Oscar Night

Our family has a love affair with the Oscars and the Golden Globes. But the Oscars is our night. We spend the year watching every movie available and when the big night comes around we all have our opinions of who should win. Most times we agree, some years we do not, and most times we are rooting for the obscure film.

This year we all agreed on the King's Speech. To have a film produced by the urging of a mom, coupled with a great story during dark times in England looking towards a stutterer to lead the nation, well what more can be said. It was an inspiring movie.

The Ridge

We were back on "The Ridge", better known as McCallie, for a very special event, Honor Scholars Weekend. I have attended two with my sons and two as a parent representative. The first as a volunteer was a cake walk. This one was not since I was asked to talk at the welcoming dinner and the first Joe Restaino '08 Scholarship was being awarded. My heart was in my throat, my hands were covered in clammy sweat and I won't even go to the place of where my stomach was, trust me that is better left unsaid.

Anyone who knows me well is aware that speaking to an audience is very difficult, simply put it is not my cup of tea. Give me a group of two or three I am golden, anything over five I am a wreck. But to be given the opportunity tell a group of potential McCallie men, as well as those who have spent years educating them, what McCallie has meant to our family was more important than my fear of public speaking.

My start was shaky. I looked into the audience and the only faces I saw were those who made everything possible. Those who worked hard to graduate Joe, those who allowed Tony and David to be home with their brother during his last months, those who embraced us with love when that was all we had to cling to, those who have quietly supported us this past year. My voice caught in the vacuum of my throat, my mouth opened but nothing came out, tears welled in my eyes. I took a breath, looked down at my words and somewhere in the space between panic and resolve I delivered my talk.

HIt Me Hard

Today I was going through my emails and there was one from McCallie outlining the schedule for Parent's Weekend. As parents of Seniors I don't know much more we can do in the order of conferences or college applications. But as I scrolled down the list of events my heart dropped. On the official schedule was Joe's Bone Cancer Walk and Swim-A-Thon.

A walk Joe started his Junior year, a walk his brothers have taken on to remember him, a walk that his friends come back for year after year. A walk that is difficult for me since the last one he attended he was recovering from lung surgery and we knew it would most likely be his last. The one I wanted to hold him close but that was not the case. He wanted his friends, he wanted everyone else close but us since it was to painful.

So I will walk on March 5th at McCallie, as I will do every year from this time forward.

Sprint To The Finish

In the throws of college applications it is always one thing or another. We spent most of the day getting their signatures on the last pieces of financial aid and Tony's application for All American. Sandwiched in-between all of this were doctors appointments. It is an insane time. All of us are feeling the pressure of sprinting to the finish line, hopefully intact with a level head ready to counsel our children regarding the best decision for them.

We missed most of this with Joe since he was home and in Chemotherapy. But I do remember one late night in February when he decided to apply to Penn. And at 1:00 AM in the morning he sent off his application, with the hope to fulfill his dream of attending an Ivy League school. We waited to hear the decision. He was accepted and attended. So I take a deep breath with Tony and David, since in reality their applications are not nearly as dramatic as Joe's to Penn, that in the end it works out and they land where they should.

Joy

Yesterday was a very long day, one that would have taxed even the best of human conditions. It was the Tennessee State Dive meet, a 10 hour marathon infused with diet cokes and coffee to keep going. Not to mention the drive from Charlotte to Knoxville and back. Well, again it was another Restaino Road trip.

But in the end it was more joy that I have felt in over a two years. It wasn't that Tony dove incredibly well, through a triple dive or broke a 29 year old school record; it was that we had a moment, a sliver of a golden time after a vast bleakness of dark. We laughed all the way home, like we did in the past from swim and dive meets; we stopped to ordered fries and milkshakes and drove home in the wee hours of the night.

Tony had a perfect meet, we had a perfect day.

I Can't Explain

What I can't explain, or understand, is why some days I fight excruciating fatigue and other days I am full of energy. Is there a hidden switch in my heart that says slow down and remember, and other days flips it to full speed ahead? I have spent a year trying to figure this out with no avail, no answers, no resolve. Today it was full speed ahead even though there were hurdles to jump. But yesterday I could hardly move, making unnerving mistakes that had to be corrected today.

We are still in the muck of sorrow, it distorts our decisions, or in some cases no decisions, but our feet and minds trudge through it everyday.

I hope, and want from the bottom of my heart, to awake full of energy in the morning since it is Tony's State dive meet. I pray to stave off fatigue.

Home

So David is home. Tony has stayed behind to practice before the State Championships, and yet it feels right to just have David home. I always feel better when the boys are home, even if we do not have long conversations. It is just the knowledge they are under my roof, eating my food and sleeping in their beds.

It is different now, one here, the other one not, and Joe never being here again. This is the combination of heart break and rejoice. And here is my first snippet of moving on.

And Where Do We Go From Here?

Ah a very good question. And where do we go from here? For some it is religion, for others it is other forms of soothing the soul. It may be a boomerang back to family members. Or for others it may be connecting to friends from the past. What ever the means we summon to find our way, our path to soothing our hearts, our way to reconciliation.


I have struggled with losing my son over the past year, and yes everyday it's about putting one foot in front of the other. Some days honestly I want to cover my head with the blankets and sleep all day. But on the cusp of year two I have decided to offer snippets every week on how I am surviving. I cannot continue to write about how much I miss Joe, I feel the need to write about how to live, go on, continue after a loss. I hope you will stay with me.

Sixty Two Years

Many of us are grateful to make it 62 years. But, wow, throw down the gauntlet, 62 years of marriage. I sat there with my mom and dad celebrating tonight and the wow factor was my dad opening the door for my mom, ordering her dinner, pushing her chair up to the table so it was just right. And then it was my mom gently laying her hand on my dad's when he would stray from the point of the story.

Sarah and John asked what it takes to get to 62 years. My dad answered it is commitment, getting through the tough times and then relishing the good times. But he finally said if you know this is the one you want spend the rest of your life with go for it, and never look back.

Mike and I saw and took that advice from my parents. We took the leap of faith that all would work out and when it was ugly and painful we held on tighter to each other. When it was time to rejoice we did. But always we were committed.