So maybe you missed me? (Good, because I am totally sick of myself lately.)
If you're up at the crack of dawn like I'm often forced to be due to the one child who didn't get my sleeping in gene, (that means you Loogoo), and you happen to be in and around the Toronto area, I'll be on Global News Morning this morning (Thursday the 18th) at 8:15 am-ish. (Yes, and I'm doing it on 4 hours of sleep thanks to two sick kids and a long story to come.)
Check it out. If you're free on Friday, come see me talk at the Fall Home Show. I'm giving a workshop at 2pm and 3pm on home decor trends for moms. So you see? I may not be blogging that much these days, but I still offer plenty of opportunities to laugh at me.
If you're interested in going to the Home Show, I have tickets and would happily leave them at a Will Call window for you. Drop me an email.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Blame Eckhart Tolle
First off, thanks to everyone for their kind wishes and song suggestions. I'll be working on that CD this week. Will post the playlists once they're complete.
I had no internet at home for about a week and it's been strangely liberating. Though, my pretty, pretty NEW SITE just launched and I couldn't examine it with a microscopic editorial eye once it went live. But that was OK too. Because my job and what we write about is meant to be fun, not save lives. Have to remember to unplug from the matrix every now and again.
I spent a week grieving for someone I barely knew. I was surprised at what emotions it all dredged up. I had never been to a Jewish funeral before, so I didn't know about the ritual where everyone at the cemetery picks up a shovel to dump earth on the casket. It shook me pretty hard. But I gotta say, Jews do a good funeral. The service was as beautiful as something like that can be. The digging earth thing is meant to be a debt that cannot be repaid. I liked the sentiment in that. But watching your friend be essentially widowed at 33? Yeah, can't say I want to do that again anytime soon. It was absolutely horrible.
One of Jordan's sisters is expecting. I can't imagine going through such grief while pregnant. Yet the writer in me often forces my mind to "go there." My mother claims I was overly compassionate even at a very young age. I find it a burden, to feel things so intensely, to forever be putting myself in the shoes of others -- sometimes it's so taxing. And the imagination of a writer leads you to some dark places. So I've been trying very hard to be conscious of my thought patterns, careful not to "water the seeds of insanity and have them flower in the living room of my consciousness," or whatever awesome imagery my homey attached to my hysteria/anxiety two years ago. Hence my absence.
I've been reading a lot of Eckhart Tolle, listening to the Beatles, thinking about everything, particularly the future and what life is going to be like once Greenland melts. I've been thinking about how I'd like to live my life and what's important. I've been thinking of the things I do that feed my ego, and how I need to be more present in the everyday. It's a process, but I'm happy to be on a journey that (if all goes well) should end with me being less freaked out about things and having a better understanding of my silly self.
The other night I started thinking about killing my ego. Squashing it, trying to silence it forever. Trying to liberate myself from the incessant thoughts that go through my head so that I can be free to enjoy life for what it is -- a drop in an ocean. So, in these discussions with my husband, I came up with stopping blogging.
Now don't get uppity. Clearly I'm here. I'm not suddenly going to disappear of the face of the interweb. (I'm far too Google-able for that.) But I think there has to be some kind of compromise if I'm ever going to rid myself from the noise inside my head so I can just be me. These are the types of deep thoughts I've been weighing after the crazy events of the last three weeks. (Don't call Jack Handy just yet.)
But you know what? Taking two weeks away from this blog (and the various other ones I contribute to on occasion) to focus on what's most important in my life was a valuable exercise. My work is taking up a lot of my time right now. The kids take up the rest. Add one more "thing" to that equation and you start to forget to see what's really around you.
It's been good taking time to go to the beach, stooping to collect beach glass, laughing when Nate calls them diamonds. Really laughing -- I mean the most liberating laugh -- when Loogoo ends up naked in a lake you would have never swam in yourself growing up. (Letting go of my neurotic fears of e-coli and seagull crap was so freeing! Really.) It's been good folding laundry with my soulmate, while we catch up on old faves (Yay! Entourage!) and take in a new show or two. (Tru Blood anyone? What'd you think?) We even had an incredible date this past week.
On the other hand, in being away from blogs and blogging, I also realized that revisiting those moments by writing them down allows me to appreciate them yet again, with a new perspective. And I'm just not ready to give that up yet. Stay tuned.
I had no internet at home for about a week and it's been strangely liberating. Though, my pretty, pretty NEW SITE just launched and I couldn't examine it with a microscopic editorial eye once it went live. But that was OK too. Because my job and what we write about is meant to be fun, not save lives. Have to remember to unplug from the matrix every now and again.
I spent a week grieving for someone I barely knew. I was surprised at what emotions it all dredged up. I had never been to a Jewish funeral before, so I didn't know about the ritual where everyone at the cemetery picks up a shovel to dump earth on the casket. It shook me pretty hard. But I gotta say, Jews do a good funeral. The service was as beautiful as something like that can be. The digging earth thing is meant to be a debt that cannot be repaid. I liked the sentiment in that. But watching your friend be essentially widowed at 33? Yeah, can't say I want to do that again anytime soon. It was absolutely horrible.
One of Jordan's sisters is expecting. I can't imagine going through such grief while pregnant. Yet the writer in me often forces my mind to "go there." My mother claims I was overly compassionate even at a very young age. I find it a burden, to feel things so intensely, to forever be putting myself in the shoes of others -- sometimes it's so taxing. And the imagination of a writer leads you to some dark places. So I've been trying very hard to be conscious of my thought patterns, careful not to "water the seeds of insanity and have them flower in the living room of my consciousness," or whatever awesome imagery my homey attached to my hysteria/anxiety two years ago. Hence my absence.
I've been reading a lot of Eckhart Tolle, listening to the Beatles, thinking about everything, particularly the future and what life is going to be like once Greenland melts. I've been thinking about how I'd like to live my life and what's important. I've been thinking of the things I do that feed my ego, and how I need to be more present in the everyday. It's a process, but I'm happy to be on a journey that (if all goes well) should end with me being less freaked out about things and having a better understanding of my silly self.
The other night I started thinking about killing my ego. Squashing it, trying to silence it forever. Trying to liberate myself from the incessant thoughts that go through my head so that I can be free to enjoy life for what it is -- a drop in an ocean. So, in these discussions with my husband, I came up with stopping blogging.
Now don't get uppity. Clearly I'm here. I'm not suddenly going to disappear of the face of the interweb. (I'm far too Google-able for that.) But I think there has to be some kind of compromise if I'm ever going to rid myself from the noise inside my head so I can just be me. These are the types of deep thoughts I've been weighing after the crazy events of the last three weeks. (Don't call Jack Handy just yet.)
But you know what? Taking two weeks away from this blog (and the various other ones I contribute to on occasion) to focus on what's most important in my life was a valuable exercise. My work is taking up a lot of my time right now. The kids take up the rest. Add one more "thing" to that equation and you start to forget to see what's really around you.
It's been good taking time to go to the beach, stooping to collect beach glass, laughing when Nate calls them diamonds. Really laughing -- I mean the most liberating laugh -- when Loogoo ends up naked in a lake you would have never swam in yourself growing up. (Letting go of my neurotic fears of e-coli and seagull crap was so freeing! Really.) It's been good folding laundry with my soulmate, while we catch up on old faves (Yay! Entourage!) and take in a new show or two. (Tru Blood anyone? What'd you think?) We even had an incredible date this past week.
On the other hand, in being away from blogs and blogging, I also realized that revisiting those moments by writing them down allows me to appreciate them yet again, with a new perspective. And I'm just not ready to give that up yet. Stay tuned.
Tuesday, September 02, 2008
The evening after the day after the night before
Thanks for all your messages and suggestions. Between the three of us (my sister, my sister's BFF and myself) we managed to reach Ana. (Or bug her until she caved and decided she was ready for us.)
The evening air was perfect tonight as I walked up to the patio where my sister and Ana were sitting. I was shocked to see them smiling and laughing as I walked up. "I am so sorry." I hugged her tightly. "You're smiling. It's weird."
"Ana was just telling me how Jordan was cracking jokes about the nurses last week," my sister jumped in, trying to suggest to me that I should continue with this conversation. I was glad to join in, though I had a few questions about what exactly had transpired.
He had been up and walking. He was joking and making them laugh. Ana went to her mother's to sleep, I suppose. When his mother came to see him Saturday morning, he was complaining of a severe headache. She was fumbling for some Advil, but he was suggesting it was much worse, and then he passed out. The tests showed a hemorrhage in his brain, one that was aggravated by the blood thinners he was on and could not be treated because of the leukemia. So they waited for him to die.
I can only imagine what happens to a family once they get this kind of news. I can only imagine lying next to the man you love, trying to comfort him in his final moments. Trying to memorize everything about him physically. As the hours passed, I imagine that you'd come to the conclusion that the body is just a vessel and that there's no point in trying to embed a mole on someone's wrist into your brain. Then minutes later you might revert to wanting to keep that mole so fresh in your mind.
She was with him when life left his body. She says it was really good for her and I can believe it. I think there must be something beautiful when watching someone pass into the unknown. It's not something I'd want to buy tickets to, but I can see how that would help give you closure. I hope I can do that with my parents when the time comes. I never ever want to do that with my children. But if I was faced with it, I hope I'd have the strength to.
My friend looked gaunt and tired, but her smile is so dazzling that you can't help but get caught up in it. We threw around crazy ideas, like meeting my sis and her BFF in Prague for the weekend next month in the middle of their crazy Euro vacation. I forgot about my own responsibilities for a second. The old Nadine would not have thought twice. This Nadine also would not hesitate. You say tragedy, I see road trip. But this Nadine apparently has a master who did not think twice before telling her it wasn't an option due to financial constraints. (No. I'm not bitter about that at all.)
We caught Ana on an up day. Tomorrow, the funeral, will undoubtedly be a down one. I felt good after our meet up and on the drive home I thought of the beautiful Flaming Lips song "Do You Realize" which Jan played for me over and over to help me face my anxiety about death during my panic attacks.
That got me thinking. I'd like to give her two CDs. One with really beautiful sad songs that make you think about life and love and death, to cry to when she feels like it -- everyone needs one of those. I often listen to the Niagara, Niagara soundtrack when I want a good sob. Lucinda Williams "Sharp Cutting Wings" is on that and it fills me with a kind of happy melancholy. When Ana's brother died, I listened to Sade's "Hurts Like Brand New Shoes" over and over again and sobbed over how crap it was that Ana had to go through losing a sibling. As EJ says, "Sad songs they say so much." (Don't mess with EJ, he's been through it all.)
The other CD should have really, really fun songs that make you want to dance and be happy. (Right now I am loving that radio hit "Closer"... "I just can't stop, I just can't stop..." So good!)
So over to you Internets. You always have the best suggestions. (I know Kristin trusts you implicitly when it comes to making CDs.) What should I put on these disks? I'll publish the playlist once we have it nailed down.
The evening air was perfect tonight as I walked up to the patio where my sister and Ana were sitting. I was shocked to see them smiling and laughing as I walked up. "I am so sorry." I hugged her tightly. "You're smiling. It's weird."
"Ana was just telling me how Jordan was cracking jokes about the nurses last week," my sister jumped in, trying to suggest to me that I should continue with this conversation. I was glad to join in, though I had a few questions about what exactly had transpired.
He had been up and walking. He was joking and making them laugh. Ana went to her mother's to sleep, I suppose. When his mother came to see him Saturday morning, he was complaining of a severe headache. She was fumbling for some Advil, but he was suggesting it was much worse, and then he passed out. The tests showed a hemorrhage in his brain, one that was aggravated by the blood thinners he was on and could not be treated because of the leukemia. So they waited for him to die.
I can only imagine what happens to a family once they get this kind of news. I can only imagine lying next to the man you love, trying to comfort him in his final moments. Trying to memorize everything about him physically. As the hours passed, I imagine that you'd come to the conclusion that the body is just a vessel and that there's no point in trying to embed a mole on someone's wrist into your brain. Then minutes later you might revert to wanting to keep that mole so fresh in your mind.
She was with him when life left his body. She says it was really good for her and I can believe it. I think there must be something beautiful when watching someone pass into the unknown. It's not something I'd want to buy tickets to, but I can see how that would help give you closure. I hope I can do that with my parents when the time comes. I never ever want to do that with my children. But if I was faced with it, I hope I'd have the strength to.
My friend looked gaunt and tired, but her smile is so dazzling that you can't help but get caught up in it. We threw around crazy ideas, like meeting my sis and her BFF in Prague for the weekend next month in the middle of their crazy Euro vacation. I forgot about my own responsibilities for a second. The old Nadine would not have thought twice. This Nadine also would not hesitate. You say tragedy, I see road trip. But this Nadine apparently has a master who did not think twice before telling her it wasn't an option due to financial constraints. (No. I'm not bitter about that at all.)
We caught Ana on an up day. Tomorrow, the funeral, will undoubtedly be a down one. I felt good after our meet up and on the drive home I thought of the beautiful Flaming Lips song "Do You Realize" which Jan played for me over and over to help me face my anxiety about death during my panic attacks.
That got me thinking. I'd like to give her two CDs. One with really beautiful sad songs that make you think about life and love and death, to cry to when she feels like it -- everyone needs one of those. I often listen to the Niagara, Niagara soundtrack when I want a good sob. Lucinda Williams "Sharp Cutting Wings" is on that and it fills me with a kind of happy melancholy. When Ana's brother died, I listened to Sade's "Hurts Like Brand New Shoes" over and over again and sobbed over how crap it was that Ana had to go through losing a sibling. As EJ says, "Sad songs they say so much." (Don't mess with EJ, he's been through it all.)
The other CD should have really, really fun songs that make you want to dance and be happy. (Right now I am loving that radio hit "Closer"... "I just can't stop, I just can't stop..." So good!)
So over to you Internets. You always have the best suggestions. (I know Kristin trusts you implicitly when it comes to making CDs.) What should I put on these disks? I'll publish the playlist once we have it nailed down.
Monday, September 01, 2008
Black Monday
My friend Ana's boyfriend, the one who was battling leukemia, succumbed to complications from his treatment last night. Today is her 33 birthday. I feel numb and awful and have no clue what to say to her that could possibly make this better.
I got a phone call from my sister. She was crying, which is extremely out of character for her, so it was instantly jarring. "Are you OK? What happened?!"
"Jordan died," she burbled. "Ana sent a text this morning." I hadn't received it yet -- my phone was upstairs. Now the text message is burning a hole in my phone with the awful announcement and I don't know what to do with it.
So I am here in my public private sanctuary, hammering out the words because I don't know how else to deal.
My friend is beautiful -- and I mean model beautiful -- and wicked smart. I have known her since I was 19. A 15 year friendship. She has suffered a lot of loss over the years, including her brother, who passed away from a rare cancer when she was only 20 or 21. We left for Acapulco two weeks later and she tried to deal with her grief in the middle of foam parties, pina coladas and the Macarena. In retrospect, it was a good time to suffer such a loss, because youth has a way of making you live minute by minute that makes pain easier to forget somehow. You can lose yourself in a haze of alcohol, midterms and stupid temporary boyfriends. Adulthood doesn't allow for that.
She was the first to buy her own place, shortly after university. She went on to live in and flip three properties before she found a beautiful house to lovingly restore. In the middle of all this she got her MBA while working full time, and somewhere along the road she met Jordan, who was so unlike anyone she'd introduced us to before. He was much younger than us, with the cynical world view of someone who was 24 and had a film degree. He didn't drink, he had strong opinions on everything and for some reason I found him difficult to get along with. I felt I could never say the right things, never impress him... at first anyway.
Later on we could make each other laugh -- he had a great laugh -- and talk about work and such enough that it would make brunches, etc fun. But they weren't the type of couple that was going to be double dating with us, that was certain, and it meant Ana was always on the periphery of my close adult friendships. In hindsight, she kind of always kept herself that way on purpose. The rest of us have strong personalities. We joke too much, in ways that could hurt a person's feelings if they weren't tough enough, or had a distaste for that kind of thing. Perhaps none of us know how to be truly close, but we just call each other more frequently. Who knows?
I didn't take their relationship seriously. I admit it. Even though they'd been together so long, living together, travelling together, I just thought of him as her boy toy. It wasn't until they moved into the house that I started to see him as she saw him and I realized that he was her future.
I had dinner with her last week and he had been improving slightly from severe Pancreatitis, a terrible side effect that can happen from Leukemia treatments, but he had had trouble breathing and was given a tracheotomy. She had put the house on the market already, bracing herself for the worst. We didn't talk much, because our other friend, who can be self-involved at times, was going through her own personal crisis and that somehow came to the forefront -- probably because it was somewhat humourous and not about death. Plus what are you going to say to someone to cheer them up when their loved one is dying? Even arguing about the menu choices must seem ridiculous.
The last time I saw Jordan was in the winter. We had gone to their house to play some pink shopping Monopoly that my sister was raving about. They had been laying low as a couple to avoid infections and viruses messing with his compromised immune system. I had bought him the Foods That Fight Cancer cookbook and a bar of dark chocolate, so that I could joke about how awesome it is that chocolate is an antioxidant.
When he looked up at me to thank me, he seemed softer somehow, like he was truly touched. It was a side of him I had never seen before. Surely it had been there all this time. My friend loved him and given her past hurts she was quite choosy about who she would let into her heart. But I had never seen it before; it had always been masked in 20-something apathy.
I had forgotten to pray for him over the past week. I had been wrapped up in my own bullshit: my launch moving up, my husband going away for a boys' weekend and leaving me to deal with the kids alone, even HerBadMother's nephew having complications from meningitis. And then this morning, a text message. A dozen words grouped together with a disgustingly awful result. I keep staring at them, wishing they would rejumble to form something pretty.
I just left her a stupid message, one where the words could not come out properly. For a writer, I leave terrible phone messages and then try to convince myself that others will find my awkwardness charming. I paced a while, then called my husband and my BFF to ruin their days as well. I tried to cajole myself and my sister by talking about the new 90210 collection by O.P.I.. But really, this isn't even about us, I feel like screaming. He's not our loved one, just the loved one of someone we love. We didn't even really know him that well, which goes to show how far reaching a life is, how many people's lives are touched by one single soul.
*******
I'm sorry Jordan. I'm sorry I didn't understand you or try to know you better. I'm sorry that this had to happen to you. You were so young, with so much potential. You made my quiet friend happy. You made her reach out of her comfort zone and try new things, things that may have scared her once upon a time.
To my friend. I love you. I am sorry that life keeps giving you lemons. Awful moldy lemons. I know you will come out of this stronger than ever. I know that will take time. I know you don't really want to think about the future right now, but yours is a bright one. Good things will come from this tragedy, it's just hard to see or even consider right now. Don't let your heart turn cold. Jordan would not have wanted that. He would want for you to suck every morsel of life out of every second for him.
Give yourself time to grieve, time to heal. Lean on your friends. We have our own crap that's for sure, but we would gladly put that aside to give you a shoulder and a warm meal. When you are ready, I am here for you.
*******
I know the show must go on, but this morning I wish that the world would stop for a sec so that I could catch my breath and think about what all this means before having to delve headfirst into work and childminding. Instead, I have to face the truth, accept that this is a part of life and then work my butt off today so that I can savour my kids this afternoon. So that I can drink in all that is alive in them both and remember to live in the moment. Please take some time to do that too today. Be thankful for your health and remember that the art of life is in the living of it.
I got a phone call from my sister. She was crying, which is extremely out of character for her, so it was instantly jarring. "Are you OK? What happened?!"
"Jordan died," she burbled. "Ana sent a text this morning." I hadn't received it yet -- my phone was upstairs. Now the text message is burning a hole in my phone with the awful announcement and I don't know what to do with it.
So I am here in my public private sanctuary, hammering out the words because I don't know how else to deal.
My friend is beautiful -- and I mean model beautiful -- and wicked smart. I have known her since I was 19. A 15 year friendship. She has suffered a lot of loss over the years, including her brother, who passed away from a rare cancer when she was only 20 or 21. We left for Acapulco two weeks later and she tried to deal with her grief in the middle of foam parties, pina coladas and the Macarena. In retrospect, it was a good time to suffer such a loss, because youth has a way of making you live minute by minute that makes pain easier to forget somehow. You can lose yourself in a haze of alcohol, midterms and stupid temporary boyfriends. Adulthood doesn't allow for that.
She was the first to buy her own place, shortly after university. She went on to live in and flip three properties before she found a beautiful house to lovingly restore. In the middle of all this she got her MBA while working full time, and somewhere along the road she met Jordan, who was so unlike anyone she'd introduced us to before. He was much younger than us, with the cynical world view of someone who was 24 and had a film degree. He didn't drink, he had strong opinions on everything and for some reason I found him difficult to get along with. I felt I could never say the right things, never impress him... at first anyway.
Later on we could make each other laugh -- he had a great laugh -- and talk about work and such enough that it would make brunches, etc fun. But they weren't the type of couple that was going to be double dating with us, that was certain, and it meant Ana was always on the periphery of my close adult friendships. In hindsight, she kind of always kept herself that way on purpose. The rest of us have strong personalities. We joke too much, in ways that could hurt a person's feelings if they weren't tough enough, or had a distaste for that kind of thing. Perhaps none of us know how to be truly close, but we just call each other more frequently. Who knows?
I didn't take their relationship seriously. I admit it. Even though they'd been together so long, living together, travelling together, I just thought of him as her boy toy. It wasn't until they moved into the house that I started to see him as she saw him and I realized that he was her future.
I had dinner with her last week and he had been improving slightly from severe Pancreatitis, a terrible side effect that can happen from Leukemia treatments, but he had had trouble breathing and was given a tracheotomy. She had put the house on the market already, bracing herself for the worst. We didn't talk much, because our other friend, who can be self-involved at times, was going through her own personal crisis and that somehow came to the forefront -- probably because it was somewhat humourous and not about death. Plus what are you going to say to someone to cheer them up when their loved one is dying? Even arguing about the menu choices must seem ridiculous.
The last time I saw Jordan was in the winter. We had gone to their house to play some pink shopping Monopoly that my sister was raving about. They had been laying low as a couple to avoid infections and viruses messing with his compromised immune system. I had bought him the Foods That Fight Cancer cookbook and a bar of dark chocolate, so that I could joke about how awesome it is that chocolate is an antioxidant.
When he looked up at me to thank me, he seemed softer somehow, like he was truly touched. It was a side of him I had never seen before. Surely it had been there all this time. My friend loved him and given her past hurts she was quite choosy about who she would let into her heart. But I had never seen it before; it had always been masked in 20-something apathy.
I had forgotten to pray for him over the past week. I had been wrapped up in my own bullshit: my launch moving up, my husband going away for a boys' weekend and leaving me to deal with the kids alone, even HerBadMother's nephew having complications from meningitis. And then this morning, a text message. A dozen words grouped together with a disgustingly awful result. I keep staring at them, wishing they would rejumble to form something pretty.
I just left her a stupid message, one where the words could not come out properly. For a writer, I leave terrible phone messages and then try to convince myself that others will find my awkwardness charming. I paced a while, then called my husband and my BFF to ruin their days as well. I tried to cajole myself and my sister by talking about the new 90210 collection by O.P.I.. But really, this isn't even about us, I feel like screaming. He's not our loved one, just the loved one of someone we love. We didn't even really know him that well, which goes to show how far reaching a life is, how many people's lives are touched by one single soul.
*******
I'm sorry Jordan. I'm sorry I didn't understand you or try to know you better. I'm sorry that this had to happen to you. You were so young, with so much potential. You made my quiet friend happy. You made her reach out of her comfort zone and try new things, things that may have scared her once upon a time.
To my friend. I love you. I am sorry that life keeps giving you lemons. Awful moldy lemons. I know you will come out of this stronger than ever. I know that will take time. I know you don't really want to think about the future right now, but yours is a bright one. Good things will come from this tragedy, it's just hard to see or even consider right now. Don't let your heart turn cold. Jordan would not have wanted that. He would want for you to suck every morsel of life out of every second for him.
Give yourself time to grieve, time to heal. Lean on your friends. We have our own crap that's for sure, but we would gladly put that aside to give you a shoulder and a warm meal. When you are ready, I am here for you.
*******
I know the show must go on, but this morning I wish that the world would stop for a sec so that I could catch my breath and think about what all this means before having to delve headfirst into work and childminding. Instead, I have to face the truth, accept that this is a part of life and then work my butt off today so that I can savour my kids this afternoon. So that I can drink in all that is alive in them both and remember to live in the moment. Please take some time to do that too today. Be thankful for your health and remember that the art of life is in the living of it.
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