Welcome to my small corner of the internet where I share the latest headlines of my life. Thank you for stopping by and I hope you’ll come back soon! –– Jody
All tagged love
Well, not writing about my dad’s recent passing hasn’t made the grieving process any easier, so let’s give this a try. It’s been quite a few months. I had already been struggling to keep up with my creative goals, when on June 6, I got the call no one ever wants to get. Even though Dad had been weakened by the completion of his lung cancer treatments, we all expected a full recovery (doctors and himself included). So when he passed away in his sleep
I never saw the movie "Sliding Doors" starring Gwyneth Paltrow, but I understand the premise of the plot line one that explores the outcomes of her life had one event happened differently. While I try not to overthink things, especially hypotheticals about life, this idea of one subtle change impacting the entire trajectory of one's life lingers in my imagination. Like pulling the lever in a pinball machine, one switch can send the ball on a whole different path.
The romantic hopeful in me believes that the Universe would have brought my husband, Drew, and I, together no matter what. But the realistic pragmatist in me says, ummm, yeah right. Considering the fact that we lived 3,000 miles apart from each other, are 13 years different in age, and (at the time) had very few reasons for our paths to cross, the fact that we actually did meet tells me I should give our romantic selves a big'ole high five.
The year was 2004. I was living in South Carolina at the time with one of my best girlfriends, Robyn. She was in college there and I was working at the local newspaper.
There are many first memories I have with my sister. A majority of them are from when I was five years old or younger. They are snippets of experiences that, looking back, I now realize represent the foundation of our relationship. The times I'd fall asleep with her reading me books in our parents' bed. When we play hide and seek and she'd always let me find her first. How she would reassure me when I got scared. In short, the overarching theme of our relationship then, and now, has been care. Leigh has always taken care of me, cared for me, in a sisterly-maternal way that is instinctual. It is a quality that makes her career as a childcare worker a natural fit. And made her a far better big sister than I am sure I ever deserved.
Leigh was four years old when I came along. Since my parents didn't have more children after me, I don't know what having a younger sibling is like. What did she think when I came onto the scene? To be honest I have never asked her that specific question. Maybe I should. I guess growing up I always assumed she was happy to have a baby sis. But my adult-self thinks that is probably not the case. I wouldn't blame her for feeling that way. Kids have so little control over their lives, and I'm sure my parents didn't consult her on their family planning desires. I was this new little creature that was now taking her mommy and daddy's attention away from her and onto me. It is a sibling story as common and old as time.
Remembering mom and thinking about her a lot today. She sure did give me the best of her. Here are some of the ways:
I love a lot of ice in my drinks. Mom loved a lot of ice in her drinks.
Mom was definitely not a morning person. I am definitely not a morning person.
We both found nostalgic humor in every repeat episode of Fraiser, Home Improvement, King Of Queens and Seinfeld, no matter how many times we saw them. We were each open to new things. I got her into Who Wants to be a Millionaire, she got me into Lifetime Movie Marathons about the Kennedy's.
I haven't been writing for a few weeks. My hiatus is much thanks to our wonderfully adorable and crazy cute Golden Retriever puppy. He came home to live with us on Nov. 16. We named him Alton, inspired by one of our favorite celebrity chefs, Alton Brown. On Saturday it will be three weeks since he came to live with us. Some moments it feels like just three days. Some moments it feels like three months. But no matter what joy or challenge we are faced with in each new experience with him, we wouldn't change anything about him, or the experience of being dog owners again, for anything in the world.
This is the story of how my first golden retriever puppy came into my life. Sixteen years ago today those big brown eyes came into my world and it hasn’t been the same since.
The story begins in the winter of 1991. Mom and I already had Mikey, one family furball that was “mysteriously” dropped on our doorstep a couple of years earlier. She swore NO MORE DOGS! But she couldn’t say no to temporarily housing Baby, my sister’s beagle mut mix. My sister told us she had gotten Baby spade. So when mom and I asked my sister to housesit for us when we went to Minnesota for a Christmas vacation, we didn’t have any reason to worry about Baby getting out.
So yes, today is Mother's Day. And I'm wishing it was over. My mom passed away three years ago so she isn't here for me to call, hug or send flowers to. I have a lot of wonderful mothers in my life, and I do appreciate them, I really do. A part of me really feels like I should call my step-mom and wish her happy Mother's Day, but I just don't feel like it. I didn't feel this way last year, and I probably won't feel this way next year. But this year, yep, I'm abstaining from passing out some heartfelt Mother's Day love. Because yep, my heart just isn't in it. It's broken, missing my mom. And the cool thing is, that gives me comfort, because I know in my heart, my mom would understand.
Do you know what I wish someone would have told me about marriage? I wish they would have said that marriage is not just a journey, but rather, it is an evolution. It is an evolution of individuality and oneness all at the same time. It is all so fun when you first meet and fall in love. Life seems boundless with possibilities, and time seems like an eternity of bliss. Everything is so blissful on your "love cloud." And even though you know (because "they" tell you) that it won't last forever, you don't believe them. Blinded by love and enraptured with a palpable passion, life is filled with an emotion that you won't believe can't last forever.
I am not sure how one measures success in terms of a wedding, but if success means you wouldn’t go back and change a thing, then our wedding was a total success. As The Hubs likes to put it, all of our hard work really paid off. I think planning a wedding is a test of the union that is to become. Along the way there are expectations that have to be discussed, compromises to be made, trust to be given, and an element of surrender released with the hope that everything will happen the way it’s supposed to.
