Since it’s been over a year that started this blog, I’ve been thinking about the reasons that I blog. Here they are, in no particular order:
Accountability. It’s another way to be honest with myself and try and stay on top of this journey that I am on. Some days it’s easy, some days it’s impossibly hard.
It’s a constant in my crazy life. It’s always there when I need to vent or even go back and read a post that was maybe a defining moment.
I love to write. I wish I had more time to do it.
To share a side of me that people may not know.
To share things that I love, such as foods, books, products, and more.
To document my life and the events in it.
Motivation. When I write a post about a struggle I’m having and go back and read it days, weeks, or months later, I find it motivational to see how I overcame it.
To vent. There are some days I just need to get something out and what better way to get it out than writing it.
To remember. There is always something going on and we are such a big family. I like to remember special events and other things that we do or go through. Happy, sad, defining, and more. All moments are important and each one adds up to my life.
To {hopefully} inspire others. I follow several blogs and they inspire me. I would love to know that I inspire others in the same way.
When I first started my blog, I imagined it being mostly weight-loss related, although my very first post pretty much said it could be about anything. It was also just two months after losing my dad and I knew it would be another outlet in dealing with that and it has helped. It’s touched lightly on our infertily issues and is as light as posting about our crazy dogs. You can read my very first blog post here http://thiscrazylifeofmine2012.wordpress.com/2011/02/13/my-very-first-blog/
I enjoy my blog and hope that my readers enjoy it as much I do. I love it when a post inspires readers to comment and let me know their thoughts. But ultimately my blog is for ME.
For the last 15 months, I have avoided the hospital where my dad passed away. I’ve had to drive past it many times, although I would even try to avoid that. One time I intentionally drove through the parking lot because I was compelled to do so. I had hoped that I would not ever have to go back inside anytime soon.
Today was the day. My mom is having surgery next week and had to go in for pre-op. I went with her so she wouldn’t have to go alone. My need for her to not be alone outweighed the trepidation that I felt. In fact, I am writing this as I sit in the waiting room and wait for her.
When you spend 12 hours a day or more over a month’s time in a place, there are things you get used to. You learn your way around, you recognize and get to know people, you get used to the sterile smell of the halls and the rooms, the sounds, seeing patients on gurneys, and more.
Neither one of us wanted to walk in there to begin with, and I wasn’t sure what I dreaded most. We had to enter near the emergency room which we knew all too well. Passing the row of parked ambulances brought back a flood of memories. But it wasn’t until we walked in that I realized what would hit me the most. And it was the smell. That sterile smell that I had become accustomed to, and the smell of the soap in the bathroom. To me, sense of smell is very powerful and can be overwhelming, especially in situations like this. These might seem like trivial thoughts to have but when you relate them to the last time you saw someone, it is HUGE.
The last time we were here, we said goodbye to Daddy – and physically left him here. It is one of many thoughts I had that day. I knew it was just his body in that room when we left, and his spirit and all that we loved about him left with us and still remains with us. But at that moment, it felt like we were leaving him, and I hated that.
So to walk back into the same building today that we last saw him in 15 months ago was hard.
Next week we will ALL, I hope, be here as a family as my mom has surgery. No one is alone in this family despite fear, trepidation, and more. The hospital is a great one and everyone here is very kind and patient-oriented. All of this outweighs the bad parts of the walls, rooms, floors, and more that make up the hospital that holds the many memories of pain, loss, and grief we all felt.
I am glad I came with her today, not only to support her, but to get beyond the apprehension of going. The next time we are here, I can focus more on my mom, her surgery, and her recovery. All will be fine.
Today was a very a special day. I will remember it for a very long time. Back on December 29, 2011, I registered for the Rock ‘n’ Roll Half Marathon in St. Petersburg. I was determined to do it. I walked and ran in preparation. I expected to walk most of it and run what I could.
This past week was full of anticipation. It was all I could think about. After I picked up my bib, shirt, and swag bag on Friday – I couldn’t contain my excitement any longer. This was the weekend I would finally become a half-marathoner. All day yesterday, I wanted the day to pass quickly so I could go to sleep and wake up this morning. Like a kid on Christmas Eve waiting oh-so impatiently for Christmas Day.
The alarm went off at 4am this morning and I was ready to go. I showered, dressed, ate a good breakfast, got my stuff together, and we were out the door at 5:20am to beat the traffic to Tropicana Field in St. Pete. The only thing I was worried about was the weather. IT. WAS. FREEZING. With the wind chill it felt like it was in the 30’s and it was windy. I was shivering all the way to my bones. I started out in 2 shirts, a jacket, and gloves.
Finally it was time. The first corral started at 7:30. I was in Corral 12 based on what I thought my finishing time would be. We had to finish in 4 hours and I projected 3:25. We started at 7:46:23 am. Within the first mile, I could not contain myself and I started running. I ran off an on through the whole race. I wasn’t running to beat others or to finish by a certain time. I was just running because I could and because I was on an adrenaline high. This was the farthest mileage I’d ever put in where I was running a good portion of it. I’m not a fast runner, but I run.
Hubby received texts on his phone as I crossed certain points: 5k, 10k, 10 mile, and finish. I saw him three times during my run – right at the start, the 5k mark, and at the finish line. He took some great photos for me.
There were bands and music throughout and lots of wonderful people cheering us on, handing out water and Gatorade. It all kept me going.
By the 5k mark, I was ready to take my jacket off, as I had finally warmed up. The gloves would stay on the rest of the way.
At about the halfway point, I realized that I was really going to do this. I was going to finish this and finish it good. For me. It was very emotional experience. I cried many times during for many reasons…. This was a HUGE thing for me, it was HARD, and I was so proud of myself for taking it on, and riding out the determination of doing it as the weeks passed leading up to it. I didn’t let my insecurities get in the way or focus on all the what-ifs, and my downfalls. I cried from the sheer beauty of the route, especially as we ran along the water. I cried because I knew there would be so many people who would be proud of me for accomplishing this. And I cried because I wished more than anything Daddy was here to hear all about it, to tell me how proud he was of me.
When I hit the 10-mile mark, it felt SO close. Never had 3.11 miles felt so far or so close all at once. When the route was closest to the finish line and I could here the music and people cheering, it made me want to push myself farther and harder. When I rounded the last corner in mile 12 and saw the 13 mile mark and the finish line just past that, I was in tears again. I was so close to finishing, so close to completing this goal I had set for myself.
I saw hubby just before the finish line and that made me cry more. He was there for me as he always is. He supports me and I love him dearly for it.
Crossing over the finish line was a blur. My official finish time was 3:11:33, coming in 6503 out of 7006. I was handed a medal, given a blanket, a bottle of water, and a banana. My picture was taken with my medal on. It was then that I realized I had not stopped my watch. I texted hubby to tell him I was waiting in the family area and waited. When I finally saw him, I was so excited. And then, I saw my mom and Jenna! What a surprise that was. I had just texted my mom to tell her I had finished. I had no clue they were there, even though I found out afterwards that they were standing right by hubby at the finish line. Me and my tunnel vision…
Again I was crying, overwhelmed at finishing, seeing hubby, and seeing my mom and Jenna. they had balloons, and were so proud of me. It was a moment I will not forget.
The day could not have gone more perfect. I started the race with my good friend Terrie, knowing that she was doing it in honor of two very special people as part of Team In Training. I ended the race, feeling extremely proud and strong and loved. And I was so excited to hug Terrie and enjoy the moment with her, knowing we both finished. We did it.
The afternoon was topped off perfectly with a great lunch, with Nick and Autumn joining us. I am exhausted and sore beyond belief, but it is still a wonderful thing. And tomorrow, the 13.1 decal will go on my car. Finally.
Terrie and I in the freezing cold this morning. Brrrr!Starting line!At the 5K mark.A beautiful day for a half-marathon.What a view!Approaching the finish line - determined!So excited to see everyone!Love!!Feeling very accomplished! Terrie and I did it!!A well-deserved beer at the end!
How does the time pass so quickly? How is it that every month offers a new and glorious sunset to remember Daddy by?
The 4th of every month is spent at Crystal Beach in Palm Harbor, a favorite place of Daddy’s. He loved to go and watch the sunsets, the people, and the many dogs who visited the beach. It’s a small beach in a small community, no surprise he enjoyed it so.
14 months ago, on Dec. 4, 2010, our family gathered at Crystal Beach and watched the sunset hours after he passed away. Never before had a beautiful sunset held as much meaning as that day. And every month that we go up there and see another sunset, it is another reminder that Daddy is with us in many ways. Amazingly, it has not rained one single time on the 4th of each month that we have gone up there. Daddy is making sure of that.
Sunsets are so beautiful that they almost seem as if we were looking through the gates of Heaven. ~John Lubbock
