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This morning depression made its way into my life again, yet this time it was extrinsically.  Someone I know gave a few hints about her state of mind– because no matter what anybody says, we still can’t talk about depression openly.  As I commented to her, when some famous comedian commits suicide or a teen in a community takes his or her life, the web blows up with repetitious “We must talk about this openly!” statements and yet…when the fervor dies, it goes back to the  same shame-based situation.

There was a lot to accomplish today and I thought it would be a good idea to drop Ethan’s bike of at the Bike Shop for repair.  The rim was completely thrashed, it being very obvious to the owner what had happened.  What I noticed was this SUPER HOT man there who was doing some typed of bike stuff (duh).  Ohmygawd, he had a tattoo sleeve, not one ounce of body fat and just so…lickable.  We left at the same time and he kept looking at me, yet like an IDIOT, I said nothing, even looking the other way at times.  Goddammit!  No wonder I’m single.  The guy isn’t going to get down on one knee to ask for my attention.  What the fuck am I expecting here?

Off to Winco then back home where I started decorating.  Before I left the house, I had painted a big “We will miss you , Jen!” sign and now that it was dry, I hung it up, along with the balloons I blew up to the tunes of the 80s – those glorious days when kids didn’t really have opinions other than “Wow, that’s a great band” or “Man, that teacher really sucks.”  It’s interesting that when we are young we “know so little”, yet we are quite open-minded and accepting.  As we grow older we gain knowledge yet our minds close up like a trap.  We are not open to further investigation and perhaps seeing there is a better way.

Food was soon set up and ready and right on time, the guests started arriving.   It was a beautiful evening filled with laughter and conversation 9there was groovy music playing, too).  I enjoy gathering like this, despite way too much food (now I have cupcakes and nachos). I’m grateful as hell that I have a swimming pool I can lap in  – if I ever get down there.

No philosophical words today (though I had a ton of thoughts earlier)…I’m tired as it was a very busy day.  Early bed, though I am enjoying sitting on the deck on this warm Autumn night.  Damn, I’m gong downhill.  8:27 on a Saturday night.

Pictures: Party vibes; Party scene…ok maybe “party” is too strong – “gathering”?

Last night my son did something I never expected:  He grabbed a notebook and started writing out math equations, showing me how he solves them.  Then he showed me an easier way he had discovered to solve other math equations on his own.  Natasha was right – he is a pattern seeker.  He told me he enjoys going to math now – that it’s fun challenges.  I emailed the teacher this morning, thanking her for this child she has been able to teach in a subject he hated.  She wrote back immediately, saying what an incredible kid he is, that he takes good notes and even refused her offer of less problems because he wants the challenge.  Holy shit.

 

Well, hell.  I met my people for a meeting about buying a house.  It can happen, yes…but it would be better and smarter to wait until I’ve finished my hours and become licensed.  Dammitdammitdammitdammit.  Why do I choose such low paying careers?  I hate it.  The first thought I had, however, was that I got to spend more time with Wicked Tree, so I guess that’s cool.  As I sat at Café Santoro, I noticed many yellow and sunflower balloons floating in the air.  I knew immediately it was for Sabrina and that Miss Lisa’s Montessori school had released them for her. Sabrina worked here, if I’m not mistaken.  What a beautiful way for the precious littles to celebrate her life.

I facilitated my next group at work and though the material is dry, I think it went fairly well.  Then, paperwork and billable phone calls.  I understand the nonprofits need to bill more because to be honest, we are getting the bottom half of the short end of the stick (my new saying).  I hesitate because billing for these things takes away time from the client, but … let’s try it for a bit and see how it goes.  I also began moving my desk after all.  The person who was supposed to take the desk won’t be doing so and the other person already has a desk.  So I’ll take the desk.  This way I can feel J-Ber’s vibes.

I headed to the car and…Jake had texted me.  I had forgotten about today’s workout.  He was not happy, but he got paid for it anyway, so the short words he used were really not necessary.  To make up for it I  immediately went to In-Shape sports club and signed up there (this is passive-aggressiveness.  I often use it when a “fuck you” isn’t appropriate).  They have a pool, hot tub, steam bath, etc, plus kick as circuits that work the whole body, which is more of what my back needs.  Plus I can hang out with my kids in the hot tub.  There ya have it, Jake.

Picked up the kiddos from school, and we came home to clean.  After the house was Mostly-Cleaned (I even almost started a cleaning-pattern) Mags retreated to her room and Ethan went to ride bikes while they waited for Larry to pick them up.  I was looking up party-food recipes when I heard the door to the garage door slam and heard a breath.  Fuck.  He’s hurt.  Sure enough, Ethan had road rash on his side and elbow. His thumb was hurt, too.  I had never seen a road rash this bad.  The poor kid was in such pain I gave him one of my Norcos (please don’t tell the authorities) and contacted L.  I cleaned it with hydrogen peroxide while we waited – about 30 minutes later L showed up with Tegaderm and gauze, plus ointment (though I’d already put Paw-Paw ointment on).  Poor kid.  So much pain – and his bike is screwed up.  Seems it shifted gears, the chain slipped and he did a front flip over the bike after having pedaled as fast as he could.  Kid wasn’t wearing his helmet, either, and I got after him for that because this is how you end up with head injuries.  Dad and I treated the wounds and eventually the Norco kicked in and he wasn’t hurting as badly.  I’d hate to be him tomorrow, but it could have been so much worse.  Little blessings.

Pictures: Equationing: Road rashing. 

This morning was the “first” day of Autumn…and I’m so fucking glad.  I don’t care about pumpkin spice (I finally tasted the Starbucks stuff 2 years ago and think it’s just as bad as everything else they sell – though I LOVE the things the company stands for and supports), I still don’t own a pair of Uggs, my thighs and ass are too damn flappy to be wearing anything form-fitting, but I LOVE the earlier nights, I LOVE chilly days, I FUCKING LIVE FOR RAIN and so Autumn is my favorite season.

Group supervision and it was a fairly okay one.  Still only two of us but this is the part of the program where I am the “senior” in school and we have a new freshman.  Expecting another freshman soon.  Then off to a school site.  I DIG this school site because it is where I would have ended up if I hadn’t been shipped off to boarding school and our town had one of these, I think.  Most excellent session.  Having a good relationship with the client is important.

Back to office and off to next site.  Two sessions here and these are tough.  I am so grateful for the childhood I had; I am so grateful for the childhood I was able to give to my kids.  Some of these kids have been through the worst and have serious attachment issues having been born into such horrible environments.

The thing about eating too much Mexican food as an unhealthy coping mechanism (because let’s face it – I love Mexican foot, but I’m not stupid, I need to stop eating it) is there is always a consequence for our actions.  In this particular case it is some of the worst heartburn I have ever had – even worse than pregnancy.  I stopped to buy Tums and have been munching them like bon-bons, but finally, (After my dinner burrito with hot sauce which I didn’t even enjoy) I stopped at the store to buy Zantec.  The problem here  is, my alcoholic mindset jumped in:  If one Zantec is good (I was still heartburning after an hour) then two is better.  Nope.  There are explicit instructions on not to have more than 2 in 24 hours – so now I need to wait until tomorrow night before eating another.

Mags and The Boy were dropped off around 7.  Maggie had a volleyball game at a school and they presented  all the volleyball and flag football team players with a rose, the ribbon holding a lovely tag  “In which read “In memory of Coach Sabrina.”  They also had a sign with balloons in our school colors and logos which they had on the field.  What a beautiful, compassionate thing to see.

Mags had won her game, which guarantees them a place in the tournament.  This is the first reason I’m not going to Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Festival, despite the Hips playing that day.  The second reason is because there is a memorial service for Sabrina that day and after her tourney, we will go to the service.  Ethan had turned in his first written essay for peer review and received it with corrections, so we worked on that.  He claims to have never learned how to do this and come to think of it., I don’t recall ever seeing any, but I shall explore that, because I don’t really believe him.   I don’t mind helping him at all, however…writing is my jam and even though I may not explain it well, it excites me.  We lit a fire for the first time tonight to celebrate this glorious season.  The kids and I adore hanging out in front of fires, watching war movies and such.  What a glorious life I get to have.

Pictures:  The roses presented to CMP athletes by Mountain Creek Middle School; Ethan starts the first fire of the year.

I saw clouds, or, more precisely, I saw the gray of the sky peeking through the black of the clouds before the sun rose.  This was an excellent sign.  Sure enough, I saw posts about rain in the city (Sacramento, not SF) and as the sky grew lighter, waves of rain-bands hung in the distance.  I fucking love the rain (I understand that f-bombs are not necessary for everything, but I really wanted to convey how much I love the rain).

Mags was quite dizzy this morning and said she was having a hard time seeing straight because the room was spinning.  Maggie isn’t one to be fake-sick;  I was a pro-fake-sicker.  Come to think about it, both of my kids have been incredible in terms of illness in school…(I hope I didn’t just jinx myself).  She didn’t want to miss school because of a math test and her volleyball game (shows the difference right there – I would be sick because of math tests), but the dizziness reigned, so I left her at home.  I dropped my boy off at his school and headed up the hill with the rain….

This kid is just ADORABLE!  My client was fantastic and such a breath of fresh air.  This shorter, newer person is the one who suggested I dress as Swiss Cheese for Halloween, so after supervision (where I ate my first lunch) and having VINCL (very-important-nacho-consult), J-Ber and I headed to check out the Halloween sitch at Kmart, where I found perfect Swiss braids.  As I drove back to work I put the braids on and walked into the office.  I did catch some stares from people driving in the parking lot, but the folks I work with?  Nothing.  Not one peep.  This is the place I work….Where I SING to everyone, I laugh, I joke…and yet…

…there is this other side to me – the over-analytical, tear it down to the bare bones to try to figure it all out when all I end up doing really is spinning my own wheels.  I realized that  I’m unable to recall a night  when, since I was 9 years old and  deciding what to think about (I really did this) as I went to sleep that I ever had a light-bulb-over-my-head-epiphany moment.  I may have just spent the last 3 plus decades aiming for something that doesn’t even really happen.

Late work, off to volleyball (Maggie was apparently serving GREAT until I showed up…I am beginning to see a pattern).  Grocers and home by 6:45, where no one had energy enough to COOK the food and so Mags made fish sticks, I ate leftovers from last night and Ethan…well, he’d eaten with dad.  He wanted to try night driving and we did have to take down the posters he’s put up for the lost dog we found last night (ours had also escaped for a third time).  He’s becoming so adulty…except for the times when he’s trying to lick me <don’t even ask – this kid goes from 4 years to 14 to 28 in a matter of seconds>.  How awesome it is to reflect on the last weeks and be graced with these awesomely-every-day moments.  This is something I have done for years because there was a time I didn’t get to take home my September 14^th baby, there was a time, I didn’t have the relationship in my immediate family the way I do now (in my youth – not this family).  I was able to learn so much about life…about choices…about reality.  I’m so damn grateful for the relationship I have with my kids and felt so much emotion recently.  Holy shit…after talking to Sabrina’s dad last night… I just cannot imagine.

Pictures:  It doesn’t get much more normal than this – a teenage girl on the phone getting fish sticks out of the oven; My boy doing his first night driving. 

The sky was somber this morning – there was such a seriousness about it; very obstinate for some unknown reason.  I soon saw why – a cherry-red sun rose…Surya flashing all his might around.  Early morning Tuesday – meaning I had to be up the hill by 8:30.  As much as I hate the rushing, these kids have it down.  Props to the folks on the freeway – they all moved to the right side, earning a well-deserved high-five from me (I really congratulate people on proper blinker use and driving in the right lane.  I’m not kidding about starting a Face Book page called “Drive Right”).  The morning started off with a bit of news that my ears (sadly) perked up for:  Angelina had filed for divorce from Brad.  Yep, I’m Team Jen – a marriage built on an affair doesn’t work.

Off to school, where I quickly saw one student then was off to Pollock Pines to co-facilitate the parenting group.  The former AOD facilitator for my work place had told us she referred 12 women from the treatment facility she now worked for, but it was more like 20 – people, mostly women poured into the meeting hall.  After the group, I raced back to school on heard a bit of NPR:  A show on desired guests for a dinner party.  What polar opposites….I had just come from a place where many of the women  were fighting for their lives (I know because I was one of them once) and trying to break the chains – and here is this man talking about Voltaire, his partner Émilie du Châtelet, Nora Ephron and various other noted persona and serving cassoulet because it is comfort food yet will always invoke a culinary argument over the makings of the sausage.  There could not have been more contradicting differences in these two things.

The day – the LONG day – came to an end when I headed to Maggie’s volleyball game in Pollock Pines, bringing with it something uncomfortable.  It is interesting how the shades of light from the sun and a very specific temperature of the air can retrieve a pang in my subconscious.  Something which floats just under the surface – too far to be recalled, yet close enough to remind me that I have done some not-so-great things in my life.  We all have, I know…I’m not debasing myself any more so than usual.  I just like to keep myself in check.   Once again, that punch-to-the-gut and an uncontrollable whimper when I saw all the girls in the black Team Sabrina tee-shirts they had decorated yesterday.  I sat alone by the wall, isolating intentionally despite seeing the co-mother of my faux daughter in the bleachers. I saw the opposing team had a Wolverine mascot and I mourned a little that  our team didn’t have a red hawk mascot – even more so because as a red hawk mascot, I could dance my ass off, earn parent volunteer hours to my heart’s content and quite possible be invited to Broadway.  Yes – I’m the same one that isolates intentionally (But I’ve got some wicked dance moves).

One the car drive down to Starbucks (Maggie’s request – I only do it when I’m about to die), I promised Maggie and her friend that I would change their lives by introducing them to some Christopher Cross and then did so (“Sailing” brings back such memories of Miss Ann’s Dance Studio, where we warmed up to this song for a solid year).  After, we waited for Ethan at his FFA meeting (YES – the boy attends so he can earn points to get a good grade – and he does this on his own) and headed to the local restaurant for a fundraiser for the Preszler/Tindall family.

THERE WERE CARS LINING THE STREET – people were pouring out of the restaurant, waiting everywhere to get in.  It was so refreshing to see.  This school has come together so strongly to support this family and more will be done.  This is one of our own.  The wait was too long, so many of us went to a pizza restaurant owned by the same person which was offering the fundraiser as well.  The kids and I sat by some kids I had taught long ago.   I was able to embarrass Maggie just enough to keep her in check, while entertaining her friends (I taught them the importance of internet safety, explaining that an inappropriate picture in high school will follow them the rest of their lives).  Life is about balance – live hard, laugh hard, and find your tribe, for they will be there to support you in times of need.

Pictures: The 2016 Lady Hawks volleyball team; Supporting at Pizza Factory.  Community is everything.

 

 

 

 

The night ended too quickly; heat permeated the room in this – the inaugural “autumn.”  Giggle…right? Not in Central-Northern California.  It was in the upper nineties this weekend, which, I’m praying, is the last heatwave we’ll have this year.  Truth didn’t hit me until yesterday in the garage, as I cleaned out a bin of my clothing:  2 coats, a wool cape (really), 2 thick sweatshirts and ice skates.  That’s not even counting the coats and jackets I have inside.  It became clear to me that I have lived in the wrong place my entire life – I need cold.  Interestingly enough, I recently read an anthropological article on the significance of my ancestors – pale-skinned/blue-eyed migrants –  wandering north from Africa all those millennia ago –it was too hot.  No shit, Sherlock.

I lost a lot of pounds this morning and it was extremely freeing.  After dropping off the kids at school, I headed to a Montessori preschool and donated all my bins.  I am hoping these are items she can use – we used similar things when I interned in a pre-school so long ago.  Seeing those adorable little faces helped shift my day from the quick tears that had once again erupted from my eyes when I passed by the sign the kids had hung on the fence at school after dropping Mags off.  Twenty years old.  How did that happen?!!

I headed to work where a lot of prep awaited me – today was my first group facilitation.  Big fancy word, that:  “facilitation”  It might lead people to assume I know what the hell I’m doing, which I kinda do…some days…a little…not really.  It’s funny because as I sit here next to my son, helping guide him in literature, I told him he does know what he’s doing, even if he doesn’t feel like it – and I gave myself as an example.  I absolutely love that this kid – this 14 year old who has experienced 30 less trips-around-the-sun than I is in exactly the same position as me AND HE ISN’T EVEN ADULTING THE WAY I AM!!  This is a tremendously important point to me – that yes, kids may not be as experienced as most grown-ups, but we are all pretty much in the same place…just trying to get through our day with a little more success than yesterday.

There were a lot of people at the CMP football game.  My former boss at the high school was there to assist Sabrina’s husband in coaching. I had collected some resources for the family and  gave them to her mom, but in all honesty, it might be too early for that kind of stuff, though I had told Des I would bring the support group info.  They are still in the hurricane – the eye of the storm hasn’t reached them yet as they are still in shock of losing Sabrina.    Jackie saw me and waved me over to where she was seated – she had helped me find the Preszler’s ICU room at the hospital. There were so many old faces present – parents and students I hadn’t seen in years, the faces I had forgotten about yet were such an every-day part of life not so long ago, but in a whole different lifetime.– yet what a horrific reason for a reunion.

Home, where I obediently cooked my healthy dinner.  Day two. Why am I so fucking obsessed with my weight?  I mean, I think I look pretty ok, but I hurt – and I’m not even talking about back pain.  My “chunk” (this is what the kids and I named it years ago) hurts – like my body has too much weight and is stretched too far.  So I limit my eating for a minute, then go on a nacho run or a burrito binge. Motherfucker, I have got to watch myself.  I am thinking it would be wise to join In-shape with the kids, so we could all go together (Ethan has been wanting to workout).  That way I could swim, and one of the officers in juvenile hall sad they have a terrific all-body circuit that you finish in 30 minutes.  Then I could be a badass and fit into my clothes again. Oh…wait a minute.  I may have a nudity excuse here….

Pictures:  Coach Sabrina surrounded by hearts; Hearts surrounding Coach Tindall

I think it’s a little bit of survivor’s guilt.  I was a sensitive child, sure, but it was that I awoke after my coma, that I walked away from my hospital visit (well, after I re-learned how to walk) that brings this guilt.  I walked into her hospital room, saw her on the monitors and machines and tears flew out of my eyes…I couldn’t look at this young woman whom I had JUST SEEN at a flag football game.  When my head hits the pillow at night I see her, body shaking uncontrollably with tremors as her brain was trying so desperately to communicate with body parts.  And then to get that text Saturday morning, that her body had given up.  I want to wrap the family in my heart and cry with them, because this isn’t how it was supposed to be, and yet it happened.

I had a house-full, or to be more honest, a trampoline full of girls who had spent the night last night (which is the reason why I wore a nightgown).  I needed to get in there to get my coffee started, but I’m in this nightgown-thing and am wearing my glasses.  My boobs are all floppy – is this appropriate to wear?  That’s when my inner-me kicked in and told the outer-me that hey!  These are young females – they could 1) give a flip less what you are wearing 2) they have moms too, who have floppy boobs in the pre-bra morning and 3) well, I guess I only two basic points.  Coffee started, soon it was ingested and the girls were all so focused on their smart phones anyway that I’m not sure they even saw me.

I needed to get the garage started – which I did.  I went through my Montessori stuff and am dropping it by a pre-school tomorrow.  I’m not getting rid of the sound-box materials, that was way too much work and I can use the items for sand-tray in therapy, but everything else is thrown away or donated.  If I ever do teach again I’ll start over with many things.  I then went through my past.  Dammit, there is too much here that will have to be thrown away by my kids.  I did get rid of a lot of stuff, but some of my memories can’t be thrown away…they made me who I am.

I wrote out some resources and support groups for the family – I will bring it to the football game tomorrow.  All day long I’ve been Giving My Life Purpose – I finally got those two items from my letterman’s jacket – the letter and the stitching with my name – reunited after being separated how many decades? I got the kids school pictures sorted (mostly) and together  – I’m not even sure I ever gave them to any family…oops.  And then I cooked dinner, which the kids and I enjoyed sitting, talking, and you better believe I sucked in every moment.

While digging through the garage today, I came upon something I haven’t seen in a long, long time.  Long ago, when I was a child, my dad’s cousin climbed high into the Austrian alps and picked two Edelweiss which he gave to me.  He died shortly after bringing the flowers to America.  I was also reminded how a schoolmate of mine lost her daughter nine years ago yesterday and she noticed today that we share the same middle name.  It isn’t that I am making or attempting to make these deaths about me in any way shape or form –   I’m not.  Death is a part of all of us.  We are all affected by it, are all given a grim reminder that one day, we shall meet it, too.  When I cross paths with death, I feel it, trust me.  It hurt when my dad passed away almost 6 years ago, but I also knew that my dad had lived a full life, even if it was cut a little shorter by the choices he made.  It is the deaths like that of Sabrina, who was twenty, or the death of Oliver, who died the day before he was due, or the death of my own Ryan, who died because he wouldn’t have made it to his due-date and could have killed me in the process that leave me numbed to the core.  I talk about death to my kids.  They know and are pretty excited about the fact that I’m going to become a tree when I go.  So why do I get so affected?   I wish I could answer that.

Pictures: The girls playing volleyball in the street;  my girl and my faux-girl honor their  school’s coach.

 

She took her last breath at 6:20 this morning.  Des, the amazing coach at our school, let me know by text  that Sabrina had died on this morning, the 7^th week anniversary of her wedding.  I cannot even begin to imagine what her husband is experiencing, her brother, her parents.

So on this day of Maggie’s 13^th birthday party, I did my damnedest to experience and feel as much of the day as I could.  I drove the Durango, filled with girls and on the way I invited them into the lives of my own children and shared important life-lessons. The first of these were key driving points such as Drive right!  The left lane is for passing; Don’t trust mirrors, always check your blind spot and The other drivers aren’t psychic, use your blinkers.   I feel successful in passing on important lessons like these.  Bowling was fun for the girls…at one point early on I hugged L and burst into tears.  He reminded me today is a happy day so I went to wash away the tears.

The drive home was magical- a car full of girls, singing, giggling with glee, waving at other cars, it was truly a refreshing step into the past getting to sing along with these kiddos as my heavy heart mouthed the words, even though it wasn’t really singing.

I spoke with my sister – got to cry to her as I feel I can’t really turn to anyone else here.  What am I going to do?  Cry to my 13 year old girl?  This is where hugging L today was helpful – brief as it was, and of course the timing was wrong.  This is what we need as humans – we need touch and that’s one reason why I hugged the family even though the dad had no idea who I was.

The evening was spent listening to girls, chatting with my friend, and pondering – thinking of a thousand ways to make my life more meaningful from This Moment Forward and yet – does that ever happen?  For someone like me, it is doing the Next Indicated Thing…trying to think one thought at a time and moving forward.  You can’t STOP to try to make life be more, because it IS more.  It simply requires us to become more aware and appreciate that which is given to us with every morning.  Some days are shitty.  Others are glorious…most of them fall somewhere in between, but this is where we can take a few moments to appreciate them.  This evening I committed  to making a change in my life.   I’d like to get back to a more active lifestyle, so I plan to get moving, to live more than I have been as of late.  I am also going to appreciate those in my life more because they can slip away…just like that.  Rest well, Sabrina.  Your life was short, but you impacted so many in such an incredible way.

Pictures: Bowling fun

I did something that I have never done before: after I drop the kids off at school – (Maggie at 7 and Ethan at 8), I took a melatonin and went back to sleep for a little bit.   During this time of slumber, I am thrilled to report that I had sex for the first time in forever.  This guy with a full-on beard was helping me set up digital photographs, he kissed me and nature took its course.  I didn’t dream about the actual act of sex, of course, but I do remember what happens after going to first base, so I put the pieces together myself.  So damn sad…I can barely get laid in my dreams.

After I awoke, I prepared to go visit Sabrina and help support her family.  I wanted to pick up a card and some flowers, but every place I visited had no flowers.  I’ve never quite understood the purpose of flowers, anyway.  When I die – use the flower money to go eat or get an ice cream with your loved ones, instead.  When I arrived, I was shocked.  I had expected the machines and ventilator.  I didn’t expect to see her trembling the way she was – this girl I had seen a week prior on a field.  Her mom – Kris, was there and gave me her hand, so I held it and told her Ethan and Maggie sent their love and to fight back.  But of course…she couldn’t.  I spoke with Kris away from Sabrina and shared that I vividly remembered seeing and hearing my classmates at a point when I was still in my coma.  I think this helped her a little, but I also think she is able to see her daughter’s mysterious condition for what it is.

On the drive back,   I talked to my mom, and found it comforting. She had also spent time with someone in a coma once, long ago, but that story ended completely differently than this one will, from what I was told by medical professionals.    That breaks my heart.

I headed to the store, gathering things for Maggie’s party tomorrow.  It’ll be an early get-up as we are meeting at 10.  The fabulous thing (I suppose?) about a 13 year old is I was able to pick up a few bottles of such and such (that’s fancy speak for orange Fanta and lemonade) and a Winco pizza, some cinnamon rolls for breakfast and that’s it.  No party decorations or favor bags.  Low maintenance.  Now, if we can just do something about the noise level.

I drive back to the hospital – not because I am needed there but because I had said I would be back. I think the one thing that is helpful to people in such a time of crisis is support.   And a tremendous outpouring of support was there for Sabrina and her family:  friends, childhood friends, CMP students, parents and teachers.  I am so fucking angry that this happened to her – I don’t understand WHY and I don’t understand HOW.  It was heartbreaking to see her newlywed husband’s hands shaking as he read through the handmade cards from the young students at CMP.   It was horrible standing by her father as he read through other cards made by kids who love Sabrina and hearing the tears in his throat.   This is heart-wrenching.  The nurse told me tomorrow they will take off the ventilator.  My thoughts are with these incredible people.

Picture: At UC Davis Medical Center

I can’t start off with my usual morning remembrances..there is too much tragedy going on and my head is trying to comprehend it all – trying to make sense of it, which, I know, is hopeless.  There is never a satisfactory explanation when bad things happen to good people.  One thing that does stand out from this morning is this:  as we left our home, ready to begin our work days, the kids noticed a bird sitting in a puddle, giving itself a glorious bath.  I’m not sure why that struck me the way it did.

After watching my children for just a moment longer as I dropped them off at school, I got to work. I had spoken to my mom briefly – it was good to hear her voice.  Once in the office, I was extremely cheerful, channeling Wayne Brady and singing in the hallways, because I have to:  I’m alive.  My kids are alive.  Our lives are SO BEAUTIFUL.  I am living on the other side of that broken mirror.  Group supervision for 2 hours, then I continued cleaning and organizing my desk.  I learned I cannot take over J-Ber’s desk because it has been reserved for someone working with a specific grant we have, so instead I cleaned things out – I was THAT close to completely  organizing my life, but I didn’t want the others to be jealous so I slowed that shit downnnn….

VINCL with J-Ber (that’s Very Important Nacho Consult Lunch).  Over globs of delicious melted cheese we discussed clients and possibilities.  I understand there are many people and populations that I would not fit well with, but I feel I could relate to and help out a specific group a great deal.  I headed to my next site.  I had a huge break-through with a client…after months of work, the client has finally begun, as I put it, to take down the bricks placed around the client’s heart.  I cannot even describe the  emotions….

Another volleyball game – I walked in, sat down by Ethan, filled him in on his coach, that her family is saying their final goodbyes, then had to leave as tears poured down my face.  Maybe I’m too hypersensitive and NO, I don’t  “know” her – but I spent years talking to her mom at work, at school sports games.  She coached my kid, she IS a kid! She is twenty years old and was married 6 weeks ago – this is so fucked up.  I understand “life” – a car accident, a fire, an illness…but this?  A healthy, athletic, strong young woman just stops breathing as she sleeps?

So I took my beloved children home from the volleyball games (both won), and I laughed with them, I hugged them,  I helped put their old baby socks  on the dogs, I helped with homework, I danced, I sang with my kids.  I have always been told from my own mother that life has no guarantees, and tragically our CMP family has been reminded of that yet again.  Yet I also know the impossibility of remaining completely conscious of life’s sublimity – because it’s LIFE; we get angry or impatient or frustrated.  One cannot Maria Von Trapp through everything…as often our hill’s aren’t  alive with music.  Still, make an effort – every day – to stop and SMELL THOSE ROSES.  I do not exaggerate one bit… I smell each of the rose bushes before entering the office.  I give my soul the gift of this by  appreciating its beauty…life is short.

Picture:  A bird’s bath.