Let Them Know Love...

My mom and I went to see a movie tonight before I go back to school tomorrow. We saw "Blind Spot" and it was cute. But that's not what I'm in the mood to write about. On the way home, we decided to listen to Christmas music. Granted, it was 50 degrees out and pouring down rain, a little difficult to get into that spirit, but we decided to anyway.

Nothing was on the radio, the XM Christmas station really sucked, and Delilah depresses me. Side note, hello, love is not depressing. Stop making it all about sadness and loss and all that. Especially at night playing Christmas music. Ok, back on topic. I found a CD in the visor case that I had burned many many years ago, Celine Dion's "These Are the Special Times". Wonderful, wonderful CD.

But what I want to talk about is the story behind why that CD was there. When I was in middle school and riding the bus to school everyday, I was having a lot of problems with my hip because of it. So, my Grandma decided that she would pick me up from school everyday so I didn't have to ride it. From then on, all the way through high school, my Grandma picked me up from school. It's one of the reasons that I didn't want to get my license (besides the whole, I could easily become paralyzed at any given time, thing). I loved spending that time with her. Just she and I. Every single day, even if it was only for a half hour. That time was ours.

She would bring me an apple and some orange juice, and I would supply the music. I've always been extremely good at finding new and exciting stuff. Norah Jones was our absolute favorite, and in fact, one of the last things she said to me, the last real conversation we had the last night she was alive, she spouted off lyrics to her favorite Norah Jones song and told me that she was glad we shared so many special songs together. For her viewing, I made a playlist, and a lot of the songs on that it were ones that she and I shared during those times. But mostly, we indulged in year-round Christmas tunes and didn't care what anybody else thought about it. We'd sing loud and proud, bumping along listening to Trans-Siberian Orchestra, Amy Grant, Kenny G, or any other wonderful holiday music we could get our hands on. Had I not had that time every day after school, I would have been miserable. She made life those four years.

Well, all the CDs that I made her are still up in the visor of her car, which is now my mother's. I looked up and grabbed the Celine Dion CD and told my mom we should listen to it. She wondered how it got there and when I told her the story, she had no idea about our little tradition. The first song that came on was this: http://blip.fm/profile/LLLEB08/blip/28661620/Celine_Dion-Dont_Save_It_All_For_Christmas_Day

(you can click on the link, press play at the top, and listen). And I'm not ashamed to admit, it made me cry. The lyrics are pretty powerful. And they basically explain exactly how my Grandma lived every single day of her life. Here is a link to the lyrics, I suggest you go through them, truly an inspiring message. http://tinyurl.com/y9g7hph

You know, I firmly believe we all have a soul mate. Someone who we are destined to have some unreal connection with. Not necessarily someone made just for us to spend the rest of our lives with (marriage, the whole lot), but someone who is destined to find us, share a piece of themselves with us, and whom we are destined to love. I know all of you have someone who made such an impact on your life you will never forget them. We all do. For me, that person was my Grandmother. And for her to be that person for me, recognize it, embrace it, was better than anything anybody could ever do for me ever again. Sure she was my Grandma, sure she had to love me because we're family, but that's not what our relationship was about. It was so much more.

She was my best friend. She understood me. Helped me grow. Taught me things about life, about people, about love, things that molded me into the person I am today. Not because she had to, most people's Grandma's don't really take it upon themselves to do all she did for me. She saw potential, she saw herself in my eyes, and she took it upon herself to give me the tools to become more. She raised me to go above and beyond. To love harder, care more, help more, and find the potential and the good in all people and show it to them. She did all that, for me.

When that song came up, not only did I miss the time she and I spent together in that car listening to that Christmas music, but I also missed her. I missed glancing over and smiling because I could see her singing along out of the corner of my eye. A woman who, for all intensive purposes, hated singing. She always sang with me and we both pretended like the other wasn't singing. I missed that. I miss the life I lived when she was here. I missed all the little details about the time we shared together, and I cried.

You know, it's been a little over 18 months since she died. About 556 days, to be exact. Every single one of those days has been a struggle. But of those 556 days, I've found 556 reasons to be thankful for the 7,561 days that I got to spend with her. Every time I think of a tiny detail about her, my heart swells. Not out of pain, but out of pride and thankfulness. Sure, it hurts like hell to be without her. It hurts every second. But it would have hurt even worse to never have had her. And until the day I die, I will give thanks for that time.

People always say that another person will never fill a void in your heart. That searching for someone to love you will never fill it, and you will search for more things to ease that void. In fact, we had a sermon about that on Thanksgiving Eve. But you know, when she was alive, I was whole. I never felt a void, I never felt like something was missing. Until she died. And then the void was there. But you know, I'm not searching to fill it. Because that void reminds me how much I lost. In a good way, not a bad. By remembering how much I lost, I am remembering how much I had. Not a day goes by I don't smile remembering her. Not a day goes by I wish I could crawl up next to her on the couch with my head on her lap and just be. Not one single day goes by I don't long for one of her hugs. And not one second goes by that I don't miss her.

I know a lot of my posts pertain to her death, or my sadness because of her death. But let me tell you something, those things are relevant to who I am. You may or may not care about that stuff in my life, you may think it's dramatic, boring, etc. But her life shaped who I became and who I am becoming every day. For that, I'm thankful. Sure, I talk about her death a lot. But not because I'm lingering in the past. But more because I'm holding onto that for the future. Thinking about her life is different than thinking about her death. Her death reminds me that her legacy lives on in me. I only hope that I am worthy of that legacy and that I am doing her proud. So yes, my Grandma died, and yes I'm going to talk about it, but my Grandma also lives, she lives on in me.

Because I'm A Dork.

Ok so, every once in a while, I get sucked into a TV show and I get obsessed. Maybe once every few months or so, most especially when I need to escape my own brain. I'll pick a random show and watch every episode of every season. And yes, I realize I have no life. But seriously, I dare anyone to live the last 2 years of my life and not find a vice. So, you can suck it. Anyway, this is why I love this show. The writing in season five and six is absolutely amazing. I can't get enough of it! It's thought provoking, funny, cute, sexy, smart. I was sorta disappointed and almost gave up on it because it started to tank. But low and behold...and because I'm such a nerd, here are some of my favorite quotes.

"Most people think that I was named for the state, but it's not true, I was named for a battle ship. The U.S.S. Arizona. My grandfather was serving on the Arizona when the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor, and he saved nineteen men before he drowned. Pretty much everything my father did his whole life was about honoring that sacrifice. I was raised to be a good man in a storm. Raised to love my country. Love my family. Protect the things I love. When my father, Colonel Daniel Robinson of the United States Marine Corps, heard that I was a lesbian he said he only had one question. I was prepared for "How fast can you get the hell out of my house?" But instead, it was "Are you still who I raised you to be?" My father believes in country the way that you believe in God. And my father is not a man who bends, but he bent for me because I am his daughter. I'm a good man in a storm... I love your daughter. And I protect the things I love. Not that I need too, she doesn't need it. She's strong, and caring, and honorable. And she's who you raised her to be."

- Dr. Arizona Robbins

Season 6; Episode 5

"Grief may be a thing we all have in common, but it looks different on everyone. It isn't just death we have to grieve. It's life. It's loss. It's change. And when we wonder why it has to suck so much sometimes, why it has to hurt so bad, the thing we gotta try to remember is that it can turn on a dime. That's how you stay alive. When it hurts so much you can't breathe, that's how you survive. By remembering that one day, somehow, impossibly, you won't feel this way, it wont hurt this much. Grief comes at its own time for everyone, in its own way. So the best we can do, the best anyone can do, is try for honesty. The really crappy thing, the very worst part of grief, is that you can't control it. The best we can do is let ourselves feel it when it comes, and let it go when we can. The very worst part is that the minute you think you're past it, it starts all over again. And always, every time, it takes your breath away. There are five stages of grief. They look different on all of us, but there are always five. Denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. Acceptance."

- Entire cast

Season 6; Episode 1 & 2

"When something begins, you generally have no idea how it's going to end. The house you're going to sell becomes your home, the roommates you were forced to take in become your family and the one night stand you were determined to forget becomes the love of your life.. We spend our whole lives worrying about the future, planning for the future, trying to predict the future, as if figuring it out will cushion the blow. But the future is always changing. The future is the home of our deepest fears and wildest hopes. But one thing is certain when it finally reveals itself. The future is never the way we imagined it."

- Dr. Merideth Grey

Season 6; Episode 22

"I am mad at you. And, I'm crying because you're the boss. My boss. Which brings up issues of authority and my dad, who you kind of remind me of. Not that you're old, but you command respect. People respect you. I mean, I know I do and I know Bailey does. Which is why I'm mad. Because, it's wrong Sir. It's wrong and mean to use a robot to lure Dr. Bailey back into general surgery, because I don't have a robot. All I have are little kids, and they're not as fun as a robot. And they're not shiny, and new, and silver, and they don't have things coming out of their belly buttons. But, I will fight you, and I will win. Sir."

- Dr. Arizona Robbins

Season 5; Episode 22

"You never know the biggest day of your life is the biggest day. Not until it's happening. You don't recognize the biggest day of your life, not until you're right in the middle of it. The day you commit to something or someone. The day you get your heart broken. The day you meet your soul mate. The day you realize there's not enough time, because you wanna live forever. Those are the biggest days. The perfect days."

- Dr. Izzy Stevens

Season 5; Episode 21

"According to Elisabeth Kubler-Ross, when we're dying or have suffered a catastrophic loss, we all move through five distinct stages of grief. We go into denial because the loss is so unthinkable we can't imagine it's true. We become angry with everyone, angry with survivors, angry with ourselves. Then we bargain. We beg. We plead. We offer everything we have, we offer our souls in exchange for just one more day. When the bargaining has failed and the anger is too hard to maintain, we fall into depression, despair, until finally we have to accept that we've done everything we can. We let go. We let go and move into acceptance."

- Dr. Meredith Grey

Season 6; Episode 1

“People have scars. In all sorts of unexpected places. Like secret roadmaps of their personal histories. Diagrams of all their old wounds. Most of our wounds heal, leaving nothing behind but a scar. But some of them don’t. Some wounds we carry with us everywhere and though the cut’s long gone, the pain still lingers.”

“Did you say it? ‘I love you. I don’t ever want to live without you. You changed my life.’ Did you say it? Make a plan. Set a goal. Work toward it, but every now and then, look around; Drink it in ‘cause this is it. It might all be gone tomorrow.”

- Dr. Meredith Grey

Season 5; Episode 24

"Today's the day my life begins. All my life I've been just me. Just a smart mouth kid. Today I become a man. Today I become a husband. Today I become accountable to someone other than myself. Today I become accountable to you. To our future. To all the possibilities that a marriage has to offer. Together, no matter what happens, I'll be ready. For anything. For everything. To take on life, to take on love. To take on possibility and responsibility."

- Dr. Alex Karev

Season 5; Episode 21

"We begin life with few obligations. We pledge allegiance to the flag. We swear to return our library books. But as we get older we take vows, make promises, get burden by commitments, to do no harm, to tell the truth and nothing but, to love, to cherish till death do us part. So we just keep running up the tab 'til we owe everything to everybody and suddenly..."

- Dr. Meredith Grey

Season 5; Episode

Thanksgiving

I've been thinking about a lot of stuff recently. I'm not sure why or what triggers it, but I reach a point every now and then where I just analyze things. Everything, anything, you name it, I think about it. I read annoying cutesy and philosophical quotes and think about love and life and living. It's just a part of who I am.

I was thinking about my life today. I spent time with and watched my family all day and night yesterday. It's hard for me, to be around my extended family. A lot has happened in the last year in a half. And I've grown closer to each and every one of them. I've seen some of them of them for the very first time in that time, and they've seen me. For who I am. And our relationship has changed for the better. My whole life, I never fit in with my family. I sat alone in the corner and watched. It's just how I grew up. But now, I'm an adult. And now, they want me in the mix of things. They want me there. My aunt persistently, for a good five minutes, tried to get me to sit next to her on the couch last night. She wanted me to sit with her she said, and we sat there, hand in hand, for a good part of the night. I felt loved and special and important to her, for one of the first times in my life. But still, even with these changes, it's still hard to be around them. Mostly because of the voids on both sides. Because of the loss. It's hard not to feel that, and I do, all the time.

When my Grandpa was at Hospice, I believe it was his last day alive, I had stayed with my Grandma so that my Aunt's and Uncles and dad could stay with my Grandpa and not have to worry about what was going on at home. I remember that day like it was yesterday. That was the day my two aunt's and I had to tell my Grandma that my Grandpa was going to die, not in a year or a month, but probably that night. And after we told her, she sobbed, and she sobbed, and she asked to be left alone. I couldn't handle it. I couldn't handle it because I knew what she was feeling, that void creeping up, that knowledge that it was the end. I had been there only a year before, and I have been there every single day since then. It's not something you ever get over. That feeling. That emptiness.

I couldn't handle the pain she was feeling, and I had to get away from it. I ran up the stairs, closed the door to the farthest room away from where she was and just paced. I couldn't cry, I didn't know how to cry, I just paced and paced, trying not to punch something, trying not to be present in my own life in that moment. It wasn't my moment, it wasn't my turn to cry, just like a year ago, it was my turn to stand tall and be strong. I must have been gone a while, because my aunt came up to try and find me. I'm always there, even if I'm quiet in the corner, I'm always there, no matter what. So when I left, I can't tell you how thankful I was that she noticed and came to find me. You know what the first thing she said to me was? "I was looking for you and couldn't find you, I was worried, are you ok?". My aunt, who had exhausted herself doing the same thing I had done with my Grandma, she came to see how I was, because she recognized how hard the situation had to be on me. Not only was I losing my Grandfather, but it was in the same fashion I had lost my Grandmother. A year, only a year, it was too soon, too painfully soon.

She came up and gave me a hug. And you know what she did? She sat with me. I told her I didn't know what I was supposed to feel because I had never gotten a chance to know him until the last few days of his life. That I stayed with him overnight while my Grandma was in the hospital (their roles reversed completely in less than 72 hours) because I knew he would tell me his story. Because I knew that if I volunteered, he would know I loved him. And I wanted to be there, for him, because he was my Grandfather. He contributed to my existence, my childhood, my adulthood, even in the smallest of ways, he was a part of me. And I also wanted to be there for my family, because out of almost all of them, I was qualified to handle the death up close. They'd never done it before, I had. If I would or could do anything for them my entire life to show them I loved them all, I knew it was that.

I told her I didn't know if I had a right to be sad, because I had to be strong for my dad and for her and my other aunt who had only the night before, had a nervous breakdown while she and I talked. The night before when we had made amends for something that caused us not to talk for 6 years. I told her I wanted to be strong for her, because even though she and I weren't close, she was my Godmother, and just because we weren't, it didn't mean I didn't want to be. It didn't mean I hadn't longed for it my entire life. I told her that we may not be close now, but there was room in my heart if she wanted in it. And so, we talked. We sat and talked for at least three hours. Alone. She told her about her life, that she and my uncle had separated. She told me about her growing up, she tried to explain to me and assure me that even though I never felt loved growing up by my Grandparents, they always loved me, and so did she. And we talked, and we talked, just the two of us. The course of that last week of his life changed my life. It truly did. I made amends, I opened my heart, I mourned, I connected with all of my cousins on a whole different level, I cried, I learned so much about my family, even though it was painful, it was life changing, and it was kind of amazing. That was the big thing in my life this year.

Needless to say, holidays with extended family make me think about death. A lot. And you know, I'm not afraid to die. I'm only twenty-two, sure, but if I died tomorrow, I would have no regrets. I've loved someone wholeheartedly who wasn't family, I was loved back. I experienced a broken heart, I broke someone's heart. I found love again after that broken heart. I've loved hard, I've protected harder. I've stood up for people and things I believed in. I made friends, I found some true ones. I've learned to trust people. I've lost the most important person in my life, and I survived it, grew from it, learned from it. I've become close to my brother, whom I hated my entire childhood. I graduated high school, and I'm close to graduating college. I found things I love enough to be passionate about. I've found a best friend. I've moved away from home, lived in another state, and grew up in the process. I became close to my parents because I had the courage to move away. I was able to repay my Grandmother for almost twenty-one years of pure love by being there for her while she died. I found myself, loved myself, and accepted myself for everything I am. I discovered I was gay, came out to all of my family and was accepted by every one of them. I had enough courage to love myself anyway, even if others wouldn't because of "what I am".

I worked my dream job, found my true calling, found what I was good at, succeeded, and made a difference and an impression. I've traveled the country, went to England, and befriended people from all over the world. I've read books about many things, I've studied the past, become a historian, I've listened to good music, eaten good food, laughed so hard I cried many times. I've written about hundreds of topics, written a book or two, written poetry, contributed culturally, even in the smallest of ways. I've smiled, I've cried, I've hugged, I've listened, I've been compassionate, I've made a difference to someone, I've changed someone for the better. I've been selfish, and unselfish, and learned when it is the right time for both things. I've been in excruciating physical pain, which has made me appreciate every second of life that isn't associated with it. I've faced intolerance, discrimination, and cruelty, but held my head high. I've watched the sunrise and set with someone I loved. I've sat outside and looked at the stars. I've walked through and spent time in nature, and appreciated it's beauty. I've been thankful, I've been loved, I've been encouraged, I've been appreciated, I've been complimented, I've been all these little tiny baby details that people sometimes forget on a daily basis.

Above all else, all the shit that goes on, all the loneliness, all the pain, all the sadness as of late, regardless, I have lived. For twenty-two years I've lived a good life. I've done things and learned things that some never ever get to do their entire lives. Above all else, I am happy. And you know, if I were to die tomorrow, the first thing I'd do after giving my Grandmother and Grandfather the biggest hugs, and tell them how much I missed them...would be to say thank you. Just, thank you.

Insomnia

Let me tell you a story of one of the worst things, ever. Chronic insomnia. To be exhausted, but not able to do anything about it, that helplessness, totally no fun. At all. This has been, continually, a problem I've had my whole life. I've never slept. And when I have, they certainly have never been normal hours. I'm a 6 am- noon kind of person (if I'm exceptionally lucky and have no classes, no responsibilities, no life). But, not by choice.

Like, tonight for instance. I decided, I'll go to bed at 11, get up early, work on my drawing a bit more, everything will be hunky dory. I was excited. So, in bed I was at 10:45…ok I never generally left bed today (4 day weekends at school are awful), but I had the teeth brushed, the fan on, the lights off, the computer closed, music off, PJs on (never really got out of those - minus the shower! today either, who am I kidding?), and I was ready for bed. Now usually, if I'm tired enough, I can be asleep in about half hour to forty-five minutes. I planned accordingly. So there I laid, my mind was blank (another problem most nights!) and I had nowhere to go or be or do or any of that. So, naturally, a normal person would drift off into sleep and dream lovely things for 7 or 8 hours, right? Well, not me. I laid there, and laid there, and laid there, until I basically got so bored trying to fall asleep, I gave up. So here it is, 6 (7) in the morning and I'm not only wide awake, but totally not happy about it. Hence the rant.

I mean, seriously, what the hell? My mom was having a conversation with a dear friend of ours when she visited me in Maryland over the summer, and I learned that I have never, ever spelt through the night. Not when I was a baby, not when I was a child, never. It's a bit pathetic. Granted, when I was a teenager, I pushed those bedtimes to the max, but what kid doesn't? And I totally could do it too, why not? Most kids, push it until midnight. I pushed it until 2, 3, 4 in the morning. Back in the day when I had to be up for school at 6:15 every morning. Not smart, right? I am able to function on about 2 hours of sleep. When discussing this in my Psychology class a few weeks ago, the teacher all but called me a freak. You must get sick often, non? Nope, never get sick. You must nap during the day. Nope, don't do that either. Once I'm up, I'm up. She's like, wow, bl-ok then, you're one lucky girl, next. Really? I'd rather sleep, thank you.

Now, most would say, sleeping pills! PMs! I say, hell to the no. Why? One Advil or Tylenol PM will knock me out. Cold. For about 24 hours. No exaggeration. So what happens when I take half? They do nothing. I just can't do it, can't take them even if I wanted to. I've been to doctors, nothing is wrong with me, I'm just not wired right or something. I don't know. But it sucks. It's also why I make friends in different time zones, and why I had a 4 year successful Californian long distance relationship, I'm up anyway, why not? Over the summer, when I was working like 17 hour days (uhg, ridiculous), I would be so exhausted I could hardly function. I was in bed by 9:30 and up at 5. But, you'd think as soon as my head would hit the pillow, I'd be out cold. Solid 8ish hours of sleep, right? Wrong. Asleep no earlier than 2:30, and had to be up no later than 5. It freaking sucked. The experience was wonderful, but I swear, it about killed me.

Now, I've tried everything under the sun to try and remedy this little predicament I've, well, honestly, been born with. I tried reading before bed, I tried all the various levels of noises (white, purple, etc.), tried classical music, thunderstorms, computer reading, drawing, writing, walking really late, different pillows, different bedding, blankets, different room temperatures (I do know I have nightmares without a fan - but I have to GET to sleep first), different bed height variations, different clothes, etc. You name it, I've tried it to fix this shit. Nothing helps.

So yes, you wanna know why I'm always awake? Me too. Me to the freaking too. I also would like to know how much more of a freak I can be on a regular basis. I know, right?

What Is Love?

"Love isn't about words,

I'm full of words, I'm a writer, I'm made of words.

Love is more than that.

Love is devotion.

Unplanned, unsaid, unselfish, and unexplained.

Nothing should be of more importance than your happiness to me.

And it isn't.

I am unquestioningly devoted to you."

And that is how I feel, every single day.

Even though I must remain anonymous.

I shall not remain so here.