It's Happening...

Last night I left home at 6:15 to sub for my old bunco group and came home a *new* member of said group.  Due to a member choosing to do what I did 5 years ago or so - and take a break from it, and my time "opening up at home" with kids leaving the nest every 2 years, well, it seems like a good idea.

When I got home, The Dad had been patiently waiting for me so that we could watch "Idol" and at some point, while I was telling him a story my pal KM2 just told me, Zach came bounding up the stairs.  He was printing papers here and there, needing the stapler, needing the 3 hold punch that one of his older brothers used 2 years ago about this time of year and didn't return it to it's home in my desk.  It has yet to be discovered in a room...  

I asked The Dad  what "we" were working so feverishly on and he said "He's presenting his Senior Project tomorrow morning."

MOTY - "WHAT?  Tomorrow?"

The Dad - "I guess so."

MOTY - <thinking...  'You think so?'>

MOTY - "Is he ready?"

The Dad - "Well I've heard him down there playing, so I guess."

The Moms and The Dads are so much different.  If The Son told The Mom that he was presenting his Senior Project, surprisingly, the next day... and The Mom knew The Son was playing the guitar, self taught, SHE would make a few excuses to need to do the laundry, or pick up the downstairs bathroom so that she could be a part, or know in her heart that The Son was ready, by sneaking a few "listens".  Or at least know if she needed to say extra prayers that night in the hopes The Son did well enough to pass.

The Dads scratch their bottoms, eat a few chips, watch SportCenter, go to the bathroom, come out of the bathroom, let the pets in, watch The Son run up and down the stairs, inquire "What's going on?" and when The Son replies "I'm doing my Senior Project tomorrow", says "Cool." and resumes the scratching, while sitting on the couch, watching SportCenter.  With chips.

It's true.  You know it is.

I didn't go to the club this morning.  Instead a ushered The Dad out of the bedroom to make a "good" lunch and I made The Son some muffins, got a plate, butter and all the "goods" out for him because this is "kind of a big deal."  He came up and grunted a few times, but I leaned up (okay, tiptoed up) to give him a good luck kiss on the cheek and told him "good luck."

And off he went.

I got this shortly after getting settled in at work today.  

He passed.  I wondered if he had played the song I heard him teaching himself a while back.  And I knew the meaning behind it.  And then and now it brings tears to my eyes. 

I don't know, and though I've asked (texted him) to inquire, he doesn't respond.  Perhaps that is my answer.  The unspoken.

It doesn't matter.  He taught himself the guitar, he worked hard, he changed while doing it.  He passed this "big" project that allows him to move on to the U next year.  

It means, aside from his AP tests - he's done.  He's going to grow up just like the other two.  It means he's leaving.  It means that the last one of these human beings that I've poured my heart and soul, tears, stress, laundry detergent, $$$, food, smiles, laughs, sports with... is headed to the next phase.  Which means a new phase for me.  

Everyone else always talks about how great it is - life without the kids around.  I've had to go thus far, and though it's easier, I gasp for breath when I know they're going to be pulling up at any second.  I miss them all of the time.  I wonder if I did things right.  I know I can't get time back and the bad is the bad... but it haunts me all of the time.  I love them too much, my husband has said... and it's true perhaps.  But I can't imagine my life without them in it and I'm struggling to know that I have to move on to a next phase. More than I struggle with their new adventures.

Congrats my Zachy.  If you want to live at home until you're 47, I'm all for it!  Don't tell The Dad I said that.

American Idol, Baby!

Tonight is "American Idol" night and I've just committed to bunco!  What was I thinking?!?!

The past 3 years I haven't invested much time into the show because it's the same old thing year in and year out.  We've gotten into "The Voice" and I don't even watch that for the competition anymore.  At least not the contestants competition.  I DO, however, watch it for the competition between the coaches and I like to look at Adam Levine and Blake Shelton... while The Dad likes looking at Christina Aguilera!  She can be drop dead gorgeous and she seems very approachable and she can wail!  So... I didn't pay a whole lot of attention when "Idol" came on this year.  I usually had my laptop on my lap on the couch or was often in the office while The Dad was watching.  BUT...

As soon as I heard Phillip Phillips sing and he had that Darius Rucker/Edwin McCain sort of sound to him - I paid attention to when he was on.  And then Colton showed how much of an artist he is too... so now I was yelling out "Who's next?" from the office or the laundry room downstairs.  Then I heard that little Jessica sing and Skylar... woo boy!  So the last 2-3 weeks I've watched it, mostly.

The 7 that are left are all very good.  I would say that the adorabe, teeny tiny Holly is probably next to go.  She has a huge voice but just doesn't have the confidence needed or the ability to do anything more than ballads.  I think Elise and Joshua should exit stage right after Holly and then probably Skylar.  The girl can do some amazing things, but there are three ACTUAL artists that she's up against.  They have all the pieces already...  

So yes, I can tape it... shnikeys... I just said that.  I can DVR it and I will... but dangit if I can't wait to see what Phillip and Colton do tonight!  Hasn't it been a while since a girl won?  I don't know... and mostly don't care - because I think, at this point, that Colton and Phillip are the ones to beat and SHOULD probably tie.  Jessica is great, but her career has already been made and she still needs some finishing work.

I amn't (that could totally be a word... Zach Attack made it up when he was a toddler and it's stuck with us) going to download the iTunes versions of their songs.  Yet.  But I do love this song.  Loved it before Elise and Phillip sang it. Enjoy.

Dogs & Ducks

So I wrote my whole "Duck" story the other day - which still saddens me...

Then someone told me about the "Dog" story and I was going to search for it, but it was on the news that very  night.  So here IT is:

And yes.  It sucks. 

What is so inspiring to me is the loyalty the duck and this dog have for their fallen friends.  I know people that have far less loyalty, if any, to friends, family, etc than these animals had for each other.  I'm sure we all do.  

But if we know those people or ARE those people, there's probably not a good chance that how we respond to someones loss is ever going to change.  Some people are born wearing their hearts on their sleeves, others appear to have no feelings at all.  Some show concern, empathy when it's needed and would hope for the same in return; some appreciate the empathy, condolences and wouldn't think to reciprocate.  

"Grace" and my "Duck" stayed the course, to make sure they didn't leave someone behind. Their someone.  I would think a stray dog would be more conditioned to continue running.  Too bad, so sad, leaving dust in her trail.  But she didn't.  She was loyal.  She stayed.  She was "human"... as was my "Duck".

So a duck and a dog can be human-like...  Absolutely.

But how come more humans - can't be more like the dog... and the duck?

Let's turn this around a bit:

On Sunday, I went grocery shopping.  While I was out grocery shopping I picked up a box of Rosauers shortbread cookies.  When they're fresh... they're "the bomb".  I knew that #7 was coming in for dinner and he loves them so I figured I'd send some home with him.  I first ate one to make sure they tasted okay.  Then The Dad had one.  Repeat.

This morning, we left for the club and upon our return, the dogs had managed to balance on one of the others backs to get the box off the back of the counter to finish the rest of the cookies that we didn't send back to school with #7.  The Dad was immediately ticked.  I laughed.  He started the blame game saying it had to be Boone.  The biggest dog we have, the tallest, and yet the one standing underneath his feet wagging his tail with passion!  Then came Dan... slinking his way, tail tucked, yet wagging... into the dining area, carefully watching our reactions.  I was laughing.  The Dad, still pissed.  Still blaming Boone, who is still wagging his tail and smiling!  I have seen the smallest dog, Dan, reach much further than the other two, on the counter, the table, etc.  Dan was the culprit.  Jack sauntered up the stairs and while we know he partook in the "Feast of Shortbreads", he KNEW he wasn't guilty, so casually, and without his tail between his legs sauntered to the door to let me know that the cookies had hit his intestines and it was time to release now.  

Where am I going with this?  I tried to tell The Dad that the dogs were, in effect, just being loyal.  Not only to each other, but to us.  They KNOW what those cookies will do to my hips and The Dads' stomach.  They were loyal in that they all ATE the cookies so that they either had to face the consequences together (were there any to be had!).  

In all seriousness - stories like this video above touch our hearts because we don't SEE it often enough.  We don't see our friends, family, co-workers, neighbors, people in general showing compassion and loyalty.  Love. We all know someone who's left others behind...  and it's been a growing trend in a greedy world.  The "all about me" world.  

And that sucks ass.

The End.

7

There are 7 Harry Potter books.

There are 7 days of the week.

There's the 7th inning stretch.

7 days of creation.

There are 7 colors of the rainbow.

7 is the number of dwarfs in "Snow White"

7 Wonders of the World

The 7 deadly sins.

"September" means the 7th month in latin.

Number seven is the number of perfection, security, safety and rest.

Your cousin wears #7 at the school you both attended the last two years.

You've been missing from your mom, dad, sisters, grandparents, friends, cousins, aunts, uncles, dogs, cats, the Deming and EWU communities and many many more peoples' lives for 7 months.  

At WSU, for 7 months now... on a wall in the house on Opal Street, next to a boys pillow, hangs your memorial program. And when he moves home for the summer it will come with him.  When he moves back to FIJI house next fall, it will go back.  I know this because Hunter's program has hung in this house and FIJI house since June 2009.  When the room is rearranged, the photo moves.

Today - on this 7 month anniversary - know you are still the picture of perfection.

Today - on this 7 month anniversary - know you are secure in all of our hearts.

Today - on this 7 month anniversary - know we all preach and fight for safety from others like the monster that killed you.

Today - on this 7 month anniversary - we know you are not at rest, while you still occupy our minds and hearts, and likely guide those who need guiding and an angel to watch over them.  

And so like Ry, who "took" you to the top of Camelback mountain in March, your Uncle and I decided Ryan started something.  So we "took" you to Cabo with us.  (Please disregard the had your uncle bought and wore way too often!)  And soon, "you'll" be off to Hawaii & Disneyland.  While it would be far more fun to see pictures of YOU at all of these places, we are relegated to bringing you with us in our hearts - and on our backs.  

The Duck

I've been beyond busy.  Worked until 7pm the other night to finally catch up (there is no such thing as work EVER being done in live television) to the point where the stack on my desk wasn't 4 inches deep of single sheets of paper.  I then took a short lunch the following day so that I could take off early for "WSU Mom's Weekend" version 2012.

I packed my stuff up along with the tardy birthday gifts and cards that arrived after Ryan's birthday and had them ready to go so that when I left work early, all I'd have to do is get home, grab my stuff, empty my bladder, stop for Starbucks, stop for gas and be on my way!

And so it was.  Sort of.  My p.c. was shut down, I was grabbing my purse and keys when all of the salespeople in any capacity were called up front for an announcement.  And so my early dismissal was pushed back a skoche.  As soon as the exciting announcement was over, I raced home, grabbed the stuff, got my second tall, non-fat, with whip cinnamon dolce latte of the day - thinking I would need to stay up later than usual and filled up with gas... and at nearly $4 a gallon, I was shocked with the Jeep only took in $52.  So that was a nice surprise.

It was an uneventful drive and took less time that The Dad says it takes... both Ryan and I confirm he's wrong.  He swears he's right - but then this is the guy that says "No gratzi" to the locals in Cabo San Lucas.  And when corrected that it's "No gracias" - says "Same thing."  There was more traffic this year than last - in fact, I don't remember any other cars around me last year - so this next little "event" threw me for a loop.  In fact, had no one been around me (cars were close ahead AND behind me at this point) I would have screeched to a halt and done something.  Not sure what, but something.

I was just coming around the curve that leads up the incline that leads to the turn to Pullman when I see a dead duck on the side of the road.  I winced and felt sad, but it was what my eyes saw next that pierced me.  

Ducks travel in flocks.  If one lands, so does another.  

And there he was.  Sitting about 4 feet from his dead friend, nervous and backed away from the traffic.  And he was just waiting for him.  And the thought crossed my mind that while I knew ducks did this, that I didn't know how long he would wait for his pal to "come around".  And I started crying.  And I called Jeff.  And I blubbered to Jeff.  And when I got to Ryan's fraternity - I told him and welled up with tears again.  All the while, telling myself the other duck would be fine.  He would fly away, but never believing it.  Here I am two days later and the duck is on my mind.  

When I let Jeff know I was on my way home, I told him if my duck was still there, the dogs and the duck were going to be siblings.  He told me 'No ducks".  I wasn't so sure he was going to win on that.  I know ducks smell, I know that there might be concerns that Dan might favor "Roast" Duck for dinner... but anyone who really knows Dan, the dog, knows that it would be a quick chase, and all he really would want to do is snuggle up with him.  In my bed.  On Jeff's side.  Fo sho!

No cars were either in front of me or behind me as I left Pullman, my FIJI son, the Coliseum (not where concerts are played), Martin Stadium, The Cub and a really cool Starbucks, behind.

So as I came to the spot where a duck still lay on the side of the road and slowed to make sure his companion was nowhere to be found I breathed a sigh of relief.  The Dad won... Dan and I lost - and will not have a new "friend" to call our own.

But mostly, I'm just happy he finally flew away, or that his flock came to find out wtf? was taking them so long.  

Okay.  We found "That Thing You Do" on T.V. and the Oh-nee-ders are about to sing.  

Until tomorrow!

I'm Listening.

I woke up on Tuesday morning, April 10th and from the time my eyes opened - I was thinking about Sarah.  At the club, getting ready for work, driving to work and starting out my work day.  I usually manage to bury myself in work - especially after the Cabo trip and still making all of the program changes!  (Which I finished today, just in time for two more to come across - Ugh!).  I left work early yesterday to head out to Shadle Park to watch Zach's tennis match and as I drove across the Maple Street bridge she was back.  From that moment, through Zach's match until I got home.  I can't put my finger on it, and couldn't at the time - but driving back across the bridge I started to cry.  I cried as the train passed over me at 2nd Avenue, under the overpass, along 4th to Monroe, up Monroe where hitting one of the dips in the hill I vividly remembered being in my dads' jeep and taking the hill with him and the butterflies that fluttered in my stomach, though briefly, past Rosauers on 14th, past Wilson Elementary where I passed a policeman and decided, I better shape up.  I remembered each bump in the road, felt the sun, remember the butterflies and all the while - couldn't pry or cry away the thought that Sarah didn't have a chance that night.  And I found myself wondering if she was singing at the top of her lungs as she drove the Mt. Baker Highway that night.  I winced at the memory of the phone call that morning as we had just crossed into Montana.  I imagined the panic and worry of her cousin when she knew there was an accident and couldn't get Sarah on her cell.  I knew that it was fate that I was in Montana - and could not be the one to tell my sister, Sarah's mom, the news that had just come through my line.  

I walked in the house and Jeff could tell I'd been crying and asked why.  So I told him.  He asked if maybe I should call Rob, Sarah's dad - and I shook my head no.  The last thing I wanted to do was bring someone down with my unexplained day of such vivid thoughts and memories.  This is not, of course the only time I think about her.  I think about her every single day - as the guardian angel that hangs from my rearview mirror is my daily reminder as is the button that sits in the coveted Starbucks card holder by my gear shift in the jeep.  

Fast forward to today when I received a text from Rob about a benefit being put on for his brother Troy, later this summer.  I responded and a short "conversation" ensued.  It was when he made a comment that seemed to echo my day yesterday, that it began to nag at me.

I am a hopeless romantic.  I daydream.  I fantasize. I wonder about things that are bigger than me and challenge the responses of people who "believe" in what's been written but they've never seen or experienced themselves.  But at the same time I do believe that there is no such thing as a coincidence, that everything happens for a reason.  I believe that we are supposed to learn from these happenings or "hear" a message - which will enable us to learn, live, change, heal, take action... and so on.

There's a reason for *this*, and whatever it is, I just want you to know - I'm listening.  If I'm needed to "help", I will.  I know - you know.