Friday, January 21, 2011


This post may not be very literarily (is that even a word?) correct, fyi. It helped a lot to talk about it with Justin last night, so I figured I'd write it down.
Yesterday while folding clothes I got a call that one of my friends, a lady from work, had passed away. I was completely shocked, as I'm sure everyone else was. There was nothing at all leading up to this. She's in her early 40s or late 30s. I called the other 3 ladies that I work with and let them know, which was hard. When I hung up I started thinking of everything we ever talked about how much I had learned from her. Questions for the future, and remembering the past. The last conversation I had with her was on Tuesday. Her mother is dying, so all last week she had been in California with her. When she got back she was telling me everything that is going on there with all of her siblings, who are all into drugs, and I asked her why she isn't a druggy since she was surrounded by it the whole time she was being raised. She's truly lived an exemplary life. She's a remarkable woman. She had a very rough upbringing in a home where everyone either smoked or drank or both, and yet she was never involved in any of it. Never had any desire to be. Many other defining events led her to where she is now.
She was such a strong woman. Just from watching her you'd never know that she had so many hardships in her life. She's one of the most energetic people I know. She is ALWAYS doing something. She made the rest of us look bad, because if there was nothing to do at work, she'd still find something to do. If there truly was nothing to do, she'd draw (she was an amazing artist). She had to be doing something at all times. She was a wonderful mother. She was always talking about her 3 kids and the fun they had together. She never had a thought for herself. She was always so concerned about others. She would always talk about how excited she was for Justin and I to have a baby (that is not an announcement) so I could bring it to work and she could hold it all day. One day she was joking about how she was afraid we didn't need her anymore (we did her job while she was gone) and I burst out with the song I Need You by America and she teared up and said that's the loudest she'd ever heard me be and she felt special because it was for her. Haha. :) I didn't think I was that quiet. I think she just meant soft-spoken. I was having some customer service problems with Barnes and Noble for about two weeks and by the end she was itching for me to let her talk to them and give them a piece of her mind. She said she'd never yell at them if it was for her, but if it was someone she cared about she had no problem. :)
These are a few of my favorite moments with her and I wanted to write them down while they're fresh. I'll miss you, Wendy.

Monday, January 10, 2011

Check out my dad's blog!

My dad has a new photography blog that showcases some of his photography. Check it out!

Sunday, January 2, 2011

Life Itself is a Most Wonderful Fairytale. . .

So decreed the 19th century author, Hans Christian Andersen. I'm of the persuasion that he knew what he was talking about. In fact, I liked this idea so well that, for Christmas, I had it put on a mirror, along with the family name and the increasingly popular "Est. (year)" motif, wrapped it up, and gave it to Claire for Christmas. It now hangs where I can casually glance up and, if I'm lucky, catch a glimpse of the heroine of my story. We both like it a lot.

I've been reading quite a bit of Dickens lately, and there's one thing about Dickens that I've identified as striking my fancy. He knew that all will end well. During the course of his story, terrible things happen to characters that you've come to love. (C'est la vie, non?) And yet, by the final page, he's managed to somehow wrangle a heartwarming tale of triumph from some of society's darkest hours. (For instance, see "Tale of Two Cities" or "Barnaby Rudge".) If that isn't a microcosm of what it means to be human, I don't know what is.
I've decided that fairytales are what one chooses to make of them. On the one hand, at left one could choose to see only a temporary reprieve from the mundane struggles of an average newly-wed couple. But if one were to look closer, one could see the looks bespeaking pure enjoyment, or the ripples reaching through time from a single day's activities. Some would call me a romantic; often even couple it with the word, "hopeless". I pity these people. Love, the great ingredient in all fairytales, is found in the simple things. It's finding an open pair of arms at the end of a day's work. It's found in making that trip to town: buying and spending nothing but time. It's being able to hug them and say nothing, while having it all said in perfect eloquence.

Life is a fairytale. What more can I say? Claire and I are both very excited for what this new year will bring. For me, I'm anticipating leaps and bounds toward the checkpoint of my Bachelor's in Psychology. Three semesters more should do it. It was recently brought to my attention by a family member that I've found "my thing". That area of interest that I can't talk about without a smile creeping into my voice and features. I'm really excited to become a child psychologist.
Claire is excited for the job she loves, helping others accomplish what seems to come so easily to her: looking good. She'll be the assistant manager at Eccoci this year. She's really looking forward to this next big thing in her life. . .
We have it all. We're young, we're still in love, and our life's just beginning. Tell on.