactly what I said because I added a few things while I was talking, but this is most of it. 

    My mom almost named me Sara. Sara Leas. It would have been a lot of pressure to be a much better baker. Instead, she named me after her grandmother, Catherine and called me Katie.

    I was her second child. My brother, Brian, was born 2 years earlier, with dark hair, and without webbed feet. I used to think my brother was my mom’s favorite, but I eventually realized that it wasn’t about favorites. He was her first baby – he made her a mother. And being a mother was something she cherished deeply.

    Growing up, she read to us. She hugged us. She let us drink pop, but not eat sugary cereal.

    How do you pay tribute in 2-4 minutes to the person who nourished, nursed, and nurtured you?

    On Friday night, when the news was fresh, I immediately thought of the things we would never do together, things mothers cherish about having a daughter: we would never pick out my wedding gown, she would never see a grand child, she would never feel the kick of my baby inside of me. I would never be able to ask “did you feel this/think this/feel this when you were pregnant with me?”

    And then I tried to remember everything about her. Every little morsel that was her.

    She loved music. She was disappointed that she never got to meet John Denver.

    My mom was smart. She believed in education and she was a good teacher.

    She was witty. God knows my affinity for puns came from somewhere and it was not from my dad.

    She was a little naughty and sassy. You can see it even some of her childhood photos.

    She was faithful. She believed in God.

    She adored Bob.

    She often ate a bag of popcorn or a giant plate of broccoli for dinner – with Butter Flavored Pam and salt when she was a staff nurse working 12 hour shifts (which were more like 13 for her because she was so conscientious)

    In some of my last conversations with my mom she spoke of her hopes for her children (she did this often). She was excited that I’d been thinking about moving back to the heart of the city because it meant we’d be closer, and she spoke about her love for her husband, Bob, and his love for her.

    I know her body – the body that hugged me when I was sad or scared, the body that worked long hours to keep a roof over our heads, the body that swelled and broke with life to bring my brother and me into this world, the body that housed a most tender and loving spirit and heart – her body, my mom’s body, has stopped.

    But, she will never leave me.

    She is every breath I’ve ever taken. Every tear I’ve ever cried (even those, okay especially those – cried at sappy Hallmark commercials.) She is every off-key note I’ve ever sung (and there are lots) and every kindness and love I’ve ever shown.

    Last year, I was struggling at work and I knew I needed a change. Though I was terrified I knew I could make it through because my mom loved me.

    Even though she did not work outside the home in her last years she still had an occupation. She had 3 in fact. Her first was that of Eileen, lover of knowledge and the written word. Her second was wife and love to Bob. And her third was mother.

    Her love will never leave.

    Category heart of the matter, Life Lessons, writing | Tags: ,, | 7 Comments

  3. Dear Friday January 13th 2012

    January 13, 2012 by Blondette

    Today, you took my mother from me. She was 56.

    She will never help me pick out my wedding dress.

    She will never step foot on Irish soil.

    She wanted to go to Mandy Patinkin.

    I didn’t hug her on Tuesday because I was sweaty from the gym. She lent me a clean, dry shirt. It is in my laundry room. It’s orange with stripes.

    She sent me a text message that I had yet to answer. So I called her today. But she did not answer. When Bob called to tell me, I thought it was her.

    I am sitting with my cat. I pulled my bible from the shelf.

    I am watching/listening to Catholic (Christian) funeral songs on YouTube. I am crying.

    Today you took my mother.

    Keep her safe.

    Category heart of the matter | Tags: | 2 Comments

  4. Itchy

    December 3, 2011 by Blondette

    Something has been bugging me all day.

    I almost cried.

    So here’s what happened. A few weeks ago I went to my friend’s Celebrating Home party. You know the type, there’s a catalog and a bunch of women and food and drink. I wasn’t very excited to attend because I shouldn’t be spending money and I knew I’d feel obligated to do so. But I went because it was important to my friend. Well, part of the party involved a game that basically locked you into having your own party unless you were one of the 10% who didn’t get the “host a party” message in your gift box. I could have given the box back but I HAD TO KNOW WHAT IT CONTAINED! Stupid curiosity.

    So, I booked a party.

    I don’t host a lot of guests. I like having people over, but I’m awful with timing and people never seem to want to come to my house. (Probably because I have 3 cats and live way up north – I get it.) When I emailed out the invites I didn’t get a lot of “yes” results, but I got a few. So, I pressed on with preparation because by that point, I was kind of looking forward to having people over. I spent an entire day and the following morning cleaning my house. (Because I have pets I wanted to make sure I was really diligent in the scrubbing so 1) it wouldn’t be super obvious that I have pets 2) people would feel relaxed at ease).)

    Maybe I picked a bad day and time. Just because 11am on a Saturday is good for me doesn’t mean it is for others. Unless it’s something they want to do like watch a football game.

    I sat with my super clean house, food cooking, and drinks and cups ready to go. My house smelled lovely and warm and my Christmas decorations twinkled. I hovered and perched with my eyes darting toward the open front door. 11:04, eh, it’s raining and that’s margin of error. 11:11, eh. 11:15..hmm. 11:20, I, I, I don’t think anyone is coming. 11:30, I guess I have to call it.

    No one came. (except my friend the designer)

    Only one person  out of 4 who said yes contacted me to tell me they weren’t going to show up.

    What happened to people that they aren’t considerate enough to let someone know that they aren’t going to come to the party they RSVP’d for, the party someone spent HOURS cleaning for, and  the party spent mucho dinero to buy supplies for? Do people not think about the work, time, and money that goes into having people over? Maybe I would have preferred doing something else with my Saturday morning too.  I could have canceled the party. It would have felt better. I missed my class at the gym because people said they were coming. My friend was happy because her enthusiasm had waned and she no longer wanted to do the party, but I couldn’t even verbalize my disappointment to her. Did she not stop to think how it must have felt to have worked so hard and had no one show up? It’s like being stood up on a date. But I didn’t say anything and that’s on me.

    I felt like an idiot. Not only were my feelings hurt, but I started to doubt myself. If someone didn’t want to come, why didn’t they just come out and be honest about it? And if they decided to flake day of? Why not email, text, call, or Facebook to say “sorry, I can’t come.”

    I spent a lot of the day trying to brush away my feelings of anger, shame, and disappointment. “Come on Katie, it’s silly to care. It’s silly to feel hurt about this.” Only, it’s not because it’s how I feel. And people SHOULD feel bad. (except the person who did text me)

    I tried to spin it into positive and keep my chin up. My house is super clean and that’s awesome. I have plenty of booze and booze supplies for holiday gatherings. I didn’t have to have awkward moments where people didn’t want to buy stuff.

    Maybe what bothered me most was that I wouldn’t treat anyone that way. So why did they think it was okay to treat me that way? And why do I feel bad that I might make them feel bad for making me feel bad? And all I really still feel is “God, I suck at life.” I don’t suck at life, but I sure seem to suck at social life. Events like this make me want to say “Fuck people.” Only, I can’t. I won’t. I’ll still smile and be upbeat and be kind and generous. Even when it hurts. I just wish people cared.

     

    Category heart of the matter, rants | Tags: ,,,, | 8 Comments

  5. Today’s Question

    November 27, 2011 by Blondette

    There’s a man in my neighborhood who runs with his arms locked at his sides. Somewhere beyond 50 years old, lean, and meticulous, he half runs. I see him and I think “hey, there’s that guy again.” Everything I’ve read about proper running form says he’s doing it wrong. Arms are meant to be soft, loose, and at a 90 degree angle. They should swing and pump. Instead, this man seems to be doing everything in his power to keep his arms clicked firmly down in an unnatural manner. Why would he fight such a natural movement?

    At what point do you stop calculating and just do?

    As adults we are expected to manage households, hold down jobs (and exceed expectations!), please and care for others in our lives (and exceed expectations!), eat mindfully, eat healthfully, exercise, rest, sleep right, don’t drink too much, don’t be a spoiled sport, don’t take life too seriously, don’t be fat, don’t be too skinny, save your money, travel and be worldly, and love.

    It becomes overwhelming to find the balance. The messages are everywhere in our media, our conversations, and our looks. How do we know when what we are doing is enough? When we are enough.

    Is running with your arms clenched and immobile better than not running at all?

     

     

    Category heart of the matter | Tags: ,, | 1 Comment

  6. Mah Bucket!

    October 24, 2011 by Blondette

    This is a list of things I would like to do before I can no longer:

    • move of my own volition
    • see more than shapes and blurs
    • “hold it”

    My list! Part 1.

    1. Partially inspired by the comments about being able to see the aurora borealis as far south as Arkansas – which is, for the record, south of where I live so I should totally be able to see something:  Live in or vacation in Alaska for an extended period of time. It seems like it’s for the hardy soul hence needing to be able to “hold it” and move of my own volition. It’s also supposed to be breathtaking and nature-tastic. Sounds like fun.
    2. I got tweeted by a celebrity (one who was THE WEST WING!) and that made me giddy. I’d like to get tweeted by more famous people. The Bloggess is now following me on Twitter (woo!) but maybe she just follows people who tweet her a bunch at once or auto-follows? I’m holding out hope that I will say or do something worthy of her interest.
    3. Have my picture taken professionally frolicking in meadows, parks, and industrial settings. Why should I wait until I have a wedding, get engaged, or have a baby? I am really good at frolicking.

    Category heart of the matter | Tags: | 1 Comment

  7. Find the Quote from Meet Me in St. Louis

    September 19, 2011 by Blondette

    I was surprised today when I saw it had been 3 months since I’d last posted. As I told someone today, sometimes I have nothing to say  because there is too much to say. I had a counselor who once told me “the time is going to pass anyway.” Time, tide, and trolley wait for no one. At the top of stairs (at what point did I get old enough to have creaks, stiffness, and pain when I first walk down the stairs in the morning?) I was struck with the realization that I’m no longer in my 20′s. I’m older and I’m going to keep getting older until my life is over. Which could happen at any moment. My time is running out.

    And that is the theme of my year. Actually, it started last year. Time is running out. I do believe I mourned lost opportunity. It made me withdrawn, angry, and resentful. I was depressed.

    Tonight as I watched the season premiere of How I Met Your Mother, Ted, our main character (the one who met your mother) tells Robin (a good friend and former girlfriend) that he has lost hope. I’ve that way many times over the past 2 years.

    This isn’t even what I was going to write about. I wanted to write about how nice it was to have my dad in town and at my house this year.  By-the-way, my house now stinks because I put expired chicken in the trash last night. I forgot to toss it last week on trash day, and I didn’t want to miss another week. Unfortunately, that means I’m dealing with the smell.

    My brother installed a new sink for me. That was very exciting. I never knew I could love a sink so much. I even got to do a little plumbing!

    I’m currently in the process of culling the herds of books, clothes, and other stuff that occupies too much space in my house. There will be cleaning!

    You may remember that I locked myself out one morning during a lull in a rainy morning. I had no choice but to knock on the neighbor’s door – the neighbor I’d never met. I was braless and unshowered. By some miracle I remembered Tammi’s phone number and she was able to come over and let me in. (always give your best friend a key to your house.)

     

     

     

    Category blah blah, heart of the matter | Tags: | No Comments

  8. I Am Still Here

    May 14, 2011 by Blondette

    A week ago I thought about what I should write. And mainly it was because I haven’t written for so long. As I walked through Target on a Thursday night I thought, “how odd to eat dinner at the Target.” I was picking up antibiotics for my latest sinus infection and I looked over and saw a small family eating dinner at the food court area near the carts. The lone employee looked bored and downtrodden. Eating at the Target makes the meal less special to me. When I eat, I like to focus.

    By Saturday, I was thinking about the impending Mother’s Day deadline for which I was not prepared. I’d been sick since Tuesday of that week and all of my energy went to making it through work and breathing while propped up on my couch or in bed. I had an appointment with the dietitian and the exercise psychologist on Wednesday morning – I smiled and nodded and took notes even through all I wanted to do was drive straight home and crawl into my bed.

    I was anxious and excited for my latest weight, body fat, and fat free mass reading. It was my third and this time it was not “that week” where I was retaining water and I’d been eating so well and exercising – my home scale told me I was down 10 pounds in a little less than 2 months. I weighed in at 235 lbs – the scale at the doctor’s office was telling me the same thing my home scale said – YOU DID IT.  I thought I would be joyful but I was sort of depressed thinking about how 2 months is drop in the bucket compared to how much longer I have on my journey to getting rid of my excess weight and reaching my goal of being athletic and fit with a butt like the crossfit trainer who operates her gym at our office building. Seriously, this woman has the kind of body I would love – she’s lean, muscled, and shapely. But best of all – she’s strong and powerful. How could you not feel like you could take on anything in the world with a body like that? I don’t really want to do crossfit, but I would not mind finding out how to get a butt like hers. I’ve always had a sort of flat bottom. I know I probably won’t ever have an apple bottom, but there’s room for some improvement in my derriere.

    Saturday was also the day I was supposed to run my first 5k. The weekend before I did a practice run around my neighborhood, mixing running and walking for 50 minutes up and down the sidewalks.  It as raining when I woke up and took my medicine – and then crawled on the couch and stayed there until late afternoon. I missed the 5k, but I wasn’t even going to get a t-shirt and everyone knows the t-shirt is one of the best parts. It’s a badge of honor. A beacon of pride. A “hey, look at me. I’m one of them fit peoples.” I really wanted the bragging rights.

    This week when I hopped on the scale for my weekly check, I was up 2 pounds. The body is a pretty crazy and amazing thing. Even through I was sick, I was still tracking my food everyday and eating healthy. Unfortunately, I was not able to exercise. There is no way I ingested an extra 7000 calories over my BMR in order to gain weight. So how was I suddenly 2 pounds heavier?

    The rest of the week I tried not to think about my weigh in. I tried to focus on making good choices even though I was frustrated. I realized that this is what it’s going to be like for the next 2 years or so. I am going to get sick and not be able to work out. I am going to retain water one week out of the month. Sometimes, things will not go as planned. But I am still here.

    Category heart of the matter | Tags: , | 1 Comment

  9. Sanctuary

    February 6, 2011 by Blondette

    Wednesday night I sat in my favorite spot on the couch. After a good workout and a delicious dinner, I cracked open both of my blogs and let the world know what was on my mind.

    My spot is flattened from hours of sitting and laying. I have three pillows that I stack to support my back and head. When I couldn’t sleep upstairs in my bedroom early Saturday morning, I chose my spot hoping it would work its magic. What I didn’t expect was to look up and see a bullet hole in my wall…and another one in my window.

    Sometime Friday night while I was out, or while I was sleeping upstairs, someone fired a gun and the bullet came through my living room window, sliced through the air above my favorite spot on the couch, tore through the wall behind my couch, and broke through a bookcase on the other side of the wall.

    Had I not gone out on Friday night, I might have been in that spot, my favorite spot. Had I been there, I would have been shot in the head or chest.

    While I feel incredibly lucky that I deviated from my routine – most Friday nights I am in that spot – I can no longer sit in my living room without fear.

    Yes, this was probably an isolated incident. Yes, it was probably not directed at me. But that doesn’t matter. I’m only here by a matter of chance.

    Category heart of the matter | Tags: | 1 Comment

  10. It’s in the Way She Moves

    January 6, 2011 by Blondette

    Sometimes I stare at my ceiling and absorb the geometry of the beams as they cut from wall to wall. My living room and kitchen are open to each other so when I painted, I made sure the colors had a subtle flow. If you look close enough at the beams (right, soffit [sic] is probably the more accurate term here) you will notice that they are one shade darker than the living room walls – and that they match the kitchen. I believe the color is called “Gentle Fawn.” Sadly, a number of gentle fawns find themselves staring at the sky after being hit by a car ’round these parts.

    A lot of thought went into choosing the perfect colors for my home. I wanted to create the right atmosphere – warm, inviting, and snuggley – part library, part bistro. Before now I’d never really thought about whether the paint actually looked like “warm caramel” or a gentle “fawn.” That is, until I found myself contemplating my ceiling.

    When I can’t find a way to express myself, release my emotions, I often drift to the observing my surroundings. Am I looking for something to comfort me? Something to distract me? Something to re-focus and calm me? I don’t know. A few years ago I discovered a large mistake I’d made at work. Unfortunately, the mistake cost the company a large sum of money and there was no immediate way to recoup the loss. After immediately bringing it to the attention of my boss and having a “wtf are we going to do dinner” I found myself lying on my couch (man that is a good couch – it now resides in my basement because I just can’t bear to get rid of it) staring at the ceiling – numb. Not sure if I was absorbing or reflecting emotion.

    Geometry was never my favorite subject, but I’ve always loved the look of a clear, crisp line. Sometimes, I really wish life was a little more like geometry.

    Category heart of the matter | Tags: , | No Comments

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