Poetry Slam

If you have never been to a Poetry Slam it is a must do. We went to a youth Poetry Slam and these kids, ages 13 to 18 years old, poured their hearts out through the most beautiful poetry you have ever heard.

Mike and I went out of curiosity because David did a Poetry Slam while he was at St. Andrew's Scotland this summer, and he called with such excitement after winning second place. We had no idea what he was talking about so we thought we would see it first hand. And man oh man this is incredible to watch and listen to original poems written by these incredibly talented writers.

So I highly recommend putting this on your bucket list, it will inspire you and reinforce the power of the next generation.

When Is..

When is the final goodbye? I have searched forever for the answer. And just when I think I have come to the absolute end of my grief of losing Joe, I turn a corner and get smacked down.

So when does it stop? Will it be a year, or two years, maybe five years or never. I don"t know. All I know there is not a day that goes by we don't miss Joe. I hate how our family has been redefined and rearranged as we search through the darkness ending up feeling our way through every day.

A loss of a son, a brother, a friend sets you back a notch or two. We try every day to keep going, one foot in front of the other. But to be honest it is hard to keep going, to put the smile on our faces, to live as we did before. And maybe that is the key, we will never live like we did before losing Joe.

The Fall

The air in Charlotte has lost the horrendous humidity (thank goodness because my hair looks better), and I feel the crispness of fall approaching. This is my most favorite time of the year because it beckons the beginning of the holiday season. No, I am not putting my Christmas tree up at this very moment, but it always reminds me of the start of another school year, promises ahead and the journey to spring.

I love the scarfs, the coats, the gloves and the boots, oh yes I love the boots. Putting logs on the fire, curling up with a good book with an equally wonderful blanket and having popcorn with the perfect movie are the ingredients to my cherished time of the year. It also will be the most dreaded time as this was the beginning of the end for Joe's life.

How does it always happen that way? Your favorite collides with your worst. Could it be that you are given the opportunity to hold on to the wonderful memories desperately pushing aside your nightmares? It is a chance for us to go into dormancy to emerge on the other end of renewal? I wish I had all the answers but I don't, so I will feel my way through every day and with a bit of luck come out on the other end wiser.

Just Thinking Out loud

We all have hurdles and tragedies throughout our lives. Heck we live eighty or ninety years so it would be hard to avoid them over that long of a life span. We live daily with the loss of Joe, but others also experience set backs for their families. Maybe it is losing a job, or dealing with the crush of dwindling incomes due to the recession, and yes even an illness or a death. It could be helping your child move on after a poor decision or listening while they try to find their way.

Whatever the situation, the simplicity of falling into our own lives is so easy we become oblivious to the struggles of others and induces shock upon hearing grievous news. Our family has spent the past eight months re-entering life, catching up to those around us who have been sprinting daily while we were stuck in slow motion. And as I reflect back I remember how that one phone call, text or email offered connection. Most of the time it was nothing more than "been thinking about you". No response was ever expected, yet it could make or break our day.

Who Would have Thought

My stomach has been churning, my heart has been in my throat as I have relived the weekend we received the news that Joe was dying. I couldn't sleep, I pushed myself to hard with my training for our 5k. My body ached and I tried so hard to find comfort, but it was elusive, always just out of my grasp, a step away.

But comfort came to me tonight in the form a dinner with family. It was a night of remembering, not of Joe, but of the wonderful summers in Scituate, my sleepy home town on the East coast. There were stories of Maria's subs, launching our sail boat, sailing in the Atlantic Ocean and attending our step grandfather's recognition dinner for the National Science Foundation at the State Department.

You just never know in times of your deepest grief where you find the reprieve, the allowance of laughter, the ability to remember without tears. For all of you that give us that gift we are forever grateful.

Mary Poppins

To be honest I have never been a fan of the Mary Poppins movie, but since these tickets were included with our season passes we went to see the stage play. Well, knock me over with a feather; it was fantastic. From the staging to the singing and dancing it took my breath away. My favorite scene was "Step In Time". And as I was taking it all in I thought Joe, Tony and David would love this play.

All three of them are Disney fans, with their favorite being Beauty and the Beast. It was the animation innovation that caught their attention and also the messages behind the stories. Mary Poppins is all about family and the choices we make. What a wonderful gift to have that ability to tell those stories through animation, stage plays and incredible lyrics. Thanks Walt.

Agitation

I can't put my finger on my agitation this week. Everything bugs me, even the person at the grocery check out, who unfortunately has been the recipient of my nastiness. I have a scowl on my face and every movement is a huge effort. I feel the heaviness on my shoulders and my gait once again. What the heck is going on? Why is this happening?

And then the light bulb went on. This is the week we received the news that Joe's cancer had recurred, the week of our final decision, the week we knew he was dying. It was the week he headed to Penn to say goodbye to his friends, the week we drove to McCallie to tell Tony and David the news. The week his surgeon said no more, and I sat in my car, alone, discussing Joe's options with his oncologist.

The week I told Joe how much we loved him and would miss him forever.