In this crazy thing we call life, there are people, places and things that affect us until the day we either forget (which means they/it wasn't that important or astounding) or until we... yeah, corny, I know.
Do any of you remember your first love? Not just someone you once loved, but the first time you realized what it meant to actually, truly, love. Do they still hold a secret place in your heart? Do you sometimes wonder how they are doing? What they might be doing? How life treated them? Who they ended up with?
Quarantine has been a tumultuous time. We have good days, we have bad days and we have in-between days. I've found that I have a lot of time to read. Some books are 'fun' books, books that I read just to take my mind off things. Some are harder, some belong to the timeless literary list of 'must reads!' There are books that make me laugh, some that make me cry. Some that make me wonder what this life has in store for me. But the ones that make me sad are the ones that also make me think, make me reflect.
I met my first real love almost exactly 11 years ago.
I had been in a relationship before but at the young age of 17 you want to believe you love someone without really knowing what it means. At the tender age of 19, almost 20, I was naive enough to still believe in happily ever after. It was a chance meeting that would change my life, and my musings of happily ever after, forever. I met him through a friend of mine, a friend who wanted to meet him. Apparently he had made a name for himself, I didn't know who he was (which may have made me more attractive in his eyes). There was something about his knowing gaze when I fist saw him that pulled at me. Like he knew that he would become someone special. Someone that, no matter what phase of my life I would find myself in, would always, always, hold a piece of my heart.
Falling in love was easy. It usually is, when you're getting to know someone who only shows you what he wants you to see. Someone who can't know how, in that short while, he's going to change your life forever. He was interesting, and interested. And despite our 16 year age difference, he was fascinating and opened my eyes to an industry I hadn't really paid much attention to before I met him. He was the type of person that walked into a room and captured everyone's attention. He told his stories with a flourish and people would hang on to every word. I felt honored to be seen with him, I felt special. I was blinded by his light, his charisma, his flair for the dramatic, his insatiable need to be the center of attention.
I was sure that when he said 'I love you too', that he meant it.
Little did I know that on a beautiful summer day, almost half a world away, reality would come crashing down around me. I came to the realization that not only was I NOT The One, apparently I wasn't even The Only One. The facts were laid out of front of me. 'When it walks like a duck...' came a message on Facebook. I was in denial, I didn't want to believe what was being said, being proven right in front of my eyes. But no matter what, the facts were there, for me to read, over and over and over again. The heart wrenching pain, the tears, the cursing of him name, of his sole existence, is something I will never forget. The thought of it all still makes my heart squeeze tight. Is that still pain? or is it the bodys natural reaction when reminiscing about such grief?
How, you ask, does this man still hold a piece of my heart? Easy, he was the first one I gave it to, the fist one to hold it in his hands and squeeze the life out of it. Somehow, when he let go, I left a piece of it with him. Even now, and I shake my head at the thought, I feel a connection. Maybe it's still the naive girl, who wishes things had ended differently, or hadn't ended at all, that feels this. There have been times though, in the past 11 years, where the timing of a random text or a published article, which incited a phone call from my end, have made me wonder.. even my mother, forever fervently opposed to said relationship for the duration, had a smile on her face after said phone call 2 years ago and said something along the lines of 'what's with the two of you?'
In the 11 years since that fateful day in New York City when I met him, I have made a life for myself that I'm okay with. Not always happy, often apprehensive; loneliness engulfs me despite my 2 wonderful children.
But trust? Yes, I definitely have trust issues. I'm still learning that I am enough, that I have something to offer and that maybe, some day, I'll meet someone again. Someone who loves me for me, for who and what I am
Maybe. Someday..
12 April 2020
23 June 2019
Death.
The past few weeks have been hard.
I mean, I'm a single mom, so every week is hard, or harder, on some level.
"HOW IS THE BEST SWISS PERSON?" That's pretty much how every conversation with Davey started. I met Davey about 11 years ago at the International Auto Show at the Jacob Javits Center in NYC and saw him for the last time.... about 11 years ago. Throughout the years, there were always sporadic messages sent back and forth between the two of us, just to catch up, make sure everything was ok. Swissgar he called me, never by my first name, and he was Smokey to me.
On June 7, 2019, he was reported missing in the Sierra Nevada in Northern California. He was on a test drive with a Honda motorcycle, went over the Sonora Pass, texted a few friends that he wasn't properly attired for the trip and was never heard from again; that's the short version. The Calaveras County Sheriffs Department put in their best efforts to find him, but to no avail. On June 21, 2019, a body was found, with the assumption, and then determination, that it was my buddy Smokey.
On June 15, 2019, another acquaintance of mine was in a terrible motorcycle accident during a International Road Race Championship (IRRC) race at Imatranajo in Finland. The roads were wet, he lost control.. He was rushed to the hospital but there wasn't much that could be done anymore. He passed away shortly after. All alone.
Whenever I hear about a death, there is a moment of shock, a threat of tears, and a gulp of air, then, the day goes on. There are supposed to be steps, stages of grief that everyone goes through when they loose a loved one. 5-7 stages of grief, depending on who you ask. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance.
For some reason, I don't go through those stages. I accept that this is the hand that life has dealt me, and I go on, there isn't much else that I can do.
Then I feel guilty. Is this normal? Am I such a cold-hearted person that I don't feel like I should feel when I loose someone? Does this make me a bad person? Have I become numb to the pain of loosing someone after all the friends I've lost? Do I rush through the stages of grief in a matter an hour? Am I suppressing emotions so that I can just get on with my life? Will I one day be emotionally overwhelmed because, eventually, I'll need to deal with these emotions? Where's the tenderness, the compassion and the love?
There are so many scenarios that go through my head, so many questions with no answers.
To all the friends, and family, I've lost, no matter my reaction to your deaths, I'll never forget any of you. The short lives you lived impacted everyone around you and the rooms feel emptier without your presence.
I mean, I'm a single mom, so every week is hard, or harder, on some level.
"HOW IS THE BEST SWISS PERSON?" That's pretty much how every conversation with Davey started. I met Davey about 11 years ago at the International Auto Show at the Jacob Javits Center in NYC and saw him for the last time.... about 11 years ago. Throughout the years, there were always sporadic messages sent back and forth between the two of us, just to catch up, make sure everything was ok. Swissgar he called me, never by my first name, and he was Smokey to me.
On June 7, 2019, he was reported missing in the Sierra Nevada in Northern California. He was on a test drive with a Honda motorcycle, went over the Sonora Pass, texted a few friends that he wasn't properly attired for the trip and was never heard from again; that's the short version. The Calaveras County Sheriffs Department put in their best efforts to find him, but to no avail. On June 21, 2019, a body was found, with the assumption, and then determination, that it was my buddy Smokey.
On June 15, 2019, another acquaintance of mine was in a terrible motorcycle accident during a International Road Race Championship (IRRC) race at Imatranajo in Finland. The roads were wet, he lost control.. He was rushed to the hospital but there wasn't much that could be done anymore. He passed away shortly after. All alone.
Whenever I hear about a death, there is a moment of shock, a threat of tears, and a gulp of air, then, the day goes on. There are supposed to be steps, stages of grief that everyone goes through when they loose a loved one. 5-7 stages of grief, depending on who you ask. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance.
For some reason, I don't go through those stages. I accept that this is the hand that life has dealt me, and I go on, there isn't much else that I can do.
Then I feel guilty. Is this normal? Am I such a cold-hearted person that I don't feel like I should feel when I loose someone? Does this make me a bad person? Have I become numb to the pain of loosing someone after all the friends I've lost? Do I rush through the stages of grief in a matter an hour? Am I suppressing emotions so that I can just get on with my life? Will I one day be emotionally overwhelmed because, eventually, I'll need to deal with these emotions? Where's the tenderness, the compassion and the love?
There are so many scenarios that go through my head, so many questions with no answers.
To all the friends, and family, I've lost, no matter my reaction to your deaths, I'll never forget any of you. The short lives you lived impacted everyone around you and the rooms feel emptier without your presence.
 |
| Image borrowed from loudwire.com |
RIP
thinking about you always.
1984-2008
1984-2009
1992-2010
1930-2015
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1976-2019
1988-2019
25 April 2019
The Hardest Thing
What's the hardest thing you've ever done?
Some might say child birth, some might say training their dog, some might say climbing Mount Everest; there are an abundance of hard things and tough situations that everyone, at some point, goes through and overcomes.
For me? Closing this box for the very last time. This box that at one point represented hope, love, a promise of many tomorrows, many fights, many compromises, many laughs and many memories made together.
At this very moment, the box houses the two rings that were offered, that now represent the two short years we were married. It houses the too few memories we made as a married couple. The too fews days and nights spent together, discussing everything and anything. The too few laughs, the too few date nights, the too few arguments with the kids (although, let's be honest, we'll have enough of those in the future).
There's resentment, there's regret, there's sorrow, there's sadness, and a whole lot of pain.The kind of pain that makes it feel like someone is sitting on your chest all day, you even have trouble breathing. The kind of pain that comes from realizing that no matter what you do now, it's too late, there's nothing left to do and the only way is forward.
And then, there are tears. A great many tears, usually streaming down your face at the most inoppertune moments. Songs, people, places, everything triggers the tears. Sometimes your embarassed by them, sometimes you aren't. Sometimes there are glances of sympathy from strangers and sometimes, most times, your all alone, shouldering as much as you can and making sure everyone knows, or thinks, you're alright. The toughest tears are the ones you can't seem to stop despite the kids looking at you askance. What do you say? How can you explain? Is it normal for my 7 year old to tell me everything is going to be ok? To tell me to go take a bath and make some tea? No, it's not, but it's sweet.
And eventually, some days, there's acceptance. You realize that there is no one to blame, no one person was at fault. You realize that your stronger than you once thought. That you can overcome almost anything, as long as you let the pain and the tears come. You accept that this is the card that you were dealt and that no matter what, there will always be love in your heart for the person you were once bound to.
Life is turbulant, how boring would it be if it wasn't?
Let's see what else it has in store for me.
30 October 2016
first day
although the first day of kindergarten was some time ago, way back in august, i think this is one story worth telling.
usually, when we see pictures of the first day of pre-school, kindergarten, first grade, middle school, high school, college, and the first day of the rest of our lives, the subjects are smiling. there is an aura around them, excitment, suspense, knowing there are going to be new adventures, new friends, the smell of new books, new paper and pens, new teachers, and sometimes new classmates.
our first day was anything but that.
she was nervous.
here in switzerland, the first day of kindergarten is just 2 hours in the afternoon. so when my darling daughter woke up at 5:30 am, i knew it was going to be a long day.
she woke up, looked at me with big eyes and asked: 'mom, am i going to kindergarten today?'
i told her, 'yeah! are you excited to go?'
she said, 'of course mom!'
such a sassy young lady.
and then she ran to the toilet and threw up.
finn followed her in, stroked her back and blubbered something in a language only he understood at the time. he looked after his sister the way i hope they'll look after each other in 15 years time when either, or both, will be too drunk to walk.
this went on for quite a while. the last time she threw up was around 12:30pm, an hour before the bus would have come to pick her up. i was still asking myself if it was just nerves or if she was really sick when she started eating lunch with gusto, and keeping it down.
will she always be like this? will she be throwing up every time she has a test, an interview or even a date?
oh help.
we got that cute 'first day' picture right before she left with her dad:
usually, when we see pictures of the first day of pre-school, kindergarten, first grade, middle school, high school, college, and the first day of the rest of our lives, the subjects are smiling. there is an aura around them, excitment, suspense, knowing there are going to be new adventures, new friends, the smell of new books, new paper and pens, new teachers, and sometimes new classmates.
our first day was anything but that.
she was nervous.
here in switzerland, the first day of kindergarten is just 2 hours in the afternoon. so when my darling daughter woke up at 5:30 am, i knew it was going to be a long day.
she woke up, looked at me with big eyes and asked: 'mom, am i going to kindergarten today?'
i told her, 'yeah! are you excited to go?'
she said, 'of course mom!'
such a sassy young lady.
and then she ran to the toilet and threw up.
finn followed her in, stroked her back and blubbered something in a language only he understood at the time. he looked after his sister the way i hope they'll look after each other in 15 years time when either, or both, will be too drunk to walk.
this went on for quite a while. the last time she threw up was around 12:30pm, an hour before the bus would have come to pick her up. i was still asking myself if it was just nerves or if she was really sick when she started eating lunch with gusto, and keeping it down.
will she always be like this? will she be throwing up every time she has a test, an interview or even a date?
oh help.
we got that cute 'first day' picture right before she left with her dad:
27 October 2016
the day my daughter didn't come home from school
[ this title sounds a lot more tragic than it was, in hindsight of course. ]
let me try to describe my daughter to you; she's full of energy 100% of the time, she's stubborn like her mom, she has a mind her own, she loves annoying her brother, she gets up between 5 and 6 am abd there's never a dull moment when she's awake - which comes to about 14 hours a day. i've had my hands full since she was able to walk... at 11 months.
she started her first year of kindergaten (they have to go 2 years here in switzerland) in august and the kids are required to walk to school by themselves; mind, she's 4 years old. so she walks to school, gets on a bus that takes her to another town (because there are so many kids in our town that she has to go to another kindergarten), the bus drops her off right in front of the kindergarten, then she has to do the same shenanigans coming home again.
on monday, a 'friend' of hers (i put friend in parenthesis because amelie keeps telling me she doesn't like her) decided to go to the supermarket after school, then go to the big playground together - without telling anyone. at such a young age, the don't understand the worry they cause when they just disappear like that, obviously.
i was at home, making lunch, minding my own business and not looking at the clock, when amelie's friends mom calls and asks if amelie's home yet. i look at the clock and oH SHIT! she should have been home half an hour ago. you know the feeling where you feel like someone is grabbing your insides and squeezing? yeah, that happened.
there have been stories going around lately about weird people hanging out in the woods close to our neighborhood, so of course i do the worst thing possible and imagine the worst thing that could possibly happen..
i call the kindergarten (maybe there's a delay?), no one answers.
i call the bus driver, he nonchalantly says: 'i dropped them all off, i have no idea where they could have gone.' THANKS!
the friends mom calls again: 'i'm walking around on the other side of town looking for them. have they come home yet?'
'no, not yet.'
'i'm starting to get worried.. oh wait! is that amelie's coat? i think i see her coat on the big slide at the playground,'
pause
'yeah, that's them! oh, they're in so much trouble!!!!'
*insert huge sigh of release from everyone involved*
needless to say, i grounded my 4 year old, we're walking them to the bus and picking them up from the bus again and amelie is upset because she can't go on playdates for a while.
i hope she learned her lesson, i seriously hope so.
let me try to describe my daughter to you; she's full of energy 100% of the time, she's stubborn like her mom, she has a mind her own, she loves annoying her brother, she gets up between 5 and 6 am abd there's never a dull moment when she's awake - which comes to about 14 hours a day. i've had my hands full since she was able to walk... at 11 months.
she started her first year of kindergaten (they have to go 2 years here in switzerland) in august and the kids are required to walk to school by themselves; mind, she's 4 years old. so she walks to school, gets on a bus that takes her to another town (because there are so many kids in our town that she has to go to another kindergarten), the bus drops her off right in front of the kindergarten, then she has to do the same shenanigans coming home again.
on monday, a 'friend' of hers (i put friend in parenthesis because amelie keeps telling me she doesn't like her) decided to go to the supermarket after school, then go to the big playground together - without telling anyone. at such a young age, the don't understand the worry they cause when they just disappear like that, obviously.
i was at home, making lunch, minding my own business and not looking at the clock, when amelie's friends mom calls and asks if amelie's home yet. i look at the clock and oH SHIT! she should have been home half an hour ago. you know the feeling where you feel like someone is grabbing your insides and squeezing? yeah, that happened.
there have been stories going around lately about weird people hanging out in the woods close to our neighborhood, so of course i do the worst thing possible and imagine the worst thing that could possibly happen..
i call the kindergarten (maybe there's a delay?), no one answers.
i call the bus driver, he nonchalantly says: 'i dropped them all off, i have no idea where they could have gone.' THANKS!
the friends mom calls again: 'i'm walking around on the other side of town looking for them. have they come home yet?'
'no, not yet.'
'i'm starting to get worried.. oh wait! is that amelie's coat? i think i see her coat on the big slide at the playground,'
pause
'yeah, that's them! oh, they're in so much trouble!!!!'
*insert huge sigh of release from everyone involved*
needless to say, i grounded my 4 year old, we're walking them to the bus and picking them up from the bus again and amelie is upset because she can't go on playdates for a while.
i hope she learned her lesson, i seriously hope so.
11 August 2016
quick question?
What to do about neighbors that complain about a 21-month old?
I mean, seriously; what do you want me to do, take out the batteries? It's not that simple lady. There are obviously better days and worse days, days where I wish I COULD take out some batteries, if only just for an hour so that I can iron, or fold laundry, or just have some peace and quiet. Although, let's be honest, peace and quiet was over the moment Amelie was born, almost 5 years ago.
And then there are moments like this...
Moments of pure happiness and joy, where I can't imagine wanting even 5 minutes to myself.
05 August 2016
quick thought;
Am I the only mom that gives her kids Ben & Jerry's Cookie Dough ice ceam but fishes out the cookie dough pieces for herself?
Sometimes I feel bad, and stupidly selfish; other times I tell myself they can't miss something they don't even know exists.. #badmom
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