by Sarah | Dec 30, 2016 | All About Me, All of Us, Depression, Personal, Redefining Perfect, Special Needs, Story of Me
I’ve always been the “Silver Linings” girl.
Well, maybe not always. I did have a rough time as a tween/teen.
Still, since adulthood I’ve tried to always keep on the bright side, to put a positive spin on things, to see the good in people and believe in their best when they might not be showing you their good side. It hasn’t always been easy, but I’ve tried – and mostly succeeded.
There’s been times I’ve been down pretty deep in the doldrums, times where it lingered. Somehow I’ve always pulled myself out. I’d hesitate to call it anything like depression because I’ve seen depression, I’ve seen what pain others feel, and I was never that deep, never that lost.
This year has been rough. I’ve said it many times. It’s knocked me down over and again, every time I’ve tried to pick myself up.
I thought it was just the bad times knocking me down.
Those were the reason I couldn’t pick myself back up so easily.
Those nasty, horrible events were the reason I couldn’t drum out the doldrums as I always had before.
They were the reason the good times didn’t have the luster they usually did.
In the past couple of weeks I’ve had to be honest with myself.
I’ve had to be honest with my husband.
And I forced myself to be honest with my doctor.
I am depressed.
I can’t do this on my own.
I’ve been trying to claw my way back out for months all on my own.
All it’s done is left me nasty, bitter, and angry on top of depressed.
I was always worried I’d insult those with severe depression by admitting mine. However, my bipolar husband thinks I’m being ridiculous by thinking that. As he put it, “Would you not admit you were sick because someone else has cancer?” Sometimes, he’s pretty damn spot on.
So here I am. Being honest with you all, as I’m attempting to be honest with myself.
I am surrounded by my family, but I feel alone.
I am surrounded by joy, but I feel removed from it.
I feel like I’ve tried to reach out, but no one reaches back.
I’m tired of not going out, because I don’t see the point…and because I’m afraid no one will care either way if I’m there anyway.
I feel like the bad is winning. That we will never be in a good place again, personally, financially, physically.
I’ve begun to seek help, but I think it’s going to be a long row to hoe.
And I’m so tired of feeling alone.
by Sarah | Jul 18, 2016 | 45 before 45, All About Me, All of Us, Bucket List, Redefining Perfect, Story of Me
Today I turned 40 years old.
I didn’t fear this day.
I still am not upset. I don’t feel like I’ve crested a hill, or that anything is going downhill.
This weekend I ghost hunted.
Went to an exotic animal sanctuary.
Spent time alone with my husband.
I am not where I plan to be in the future, but I am good where I am.
I am about to have one of my birds fly the coop, and the other two are out of elementary school with eyes on the future. I have a husband to whom I’ve been happily married for nearly 14 years. I have a dog, and a fish, and I’m able to work the job of my dreams (writing) when I can.
I am working on my 45X45 list, and have knocked out a few of those dreams this year. Now that I’m 40, I may take another gander at it to see what I may wish to change.
Either way, I am 40. I am embracing it without fear or upset.
Because 40 is awesome. 40 is when I feel like I’m coming into my own.
Hello 40.
by Sarah | Sep 11, 2015 | All About Me, All of Us, Personal, Redefining Perfect, Story of Me
I posted this last year and the year before at this time. I’m re-posting it. I will always repost it every year at this time…
I know what today is. I know what it means to our country. I remember every detail of 2001 in vivid detail…but since before 2001, this date has been difficult for me, for my family…in 1996 my family’s core was lost, the heart of us…my grandfather…so my post on 9/11 is for him. Oh, and at surface glance I hate this picture of me, but then I see the pure joy on my face dancing with my grandfather and aesthetics be damned, it’s my favorite picture.
It was his birthday.
I was about four years old, and a very short kid…and he was TALL.
I remember standing by as he put our coats in the closet. I leaned my head way back to stare up, up, up at him and asked, “How tall are you?” With his sparkling eyes and laugh he informed me that he was over 6′. My eyes grew wide, and all I could say was, “But you’re so close to the ceiling! If you have ANY more birthdays you’ll go right through!”
His chair sat by the front door and the minute he sat the race was on – who would get the privilege of sitting on his lap, carrying on as deep a conversation as a child was capable of? Who would get to play with his round pot belly, and listen to his laughter?
He worked for GM and he was proud of it, and so were we.
When I close my eyes I can still smell his pipe and see the pipe carousel on his dresser. I can smell the cigarettes that he and grandma smoked.
I remember that after he retired he would watch soap operas during lunch.
And I remember the weddings – when my cousin and I would trade off and share him for the dance. “Grandpa” by the Judds.
I remember his smile.
I remember his belly.
I remember the strength that he always carried in his soul and body.
I remember the pain that shot through my heart at the word…”cancer”. Once it was uttered it was less than a year. 10 months.
I remember the first time I saw him in the hospital-and how I had to run from the room because it made me physically ill to see my big strong grandfather lying in a bed weak and hooked up to tubes.
I remember his fight.
I remember when it was acknowledged in our hearts that the time to fight was over.
I remember how he held on – hours past when we thought we would lose him – because he would not let go until he’d gotten to hear the good-bye of all of his grandchildren, and my brother had been in surgery for a shattered wrist around the world in Japan. Half an hour after the final phone call, Grampa was gone.
I remember the sound of the tennis balls scattering across the hallway when my professor’s assistant walked up asking if she knew where I was…and all I could do was run to my car to get home as soon as I could.
From there it’s a blur…a long car ride from NC to NY. The arrangements. The funeral home. The droves of people I didn’t know, but who all knew him, overflowing the room.
The pain has lessened, resorted to a memory. For the most part I remember the love, the good things, the joy. But on this day every year the pain comes back to the forefront.
The pain seems so much stronger now that Grandma has gone to join him.
Refreshed and renewed now, they are together forever, but they will always be here in our hearts.
We love you still, and will always love you, Grampa.
by Sarah | Aug 31, 2015 | All About Me, All of Us, Personal, Redefining Perfect, Story of Me
This hummingbird glass sculpture was purchased to be my cake-topper at my wedding to match the light hints of hummingbird throughout my wedding (like the hummingbirds mom embroidered on my dress). Less than a year after the wedding my cat skidded across my dresser, knocked it to the ground and shattered it. I refuse to throw it away. It sits there, sealed in a plastic bag, for eternity. The symbol of the hummingbird means too much to give up. I dream of finding someone to fix this cake-topper, even though I know it’s not possible.
*~*
My grandparents used to take an annual trip to see my Grampa’s brother. They’d go out to Massachusetts and spend time with family, and then return home to Buffalo.
One of their favorite parts of the trip was sitting outside and watching the hummingbirds buzz around.
Then, my great-uncle passed away, and my grandparents went out for the funeral. On their last night there, in the cool evening air they spoke of my uncle. As he sat there talking, a hummingbird flew up near my Grampa’s shoulder and hovered. It lingered near his face for several minutes, flitting back and forth before flying off.
They all decided that had been my great-uncle stopping by for one last visit.
Almost nineteen years ago, after a year’s fight against cancer, my Grampa passed away.
It was September in Buffalo. Cold air had begun to move in. All summer things were fading. I returned to New York with the funeral, and then went right back to NC to return to school.
Three weeks later the family grapevine lit up with the story.
At the end of September, Gramma was out on her porch to bring in all the chairs, etc. for winter. It was a yearly ritual when it just became too cold to sit on the porch. Since it was sunny, she decided to sit outside for one last afternoon. Wrapped in her sweater she sat, watching the cars go by as she always did.
There.
In the cold end of September.
Hovering near a hanging plant.
Buzzed a hummingbird.
It flew under the porch roof.
Hovered near Grandma.
And then took off.
*
Every September for the past sixteen years.
Even if I have not seen one all year.
A hummingbird shows up.
Every year.
*~*
I won’t let go of the cake topper.
The hummingbird is still in one piece.
And Grampa still visits.
by Sarah | Jul 25, 2015 | All About Denver, All About Family, All About Me, All of Us, Disney, Redefining Perfect, Story of Me
Growing up, I always knew I’d become my mom. It ran in the family, after all. She was turning into Grandma, and I favored her over my dad, so it stood to reason I’d turn into her.
I never expected to become my dad.
My family had a tendency toward vacations that were road trips. My dad has a bit of a nomadic side to him, so I think those road trips really helped ease that need to go, go, go.
My dad was also a control freak.
I remember half-teasing that he had a tendency to plan our vacations down to the minute.
Trips to Disney. To California. Hockey tournaments. Busch Gardens. The Henry Ford Museum.
Everything was thoroughly researched and plans made that we weren’t allowed to deviate from.
It was intense vacationing.
I swore I’d never do that.
And I haven’t…
Exactly…
When the word came down that Denver’s original wish was going to be a no-go, I knew what that meant.
A return to Disney World (his backup wish).
This time we’d have the experience of last year (and the handful of missteps we made, rides we missed, etc.) to guide us…
Which meant planning was going to happen.
Turns out the teen is as much my dad, if not more, than I am. We’ve gathered books (these are just two of the 6 we have), watched every single Disney special on TV we could find, and I got the free Disney vacation DVD. We’ve written down what we missed that we want to see, and things we saw we want to do again. Denver has even located a map w/ approximate walking times between attractions (seriously).
I’ve made meal reservations (we sort of flubbed this last time), and Denver’s plans are revolving around those times and the parks we’ve mutually agreed we want to visit each of our three days.
Since he’s been gone most of the summer we haven’t gotten down to nitty gritty, and I’m still insisting on complete flexibility (not minute-by-minute) in our planning because things happen, and my dad is ill, and my mom has a horrific back (they are going w/ did I mention that?)–so flexibility is key…but we are going in with some plans this year.
It’s oddly soothing.
Just don’t tell my dad I said that.
by Sarah | Jul 21, 2015 | All About Me, All of Us, Redefining Perfect, Story of Me
In case you’ve been living under a rock–or are new here–here’s a news flash for ya:
I’m from Buffalo.
Buffalo, the 716, is my home town and though I’ve now lived more years in Indiana than I did in Buffalo, I still miss my hometown.
Some things I miss more than others.
This list is all about a few of those things.
1. Anderson’s famous Beef on Weck – You haven’t lived until you’ve had one of Anderson’s famous Beef on Weck’s. That’s Kimmelweck, by the way. It’s essentially a Kaiser roll with coarse salt and caraway seeds. I don’t even need toppings, but many people add horseradish.
2. Sponge Candy – More specifically Fowler’s sponge candy. Anyone from Buffalo knows what it is. Everyone that isn’t gets a blank stare. Let’s just say it’s crunchy, melt in your mouth candy goodness wrapped in chocolate (milk chocolate is my preference, but orange chocolate works well, and I’ll “force down” dark chocolate if it’s all that’s around. I can’t begin to tell you how magnificent this is.
3. Sahlen’s hot dogs – There is no other. I, in general, despise hot dogs. Sahlen’s I will eat until the cows come home. The spices, the skin, the way they cook up on the grill. Nothing compares. Nothing. Still trying to wrangle a way to get them to Indiana without the willingness of Wegman’s (bestest grocery store ever) to move this far west.
4. Family – Like I said, I grew up there. I miss the days of family gathering. Grandma, grandpa, aunts and cousins. Even now it’s not what it was. Grandma & Grandpa are gone, my aunt is living in their old house, my cousin in the next city…but I still miss being that close to my family.
5. Anderson’s & its Frozen Custard – Yes, Anderson’s gets two mentions on the list, they are that good. Not only do I love their beef on weck, but Anderson’s itself (the original on Sheridan Ave) holds such dear memories for me. This picture is from the days when i lived there before they built on an indoor seating area…back when it was walk up only. It gives me a sense of nostalgia. Oh, and the soft frozen custard? Unmatchable. I’ve tried. It’s totally unmatchable.
6. Duff’s – The only place for wings far as I’m concerned.
7. Canada – Again, it was right there. We once had a cottage on Lake Erie, back when crossing the border was as easy as saying hi to a border guard. I miss the cottage, and I really miss the chocolate. Because Canadian candy is DA BOM. Seriously, Smarties (the Canadian version of M&M’s) are so much better…and every other candy. Trust me, there’s a difference.
8. My old House – That’s it. The neighborhood, the house itself, that tree in front was a wee baby when we moved in. Sure, memories are often rosy, but we were really happy there and after we left there we were here, our family separated (bro stayed to finish his senior year in Buffalo), and things were never ever the same.
9. Niagara Falls – It was right there. In some ways that made it less special, in others more. I mean, it’s the Falls.
10. Vinegar on Fries – The land where it’s so expected that you put vinegar on your fries, that vinegar is on the tables like ketchup. My favorite place to indulge is at Ted’s (where they, coincidentally, serve Sahlen’s hot dogs).
*~*
Okay, so clearly I have a dear, close tie to the foods of my home, since they clearly dominated this list. lol. still, I miss so much. ~sigh~
Of course, if asked if I’d want to live there again I generally say no. That doesn’t mean I don’t miss it with my whole heart.
I’ve always been the “Silver Linings” girl.
