The Bravery of Helen

I'm again on the verge of tears. Partly because the realization of mortality is staggering, and partly because Helen has got to be one of the strongest, most humble women I've ever met.

This morning at work was awkward for no one knew what to say, how to say it, what to do, if they could do anything. The General Sales Manager, Chuck (whom I call my surrogate dad because he does such a great job at directing me in the stead of my wonderful Daddy) put it perfectly by intimating that there is no magic words we can say, no miraculous actions we can produce, so there is no reason to feel helpless. It still doesn't take the helplessness away.

As the morning continued in silence, Chuck boldly walked in and offered his quiet and solid support to Helen. Jen and I still said nothing, not sure what to say, just trying to give her room to breathe. By early afternoon, with only again having suffered small talk, the General Manager Richard came in to see Helen and offered his support as well. Quietly, sweetly, respectfully. Richard is not very quiet so it was amazing to see him in a very tender moment.

Helen was closing up shop, leaving early at 1:00 and I finally asked her how her husband and her were doing. This question resulted in a cryfest.....Helen, Jen and I....just trying to keep it together and oddly enough, it was exactly what was needed to help lift the feeling of anxious depression. Helen was so strong, so emotional, so honest; Jen and I were so touched by the struggle that she's been fighting alongside her husband that long after she left we were still crying at our desks.

There is nothing that the chemotherapy can do and they both know that. John, after apologizing to Helen over and over again for having to leave her, came to the quick thought that he might want to continue rigorous chemo so that he can stay around a bit longer for her. Helen, who heartbreakingly uttered "I have been with this man for more than half my life", believes that he should choose to not seek anymore chemo (for it won't have any real result) and instead spend his last days living it up and travelling with her.

I can't tell you how much this has affected me, and how much reading your comments about how your past friends, going through a similar experience, has affected you.

Life, to me, is a one time deal. If I get to do it over again, I'll certainly try to outdo my first stab at it, but in my mind...this is IT. This is it. So don't you all ask me why I'm so freaking crazy sometimes, LOL.

What Ivan's Lack of Life Meant

Right now, as I fight back tears, I try to remember a very important lesson: live your life to your fullest. Enjoy your moments, seize them when you can, and never ever think that you cannot do something.

There is a short story that I read in my late education called "The Death of Ivan Ilytch" by Leo Tolstoy. One of Tolstoy's shortest works, it in essence describes a man's unexpected death (well, at least he didn't expect it). He'd spent his every moment focusing on work, not on the important things: family, friends, fun. He spent all of his living moments indulged in only WORK.

His family eventually left him. In his moment of truth, while he's on his death bed, he realizes that his only source of comfort is the boy he's hired to take care of him. His only confidante is a strange slave boy trying to make his discomfort more comfortable. Ivan is filled with regret.

When I originally read this story, I was determined to live my life without regret and have managed to do fairly well. Everything I do, whether it be stupid or unfounded or retarded or humiliating, I stand by everything. I don't want to do things over again because I like the lessons that my mistakes give me.

What's my point? My point is that today I heard something horrifying, something that makes me reflect back to Ivan Ilytch and the type of person I don't want to be. My point is that younger folk don't really consider death as a reality but should.

My boss is a wonderful woman who has endured things that she's probably too humble to recap. Her husband has been fighting stage 4 liver cancer since this past December. The doctors did not sugarcoat it....they told them that he would die of the disease. So Helen and her husband decided to try to prolong his life for as long as they could.

They fought the insurance companies, they fought through many different chemo cocktails, and now they are told that all of their efforts are all for naught. Today her husband was told that they could try a more rigorous form of chemo which would have nasty side effects, or that he could relish his ONE to SIX months to live.

This announcement put my life back into perspective and it made me recognize those dreams that I still have to reach. Life is so short and it can be taken from any one of us within the blink of an eye. I don't want to be like Ivan Ilytch. I don't want to think, upon my deathbed, that my life was not fulfilled to the extent I wished.

Neither do you.

Mohawk Gang

So on Saturday, Scott decided to amuse himself when he took the clippers to his head and came down sporting a very thin line of a mohawk. I made him keep it for a day, and just when he was about to shave it off, we thought it would be fun to give someone ELSE a mohawk. Guess! Guess who!

If you're still questioning who got the matching 'hawk, check out the photos!

My life

I know that living 3000 miles away from my family makes it hard for everyone to understand my life. I know that I may mention people, I may tell you about them, but there's never really a face to the name, never really anything to help you see what's just become normal to me.

Thus, I'm posting some pics of our San Diego family! Hope you enjoy! We have several family members and friends that you probably have heard about but never could picture in your mind.

The Campbells, from left to right: Brian, Trevor, Kymberli and Kyler.

Nick and Diane D'Agostino with Diane's daughter Kristin Monroe.

Sarafina and TJ. Our awesome zoo and Wild Animal Park buddies ... and amazing friends!

Jen and Seth. Jen is the most colorful and outrageous coworker ever and Seth is a self-proclaimed book snob (OK, Jen actually proclaimed him that, but I agree) and an Orioles fan (Red Sox are his back up team). Cool peeps.

Ed. Enough said.

A Kid's Idea of Right and Wrong

OK, so yesterday, we all went out to Kymberli's (my sister-in-law) restaurant for her birthday. I could not tell you what the hell brought on the conversation or the outburst, but her 8-year-old son went to make a wise ass comment and instead said something about "I hear Mommy and Daddy have sex." The entire table got quiet and Brian says, "What did you just say?"

Well, Kyler (my nephew) was so terrified that sex was a horrible word that he broke down at the table, despite everyone's insistence that his off-the-wall comment was actually pretty freaking funny and that he was NOT in trouble for saying it. He really believed he'd said something horribly wrong. Here is my pic of Kyler, absolutely traumatized at what he believed was his own naughtiness.

Nappy Headed Robincita

So I just needed to post a pic of what salt water does to fine hair. I almost wanted to walk up to people and demand they lick my hair...seriously, the amount of salt concentrate clinging to every strand might be enough to supply the entire world with some good food seasoning.

Not kidding, I went for a bit of a dip (it was quite hot this past weekend) and as I was sitting on the boat, I realized I was completely coated with a nasty thick film of dried salt. Ick. Anyway, here's my nappy head after all was said and done.

Once Upon A Time

I love fairy tales. I love them. I love the hope, the excitement, the tragedy, the struggle ... I love what fairy tales represent.

Once upon a time, we all decided that we were going to be something. Every now and then we need to be reminded that, despite our struggles, despite the obstacles we may face, despite the timing not being quite right, our dream is still there. Reach for it. Fight for it. Endure.

Things that come easy are not worth claiming in your achievement column. Sometimes you will just suck at some things. But hey, keeping your head high and fight when you've got nothing left but a bologna sandwich, some curdled milk, a great friend and some music to make you realize that the basic idea of carnal passion (and self-belief) is enough to pull anyone through the rough currents.

Your ending might not consist of a prince on top of a turret. Mine doesn't. So what's your fairy tale? Come on...you tell me yours, I'll tell you mine :)