Tuesday, October 1, 2013

Goodbye, Grandma

Dear Grandma,

You won't get the chance to hear the things I am about to say. Part of me is okay with that, part of me isn't. You see, today is October 1st, and you passed away two days ago. So why am I writing you a letter? Because this is my final goodbye.

Growing up, I remember many Saturdays going to the Zion Burger King for breakfast, then spending the day in search of a good buy, either at a Garage Sale or at one of your many Craft Shows. I learned a lot about being a good neighbor and friend by watching the way you interacted with your fellow crafters, and as I grew up you taught me how to be a good helper by running your own crafting booth as well as helping your friends get theirs set up or torn down. You came to watch my performances with Passion Play and CYT, and I loved having you there. You also helped to nurture in me a love for Diagnosis Murder, Murder she Wrote, and other fun mystery shows that Mom and I would watch with you. I couldn't begin to fathom what life would be like without you there as a rock of common sense, support, and wisdom.

When you moved to Wisconsin to be closer to Uncle Don and Aunt Robin's kids, I was really jealous at first. You were my Grandma, and I didn't want to share you with anybody! It took me some time, but I came around. You were an awesome Grandma, and despite the fact that I wanted you all to myself, I was glad that you got to be that amazing Grandma to Jonah. Then Noah. Then Elijah, and Micah and Mercy. I missed you, and I was never the best at keeping in touch, but I loved it when we would come to visit you. Even from a distance, you were supportive through good and bad decisions I made in life. I knew you were praying for me, and that gave me comfort when I went through hard times.

I believe I was a senior in High School when we got the news; you had been diagnosed with Alzheimer's. I didn't know what to say; I had seen on TV what happened to people who suffered from this disease, and i was afraid of the day you would not know who I was. We still came to visit you, and you were still my Grandma. Nothing seemed to be drastically changing, and so I figured that this would be a slow process, that it would age with you, and you wouldn't get "that bad" for many more years.

The last time I had seen you was when Jaina was 5 months old. we came up to visit you so you could meet your first great granddaughter. Although she won't remember this for a little while yet, I know she was very excited to meet you. I was excited for you to meet Haddy after she was born, and that was going to be at my mom's birthday and retirement party.

I almost didn't know you when you walked in the door, Grandma. When I saw you, I could see that things were getting to you, and my heart ached to hug you and tell you that I would be there for you too, and that no matter how bad things got I would be there. I don't know what it was, but something held me back. Maybe I was afraid of losing you, maybe I was trying to keep the image of my grandma the way I wanted her, and I didn't want to face a reality where Grandma was that sick. I don't know what it was, but I held back, and busied myself with other things. I kept tabs on you through my mom, and when the opportunity came to visit for Christmas, I chickened out and made excuses. I told myself that I was keeping the Grandma I remembered alive in my mind by not seeing her at her worst, but the truth is I was selfish. I didn't want to face the possibility that I would go to hug you, and you would look at me blankly, not knowing who I was. I couldn't face the fact that you were starting to head down a path that would be very difficult, both on you and the rest of us. I didn't want to deal with it, and so I avoided it.

This last Saturday was much like the Saturdays I would have spent with you; we had made plans with my parents to spend the day with the girls. It was while we were out spending time that Uncle Don sent the message that you were fading, and Mom rushed up to see you. Sean offered to take off work so I could go, but again I let my fear get the best of me and I stayed behind. I felt like time had frozen between the place of hope that everything would be fine in the end and knowing that it wouldn't be long before you were gone forever. Sunday evening, dad called to let me know you had passed. So many thoughts rushed through my head that I didn't know what to do. I was relieved that you didn't have to suffer anymore, and in shock that you were gone. I was glad that you got to be with Grandpa again, but I wanted my Grandma back. As I am writing this, I know it won't fully hit me until I am at the funeral that you are truly gone. Part of me is glad that the only times I've seen you were good times, and part of me hates myself for running away when you needed a loving family.

You were loved Grandma, I know that for sure. I have never been the best at expressing emotions to those who are in my family, and I regret to say that I don't say what needs to be said enough. It is by the grace of God that I was lucky enough to be a part of this family, and there have been times I haven't acted very grateful. But I loved you Grandma, although I didn't say it often enough. And so, if in my goodbye to you, I can learn anything, it would be to appreciate what I have. I have been blessed with amazing parents, who went through a heck of a lot to be able to have me in the first place. I have been blessed with Aunts and Uncles, who have watched me grow up and taught me things about Harleys and Coca Cola. I have been blessed with some amazing cousins, who all have their own unique talents and gifts. My regret is that I don not spend enough time with any of you, or appreciate you being in my life anywhere near enough.
And so, Grandma, I say goodbye to you. You will be missed here on earth.

Lamentations 3:20-23 (New Living Translation)

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Lamentations 3:20-23

New Living Translation (NLT)

20 I will never forget this awful time,
as I grieve over my loss.
21 Yet I still dare to hope
when I remember this:

22 The faithful love of the Lord never ends![a]

    His mercies never cease.

23 Great is his faithfulness;

    his mercies begin afresh each morning.

Sunday, April 7, 2013

realities of battle

the following was written from the viewpoint of my oldest fanfiction character.

it was the worst day of my life.

we had been delved deep in battle for almost 12 hours, with no end in sight as each enemy we cut down seemed to multiply by a thousand. the king saw our doom foreshadowed, and wished to give his people one last chance of survival. ordering a retreat, i was in position to clear the area as everyone fell back as ordered. i fought hard, cutting down as many enemies as i could, but this last one was tough. knocking me to the ground, i knew in that instant that i was dead. but then he fell down next to me, and i looked up to see my france standing over me, offering his hand. jumping up, i gave him a quick peck on the cheek as a thank you before the next group of attackers came upon us. jumping eagerly to fend them off, i swung my blade with the keen skill of the finest elves. with the soldiers of the king retreated, i turned to my man, yelling that we had to go.
that was when my heart stopped beating.
i watched in horror as the scene before me played out in slow motion. turning to run towards me, an enemy we thought had been cut down stood up, raising his blade above his head and bringing it down hard. i screamed, gaining the attention of the king as i rushed to make sure the enemy was cut down this time. my fiancé was on his knees, a stunned look on his face. kneeling next to him, i pulled him into my arms as he stared up at me, his eyes cold and unfeeling. i cried out in anguish, cursing the gods for this fate in my grief. my brother appeared next to me, trying to pull me away. i wanted to die right there, and tried to launch myself at the coming horde in a suicide attack, but my brother would not let me. he dragged me away from the battle as my tirade of grief continued. i was numb, i was cold, i felt nothing but pain, i felt nothing but emptiness.

surely, a knife pierced my heart that day.

and i doubted i would ever recover.......

"For my Daughter..."

an excerpt from a star wars fan fiction i was writing at one time

(the following was written 2/14/07)
tenel ka and jaina sat at the lunch table, talking. tenel ka shivered and rubbed her arms. "man, i wish summer would hurry up and get here! i hate this cold weather!" jaina smiled warmly at her best friend. "tenel ka, instead of thinking about how cold it is, ou should think about the cool things you can do in the snow!" tenet ka rolled her eyes. "now is not the time for one of your lame puns, solo! i feel like i'm freezing my butt off!" jaina pondered this a moment, then came up with an idea; "how about you tell me about your summer vacation last year? what did you do?" tenel ka sighed dreamily. "oh, yeah, it was great! my parents took me to this water park. they had everything there! from water slides to lazy rivers, it was just great! you see, the weather on the day we went was, oh, about 85 degrees outside, not huge breeze, just a soft one that was barely there. the water was cold, so it felt nice and refreshing for this hot day. there were a lot of kids there, so i mingled and made a couple of friends." tenel ka sighed dreamily. jaina leaned forward excitedly. "so, what all did you do?" tenel ka sighed again. "well, there was this child of 13 years named allana. her and i hung out most of the time..."

(the following was added on 4/25/11)
"Excuse me, ma'am, I'm Sarai, the Barrista? Are you okay?"
The young woman looked up from the journal, swiping at the tear in her eye.
"Yeah, I'll be okay..." She suddenly burst into tears, hugging her sweater to her chest. Sarai caught the journal as it fell towards the floor. She turned it over in her hand, reading the title that was scrawled on the front;
"The Life of my Friends, as recorded by Jacen Solo". She looked at the young woman.
"Where did you find this?" Sarai gasped, remembering the tales of the dreaded Sith Lord when she was a girl. The young woman motioned for her to open the journal. Sarai read the first page, where Jacen had scrawled a note the day of his death.
"For my Daughter, Allana......"

Shadow and Death

Pain. Who likes Pain? Who likes Suffering?
See? Don't you see what I'm going through?
The Shadow's closing in!
It seems that I can't swim out of it.
So what's now left to do?

I'll follow you through Shadow and Death.
When I can't see my way through,
Oh, I'll follow you.
I'll follow you, you pull me through.
You lead me through the darkness.
Oh, I'll follow you.
I'll follow you...

journal for baby

the following is an excerpt from a journal i wrote while pregnant

95 days until November 28th. Although it could be sooner than that; maybe even afterwards. Only God knows. Still, my grandma thinks the later, for she believes the old wives tale of first babies always being two weeks late. I wouldn't know, I was two weeks early because my birth mom needed a C-section. And although, technically, I was a firstborn, I have two older half-brothers by my mom. Only time will tell I guess...

As I progress into my third and final trimester, I have been asked many questions; Am I ready for it to be over? How do I feel different? Can I tell what baby is up to in there? What are my feeding plans? Well let me tell you right now, I am definately planning on breastfeeding. I like the idea of losing the weight sooner, but also the fact that it's healthier for Jaina makes me determined to make it work. But what about those other questions?

Am I ready? Yes. And No. I mean, I'm excited to meet Jaina and get to hold her and teach her; but I also enjoy the small things. For example; laying quiet in bed listening to soft cello/piano music while feeling Jaina move to the music within me. Oh I know, there will be plenty of moments that are just as special after she's born; her smile, the first time she calls mommy and daddy by name, the first tooth, loosing that tooth, the first day of school, the last day of school, hearing the principal announce that Jaina Ann-Marie Gray is next in line as she steps up to shake his hand and recieve her diploma with the class of 2028.....but now I am jumping ahead of myself. Or am I? I mean, hold on! It's never too early! We need to start saving for college!!!

How do I feel different? When I get off a hard shift at work, I can feel my feet swelling from the pressure. This is usually relieved by in the recliner for about an hour while chugging the three glasses of water I didn't get while serving customers nonstop for 6 hours. Also, I have been helping a little more on Drive-Thru lately, and today while collecting money from someone I caught my reflection in the window. OMFG!!!! I thought I was looking in one of those distortion mirrors at the Fun House, but no. I am FAT! I had to laugh to myself as I realized my pregnancy is really unavoidable visually.

Ultrasounds aren't always reliable in predicting baby's gender. Can you tell for sure? It may sound crazy, but I've been able to tell since I first found out that I was pregnant. Also, I know they say you can't feel baby until well into the third or fourth month, but I'm positive that at two months I could feel her and already bonded with her. And even thought they say the baby doesn't hear outside voices until 4 1/2 to 5 months, at two months if I was feeling sick or something from too much 'swimming', a word to Jaina from daddy, even over the phone, would instantly calm her down. To this day, if Jaina is being overactive and kicking a lot, all Sean has to do is say "Jaina..." to my belly and she settles down, or if she keeps moving it's not so rough. She has always known her daddy's voice!

well, it's getting late, and my eyes are drooping. Time to end this for the night. Tomorrow I call to set up pre-marital counseling so that hopefully Sean and I can officially marry before Jaina gets here. Tentative date for the baby shower is October 24th. But now I must sleep....

dark rantings

i often write to let off steam when i am angry or hurting; it helps to keep me from doing stupid things i used to do. these writings may be dark and vengeful, as they were written during such moments.

the dream
my life seemed so happy. everything was swell.
i didn't realize how much i really was in hell.
but then the dream came and took it all away.
i'm stuck thinking how life would be different today
if he hadn't broke my heart, if i'd never seen your smile.
the pain i feel won't go away for a very long while.
the things before come back to me as now i wish for him.
but then i see you waiting and feel guilty for this sin.
all i wanted was to hear you say you'd love me til the end
and you'd fight him to the death for me, again and again.
no words from you is what i got, you went to bed to sleep.
now in the morning i'll be gone; and you won't even weep.
goodbye cruel world, i bid adieu to this strange family.
i'm no longer your problem. this ends the curse of me.

lies

at a loss for words, don't know what to say
i didn't think things would end this way
you told me i mattered, you told me you cared
and now i just sit at the window and stare
you stole and broke my heart
you're tearing me apart
i'm losing my mind
i'm done with you're lies

just leave me alone
don't mess with me anymore
you're out in the cold
i've kicked you out the door....

In Memorium; 11 years later

the following was written as a memorial on 9/11/12

For me as a homeschooler, it started out like any other day. I went with my dad to take my mom to ZBTHS for work. We got home, ate breakfast, and I got to work on Math, Science, and Reading. At age 11, I always rushed to beat my dad to the phone whenever it rang. This time, it was my Grandma Clark. When I answered, all I remember her saying was "I need you father." My grandma never reffered to ANYBODY as father, it was always "your daddy"; and the tone in her voice convinced me something was wrong. At first I thought someone had died. like my Great-Grandpa who had been sick all summer. I yelled for my dad, who was at the computer. I told him it was grandma and sat back down to continue my studies, keeping an ear out. My dad suddenly yelled "What???" When I looked up, he told me to get in the basement fast. I didn't hear tornado sirens or anything, but I knew that face. I grabbed my schoolbooks and bolted downstairs. I dropped my books on the table, then stood at the bottom of the stairs. I heard the phone slam down, and I yelled for my dad. He told me to keep working on my studies and he would be down in a minute. By now I was scared and didn't want to be alone, but I did as he said. I'm not exactly sure what he was doing; I think he was trying to call my mom at school. A few minutes later, he came downstairs and turned on WMBI, a radio station based at Moody Bible Institute in Chicago. I didn't understand what was going on, so I asked my dad. He said something about something happening to a building in New York. I had never heard of the World Trade Center before, but could tell something bad was happening. We spent most of the day downstairs, leaving only to get my mom from school. The rest of the day blurred together for me, and I don't remember much; if CYT had already started, Tuesdays were when we had classes, but I don't remember going that day. Either it was cancelled, or my dad just didn't want me gone because of the days events, or both. Maybe I did go, and just don't remember. I was 11, and couldn't imagine anything that terrible happening. I had just finished learning about Pearl Harbor, and I knew nothing like that would never happen in my lifetime. I went to bed that night totally oblivious, not realizing how naive I was being...not realizing that I was about to grow up....

My dad was supposed to have an appointment with his specialist in Milwaukee on Wednesday. He had called to confirm that it was still on, and it was. I had recently been allowed to stay at home by myself, but today my dad called Grandma Clark if I could come over so I wouldn't be alone. He made my list of schoolwork. and I was dropped off while my mom accompanied him to his appointment. I sat on the couch in the breezeway, knowing if I got my work done fast Grandma and I could do fun things later. Grandma turned on the morning news like she always did, as I was (ironically) beginning my History homework.

I didn't get my schoolwork done that day.

I spent the next 9 hours watching the ongoing news coverage of the events from the day before, pausing long enough only to eat or go to the bathroom. I can imagine myself staring at the TV wide-eyed, my face a mask of shock and disbelief. I had never seen anything like this before in my life, not in any movies or anything; and this was NOT a movie I was watching. With each replay of the planes' impact, with every survivor interviewed about their missing loved ones, every replay of the Towers falling to their demises, I felt myself instantly aging. I suddenly realized that life wasn't a bed of roses. I realized that not all people are pure in heart. I realized that bad things, terrible things can happen to good people. I realized that even the youngest of people could be instantly killed off in a single act of cruelty.

I realized, that Life...is so much more than my childish mind could Imagine...

My parents returned from the doctor, and I blankly got in the car and returned home with them. I don't remember much after that, almost like I had been turned into an empty shell. All I could remember was the face of a young woman who was frantically searching for her fiance. She tried to talk to an on-sight newscaster, showing pictures and giving all known information in hopes of finding her beloved, but she broke down in sobs and could not finish her plea for help. I do remember sharing this story with my father, trying to cling to what innocence I had left. "Let me know, dad. Watch the news, I wanna see how happy she is when they find him. They're gonna find him, dad. All those people missing, they're gonna find them..." I remember saying something along those lines. But even as I tried to cling to the hope that the happy ending was on its way, embedded in my mind were the images of people caught on video trying to escape the flames by jumping out of the WTC...to their deaths. I remember scrambling to make sense of it all, insisting that everyone would be found safe and the bad guys would pay and the world would be a happy place again. I clung to the hope of my fairy tale ending, even as I knew inside that this would not happen, and that the worst was yet to come. I was stuck between the girl I was on Monday - carefree and innocent - and an older, wiser girl who hated humanity and what we were capable of. An inner battle was raging inside me, and I wanted it to end.

But the war was just beginning.

Headlines were glaring; President Bush had officially declared that we were at War. Servicemen were being called to action and sent to Afghanistan, while recruiters began their biggest enlistment campaigns since the end of the World Wars. Everyone I knew had a family member being sent overseas, and I became afraid. I asked my dad if he was going to go away to, and he assured me that he wasn't. I began to slip back into an innocent, oblivious childhood, believing that the worst was over and I didn't have to worry about things like that anymore.

But then my illusion was broken.

A few years had passed, and I had pretty much forgotten about 9/11 and the war. I was never able to completely return to the person I was before that day, but I was pretty close to it. I had no cares in the world, except starting Junior High, looking cool, and getting good roles in CYT productions. One day, my oldest (and favorite) cousin, Jake, called my dad and asked to come talk to us. He asked that we all be there, for it was serious. When he got to our house, we all sat down in the living room to hear what he had to say. He gave a full explanation of how he wanted to help, and felt led to join the Armed Forces in some way to help out with things and how he argued with God that he would do anything except to join the Marines. After giving us this full explanation, he informed us that he had finally come to a decision, one he felt God had wanted him to do all along, and his plans were already in motion. He was joining the Marines, and would be leaving for Boot Camp within a few months. The war finally hit home for me, and I became depressed as it all came rushing back. I was supposed to have rehearsal for Bell Choir that night, and didn't want to go. My dad insisted that I go, seeing how upset I was. Sure enough, when I walked into Bells that night, Andrea, Betty Jo, and the others instantly saw I was upset and asked what was wrong. I told them about Jake, and they held off on rehearsal for a few minutes to pray for my cousin to be safe, and for me to be at peace.

Jake was to be sent to Iraq. That christmas, my Uncle Bill took a picture of all the grandkids, as we were together for the last time before Jake left and didn't know when he would be with us at christmas again.

Time passed. It had been nearly five years since the War began. Jake had been with the Marines for a while now, and I was proud to brag about my awesome cousin. By now, I had met my birth family, and now had a brother in the National Guard to brag about as well. I was attending Christian Life High School, and took History from Mrs. Sunday. One day, when we had a free work hour, Mrs. Sunday was reading things online when she instructed one of the guys in class to turn on the TV. She said that while in History class, we were going to witness history. We found a news station, and watched the coverage of the incident in Lebanon. I remember as I watched, I saw a Marine who reminded me of Jake, and I knew that this was like what his unit would do, and I was proud of him so much. I couldn't wait to tell my dad how cool it was. When I did that afternoon, he informed me that early that morning, Jake had called his mom (my aunt) and told her to watch the news. I realized that I actually saw my cousin making History!

The hardest thing about the War, is always the loss. I felt safe even from that; I would hear stories of the dead and think nothing like that could happen to me, let alone anyone I knew.

The illusion is once again broken.

It was the spring of my Junior Year. My best friend was preparing to graduate with the class of '08, I was excited to start Senior Year, choir was preparing for our major Spring competitions, everyone was happily busy with the end of the school year. April 14th, 2008, we learned that the War had invaded the walls of our school. CPL Richard J Nelson, the son of the school's Dean, had been killed by a roadside bomb in the line of duty. Grief struck our school as we all realized how close to home the War could reach, as we watched the grief of the family. Mrs. Nelson, one of the toughest and most amazing women I know (for putting up with some of us), was thrown into the horror of outliving her son. We tried to continue with the school year as normal, returning to a normal daily routine; but we always had this fresh, new grief hanging over us.

And the War raged on. We graduated High School and went on to college. Saddam Hussein was captured and hung. I got married and had children. Then, in May 2011, the news America had waited for 10 years for arrived; Osama Bin Laden was dead. The War had finally reached a point where we could see the light at the end of the tunnel. Soldiers came home. Celebrations were had. People began to pick up their lives. Time to heal our land and our hearts, from the last 10 years of living hell.

That is my story of 9/11.

What do you remember?

The Writings of a Crazed Mind

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