5 Years

It was 5 years ago on January 13th, 2005 that my mom lost her battle with pancreatic cancer. 5 years. 5 YEARS. I just keep saying it, over and over again in my head. So much can happen in 5 years, it is literally a lifetime for my son who is turning 5 in April. Looking back a the last 5 years, I realize so much has changed, life goes on, but at the same time I look around our house and so much of it is exactly like it was 5 years ago.

On the mantel above the fireplace sits a framed picture of my sister, mom and I, and leaning on that frame is the memorial card from my mom’s service. I placed it there when we came home from her service and it has been there ever since. I am not sure how many times I have picked it up and read it in the last 5 years. It feels like I just put it on the mantel yesterday.

I think of my mom often, I miss her every day. I wonder what it would be like if she was here, if she witnessed the funny little things Asher and Eden do. If she and Tatum could play together now. My mom relished being a grandmother (or Oma) to Tatum, but with Asher she just got to touch my belly and tell him she wanted to live long enough to meet him. Before Asher was even conceived, the doctors told her she had 2 months to live, mom lived almost a year from the day they told her. Until the end, she was defying odds – always a bit stubborn and just not wanting to believe she wouldn’t be with us. I look back and I know I was not believing. I remember back to 2002 when my mom was first diagnosed with cancer. I did all the research online and read that pancreatic cancer had a very small survival rate, but this was my mom and if anyone could beat it, she could. Miracles happen.

Sometimes knowing that you are going to lose someone close before you actually do is the miracle, the gift. It hurts and you don’t want to believe it, but there is the warning, expectation and with knowing comes the opportunity to not let the one you love leave this world without showing and telling them what they mean to you. We expected my mom not to live a year after her first diagnosis, but we were blessed with more than 2 years. Every day, week, month was a miracle. In our society, we feel there is never enough time to do the things we need/want to do, EXCEPT when you are told you only have a short window or deadline, then miraculously we find the time. That is what we did as a family, made time to be together because we didn’t know how much time we would have with her. And everyday I am grateful to have had that time, to have been given the gift of knowing (but still always hoping the doctors were wrong).

Tatum asleep on Oma, her favorite spot.

My mom came and stayed at our house every week for 2 nights a week. Even though my mom was sick with cancer, in many ways her illness was not apparent. She had become very thin and frail, but was still beautiful, strong willed and very active. When she came to stay with us, she was always the first one up in the morning. She’d go down to the kitchen an make coffee, before the rest of the house woke up. Just like when I was in high school, she would make me a cup of coffee and bring it upstairs for me. There was something so special about that to me, and just hearing her footsteps coming down the hall, brought me back in time. No matter how old I was, I was always her little girl and she was always taking care of me.

Over the last 5 years, sometimes when it is one of those weekend mornings where it is my turn to sleep in and Steve is with the kids, in a half asleep, I hear someone coming upstairs and the wood floor creaks just outside of the bedroom as someone is about to enter. As I open my eyes, just for a moment I expect to see my mom coming through the doorway with coffees in each hand, one for her and one for me. In that second, she is alive and her passing is a dream. My heart warms for that moment and I feel her. I wonder when I will stop expecting to see her, maybe it will take another 5 years.

A lazy morning, after our coffee together.

The thing about 5 years it is a long time, but at the same time it is a blink. Life goes on, but there are parts of my life, like the appearance of our house, that is almost frozen in time. Not the most organized, I believe I have been particularly neglectful in the last 5 years with moving forward. I haven’t updated any pictures in the frames around the house with new ones, there isn’t one picture in the house of Eden, and the ones of Asher he is a bald baby. The baby pictures around the house are still Tatum. I have boxes in the basement that I got from my mom’s house, I just can’t bring myself to look through. The boxes are sitting there, taking up space for 5 years, a half of a decade. I am still finding things around the house that are my mom’s. It actually took me 4 years to throw away a cocoa butter body lotion she used to use – it was so old, but if I opened it and smelled the lotion, it made me think of her. I have bottles of my mom’s perfumes in my room, that I am sure are too old and I don’t plan on using, but I can’t seem to part with them. I know logically that her things don’t preserve her memory. How do I move forward, let go? I know this isn’t an uncommon occurrence to find your house filled with things you don’t use, that may have belonged to someone you loved. To find your surroundings stuck in time.

In 5 years, my memory, love and admiration for my mother has not faded. I know it is time to sort through all her things, to purge our house of the clutter.  Keeping things the same hasn’t changed the fact that I miss her and will miss her every day for the rest of my life. I can’t keep the house halted. It’s been 5 years. The task is overwhelming and it won’t be easy, but it’s time.

A first step…scanning all the old pictures. Here re two of my favorites of her – very young in her modeling days in Indonesia.

A New Year, A New Start for…

It is unbelievable that it is already 2010. I know I think this every year “where did the time go?”. Oh well, I am not going to focus woulda, coulda, shoulda, but on making a new start for this new year. New year, new opportunities. Not going to set resolutions that I can’t keep, like “to stop being a procrastinator” – maybe something more gentle like “to procrastinate just a little less”.

This blog has gone to the dogs. It is neglected, well maybe abandoned is a better word. I am full of ideas, things I want to write and say, but never seem to be at the right place at the right time to complete the actual act of typing my thoughts. Full of ideas, and full of excuses. Right now I am resolving to set some time aside to write my thoughts for let’s say the week, even if they are random. I really need to write for me, it is a great release. Number 1: Stick to a weekly routine, at least on some things. In my daily life this would be sticking to my weekly Body Pump class. For this blog it will mean to write a weekly post. That should be easy enough, right?

You would think, but I have about 5 drafts for posts from the last 6 months. I start them, then don’t finish. Kinda like the way I clean the house . A good friend strongly suggested that I read the book, Driven to Distraction. I told her, I don’t think I really need to read it to know that I am ever so slightly ADD, and I know I would buy it, look at it start, maybe even start reading it, then uh…get distracted, put it down and forget about it. I also have posts that are drafted and were essentially done, but for some reason, I didn’t post. Rethinking what I wrote, wondering if I should add or change it. Then I would not go back to it, and you guessed it…forget about it, until it was too old to bother with! So why do I hesitate to publish? Well to be truly honest, I am worried about what people with think when they read it. What if I come off bitchy, whiny, or worst of all stupid? By writing a blog, I am making myself vulnerable for criticism. And logically I realize that expressing my opinion from the heart, will likely bring other points of view, and that if someone doesn’t like what I write, they can just choose not to read it. Really all the back and forth in my head is redundant and stupid (ya, I said it). My next resolve should be easy too. Number 2: Write from my heart at the moment, from my point of view, and don’t worry about what others think. [And remember that I can always edit or delete later - it is MY blog for goodness sake ]. For my daily life, this number 2 translates slightly different.

I want to use this blog as the place that I talk about the experiences of the passed (particularly with the good, bad, ugly of having a business). I want to focus the rest of my life on living in the present, being in the moment and not focusing on what happened yesterday and what could happen tomorrow. I know I spend far too much time worrying about what might have been or what could be. The last month or so I have been almost fully focusing on the kids, taking a hiatus from worrying (that word again, maybe I should say fretting) about the state of business (something I am not going to delve into now). It has been tremendous to live in the present. Enjoying every giggle (every whine, cry and scream) with the kids. Because of the snow just before Christmas, we had 2 full weeks together. Everyday, all day. And despite the stress of making sure everything was set for Christmas (with Santa coming and all…), it has been a time of living in the moment. So Number 2 is big – focusing on the present, enjoying every moment, and putting the past in perspective (it can’t be changed, but can be learned from).

For now 2 resolutions are all I can handle, of course I will keep my standby of procrastinating less (which Number 1 is really just a product of…).
2010 is a new year, a new start for an abandoned blog, and an opportunity to soak up all the potential of today.

[Can't really find the words I want to express what I mean, but if I ponder too long, I will think and rethink, to the point of futility. Closing my eyes and hitting publish.]

Tuesday Tirade #1: School Lunches & #@??!!!%%!

I’ve fallen off the blogging bandwagon, but thought I would come back with my first Tuesday Tirade. Ya, I have decided that Tuesdays will be my outlet to bitch about the stuff in the world (my little piece of it) that is bothering me %#@^!!!

The last few weeks have been crazy busy. End of May, the Chic&Cozy was shelved at Target. A huge undertaking and something I am very proud of, but also completely stressed out about (will blog about this later). Coinciding with entering Target came the end of the school year for Asher (1st year of Montessori) and for Tatum, who just finished her first year at the public school in kindergarten. I can’t believe she is a first grader. Gulp. Anyway, I worked very hard this year to make time to volunteer almost every Thursday at Tatum’s school. I came in the morning and stayed until the kids went to lunch. All of Tatum’s classmates call me “Tatum’s mom”, a name that just makes me happy!

yummmm....drumstick?

School has been out a week or so and there has been something bothering me. Here’s my peeve. The thing I don’t get, school lunches. Have you seen what the schools serve elementary school kids? If you haven’t, I took some pictures. Week after week, I would go in and sit with Tatum for part of her lunch (we pack her lunch every day but Friday so she can be “a buyer” and get pizza), and week after week, I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw what the school served for lunch. We live in a society with obesity on the rise in children. But how can children learn about eating nutritiously when the schools (their educators) give them french fries with a processed chicken nugget (in the shape of a drumstick) for lunch? I don’t think I ever saw anything green, but maybe lime jello, on the trays. What the %##@?! And I know parents are busy, so packing a lunch isn’t for everyone, but children should be served balanced nutritious meals. Right?

I went on a field trip at the end of the school year. The kids needed to bring a bag lunch, so even the buyers had to bring. I was amazed at what some of the parents or caregivers packed for them. One little girl had a ready pack of nachos for lunch (queso cheese & nacho chips). That was it. Another boy, who at just 6 is tipping the scales, had for his lunch: 2 bags of chips (yes 2, not 1), chocolate pudding, a candy bar, sandwich on white bread, high-fructose corn syrup juice drink, and an apple. He ate the pudding first. Guess what he didn’t eat? Why would anyone pack all that junk food for lunch? How can our children be responsible if we are not teaching them well? I just don’t get it. Isn’t that doing a disservice to our children? I don’t believe convenience foods cost less. I know if I buy products in ready packs it actually costs more than if I buy a large bag or jar (for example, a jar of apple sauce is much more cost effective than the individual containers – but ya, the individual containers are easier).

Maybe not as bad? Chilli & tortilla chips?

Now we don’t eat perfectly at our house. Everything in moderation – we have dessert, chips, candy, etc. – sometimes, not every time. I don’t cook dinner every night (ya, talk to my husband, he is lucky if I cook 3x a week , but we try to make healthy choices. I know we should be buying organic,but it is expensive, so I buy organic sometimes. I figure sometimes is better than never.

I know the lunches that schools serve have to be cheaper than fresh quality items, but is it really worth the end result? Children developing diabetes & heart disease? How can we not afford to provide decent food in one of the richest countries in the world? Where are our priorities?

Wow, this was preachy, but seriously…what are we thinking?

Memorial Day Cookouts 1, 2, 3…

Memorial Day

Memorial Day weekend has become to mean the first weekend of summer. Although summer doesn’t “official” begin until June 21st (the summer solstice and the longest day of the year in terms of daylight), for most Americans Memorial Day weekend is summer. Our neighborhood pool opens and pools all over the country and it is the count down to summer vacation (I don’t know, isn’t that an oxymoron – my kids home all summer doesn’t really feel like a vacation – ha!)

As a family, we have spent the weekend going from one cookout to another and to the pool. We couldn’t even cookout ourselves this weekend, cause well we weren’t home! Saturday we were at a friend’s cookout and pool opening get together. Kids were in the pool all day, seriously, they were in bed by 8pm, with no fuss – out. Sunday we went to our neighborhood pool, but they were too tired to swim! Our 4 year old, Asher, fell asleep on his towel and chair after only being at the pool for 20 minutes – my husband had to carry him to the car. At home proceeded to sleep another 3 hours (!) before it was time to go to, you guessed it, the next cookout. This one started at 6.30pm on Sunday night. It was at one of my husband’s co-workers house. We had the youngest kids there. Our kids are THRILLED to follow around the big kids (pre-teens/teens). Luckily these big kids were terribly sweet to ours and let them follow them around and took care of them. Honestly, one older boy was asked to take care of Asher, and another boy said “I want to take care of him too”. So nice to see this!

We were able to  have a nice time without any worries about the kids (of course, except for the 11 month old, who was in her sling enjoying the adult conversation, food & desperately trying to get a sip of mommy’s margarita! We didn’t get home until after 11pm! Didn’t stop them from waking up again at 7am.

In a little bit we are going to cookout #3 for the weekend, Memorial Day weekend. Kids are asking who’s birthday it is? Why do we have so many parties? We are trying to explain the meaning of Memorial Day. Right now they are just see this weekend as pool, watermelon, and fun. And it is embarrassing to say, but sometimes I forget about the meaning. It gets lost for me in the cookouts and time at the pool. This is my reminder and for anyone else out there lost in the fun and celebration.

Memorial Day is a day of remembrance for those who have died in our nation’s service.

I just wanted to take a personal moment to remember our troops and all those that have sacrificed their lives for our country. And say thank you.

Here is a great video someone put on youtube.

True Meaning of Memorial Day

What is Mother’s Day without Mom?

I know I am a mom, but for me Mother’s Day is still the day I thank my mom. And it just never quite feels like Mother’s Day without being able to pick up the phone and call her. I lost that privilege in January 2005 when my mom lost her more than two year battle with pancreatic cancer.  I miss her every day, but Mother’s Day and her birthday (which if my sister or I forgot we would have been permanently disowned), her absence is really felt. Up until 6 years ago, I had celebrated every Mother’s Day as a daughter, grand-daughter or aunt. The day was never about me, but always about those around me, particularly my mom. Who had in many ways raised us alone (my parents were divorced). And there was one thing my sister and I, and anyone who know our mother, were certain, everything she did was for her daughters and all those she loved. Family (real and chosen) meant everything to her. She loved being a mother, the matriarch, and she adored being a grandmother.

One of the few pictures that my mom and Tatum "look-a-like"

Mother’s Day is one of the holidays designed to sell greeting cards and spike retail sales. I think my mom alone supported the greeting card industry. Unlike me, she always had a card ready to send someone and it was sent on time for the occasion. How befitting that I started this post the night before mother’s day and of course have missed the day all together. Ya, in this way I am not my mother’s daughter, and I sincerely consider that a bad thing (she was wonderfully thoughtful and giving).

I remember  having to go through my moms things after she died, and finding a drawer filled with greeting cards for every occasion. Also in that drawer was her address book that she must have had for at least 30 years. I looked up my name and saw each time she had scratched out an old address for a new one since first going off to college! She always sent me a birthday card, Christmas card, and when I became a mother, she made sure I got a lovely Mother’s Day card.

I can’t say I was always so good to her, always so thoughtful. I could barely remember to buy a card, let alone get it in the mail on time for her to receive it on Mother’s Day. Around Mother’s Day I just remember feeling stressed about what we should do this year. This was the thing, my mom always said, I don’t care if you forget any holidays, just don’t forget my birthday, but truth was, she loved being the center of attention of her family. She loved when my sister and I went all out to make her feel special. The problem was, we never knew what would actually make her happy. Our mom never needed anything. If she wanted something, she just bought it for herself, making it extremely difficult to find a good gift, much less the perfect gift. Any gift was mostly just more of something she had already had. Weeks, sometimes months before, my sister and I would talk and say “oh jeez, what are we going to do this year?” I could feel myself tense. I didn’t want to disappoint her, but I am not that creative and not a planner! It took the last few years of her life for my sister and I to finally realize what for our mom the perfect gift was — it was just our attention and being together. Don’t miss understand, my mom loved nice things like diamond jewelery but if you couldn’t get the most dazzling, you could give her a rock from the street and get the same reaction!

My fondest Mother’s Day memory is long before I had become a mom. It was 10 years ago, and I was working at a high tech startup, getting my MBA at night, single and living the high life. My sister was living out in Sacramento with my brother-in-law and my nephew (2 years old at the time). Our mom had planned to be out there visiting during Mother’s Day. I had found out I needed to be in San Jose for a tradeshow right around Mother’s Day. We didn’t tell our mom, we made a plan. My sister knew my arrival time, I called from my mobile. I knocked on the door. My sister asked our mom to answer the door. She opened it and her jaw dropped. “Oh my God, I can’t believe it”, she said it with her accent (my mom was Indonesian and if you ever meet me in person, I can do her accent in a heartbeat). She blushed and smiled. We had succeeded in giving her the best Mother’s Day – Both of her daughters together.