There is chronological time and there is the absence of time. There is time that you spend watching the clock, waiting or wanting; and then there are moments where time stands still and becomes a part of you. Chronos and Kairos are Greek words for opposing worlds of time. Chronos, in my opinion, is time at its worst. Clocks, blackberries, deadlines, calendars, planners, and appointments are all products of chronos. Kairos, conversely, is time at its best. Making love, watching my children sleep, observing the colors in the sky as the sun rises and sets, sitting on a beach watching my children play in the ocean, writing this blog outside on a gorgeous, summer morning are all my personal examples of kairos.
Sarah Ban Breathnach writes in Simple Abundance (one of my absolute favorite books) "We exist in Chronos. We long for Kairos. That's our duality. Chronos requires speed so that it won't be wasted. Kairos requires space so that it might be savored. We do in Chronos. In Kairos we're allowed to be."
For weeks 3 words have been swirling in my head. Kairos, cancer, and love. I felt a calling to write about each but didn't know how to connect or seperate them. I decided to pray about this and suddenly found myself crying (God's way of saying "That's It!"). He helped me realize that these 3 words -kairos, cancer, love- were all one in the same. Each one is about time at its best.
You may be thinking, "but cancer"? Time at its best????? Yes. Because the moment you don't know where your life is going.......... is the moment your life's journey begins. If you have been reading my blog, you will notice that I have written on occasion about cancer. Not in the medicinal way, but more as a wake up call.
I have been blessed to know many amazing people in my life. Unfortunately, some of these amazing people have been diagnosed with cancer. In my short, 40 years of life (yes, I admit, I am no longer in my 30's) I have lost 2 friends with melanoma (skin cancer), an Aunt to lung cancer, my grandfather to stomach cancer, and just a few short months ago my mother-in-law to multiple myeloma (bone marrow cancer). I have a good friend and an Aunt who beat breast cancer, another good friend who won over ovarian cancer, an uncle who tackled prostate cancer, and an Aunt who is currently fighting lung cancer. I have prayed and cried and sometimes become quite angry upon hearing the news that someone I love has cancer. It is shocking and it invokes fear and questions.... no matter how many times or how many people I know go through it.
A few short days ago, I learned that my Mom has been diagnosed with breast cancer. I have no words to describe how this feels. I guess, the best word is raw. No matter how many times, no matter how many people, no matter how close the friend or family member, .............. there are NO comparisons to hearing the news that the woman who gave you life, the woman you love, the woman who has loved you unconditionally through thick and thin (and I don't mean waist sizes) has cancer.
Love. It is a living, breathing gift that comes in many shapes, strengths, and sizes. A mother's love is the strongest of all. I had no idea I could love anyone as much as I love my children. It was with this knowledge that I finally understood how much my own Mother loves me.
My husband's love has been a tremendous gift to me. He is my best friend, my soul mate, my beacon of light in the darkest of days. He gives me strength when I am weak and comfort when I am worn. It is the kind of love I dreamed about as a little girl. I believe in love, and I believe in the sanctity of marriage. Someone recently told me that he believed my blog was "a platform to promote divorce". Let me say for the record: Yes, I am divorced. No, I don't recommend it. Divorce is a very personal and difficult decision. No one should ever be judged for being loved. No one should ever be judged for being divorced.
Wes and I just celebrated our 2nd wedding anniversary in Annapolis last week. While there, I noticed a boat named Kairos, and it was in that moment that I realized something powerful: my life before Wes was chronos; my life with Wes is all kairos. We have been blessed with a second chance for a lifetime love.
When Wes's Mom, Mary, passed away, I remarked to Wes's Dad, Dick, that the only good thing I can say about cancer is that it gives you time. It gives you time (another chance) to do the things, you may have put off. It gives you time to say the things, you haven't said. It gives you time to appreciate kairos (time spent being and savoring) and acknowledge chronos (time spent mindlessly doing and existing).
Dick and Mary were the perfect example of what love and marriage should look like. I have never seen 2 people more in love and beautiful in all of my life. Dick was to retire in May 2004. Mary was diagnosed in April 2004. She passed away in January 2007. Their dream had been to travel as soon as Dick retired. And, despite her dialysis 3 times a week, they managed to fit in quite a bit of traveling and being and savoring during those 32 months.
Life cannot be defined; it can only be refined. It is a series of evolution. I don't know who I am yet to be. God does. I have to trust Him to keep me on the right path. All that I do know is that I am the potential of myself. I will keep myself open to the hills and valleys that will continue to bless my life. I am not in control. I don't know the master plan. I do own my life and will take responsibility for my choices. I can choose to view life with a clear lens or choose to be it's "victim". The victim mentality is a plague.
I just finished the Wall Street Journal best seller, Fish, by Stephen Lundin. He says "There is something I know about you that you may not even know about yourself. You have within you more resources of energy than ever been tapped, more talent than has ever been exploited, more to give than you have ever given, and more strength than has ever been tested."
We are each products of life's experiences: the good, the bad, and the ugly. Kairos, cancer, and love. The strongest power in life is to experience emotion. By experiencing emotion, your connection to life (to God) are the moments that create expansion and allow you to grow. These pivotal moments in life can make or break you. Don't let them break you. Let them help to refine you.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Sunday, July 29, 2007
my first marathon
I have run 3 marathons in my life. My first was in October of 2000. Pre 9/11, pre-divorce, post giving birth to 3 children in 4 years. I just found a paper copy of what I wrote about that experience and have decided to bring it into the digital age and blog about it.
(written 10/26/2000)
As a young girl I always wondered what it would be like to run a marathon. This year after deciding I wasn't getting younger and I wasn't pregnant for a change, I decided to find out. The following is my story of that journey.
October 20.
Arrive in Baltimore solo. Go to airport to pick up my Mom. Can't find her. I am waiting outside "arrivals". She is waiting outside "baggage". Finally after reaching other via cell phone, we unite. Drive on to hotel. Get lost. My Mom and I argue. She says East is the same thing as North. I say she is crazy. I pull off the road and let her drive. Arrive at hotel and pass out on the bed for several hours.
October 21.
Mom's birthday. Go to packet pick-up and registration. There is a huge expo with a lot of clothes and running equipment. Mom finds the cutest shirt for my children..... on the front "One day I will run like my Mom!" She buys 3. Continue shopping at the Tyson's Corner shopping mall. Ate at one of my favorite places, California Pizza Kitchen. Meet up with my brother, Rich. Back at the hotel we prepare ourselves for the next morning. Rich irons his T-shirt (something I don't really understand), my Mom gets a shower and does her hair (folks, this is the night before), and I draw all over my tank top so that I can get some moral support as I run (Go PSU).
October 22.
Sleeping was a challenge with my brother snoring and knowing that my Mom was worried sick about me. Plus, when I did doze off, I had marathon dreams...... I couldn't find the start of the race; I was lost; no one else was there to run, etc. Around 5am we got up, got dressed (my brother put on his nicely ironed T-shirt), and made it the Marine Monument by 7:30am. Was to meet up with my neighbor Larry (an ex-marine) but couldn't find him. Saw a lot of babies who I thought looked really hungry (bad time to start weaning Nick - 2 days without nursing - Ouch!). Stood in a long, long, long line to go to the bathroom (did I mention how long it was?) and got in the porta-potty just as the morning prayer began over the sound system outside.
The Start of the Race.
There was a sea of people. With over 25,000 runners and 5 times that many spectators, my dream became a reality. I couldn't find the damb starting line! I saw a sign with 6:00 on it so I assumed that this was the starting place for the 6 minute mile people. Thinking this was a good place to be I waited and waited until Rich screamed from the side "These are the 6 HOUR people". I reached the starting line 22 minutes after the official start. This turned out to be a good thing because I was able to fly by people and maintain an 8 minute mile pace over the first few miles.
Miles 1-13.
Enjoyed the gorgeous day and all of the spectators cheering. Drank water at every water stop which was every even mile and sucked on my banana flavored GU (a "delicious" packet of replenishement). Met my Mom and Rich at mile 6 and they slipped me some Gatorade. Georgetown was fun. People on top of cars and hanging out windows playing "Born to Run" by Bruce Springsteen and somewhere along the way I heard the theme song from Rocky. Was to see Rich at mile 10 for more Gatorade but missed him. Apparently he was on the opposite side of the street screaming my name but I never heard him. Enjoyed a couple of marines running with large back packs screaming "Who let the dogs out?" periodically to the following barks of runners. They weaved in and out of orange cones and got cars to beep by saying "Honk if your horny!".
Miles 13 - 23.
Lost track of the marine runners. I would love to know if they finished with the same enthusiasm. The water did its thing and wanted out. I refused to stand in the porta-potty line again so I snuck behind several lovely bushes instead. Bagels were given out at some point as well as Tootsie Rolls. Rich and Mom found me and treated me to half a Twix bar and Gatorade. I reached the halfway point at 2 hours and 8 minutes and felt confident I was going to make it. Struck up a conversation with a young girl who jumped in to do 10 miles with her friends but lost them at a water stop. It is difficult to describe the enormous amount of runners. I was NEVER alone and CONSTANTLY dodging people the entire race. This was good and bad.
Mile 23.
Crossing this never ending bridge, with people dropping like flies, no water to be found and the sun beating down relentlessly is my vivid memory of mile 23. My spirit began to wane and I began to understand "the wall". My knee hurt, my back ached, and I just wanted it to be over.
Mile 24.
As I approached the water stop I heard someone say "Jellybeans!". Sure enough the marine dudes were dispensing cups of jelly beans to all of the runners. Those jellybeans definitely helped.
Mile 25.
I knew there were only 2 miles to go - but that was STILL 2 MORE MILES!. My knee was starting to really hurt. I stopped and started to walk. Shortly thereafter, an angel appeared. It was a young man who tapped me on the shoulder and simply said "Come on. Let's go."...... and I was off and running once again.
Mile 26.
As I saw this mile marker I can't describe how I felt. Joy. Elation. Relief. I felt like I could cry but didn't want to use that much energy. The crowds were unbelievable at this point. My Mom and Rich said they were aftraid to blink - afraid they would miss me. My Mom said she did cry when she saw me. I didn't see them or hear their screams. I just wanted to see that finish line.
.2
If you ever decide to do a marathon, don't forget this little number. Psychologically, I was ready for 26 miles thinking .2 would be a breeze. Let me say this......... that was the longest 385 yards of my life! It was uphill around a turn that never ended with people screaming in your face "It's almost over!". When I finally did see the finish line I picked up my pace and crossed the line, hands in the air.
Post Race.
All I wanted was to find my family. I was handed a medal, water, bananas, yougurt and a blanket. I fought my way through hundreds and hundreds of people and after about 30 minutes of searching I found them and was embraced in a hug I will never forget. It ranked up there with the hug the 3 of us shared when Rich came off his ship after the Persian Gulf War. My only regret of this entire event was that Rich couldn't run with me. We had planned to do it to gether but he blew out his knee
The Drive Home.
After showering and saying good-byes, I embarked on the final leg of my journey - the drive home. Rich drove my Mom back to the airport before going back to his home outside of Baltimore. I followed them until we approached Baltimore. I don't think I could have mentally found my way out of the city without his assistance. I couldn't even do it before I ran a marathon. As I drove home, I got more and more homesick. I just wanted to get home and hug my 3 beautiful children. They called to check on me and fighting back tears I said I was fine but I was really tired. They persuaded me to stop and get a nice meal for energy. Not wanting to even think about carbohydrates, I chose instead a big juicy steak from the Outback. I stumbled into the restaurant the best I could. After sitting for 2 and a half hours, stiffness and pain - comparable to giving birth - greeted me as I got out of the car. Ibuprofen and a lot of Ice Tea (no more water or Gatorade, thank you) and a great meal brought me back to life.
Home.
I arrived to find bouquets of flowers from my friends and family. The house was clean and my children even made me a cake. I heard everyone in the basement so I hobbled quietly down the steps to surprise them. I was then attacked with the best hugs a Mother can only dream about. Mariel wanted to know if I won and ifI brought back any treats for her. Jack wanted to know if I saw the cake and the flowers that he picked. Nick just wanted "breasty milk" and practically knocked me over to get it. He immediately fell asleep in my arms.
Gratitude.
I will always remember the journey it took to achieve my goal. Training throughout the summer was a challenge. With 3 children under the age of 5, finding time to do anything other than cook, clean , and referee is a challenge in itself. I am proud that I have accomplished a lifetime goal, but I couldn't have done it without my family and friends. Their support and encouragement motivated me beyond words. I can honestly say that in the months prior to this race there was not a day that went by that somebody didn't ask, "Hey, when is that marathon?", "I saw you running in the rain the other day - why?", or just "Good luck!".
Motivating and Inspirational Tidbits
I saw many people throughout those 4 hours and 31 minutes. Here are a few that still stand out in my mind:
-A lady my age and her GRANDMOTHER running together.
-The guy on crutches who was determined to finish.
-The couple who were married the day before and the bride wearing her veil as she ran.
-My waiter at the Outback who proudly told me his mother runs the Pittsburgh and New York marathon every year......... at age 63!
-My Mom and Rich scouring the crowd trying to find me after the race. I saw them before they saw me. The looks of nervousness and anticipation on their faces is etched in my memory as well as the looks of relief as I ran into their arms.
And on the T-shirts of several runners I read the following:
- Needed Material for the Christmas Letter
- I can do 26.2
- Whoever said running a marathon is a mind game, never ran a marathon.
- Though Him I can do anything.
- Me + God = 26.2
- In loving memory..... and the photo of the cutest child in the world
(written 10/26/2000)
As a young girl I always wondered what it would be like to run a marathon. This year after deciding I wasn't getting younger and I wasn't pregnant for a change, I decided to find out. The following is my story of that journey.
October 20.
Arrive in Baltimore solo. Go to airport to pick up my Mom. Can't find her. I am waiting outside "arrivals". She is waiting outside "baggage". Finally after reaching other via cell phone, we unite. Drive on to hotel. Get lost. My Mom and I argue. She says East is the same thing as North. I say she is crazy. I pull off the road and let her drive. Arrive at hotel and pass out on the bed for several hours.
October 21.
Mom's birthday. Go to packet pick-up and registration. There is a huge expo with a lot of clothes and running equipment. Mom finds the cutest shirt for my children..... on the front "One day I will run like my Mom!" She buys 3. Continue shopping at the Tyson's Corner shopping mall. Ate at one of my favorite places, California Pizza Kitchen. Meet up with my brother, Rich. Back at the hotel we prepare ourselves for the next morning. Rich irons his T-shirt (something I don't really understand), my Mom gets a shower and does her hair (folks, this is the night before), and I draw all over my tank top so that I can get some moral support as I run (Go PSU).
October 22.
Sleeping was a challenge with my brother snoring and knowing that my Mom was worried sick about me. Plus, when I did doze off, I had marathon dreams...... I couldn't find the start of the race; I was lost; no one else was there to run, etc. Around 5am we got up, got dressed (my brother put on his nicely ironed T-shirt), and made it the Marine Monument by 7:30am. Was to meet up with my neighbor Larry (an ex-marine) but couldn't find him. Saw a lot of babies who I thought looked really hungry (bad time to start weaning Nick - 2 days without nursing - Ouch!). Stood in a long, long, long line to go to the bathroom (did I mention how long it was?) and got in the porta-potty just as the morning prayer began over the sound system outside.
The Start of the Race.
There was a sea of people. With over 25,000 runners and 5 times that many spectators, my dream became a reality. I couldn't find the damb starting line! I saw a sign with 6:00 on it so I assumed that this was the starting place for the 6 minute mile people. Thinking this was a good place to be I waited and waited until Rich screamed from the side "These are the 6 HOUR people". I reached the starting line 22 minutes after the official start. This turned out to be a good thing because I was able to fly by people and maintain an 8 minute mile pace over the first few miles.
Miles 1-13.
Enjoyed the gorgeous day and all of the spectators cheering. Drank water at every water stop which was every even mile and sucked on my banana flavored GU (a "delicious" packet of replenishement). Met my Mom and Rich at mile 6 and they slipped me some Gatorade. Georgetown was fun. People on top of cars and hanging out windows playing "Born to Run" by Bruce Springsteen and somewhere along the way I heard the theme song from Rocky. Was to see Rich at mile 10 for more Gatorade but missed him. Apparently he was on the opposite side of the street screaming my name but I never heard him. Enjoyed a couple of marines running with large back packs screaming "Who let the dogs out?" periodically to the following barks of runners. They weaved in and out of orange cones and got cars to beep by saying "Honk if your horny!".
Miles 13 - 23.
Lost track of the marine runners. I would love to know if they finished with the same enthusiasm. The water did its thing and wanted out. I refused to stand in the porta-potty line again so I snuck behind several lovely bushes instead. Bagels were given out at some point as well as Tootsie Rolls. Rich and Mom found me and treated me to half a Twix bar and Gatorade. I reached the halfway point at 2 hours and 8 minutes and felt confident I was going to make it. Struck up a conversation with a young girl who jumped in to do 10 miles with her friends but lost them at a water stop. It is difficult to describe the enormous amount of runners. I was NEVER alone and CONSTANTLY dodging people the entire race. This was good and bad.
Mile 23.
Crossing this never ending bridge, with people dropping like flies, no water to be found and the sun beating down relentlessly is my vivid memory of mile 23. My spirit began to wane and I began to understand "the wall". My knee hurt, my back ached, and I just wanted it to be over.
Mile 24.
As I approached the water stop I heard someone say "Jellybeans!". Sure enough the marine dudes were dispensing cups of jelly beans to all of the runners. Those jellybeans definitely helped.
Mile 25.
I knew there were only 2 miles to go - but that was STILL 2 MORE MILES!. My knee was starting to really hurt. I stopped and started to walk. Shortly thereafter, an angel appeared. It was a young man who tapped me on the shoulder and simply said "Come on. Let's go."...... and I was off and running once again.
Mile 26.
As I saw this mile marker I can't describe how I felt. Joy. Elation. Relief. I felt like I could cry but didn't want to use that much energy. The crowds were unbelievable at this point. My Mom and Rich said they were aftraid to blink - afraid they would miss me. My Mom said she did cry when she saw me. I didn't see them or hear their screams. I just wanted to see that finish line.
.2
If you ever decide to do a marathon, don't forget this little number. Psychologically, I was ready for 26 miles thinking .2 would be a breeze. Let me say this......... that was the longest 385 yards of my life! It was uphill around a turn that never ended with people screaming in your face "It's almost over!". When I finally did see the finish line I picked up my pace and crossed the line, hands in the air.
Post Race.
All I wanted was to find my family. I was handed a medal, water, bananas, yougurt and a blanket. I fought my way through hundreds and hundreds of people and after about 30 minutes of searching I found them and was embraced in a hug I will never forget. It ranked up there with the hug the 3 of us shared when Rich came off his ship after the Persian Gulf War. My only regret of this entire event was that Rich couldn't run with me. We had planned to do it to gether but he blew out his knee
The Drive Home.
After showering and saying good-byes, I embarked on the final leg of my journey - the drive home. Rich drove my Mom back to the airport before going back to his home outside of Baltimore. I followed them until we approached Baltimore. I don't think I could have mentally found my way out of the city without his assistance. I couldn't even do it before I ran a marathon. As I drove home, I got more and more homesick. I just wanted to get home and hug my 3 beautiful children. They called to check on me and fighting back tears I said I was fine but I was really tired. They persuaded me to stop and get a nice meal for energy. Not wanting to even think about carbohydrates, I chose instead a big juicy steak from the Outback. I stumbled into the restaurant the best I could. After sitting for 2 and a half hours, stiffness and pain - comparable to giving birth - greeted me as I got out of the car. Ibuprofen and a lot of Ice Tea (no more water or Gatorade, thank you) and a great meal brought me back to life.
Home.
I arrived to find bouquets of flowers from my friends and family. The house was clean and my children even made me a cake. I heard everyone in the basement so I hobbled quietly down the steps to surprise them. I was then attacked with the best hugs a Mother can only dream about. Mariel wanted to know if I won and ifI brought back any treats for her. Jack wanted to know if I saw the cake and the flowers that he picked. Nick just wanted "breasty milk" and practically knocked me over to get it. He immediately fell asleep in my arms.
Gratitude.
I will always remember the journey it took to achieve my goal. Training throughout the summer was a challenge. With 3 children under the age of 5, finding time to do anything other than cook, clean , and referee is a challenge in itself. I am proud that I have accomplished a lifetime goal, but I couldn't have done it without my family and friends. Their support and encouragement motivated me beyond words. I can honestly say that in the months prior to this race there was not a day that went by that somebody didn't ask, "Hey, when is that marathon?", "I saw you running in the rain the other day - why?", or just "Good luck!".
Motivating and Inspirational Tidbits
I saw many people throughout those 4 hours and 31 minutes. Here are a few that still stand out in my mind:
-A lady my age and her GRANDMOTHER running together.
-The guy on crutches who was determined to finish.
-The couple who were married the day before and the bride wearing her veil as she ran.
-My waiter at the Outback who proudly told me his mother runs the Pittsburgh and New York marathon every year......... at age 63!
-My Mom and Rich scouring the crowd trying to find me after the race. I saw them before they saw me. The looks of nervousness and anticipation on their faces is etched in my memory as well as the looks of relief as I ran into their arms.
And on the T-shirts of several runners I read the following:
- Needed Material for the Christmas Letter
- I can do 26.2
- Whoever said running a marathon is a mind game, never ran a marathon.
- Though Him I can do anything.
- Me + God = 26.2
- In loving memory..... and the photo of the cutest child in the world
I can't believe I wrote this 7 years ago! There were several things I chose not to write about at that time. Like how incredibly unsupportive my (ex) husband was during my training. He would purposely sabotage scheduled runs. He would tell me I was stupid for even trying to do it. And, he refused to bring our children to the watch the race.
I ran this same race, the Marine Corp Marathon, right after I got re-married. Wes not only supported my decision to do another marathon, but he even helped me train. He would ride his bike along side me while I ran. He also drove me, my Mom, and my children to D.C. and was right there at the finish line to congratulate me. If you would like to read my recount of that day, it is posted on my website at http://michelledimidio.com/bymichelle01.htm.
Friday, July 13, 2007
favorite things.....
Right now, I am drinking my coffee and enjoying the brilliant sunshine filling my office. In a few minutes (or as soon as I stop writing) I will go for a run. Later this morning, one of my dearest friends is coming in to town to spend the afternoon with me. Life is good.
GOOD coffee, bright sunshine, running, friends...... these are only a few of my favorite things.
Here a few more:
1. chocolate (any kind)
2. the weight of my husband's hand draped over me as I sleep
3. being serenaded with "mommmmYYYYY!!" as Nick opens his eyes each morning
4. laughing with my friends, laughing with my children, laughing out loud anytime
5. debating with my husband; our hot topic lately.....the book "The Secret" (he thinks it's "dangerous"...... don't even get me started)
6. new running socks
7. GOOD wine shared with friends
8. music, songs, playlists, new artists, lyrics, my ipod..... all of it, very powerful tools for me
9. lillies (I saw beautiful white lillies when I was running on the golf course yesterday)
10. reading (books, magazines (yea, I read People, I admit it), cards, comments from this blog)
Another one of my favorite things is a clean house (which mine is not at the moment) and did I mention my friend was coming today??? I told her I wasn't going to clean for her and I won't, BUT I have to at least clear a path.
I have many more favorite things I would like to write about and I will, but for now......
I gotta run! :-)
GOOD coffee, bright sunshine, running, friends...... these are only a few of my favorite things.
Here a few more:
1. chocolate (any kind)
2. the weight of my husband's hand draped over me as I sleep
3. being serenaded with "mommmmYYYYY!!" as Nick opens his eyes each morning
4. laughing with my friends, laughing with my children, laughing out loud anytime
5. debating with my husband; our hot topic lately.....the book "The Secret" (he thinks it's "dangerous"...... don't even get me started)
6. new running socks
7. GOOD wine shared with friends
8. music, songs, playlists, new artists, lyrics, my ipod..... all of it, very powerful tools for me
9. lillies (I saw beautiful white lillies when I was running on the golf course yesterday)
10. reading (books, magazines (yea, I read People, I admit it), cards, comments from this blog)
Another one of my favorite things is a clean house (which mine is not at the moment) and did I mention my friend was coming today??? I told her I wasn't going to clean for her and I won't, BUT I have to at least clear a path.
I have many more favorite things I would like to write about and I will, but for now......
I gotta run! :-)
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Strength
My children and I were invited to go boating in Lake Raystown last weekend. It was a gorgeous day. We were singing, eating, tubing, and laughing. Mariel, my daughter, and I were in the front; my friend was in the middle steering the boat; and Nick and Jack, my 2 sons, were in the back. As we were exiting a wake area and just starting to pick up speed, a sudden wind came through and lifted up the tube (and its rope) crashing the tube into the water.
I didn't see any of that. I only heard Jack scream. What I did see was my baby boy, Nick (okay, he's 8 but STILL my baby) being pulled overboard with the tubing rope. The rope had wrapped around Nick's leg and drug him to the back of the boat. This is when I summoned that super human strength all Mother's possess. You know what I mean, that power that comes out of no where, to do something you never knew you could do, to save your child. I made it from the back of the boat to the front of the boat in a single leap just in time to grab Nick's ankles and pull him back into the boat and onto me.
I assessed the damage. No broken bones, nothing protruding, only a really nasty rope burn across the back of his knee (and spilled homemade meatballs all over the floor of the boat; apparently my flight to get Nick produced this gourmet casualty). I was holding Nick as he cried that "I really am hurt" cry as opposed to the "I need attention" cry. Mariel was helping to gather ice and bandages. And my friend was picking up her delicious, but ruined, meatballs. This is when I saw Jack and this is why I am writing this blog today.
Jack was sitting alone stunned and in shock. I yelled to my friend to hug him. She did. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, dropped his head on her shoulder, and started to cry that "I can't believe what I just saw" kind of cry. Nick looks over and witnesses something very rare: Jack crying. Immediately, and I mean that very moment, Nick stops crying. He finds the strength to stifle his own pain, reach his little hand over toward his big brother, and say "I'm okay Jacky. I'm okay". Jack lifts his head to listen, reaches out his arm, latches onto Nick's hand, and cries a little bit harder. Mariel, my friend, and I were frozen and speechless in a timeless moment that I am sure will remain in our thoughts forever.
Just writing about this, brings back all of the emotions I felt that day. As extremely horrible as that freak accident happened to be, watching my children find strength in each other's arms, empowers me and warms my heart. I remarked to my friend later as we were boating back to shore that nobody can say my children aren't tight. They share a bond that is hermetically sealed. So much so, that I am curious how my boys will react to Mariel having a boyfriend. THAT will be interesting.
I am not saying my children don't fight. I am not in any stretch of the imagination trying to say that my children are perfect. I do want to acknowledge that tough circumstances breed tougher individuals. And, I believe, that their journey through the divorce and its subsequent struggles is molding them to be resilient and strong, beautiful human beings.
In my first blog I wrote about getting "cancer". This incident on the boat reassures me that even though my children haven't lived the fairytale "Leave it to Beaver" type childhood (it's been a bit more like "cancer"), they get "it". And, I am soooooooooooo very proud of them. I gain strength from their strength.
Expressing my inner most thoughts and discussing my personal life is a daunting task for me. I like to write, but question the content and my ability A LOT. As I logged on this morning, I was very, very surprised to read one of the comments in my blog. It touched me deeply and gave me the courage and confidence (and strength) to write again. It was from Jack.
Jack DiMidio said...
I didn't know you could write like that! I don't think I could ever write that well for my life! I think you should write a lot more about your self, but otherwise, it was awesome!!!!!
July 11, 2007 10:03:00 PM EDT
I didn't see any of that. I only heard Jack scream. What I did see was my baby boy, Nick (okay, he's 8 but STILL my baby) being pulled overboard with the tubing rope. The rope had wrapped around Nick's leg and drug him to the back of the boat. This is when I summoned that super human strength all Mother's possess. You know what I mean, that power that comes out of no where, to do something you never knew you could do, to save your child. I made it from the back of the boat to the front of the boat in a single leap just in time to grab Nick's ankles and pull him back into the boat and onto me.
I assessed the damage. No broken bones, nothing protruding, only a really nasty rope burn across the back of his knee (and spilled homemade meatballs all over the floor of the boat; apparently my flight to get Nick produced this gourmet casualty). I was holding Nick as he cried that "I really am hurt" cry as opposed to the "I need attention" cry. Mariel was helping to gather ice and bandages. And my friend was picking up her delicious, but ruined, meatballs. This is when I saw Jack and this is why I am writing this blog today.
Jack was sitting alone stunned and in shock. I yelled to my friend to hug him. She did. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, dropped his head on her shoulder, and started to cry that "I can't believe what I just saw" kind of cry. Nick looks over and witnesses something very rare: Jack crying. Immediately, and I mean that very moment, Nick stops crying. He finds the strength to stifle his own pain, reach his little hand over toward his big brother, and say "I'm okay Jacky. I'm okay". Jack lifts his head to listen, reaches out his arm, latches onto Nick's hand, and cries a little bit harder. Mariel, my friend, and I were frozen and speechless in a timeless moment that I am sure will remain in our thoughts forever.
Just writing about this, brings back all of the emotions I felt that day. As extremely horrible as that freak accident happened to be, watching my children find strength in each other's arms, empowers me and warms my heart. I remarked to my friend later as we were boating back to shore that nobody can say my children aren't tight. They share a bond that is hermetically sealed. So much so, that I am curious how my boys will react to Mariel having a boyfriend. THAT will be interesting.
I am not saying my children don't fight. I am not in any stretch of the imagination trying to say that my children are perfect. I do want to acknowledge that tough circumstances breed tougher individuals. And, I believe, that their journey through the divorce and its subsequent struggles is molding them to be resilient and strong, beautiful human beings.
In my first blog I wrote about getting "cancer". This incident on the boat reassures me that even though my children haven't lived the fairytale "Leave it to Beaver" type childhood (it's been a bit more like "cancer"), they get "it". And, I am soooooooooooo very proud of them. I gain strength from their strength.
Expressing my inner most thoughts and discussing my personal life is a daunting task for me. I like to write, but question the content and my ability A LOT. As I logged on this morning, I was very, very surprised to read one of the comments in my blog. It touched me deeply and gave me the courage and confidence (and strength) to write again. It was from Jack.
Jack DiMidio said...
I didn't know you could write like that! I don't think I could ever write that well for my life! I think you should write a lot more about your self, but otherwise, it was awesome!!!!!
July 11, 2007 10:03:00 PM EDT
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Running. This is what I do. I run my children all over the place, I run my clients into the ground (this, of course, is an exaggeration), I run to the market and the mall, I run my own business, I run around the golf course to keep my mind sane and my body in shape, I run into my children's arms when they arrive home, I run away with my husband on his business trips for fun. I run.
I really don't like to sit still. For me, riding in a car for any length of time is torturous, sitting in a movie theater or watching television seems like a waste of time, even sitting here writing this blog is frustrating, and sitting on a hard pew bench at church - please! Needless to say, I prefer to fly, I miss a lot of great movies and talked about television shows, I have waited until today to start blogging (I had planned to start this last year!), and I haven't been to church as often as I would like to admit.
I just finished reading a FABULOUS book by Elizabeth Gilbert titled Eat, Pray, and Love. She uses one word to describe cities and herself. For example, Rome = Sex, the Vatican = Power, Manhattan = Achieve, Liz Gilbert = Antevasin (you have to read the book). I think my word may be "Runner".
When I was going through my divorce, I loved to listen to REO Speedwagon's song "Time For Me to Fly" (Yes, I was born in the 60's but, I AM STILL IN MY 30'S, for at least 23 more days and I am going to repeat that phrase for the next 23 days to anyone who will listen). In case you didn't party in the 80's or have no clue who is REO Speedwagon, I will help supply the lyrics.
I really don't like to sit still. For me, riding in a car for any length of time is torturous, sitting in a movie theater or watching television seems like a waste of time, even sitting here writing this blog is frustrating, and sitting on a hard pew bench at church - please! Needless to say, I prefer to fly, I miss a lot of great movies and talked about television shows, I have waited until today to start blogging (I had planned to start this last year!), and I haven't been to church as often as I would like to admit.
I just finished reading a FABULOUS book by Elizabeth Gilbert titled Eat, Pray, and Love. She uses one word to describe cities and herself. For example, Rome = Sex, the Vatican = Power, Manhattan = Achieve, Liz Gilbert = Antevasin (you have to read the book). I think my word may be "Runner".
When I was going through my divorce, I loved to listen to REO Speedwagon's song "Time For Me to Fly" (Yes, I was born in the 60's but, I AM STILL IN MY 30'S, for at least 23 more days and I am going to repeat that phrase for the next 23 days to anyone who will listen). In case you didn't party in the 80's or have no clue who is REO Speedwagon, I will help supply the lyrics.
I 've been around for you
I've been up and down for you
But I just can't get any relief
I've swallowed my pride for you
I've lived and lied for you
But you still make me feel like a thief
You got me stealin' your love away
Cause you never give it
Peeling the years away
And we can't relive it
I make you laugh
And you make me cry
I believe it's time for me to fly
You said we'd work it out
You said that you had no doubt
That deep down we were really in love
Oh, but I'm tired of holding on
To a feeling I know is gone
I do believe that I've had enough
I 've had enough of the falseness
Of a worn out relation
Enough of the jealousy
and the in toleration
I make you laugh
And you make me cry
I believe it's time for me to fly
I've got to set myself free
Time for me to fly
And that's how it's got to be
I know it hurts to say goodbye
But it's time for me to fly.
This little ditty says ALOT about that period of time in my life. I made a decision to move away from a poisonous relationship that I couldn't fix (I really, really thought that I could) and fly. Making that decision was the most difficult, most monumental, most empowering task I have ever completed. That in-between place, the place where you are left to choose, that place where you struggle to decide....... to leap into a life that is unknown and scary and full of bills to pay or to dig your feet in the sand, hoping to make the best of a life that is volatile and scary but can pay the bills......... not a fun place to be.
If you happen to be in a similar place, please have hope. I promise you, once your final decision is made, the agony subsides and light shines in places that were previously dark and gray. This is what happened when I chose to fly. New doors opened for me and my children that I never could have imagined existed.
Soooooo, maybe my word should be "Fly Girl". I'm not sure. My life has soared to new heights of happiness, I do fly (the conventional way in a 747) fairly often, and I can fly across any dance floor. Hmmm, wait, maybe "Dancer" should be the word. I do love Lee Ann Womack's song "I Hope You Dance" because she sings about living life to the fullest and that is exactly what I try to do everyday. I don't want to leave this earth with regret or longing . I truly try to live in the moment and am acutely grateful for all of life's blessings.
I was running the other day (there is that word again) and happened to meet a dear friend of mine. She was walking so I stopped and walked with her. We walked and talked about our busy lives, our children, and people that just don't get "it". These are people who are so self-consumed that they miss out on the big picture. My friend is the strongest, most resilient, most positive, most beautiful person I have ever had the pleasure to know. In the past year and a half she has battled (and beat!) ovarian cancer only to be slammed with a slew of other medical maladies. Yet, I have never seen her without a smile on her face. She gets it. So I say to her "Maybe some people need to get cancer. Not maliciously or medically. Just put where they are forced to step back and realize how lucky they really are." She agreed.
My cancer was my divorce. It gave me perspective. It changed the lens on my view of the world and of my life. I don't know what word best describes me. All I know is this, I love my life, my children, my family and friends, my career. I love to run, I love to fly and I love to dance.
I was running the other day and this song played and stopped me in my tracks. It's Rascal Flats "When The Sand Runs Out". It sums up (much more poetically than this blog) how I feel and what I want to convey.
I spent the morning at an old friend's grave
Flowers and Amazing Grace, he was a good man
He spent his whole life spinnin' his wheels
Never knowin' how the real thing feels
He never took a chance or took the time to dance
And I stood there thinking as I said goodbye
Today is the first day of the rest of my life
I'm gonna stop lookin back and start movin on
And learn how to face my fears
Love with all of my heart, make my mark
I wanna leave something here
Go out on a ledge, without any net
That's what I'm gonna be about
Yeah, I wanna be runnin'
When the sand runs out
Cause people do it everyday
Promise themselves they're gonna change
I've been there, but I'm changin' from the inside out
That was then this is now
I'm a brand new man, yeah, I'm a brand new man
And when they carve my stone they'll write these words
"Here lies a man who lived life for all that it's worth
I'm gonna stop lookin back and start movin on
Learn how to face my fears
Love with all of my heart, make my mark
I wanna leave something here
Go out on a ledge, without any net
That's what I'm gonna be about
Yeah, I want to be runnin
When the sand runs out.
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