Ears please...
I find myself thinking about different things every few years or so. For example, 5 years ago i often thought about what my choice of drink would be for the coming weekend. Did i feel like going crazy and dancing or would i find myself at a local chilled bar behaving myself. These were my thoughts five days out of the week along with a few others. Lately i find myself thinking about space, aliens, life after death, life itself, what its going to be like when our new president takes over and finally, what i'll be drinking this weekend should i make the journey out of my apt and into a bar. There is one topic however that i often speak about with my lady friends. I've talked about it for years now and i'd like to bring it up right now. Would love to know your thoughts...
Let me just state i did not create me. I did not make me a female. I did not ask for this. While i'm happy to be one there are certain things that seriously bug me. The obvious monthly cramps being one of them but thats neither here nor there. It comes down to this...if none of us asked to be here and men dont have our issues...then why do we have to pay for our own monthly products? Seriously think about it....
I can't think of anything that men have to purchase and we don't. Everything they buy we need too. Razors, shaving cream, soap, lotion, shampoo, rogaine, deodorant...i mean you name it and we are equal one way or the other. But men do not have to spend their money on tampons...right? So then why should we? I truly believe our Government should give all females a monthly stipend covering all costs of our monthly hell. Including whatever pain reliever works best for you. That stuff is expensive! In fact, i think i'm owed $20 per month for the past 16 years. Do the math...thats almost $4 grand! And thats just covering the basics. Ladies, you know what i mean. I'd like a man to challenge me on this. They would lose every time. I am seriously considering writing a letter to someone who will listen, any suggestions? Oprah where are you when i need you!
Am i completely out of line with feeling this way? Is this an absurd idea? If all men are created equal then why OH WHY do we suffer so much more? I'm not even going to get started on childbirth. Thats a blog for a whole 'nother day!
love to all my lady friends-boys-pay up,
<3 A
Monday, December 8, 2008
Friday, November 28, 2008
Memories of January
I have pretty much done nothing today. Got out of bed and resumed the same position on the couch for a few hours. Nothing good was even on tv. Yesterday was a House marathon. Why couldn't have it been today? Who had time to watch their favorite show all day??? I was too busy preparing my house for the fam to come over. I think we had a pretty good time. Aside from my dad who fell asleep on my couch at around 8pm we all stayed up and played games the rest of the night. Well, unfortunately one of my brothers was ill so he stayed home and in bed the entire day. While my other brother was loud enough for the both of them. He found himself losing every game so eventually he just decided he'd hit me everytime i beat him. I developed a twitch from flinching so much...it was hilarious.
So today has just been a very lazy day. I did get some laundry done but thats about it. I did a lot of thinking today. Ever try to imagine your future but can never exactly see yourself doing the things you dream about? I often have this problem. Ever since i can remember i have always been one to live in my future. I don't really think its a good thing but its just how i've always been. Someone once said i was a dreamer. While that might be true in some cases i dont think i am a dreamer at all when it comes to my every day life. I don't have many goals that can't be reached so i'm not exactly dreaming up the impossible. I know we should always want more for ourselves and i do want the best for me but my best comes down to only a few things...good health for those i care about & myself, live with 0 debt, an equal relationship that leads into marriage and a small family if i am lucky. These are the things that make me happy. I realized that when i was about 17/18 years old and fell in love for the first time. I was always happy but it just showed me a different way to be happy. A way that included someone else to share it with. Hard to explain unless you've had it. I think i've had a lot of luck with love. I can't say i've dated very much but the people i have shared those words with have each taught me something major.
Today i watched a movie and someone made a comment regarding first loves. They said although most people don't wind up with their first loves they never ever forget them. For some reason that first experience stays with you. Its not that you loved that person more...its just that you loved them differently. Is that how you all felt when you found love for the first time?
I have always said my first love was out of a movie. At least thats how i felt about him/it. We met by chance eleven years ago and although its probably a bit weird, i remember every single part of that night. I didn't really go out much in high school. I was always home with my family or doing something for a sport. I enjoyed my friends and never had any interest in dating. I had a little crush on my classmate senior year. I did what all girls did and gabbed about it to my friend T. She then did what the rest of us would have done and told a few more people. Eventually it got back to his girlfriend who then picked a fight with him about it. They broke up and he invited me out one night with friends. At the end of the night we kissed, i still remember how i went to get out of the car and he tugged on my coat. I never would have initiated that kiss with him. The next monday at school they were back together and i was the girl who sent him back to her. So much for dating, huh? Today, she is married and i just saw him out last month looking nothing like i imagined. We laughed about that night in the car, little did he know he sent me right into the arms of my first love. The next weekend i was so upset that same friend T invited me to a party forty five minutes away from home. Just what i needed. As soon as we got there i wanted to leave. The house was something i wasn't used to. Big & cold.The crowd was strange, drinking and doing God knows what. I sat on the couch and didnt speak. Eventually i was introduced to the person who was throwing the party. I remember thinking he seemed nice but his hair was way too long. Four months later he was my boyfriend, the big cold house became a home that i frequently visited and he became a part of my history. It is so strange thinking back to those times and thinking of who he is today and who i am. We really were just kids but i know whatever we had was so real. I dont know if a lot of people can say really great things about their first experiences but mine were perfect. No matter how i feel today nothing can take away from those amazing feelings. I am so blessed to have had them. The next time i fell in love came later and it felt completely different...imagine that?
So today has just been a very lazy day. I did get some laundry done but thats about it. I did a lot of thinking today. Ever try to imagine your future but can never exactly see yourself doing the things you dream about? I often have this problem. Ever since i can remember i have always been one to live in my future. I don't really think its a good thing but its just how i've always been. Someone once said i was a dreamer. While that might be true in some cases i dont think i am a dreamer at all when it comes to my every day life. I don't have many goals that can't be reached so i'm not exactly dreaming up the impossible. I know we should always want more for ourselves and i do want the best for me but my best comes down to only a few things...good health for those i care about & myself, live with 0 debt, an equal relationship that leads into marriage and a small family if i am lucky. These are the things that make me happy. I realized that when i was about 17/18 years old and fell in love for the first time. I was always happy but it just showed me a different way to be happy. A way that included someone else to share it with. Hard to explain unless you've had it. I think i've had a lot of luck with love. I can't say i've dated very much but the people i have shared those words with have each taught me something major.
Today i watched a movie and someone made a comment regarding first loves. They said although most people don't wind up with their first loves they never ever forget them. For some reason that first experience stays with you. Its not that you loved that person more...its just that you loved them differently. Is that how you all felt when you found love for the first time?
I have always said my first love was out of a movie. At least thats how i felt about him/it. We met by chance eleven years ago and although its probably a bit weird, i remember every single part of that night. I didn't really go out much in high school. I was always home with my family or doing something for a sport. I enjoyed my friends and never had any interest in dating. I had a little crush on my classmate senior year. I did what all girls did and gabbed about it to my friend T. She then did what the rest of us would have done and told a few more people. Eventually it got back to his girlfriend who then picked a fight with him about it. They broke up and he invited me out one night with friends. At the end of the night we kissed, i still remember how i went to get out of the car and he tugged on my coat. I never would have initiated that kiss with him. The next monday at school they were back together and i was the girl who sent him back to her. So much for dating, huh? Today, she is married and i just saw him out last month looking nothing like i imagined. We laughed about that night in the car, little did he know he sent me right into the arms of my first love. The next weekend i was so upset that same friend T invited me to a party forty five minutes away from home. Just what i needed. As soon as we got there i wanted to leave. The house was something i wasn't used to. Big & cold.The crowd was strange, drinking and doing God knows what. I sat on the couch and didnt speak. Eventually i was introduced to the person who was throwing the party. I remember thinking he seemed nice but his hair was way too long. Four months later he was my boyfriend, the big cold house became a home that i frequently visited and he became a part of my history. It is so strange thinking back to those times and thinking of who he is today and who i am. We really were just kids but i know whatever we had was so real. I dont know if a lot of people can say really great things about their first experiences but mine were perfect. No matter how i feel today nothing can take away from those amazing feelings. I am so blessed to have had them. The next time i fell in love came later and it felt completely different...imagine that?
Monday, November 24, 2008
matchbox cars and broken windows oh my....
Just wanted to share a blog for work that will be posted shortly on my job website.
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Not in a Partying mood? Bah Humbug! November 24, 2008
I think it’s safe to say, we all at one point in our lives, have heard the chit chat surrounding 'middle child syndrome'. Ramblings such as "Oh she’s so cranky, must be a middle child" or "She craves attention and is so dramatic, I bet she’s a middle child." Let's be serious, the only people spreading these absolute truths have to be those who got lucky in their birth order; the older sister, the baby brother. or my favorite, the only child (dum, dum, dum!)
You’ve probably guessed it by now, I am in fact a middle child. I not only fall after my ‘can do no wrong’ older sisters, but I am also the Jan Brady to my 'perfect' younger brothers. I am often cranky, I crave attention daily and I will gladly label myself the drama queen. I truly believe because I do fall into this category I have channeled my thoughts and feelings in other ways. I have 14 journals on a bookshelf at home that I’ve collected since the age of 12. I am no stranger to writing. I have documented years of my life with a simple pen and paper. I’ve talked about topics ranging from the Bill Clinton scandal in the 90’s, my thoughts on the color purple(the crayon not the movie) and the time I threw a matchbox car through my brothers window and happily blamed him for it. All of my writing has always been safely tucked away in a box under my bed or on a dusty bookshelf. I am excited, nervous and extremely anxious to take the journey out of my journal and onto a blog. Here goes nothing…
A proud native of Hoboken, I am blessed daily with views that bring tourists thousands of miles away from their home to see. There is nothing more beautiful then a NYC skyline, in the heart of December, luminating into the Hudson River all the way down to the George Washington Bridge. Up until last month my eyes have only seen good ole New York from lands end. That is until my ‘can do no wrong’ older sister surprised me with a ticket on The Spirit Cruise Line. It included dinner, dancing, and a three hour tour down the Hudson where we would come face to face with Ms. Liberty herself. This also meant I could play dress-up and become the center of attention among total strangers. For a middle child that sounds like a perfect evening out.
Upon entering the vessel we were shuffled off into first class and welcomed with a glass of champagne. As I took a sip I could not help but think that this was how my older sister was treated on a daily basis. I told you I could be dramatic. We immediately befriended those sitting in first class with us. I took notice right away to a 75 year old woman dancing by herself. She shined and radiated a kind of youth that no one on that ship would argue. She was the hit of the ball, just as she should be. Couples celebrating anniversaries, a sweet 16, friends out for the evening, you name it and they were on that ship. Then I saw a table of 45 people. I was trying to figure out what the occasion was. They all seemed fairly close and friendly, but I didn'tthink they were related in any way. My curiosity got the best of me as I mingled towards that side of the cabin. Making conversation with a friend, I kept my eyes on the party of five, plus 40. It wasn’t long before a few gentleman from the group were standing next to us in deep conversation. I listened intently ( I know that’s rude) but I had to know why they were there. I heard the words copy machine, fax, party and vacation days and that’s when it hit me…this must be an office party!
After partaking in a conversation with one of the employees, I got confirmation that this was in fact their holiday office party. The company decided they would have it a little early this year because the rates were cheaper. Pretty clever! It got me wondering if fewer companies would deck their corporate halls this holiday season or sacrifice their holiday parties due to the slumping economy. Last Monday we had our annual holiday meeting where we discussed ideas for our own party and thankfully the Grinch will not steal our holiday spirit here at LPR. In past years, we ventured out to restaurants and indulged in hearty meals and heavenly chocolate desserts. Last year we opted for a more personal ambience. We took the party to our bosses house which is a hop, skip, and a jumpaway from our office. Gathered together in her living room, we unwrapped our grab bag gifts, leaving a heaping pile of wrapping paper. . We stuffed our faces, listened to eighties music, and stuffed our faces some more. The atmosphere was warm and the company relaxed. It was a great way to celebrate the holidays should your boss allow. We decided this year we would do the same thing. Next week we are picking names out of a hat for secret Santa and agreed on a 20 dollar limit to ease the financial pressure a bit. We’ll decorate the office with our fantastically pink Barbie tree and hang our very creative home made stockings on our makeshift fire place. Every day a little treat will be added to each stocking, making it rather heavy to lug home come the start of our winter fiesta. The Holidays at LPR are very much something we all look forward to and we always end the year on a good note.
This year, that note will be sometime at the end of December, in my bosses living room, making a complete disaster with festive wrapping paper, a plate in one hand filled with yummy goodness and a drink in the other filled with whatever makes you happy. This year I am going to suggest a dance off. It will allow me to show off my moves in the center of the room while everyone looks on. What more could a middle child such as myself ask for.
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Not in a Partying mood? Bah Humbug! November 24, 2008
I think it’s safe to say, we all at one point in our lives, have heard the chit chat surrounding 'middle child syndrome'. Ramblings such as "Oh she’s so cranky, must be a middle child" or "She craves attention and is so dramatic, I bet she’s a middle child." Let's be serious, the only people spreading these absolute truths have to be those who got lucky in their birth order; the older sister, the baby brother. or my favorite, the only child (dum, dum, dum!)
You’ve probably guessed it by now, I am in fact a middle child. I not only fall after my ‘can do no wrong’ older sisters, but I am also the Jan Brady to my 'perfect' younger brothers. I am often cranky, I crave attention daily and I will gladly label myself the drama queen. I truly believe because I do fall into this category I have channeled my thoughts and feelings in other ways. I have 14 journals on a bookshelf at home that I’ve collected since the age of 12. I am no stranger to writing. I have documented years of my life with a simple pen and paper. I’ve talked about topics ranging from the Bill Clinton scandal in the 90’s, my thoughts on the color purple(the crayon not the movie) and the time I threw a matchbox car through my brothers window and happily blamed him for it. All of my writing has always been safely tucked away in a box under my bed or on a dusty bookshelf. I am excited, nervous and extremely anxious to take the journey out of my journal and onto a blog. Here goes nothing…
A proud native of Hoboken, I am blessed daily with views that bring tourists thousands of miles away from their home to see. There is nothing more beautiful then a NYC skyline, in the heart of December, luminating into the Hudson River all the way down to the George Washington Bridge. Up until last month my eyes have only seen good ole New York from lands end. That is until my ‘can do no wrong’ older sister surprised me with a ticket on The Spirit Cruise Line. It included dinner, dancing, and a three hour tour down the Hudson where we would come face to face with Ms. Liberty herself. This also meant I could play dress-up and become the center of attention among total strangers. For a middle child that sounds like a perfect evening out.
Upon entering the vessel we were shuffled off into first class and welcomed with a glass of champagne. As I took a sip I could not help but think that this was how my older sister was treated on a daily basis. I told you I could be dramatic. We immediately befriended those sitting in first class with us. I took notice right away to a 75 year old woman dancing by herself. She shined and radiated a kind of youth that no one on that ship would argue. She was the hit of the ball, just as she should be. Couples celebrating anniversaries, a sweet 16, friends out for the evening, you name it and they were on that ship. Then I saw a table of 45 people. I was trying to figure out what the occasion was. They all seemed fairly close and friendly, but I didn'tthink they were related in any way. My curiosity got the best of me as I mingled towards that side of the cabin. Making conversation with a friend, I kept my eyes on the party of five, plus 40. It wasn’t long before a few gentleman from the group were standing next to us in deep conversation. I listened intently ( I know that’s rude) but I had to know why they were there. I heard the words copy machine, fax, party and vacation days and that’s when it hit me…this must be an office party!
After partaking in a conversation with one of the employees, I got confirmation that this was in fact their holiday office party. The company decided they would have it a little early this year because the rates were cheaper. Pretty clever! It got me wondering if fewer companies would deck their corporate halls this holiday season or sacrifice their holiday parties due to the slumping economy. Last Monday we had our annual holiday meeting where we discussed ideas for our own party and thankfully the Grinch will not steal our holiday spirit here at LPR. In past years, we ventured out to restaurants and indulged in hearty meals and heavenly chocolate desserts. Last year we opted for a more personal ambience. We took the party to our bosses house which is a hop, skip, and a jumpaway from our office. Gathered together in her living room, we unwrapped our grab bag gifts, leaving a heaping pile of wrapping paper. . We stuffed our faces, listened to eighties music, and stuffed our faces some more. The atmosphere was warm and the company relaxed. It was a great way to celebrate the holidays should your boss allow. We decided this year we would do the same thing. Next week we are picking names out of a hat for secret Santa and agreed on a 20 dollar limit to ease the financial pressure a bit. We’ll decorate the office with our fantastically pink Barbie tree and hang our very creative home made stockings on our makeshift fire place. Every day a little treat will be added to each stocking, making it rather heavy to lug home come the start of our winter fiesta. The Holidays at LPR are very much something we all look forward to and we always end the year on a good note.
This year, that note will be sometime at the end of December, in my bosses living room, making a complete disaster with festive wrapping paper, a plate in one hand filled with yummy goodness and a drink in the other filled with whatever makes you happy. This year I am going to suggest a dance off. It will allow me to show off my moves in the center of the room while everyone looks on. What more could a middle child such as myself ask for.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
snap-crackle-pop
Imagine this-you just sit down with a nice piping hot bowl of soup, a good magazine and a carb-o-licious lump of wheat bread to fill you up. We all know soup isn't really a stomach filler...at least not this stomach. Your coworkers are all indulging in whatever they brought to lunch. A smart one, a can of progresso and my least favorite (and you'll see why) the SANDWICH (dum dum dummmmm!!) Don't misunderstand me...i love sandwiches. Salami, turkey....i am the1 out of 13 people who eat liverwurst...yeahup-i'm that girl. Whats not to love about a sandwich? right? WRONG...
It was decided upon before i was born. I would be given a father who slurped, burped, chomped, snapped, crackled and popped while eating so much as a grape. I know, you think i'm overexaggerating...making it up because i'm the 'middle child' but i kid you not...my father till this day is either deaf, has no regard to anyone around him, or in a previous life was a caveman and is still getting rid of all those kinks. At an early age i could remember sitting at the table sick to my stomach shooting him looks like no other 5 year old would even know they had. As i sit here writing this someone stands in front of my desk gnawing on a chocolate covered almond. I feel the heat rising to my head, my cheeks red, the pain....i have to think happy thoughts (patrick dempsey, money, my future unborn children) just to remain in control and not snatch the almonds out of her hand and launching them at her knee caps. deep breaths...
By now you are probably asking yourself how this could pertain to a delectable sandwich...Well...what goes along with sandwiches? pudding? no, perhaps an apple, not around here....what about a bag of baked lays? ding...doritos...ding ding...pretzels..ding ding ding! now you've got it....people-if someone can make noise eating a poor tiny swedish fish...what do you think they are going to do with their very own bag of potato chips???? potato chips = my hell!
I cringe low in my seat, push my soup away and wonder how i could tell them that they are physically enabling me to finish my lunch. I am twenty something years old (a lady reveals nothing) and 3 times a day for ten years (breakfast, lunch & 3pm snack time) my blood pressure rises and i hate the world. Sometimes i even leave the location i'am in (usually work) for a good 7 minutes because that seems to be the time frame they need to consume their bag of delish (for them) and a bag of shoot me in the foot (for me!)
I'd like to take a stand. Not the kind Sally Fields took when she stood on the table in the factory and shouted, UNION-UNION, you know what i'm talking about...a stand to all of those fellow loud chewer haters...we need to find a way to stop this insanity. We owe it to our ears and our blood pressure. I'm not sure i can take much more of this. If you are anything like me and truly can't take it anymore...email me...i'd like to start a petition. Perhaps even a class...silent chewing 101...i'd be happy to teach it at no cost. It would be giving these people a start at a new life. One that is filled with quiet cereal breakfast foods (eggs) why do people insist on eating coco puffs? I could teach them how to eat a chip without actually crunching down so hard that it splatters across their new black turtle neck...i could bring family dinners back in style where daughters don't throw forks at their fathers for treating a chicken cutlet like a piece of meat...wait what?....you get my point....I know i am not the only one out there....lets join together in this time of need and stop the loud chewers across the nation. are you with me?
Someone just popped open a bag of pretzels as their afternoon snack...i'll be back in 7 minutes...
It was decided upon before i was born. I would be given a father who slurped, burped, chomped, snapped, crackled and popped while eating so much as a grape. I know, you think i'm overexaggerating...making it up because i'm the 'middle child' but i kid you not...my father till this day is either deaf, has no regard to anyone around him, or in a previous life was a caveman and is still getting rid of all those kinks. At an early age i could remember sitting at the table sick to my stomach shooting him looks like no other 5 year old would even know they had. As i sit here writing this someone stands in front of my desk gnawing on a chocolate covered almond. I feel the heat rising to my head, my cheeks red, the pain....i have to think happy thoughts (patrick dempsey, money, my future unborn children) just to remain in control and not snatch the almonds out of her hand and launching them at her knee caps. deep breaths...
By now you are probably asking yourself how this could pertain to a delectable sandwich...Well...what goes along with sandwiches? pudding? no, perhaps an apple, not around here....what about a bag of baked lays? ding...doritos...ding ding...pretzels..ding ding ding! now you've got it....people-if someone can make noise eating a poor tiny swedish fish...what do you think they are going to do with their very own bag of potato chips???? potato chips = my hell!
I cringe low in my seat, push my soup away and wonder how i could tell them that they are physically enabling me to finish my lunch. I am twenty something years old (a lady reveals nothing) and 3 times a day for ten years (breakfast, lunch & 3pm snack time) my blood pressure rises and i hate the world. Sometimes i even leave the location i'am in (usually work) for a good 7 minutes because that seems to be the time frame they need to consume their bag of delish (for them) and a bag of shoot me in the foot (for me!)
I'd like to take a stand. Not the kind Sally Fields took when she stood on the table in the factory and shouted, UNION-UNION, you know what i'm talking about...a stand to all of those fellow loud chewer haters...we need to find a way to stop this insanity. We owe it to our ears and our blood pressure. I'm not sure i can take much more of this. If you are anything like me and truly can't take it anymore...email me...i'd like to start a petition. Perhaps even a class...silent chewing 101...i'd be happy to teach it at no cost. It would be giving these people a start at a new life. One that is filled with quiet cereal breakfast foods (eggs) why do people insist on eating coco puffs? I could teach them how to eat a chip without actually crunching down so hard that it splatters across their new black turtle neck...i could bring family dinners back in style where daughters don't throw forks at their fathers for treating a chicken cutlet like a piece of meat...wait what?....you get my point....I know i am not the only one out there....lets join together in this time of need and stop the loud chewers across the nation. are you with me?
Someone just popped open a bag of pretzels as their afternoon snack...i'll be back in 7 minutes...
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Angel in a blue dress
Last night I went to a local bar for a drink. A drink = 3 shots & 2 cocktails but i was completely sober. I always find the need to defend myself, hate that! So there i was sitting in a circle of about 8 people. We were all exchanging stories of paranormal experiences. Aside from one or two skeptics we all seemed to believe each others stories. I opted to just listen and sit the conversation out because aside from scaring myself daily i have really only had two absolute moments when i was given a glimpse into a world that one day i will be a part of. One of those goes as follows...
I couldn't tell you the exact date because i was pretty doped up on morphine and didnt even know my name. I was purposely being medicated by a staff of 4 doctors due to a surgery that took place a few days before. All of the details i am about to tell you took place on a cold day back in January, 2003 on the 14th floor of the NYU medical center.
I remember seeing a few people poking their heads around in my room. It was very foggy though, as if they were floating around and the light was annoyingly bright. I knew these people. They were family members. They would bring food for themselves and relay around me conversating for what seemed like hours. I didnt talk. I just layed there. I can't explain why because its not that I didnt want to talk to them, I just physically couldn't. All i wanted to do was lay there and sleep, dose, dream. During one of those seven days i saw something that has stayed with me even six years later and will remain with me until i am able to see them again.
For a moment i was alone in the room. I looked around as if to soak it all in. I could hear my father outside my door talking to my Godfather. My eyes were still very unclear and most things looked hazey. I was focused on one spot in the room. It was in between the doorway and the Tv that was constantly on. I dont know what pulled me in that direction but whatever it was, i am glad it chose me. Within moments i was staring into the eyes of my grandmother (who died when i was three) and my grandfather who died only a few years before. I was close to my grandfather and haven't gone a day without thinking about all of our chats over Italian pastries. It wasn't a suprise that he would make a front row appearance during one of the most important weeks in my life. He was holding a cake and my grandmother guided the other end of the cake dish. She was wearing a blue dress and he was in a tuxedo. Their outfits weren't from this time although i'd wear that blue dress in a heartbeat. They smiled at me but their smiles were the widest smiles i have ever seen. I am not sure if i smiled back at them but i could not turn away. I sucked it all in and wished this feeling wouldn't end. It seemed like a very long time but i knew it only lasted seconds. My grandfather made me feel like he was really proud of me. He didn't say anything to me but i felt as if that is what he was telling me. My grandmother shrugged her shoulders and lifted her hand as if to give me a wave while all along holding on to the other end of the cake plate. And just as quickly as they appeared they began to drift away from me. The image grew darker and darker and before i knew it they were gone. I layed there and held this moment in my mind for hours. I dont know if i was smiling on the outside but inside i was elated. I thought about their smiles the entire time i was in the hospital and during my recovery months at home. They gave me hope and everytime something hurt or i was afraid i thought of them. Today, six years later i still can see their faces smiling back at me. I know my experience was real. I know it was their way of telling me they were with me when i needed them. I had so many conversations growing up with my grandfather. All of them meant something to me but at the time they were just two people talking to each other. The conversation that meant the most to me just so happen to be the only one when not a word was spoken. I can' t wait to have another moment with them. I know they are constantly watching me and in some way guiding me to make the decisions i should be making. Thank you pop-pop & grandma!
Until we meet again...
I couldn't tell you the exact date because i was pretty doped up on morphine and didnt even know my name. I was purposely being medicated by a staff of 4 doctors due to a surgery that took place a few days before. All of the details i am about to tell you took place on a cold day back in January, 2003 on the 14th floor of the NYU medical center.
I remember seeing a few people poking their heads around in my room. It was very foggy though, as if they were floating around and the light was annoyingly bright. I knew these people. They were family members. They would bring food for themselves and relay around me conversating for what seemed like hours. I didnt talk. I just layed there. I can't explain why because its not that I didnt want to talk to them, I just physically couldn't. All i wanted to do was lay there and sleep, dose, dream. During one of those seven days i saw something that has stayed with me even six years later and will remain with me until i am able to see them again.
For a moment i was alone in the room. I looked around as if to soak it all in. I could hear my father outside my door talking to my Godfather. My eyes were still very unclear and most things looked hazey. I was focused on one spot in the room. It was in between the doorway and the Tv that was constantly on. I dont know what pulled me in that direction but whatever it was, i am glad it chose me. Within moments i was staring into the eyes of my grandmother (who died when i was three) and my grandfather who died only a few years before. I was close to my grandfather and haven't gone a day without thinking about all of our chats over Italian pastries. It wasn't a suprise that he would make a front row appearance during one of the most important weeks in my life. He was holding a cake and my grandmother guided the other end of the cake dish. She was wearing a blue dress and he was in a tuxedo. Their outfits weren't from this time although i'd wear that blue dress in a heartbeat. They smiled at me but their smiles were the widest smiles i have ever seen. I am not sure if i smiled back at them but i could not turn away. I sucked it all in and wished this feeling wouldn't end. It seemed like a very long time but i knew it only lasted seconds. My grandfather made me feel like he was really proud of me. He didn't say anything to me but i felt as if that is what he was telling me. My grandmother shrugged her shoulders and lifted her hand as if to give me a wave while all along holding on to the other end of the cake plate. And just as quickly as they appeared they began to drift away from me. The image grew darker and darker and before i knew it they were gone. I layed there and held this moment in my mind for hours. I dont know if i was smiling on the outside but inside i was elated. I thought about their smiles the entire time i was in the hospital and during my recovery months at home. They gave me hope and everytime something hurt or i was afraid i thought of them. Today, six years later i still can see their faces smiling back at me. I know my experience was real. I know it was their way of telling me they were with me when i needed them. I had so many conversations growing up with my grandfather. All of them meant something to me but at the time they were just two people talking to each other. The conversation that meant the most to me just so happen to be the only one when not a word was spoken. I can' t wait to have another moment with them. I know they are constantly watching me and in some way guiding me to make the decisions i should be making. Thank you pop-pop & grandma!
Until we meet again...
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