#healthy me

(all photos in the frames are from Devine Photography)

When Christopher was told he had cancer I was the type of person that read through as many white papers, online articles and books I could find to find out more about cancer. I wanted to know everything I could about it. How it grows. Why it happens. What have people found to make going through treatments easier? In the end I was a wealth of cancer knowing information. 

I took everything that I had read and applied it to our lives. I changed the way we ate. How we went about our daily lives. Christopher even went as far to try mental warfare on his cancer. Whatever it took; we did it. When Christopher passed away I knew right away what this all meant for my muppet. His chances for cancer are higher than most kids, but he has leg up on those other kids because his mom knows the type of cancer that he might be predisposed to and how to fight it before it can ever happen. It's not all about diet, but most if it is. 

See colon cancer LOVES a diet that is high in fat and low in fiber. And I won't lie when I read that fact I had to shake my head and ask myself why no one told Christopher this when his mom was diagnosed with cancer. But then again when she was diagnosed her doctors also told her she could drink soda and fatty foods to keep the weight on during chemo and NOW we know that was wrong because cancer eats sugar for breakfast, lunch and dinner. 

So knowing all that I do know about cancer and how it "thinks" so to speak I change the way my house thinks about food. I don't buy canned foods (green beans don't come from a can around my house). I cut out red meat for most of our diet. This means very little pork and steak. Yes you heard me right - pork. Pork is NOT the other white meat. Ask any nutritionist and they will confirm what I just typed. Pork is so high in fat that it's actually classified as red meat on a nutritional scale. 

Now while all this sounds great and YAY me for doing all this for Ethan. I sorta left me as a loop hole. Yes when all this changed I lost around 40 pounds (basically I lost all the extra baby weight that I was struggling to get rid of). But then I hit a wall. I could run, workout, and try my hardest to keep losing weight, but I never really could get below a certain weight and feel like I was making progress. Then a friend of mine got really into fitness. She was doing what I did with cancer. She poured over books and read everything she could about it (following her on twitter was an eye opener - follow her on Twitter at @SheIsStrong). 

It made me want to change the way I saw myself. I've always viewed myself as physically strong (heck I carried a 45 pound Ethan almost a quarter of a mile asleep on my shoulder one night on the way back from Disney World and didn't blink an eye). I'm strong for someone who's only 5' 2". But I've never been happy with the amount of fat that I carry around. Yep I said it. FAT. Want to hear it again? FAT. FAT. FATTY. FAT. You know that little extra stuff you carry around your middle. Muffin top? Love handles? Buddha belly? Whatever you want to call it - I got a little of it. And it's all from drinking too much soda, eating fast food at lunch when I shouldn't and snacking on tasty treats that pop up into the office or my house.

Now don't get me wrong. I'm 5'2" and 127lbs (on an average day). I'm not overweight when you look it up on the height and weight ratio - but I am what you might call "skinny fat". I carry around a little extra fat than someone else my size. So my goal this year wasn't to lose weight. It's to lose fat. And yes, losing fat will cause me to loose weight - BUT that is not the goal.

Ok hear me out. If I say I want to lose weight; the average person (myself included) would try to watch calories, maybe cut carbs and work out harder. However, when you change the way your mind thinks (like wanting to lose fat over weight) you allow yourself to eat more fruit than normal or not take that one Hersey's Kiss because only one has 25 calories (or whatever it is that we tell ourselves). I can continue to work out the same amount as I do without having to kill myself with hours upon hours of work outs.

I guess the bottom line is Ethan only has one parent and I need to make sure that I am there for him through as many years as I can. My honest goal is to live to be 100. Yeah I said it. I want to see my muppet turn 70! Yeah yeah - big goals; but hey I dream BIG! ;)

Now for those people who want to try and change the way their mind thinks about health, food and working out I strongly suggest checking out CoachCalorie.com. This site is amazing! More than amazing - I've learned so much and just taking a few articles that I've read and applied the thoughts behind them to my life over the past 5 days I've lost 2lbs. Yes that's more than I want for a week (I really don't want to lose more than a pound a week if I lose weight), but what that tells me is that my body was used to all the C-R-A-P I put into it. It means that there is nothing wrong with my metabolism and it's running at the pace it should be. I was just putting all the wrong things into my body for it to do what it needed to do. 

What did I change you might ask? Well I didn't go cold turkey on soda; I just told myself that I could have one can (or small glass) of soda a day for two weeks. Then I will go to every other day, to once a week, to none at all. It's hard. Don't get me wrong when I went out to eat recently it was hard to order water when I normally go for a Coke. But I did it and I was proud of myself for doing it (hint: order it with a lime in it if you don't like the way water taste - it adds a little something to it). I also bring my breakfast, lunch and snacks to work everyday and I sit the lunch bag right on my desk to remind me that it's there (it also keeps me out of the break room from anything that might tempt me). I'm changing things slowly and benefiting from it already. 

For anyone that wants to follow what I do I'm going to post on the Living Strong Facebook page some of my meals and workout with the hashtag of #healthyme. It's just another way to keep my self honest and moving forward towards a healthier and happier me in 2012. I challenge all of you out there who want to change what they see in their lives to start now. Not in a month or when things slow down in your life. NOW. TODAY. Right this second even. Our lives are our gifts to ourselves and our children. And like my parents taught me - any gift from anyone is a gift that should be accepted and accepted with graditude because it means that someone took time out to think about us. So start thinking about a healthier you. Take care of the greatest gift we have. Ourselves. For all those people that bring joy into your life. Make 2012 a #healthyme.

The Music Man

Ever have those moments when your iPod falls onto a song that you haven't listened to in awhile, or you put a new or lost CD in your player only to come across the most beautiful song that fills your heart with meaning and excites the mind in ways that you thought might never happen? For me it happens a lot. So much so, that a lot of my blog posts are all inspired through the thoughts that are manifested through the gentle sounds that fill my ears and float through my head. Honestly, if music left this world, this artist would surely struggle and possibly starve. It's the one thing in my life that has helped me through so much (musical therapy if you will) and yet it's the one thing that continuously grows with no end in sight.

Music (in any form) is a lyrical symposium of an infinite creative play on words, notes, metaphors and harmonic symphonies; that plays on every sense that fills my soul. It spins a web through the complex emotions that maze through my mind and allows those feelings that I can't always put into words and sanctions them to escape on the back of tunes that help me let go of sorrow, take hold of joy and feel the warmth of memories that I fear I will lose one day.

Each year I have written a letter to Christopher about how much he still amazes me and how much even after time has passed that I still love him with the wholest of my heart. I write to Ethan about the amazing strides that he has over come and how such a small little person changed my life and did wonders when I needed it the most. And all he had to do was smile to make that happen. I write about what I do on those days that are still milestones in my life and what making it through another year means me, but this year things are different.

Life for me is different right now. I'm in a place where it's not late breaking news that the woman who lives on the corner lost her husband and she's left to raise a two year old son. I'm the woman on the corner who has brought that two year old to day care, pre-school, other transitions in life and now walks him to kindergarten every morning. I'm the woman on the corner who sits outside on nice nights when the son she adores is asleep and drinks a glass of wine on her front stoop letting her mind swim through her day dreams. I'm the woman who finds the humor in shows she thought she once lost. I am the woman who found her rhythm in life if you will.

Now, with Ethan in school, soccer and faith formation classes (aka Sunday School), there is another part of my life that needs to be addressed and shared for this new year. Since Christopher passed I have watched my single friends date; some poorly, some struggling to find their way through the dating scene and all the while others were skipping joyfully through it finding the loves of their lives. It's something I've watched, marveled at and sometimes closed my eyes and shook my head.

One of the thoughts that run through my head for some time is could I ever commit to another man? Yeah I've blogged about how I want it; well more so that I would like another child or even just the idea of sharing my life with someone else. However, each time after hitting the post button I was always left with the question of "do I really want all that"? I knew front ways, side ways and in all ways that Christopher loved me like no other. I was his queen. His cheerleader. His greatest defender. The love of his life. So honestly, how can any man really see me that way too? Aren't you only supposed to have one love of your life? Am I capable of love at all? That was always a weekly war in my head. How can you fathom to give your heart to someone when so much of it is taken by someone else? The idea of being single seems easy after all that runs through your head.

One lone day during therapy my therapist explained to me that I don't have to share my heart; I just have to learn to let it grow and there will be someone who will not only be ok with the fact that part of my heart beats for someone else; but will understand and love the fact that it does.

Ok wait - back up the bus? What did my therapist say? That someone will love the fact that I'm still in love with someone else? Was my therapist smoking the good stuff; because I couldn't see anyone loving me. Or that someone would love me for my loyalty to the relationship that I had. Because honestly, if I woke up one day and just didn't still care for this man, this man that I write about and pour my heart out about - then what kind of relationship did we have to begin with that I could toss aside the love we had just to be with someone else?

Then I met the Music Man. We both found each other interesting. His grandmother had lost her first husband, leaving her with a daughter of only a few years old.  And he had always heard the story of how God always brings love into your life as long as you allow it. Needless to say, knowing that little fact about him; how in a way, he was on the "other end" of what I was going through was comforting. His mom and her older sister have different fathers and he's the grandson from this other love that his grandmother was brought to. It was almost as if I was being shown that life does go on and here is this family as proof.

We talked. Became friends. We both share a love for music (honestly he's the only person I know who listens to music the same way I do). His music collection completely surpasses mine (hence why I've nicknamed him The Music Man). He was the first person that I had ever met that we could not only talk about the bands we like, but talk about how music made us feel and how sometimes there is a song that has the best lyrics in the world and yet the notes that surround it don't light a candle to it. Or just the opposite. He's the kind of person that when he reads the first paragraph of this blog will get a huge smile to his face because he completely gets it. Because he feels music the same way I do too.

But that isn't even the best part about this man - this Music Man. The best part is we are truly best friends. I have to remind myself from time to time that he never met Christopher because he talks about him like he did. When I'm upset he reminds me of the loving relationship Christopher and I shared and how there is proof in my Muppet. We've spent many a conversation sharing about our lives and our own struggles with what has gone on in them that it feels like we have been friends for more than the short time we really have been. He's been there as a shoulder to cry upon, vent on, share my fears with and as of late he's been a driving force supporting the things I do with Ethan and my own personal goals in life. He is always there when I need the random help.

One of our ongoing conversations is for me to find happiness. He's always stated that for me to love anyone I needed to work on breaking down the wall that I placed around my heart. That what I went through was hard, but I've proven I'm more than a strong woman and now I need to work on bringing the things that make me the happiest inside my heart so I can break the wall that surrounds it from the inside out. Yes, there is a wall around me. I've known it from the day I was told that cancer entered into my life. It's one that I've built stronger and stronger as I've tried to make it through explaining those tough questions that Ethan and life put in front of me. It's one that I didn't think would ever really fall and part of me wanted it to stay because it was easier to have that than to allow life to hurt me again.

Then one day I was on my way out and the Music Man volunteered to watch Ethan for me. While I ran around gathering my things I hear Ethan ask him in a inquisitive tone, "Do you know where heaven is?" My heart and feet stopped in mid beat. All I could think of is, please don't answer this question, I haven't warned you as to what to say…..

Then before I could intervene I heard him say in a kind and gentle voice, "Yes I do. Heaven is where God is. God created heaven."

My little muppet paused and asked back, "Do you think my daddy is in heaven?" Again my heart stopped and my mind raced as to how I was going to jump into this overly innocent conversation between the two.

The Music Man paused and said in the same gentle voice, "Yes I do. And I think he's in a wonderful place where he looks down on you every day." I fought back the tears and continued to get ready to head out. The whole time I was gone I thought how blessed I was that Ethan had asked the Music Man those questions and not some random sitter that might have been there, because he answered them the way I would have wanted him to. The way that I had always written I had hoped that someone would. And down fell a little pebble that surround my heart.

I started to realize that this man who was not only my best friend meant more to me. He was more, but not just because he could answer a question right to Ethan; he was more because he has been the person who understands me. He understands the situation I come from and when tears fall he's the first to let me know that it's not only ok to be upset, but that he is there to talk, listen or let me scream about it and will never shun me for any thoughts that pop into my head and possibly cloud my thoughts.

He's the man that finds it beautiful that I have had such a great love already in my life; because that means that what Christopher and I had was special and that in return makes me a special person. He's the type of man that I would want around my Muppet. He's understanding of any emotions Ethan might have, but doesn't let him get away with sneaking a cookie and is the first to always tell Ethan that he should listen to his mom.

He's the type of person that always tries to find a solution to a problem and does what he can to help out. He's calm. Reserved. He's not a hot head and he's not the kind of person that would fly off the handle just because things don't go his way or as planned. He grounds me when I get upset and balances me. His confidence in me brings me strength I didn't know I have and he drives me to want to be a better person, boss, mom and friend.

Some might think he's weak for his kindheartedness; however, those people are the weak ones who can't see that it takes a strong man to be with someone who still talks about her late husband and the struggles that might come from watching the end of a sappy movie. It takes a strong man to want to be a part of a child's life who isn't even his. It takes a strong man to deal with everything that comes on the mix-tape of my life.

It takes a strong man to do all these things and remain understanding and willing to talk about the things that flood my mind. It takes for me the understanding and balance the Music Man brings to my life - not only as friends, but as someone that I want to share all my thoughts and  things with. 

Thank you Music Man for being there for me. For helping me during those times when I needed it the most. Thank you for being that random song that fills my ears and helps me let go of sorrow, take hold of joy and feel the warmth of memories that I fear I will lose one day. Thank you for being the man that I need in my life right now. And most of all thank you for being that man that I can rest my head on and feel like life has a whole new adventure again. 

What A Year Can Teach Us

Photos from left to right: June - Disney World; June - Ethan's 5th bday; August - First Day of Kindergarden; November - Ethan's 2nd Soccer Game

One of the things I like to do is to sit back and reflect on what the year brought me, taught me and what I took from it. I know allot of people don't do this and I am sure there are people out there that can't wait for this year to pass without even wanting to look back. And yes I've had those years where I can't wait for one to end and hope that the other brings me something better than what I had; but, I've always sat down and reflected on the past. I do this for one main reason - without reflection history is bound to repeat its self and the choices or course of action that made it a bad year might repeat itself too. It's a fact; you have to take what you learned from your mistakes and gathered from your wise choices to help make better choices in the future. It's something I wish more people would do. 

2011 brought me a lot of things. Some things that are worth sharing and some that are not. I learned this year that people can be closed minded and no matter what you tell them - it's always their way. They don't want to be open to idea of letting new people or ideas into their lives. It's sad to think that in this world there a lot of good people and/or ideas and yet some people are so trapped inside their own ideas and thoughts on matters that they never open up and allow these other great people and/or ideas into their lives. I'm not one of these people. I try to see the good in everyone - even those that it might be hard to see past what other people can't. I look deep inside myself to understand people or their thoughts and the reason they are the way they are. The common man (everyone for that matter) is a product of their situations. I like to call it the cause and effect theory. If someone's father lost all their money in the stock market the effect might make the father leary of any type of investment and might even trickle down to the father's children if there is enough talk in the household about it. Everything is life is cause and effect and this is why reflecting back on things is helpful. It keeps random fears from taking over our lives. So as I enter into 2012 I will still try to see the good in all people and be open to their thoughts and ideas; however, I just might be more open to share with those that are closed minded how they need to be more open or show the other side of the coin they refuse to look at.  

I also learned that even with some time that has past there will still be milestones in Ethan's life that will break my heart and bring me joy all at the same time. There will be moments where my heart swells with pride and yet breaks with a sadness that will remain with me for the rest of my years. And while this sadness might lighten as the years past it will always sit in the corner of my heart where my fond memories of the one I love(d) sits. I'm also blessed to have people in life who understand this and embrace it rather than run from it or chastise it. It truly does make me feel blessed. 

I watched this year as friends got divorced, dated, broke up, got remarried and yet through all of this found what makes them happy. I was one of those people too who looked inside myself and found what makes me happy. I found in life that sometimes those around us that help us grow as people are the best friends we could ever ask for. It's the people that challenge us to be better people, mothers, fathers, coworkers, forward thinkers and better friends to those around us that are the strongest and loving people in our lives. It's the people that love and care about you from the inside out and who accept every facet of our lives that are the best people we could surround ourselves with. (I'm so glad to have all those people in my life.) 

This year has brought me challenges as a mom and having Ethan in school, faith classes, play therapy and soccer. Balancing time has become something I'm rather good at it and while it took some creative thinking at times to make it all work (and sometimes it didn't work at all) - BUT I did it. I had to make choices so that I could be there for my muppet when I think he needed me the most and worked on letting go of somethings so he could grow one day it to a better and stronger man who doesn't let fear rule his life. It's a struggle that all parents go through and I had to face these challenges head on this year while also confronting my own fears on the subject. However, Ethan and I are both stronger for it and I'm proud of the strives that both of us have made in our respective areas. (Have I said lately how much I love my muppet?)

This next year I have a plan that I have been working on for the last few months. It's a plan that will start on the new year and one that I hope brings more growth to my life. I want to run more and become faster at the 5k I do every September (my goal will by 25-30 min 5k this year). I want to focus more on my art and becoming a better artist and boss to my coworkers (so happy to open my new art books I got this Christmas from my parents!). The plan is to share more of my life with those around me and let them know what they mean to me (this especially goes for my neighbors and good friends - I can't wait for Corpus 2012!). I want to share with Ethan the beauty that is around us and how life isn't about "Angry Birds" or "Thomas the Train" - it's about experiencing what life has to offer us and the beauty of nature around us (Go family vacation 2012!). Then I want to do somethings for myself. I've always put Ethan above all else and he always be my first priority in life (and he will still be my first priority in life), but I understand needing to do things for myself and bettering my self; because in the end bettering myself helps better Ethan's life too (Yeah more Mommy time). 

I hope everyone out there can reflect on their 2011 and look forward to their 2012. Not just because it's a new year, but a new start to everything. It's never to late to change the way you think about things that happen in your life. It's never too late to change the way you think and process the events that happen during the past and upcoming year. It's all just a state of mind that takes the biggest step to say I want this to be my year because _____(insert your dreams here)______. Pax and Happy New Year.

A Praline Christmas Story

So I know I haven't blogged in forever, but it's not for a lack of me trying. Ethan's in soccer, faith classes and other assorted things that I'm not always sure if I'm coming or going (but man does the North Dallas Tollway get their fair share of me). One of my resolutions is to blog more. More about Ethan and what he's doing and just things that are going on in ourlives that's fun and exciting. My goal is once a week, but we will see how that one goes between soccer, faith classes and the other assorted things Ethan does.

However, I wanted to take some time and slow things down a bit and share with my readers my version of a Christmas story and what Christmas means to me. Each year I make pralines for my friends, family and neighbors - 30-35 batches a year (although I think I might have made 40 this year - there is no telling) and I like to joke with people that I make these ever-so-tasty goodies because I don't eat pralines; ergo I don't have to worry about any unwanted extra pounds that come from taste testing these little Christmas goodies. Smart huh (don't you wish you had thought of that (insert evil little grin))?!?

But to be honest that's not 100% of why I make them; in fact it's only 1%. So why do I make these little candy cookies that take an hour to make and only yield 12-14 a batch - sounds like way too much work for something people just ingest right? Well for me it doesn't matter if I slave over the stove or sing gleefully over it. What matters to me is what those twelve little cookies mean to me.
(Insert fade to flash-back) I consider my hometown New Orleans. And yes, while I only lived there the first 3 years of my life; it's where my grandparents lived and visited often and every corner of my mind is filled with sweet memories of them, their stories and great times. My grandparents were the kind of people who would slave over a stove for days making tasty red beans and rice or fried egg plant and stocked the freezer full of ice cream if they knew you were coming and liked it. It was their way of saying - I'm glad you're here.

Ten days after Christopher passed; my grandmother passed away too. To say it was a low point in my life is an understatement of epic proportions. It was at that point that God and I had a little conversation where I did most of the talking and while I explained I wasn't renouncing him or my faith in him, I just didn't agree with his choices or plan. My life was crushed...and just a few short months before the holiday season was about to be upon us. What was I going to do? How was I going to handle it? And how do I tell these neighbors who were there for me the whole time that I appreciated them more than I could ever put down in words when all I wanted to do is crawl under a rock and hope the holidays to pass quickly?

As Christmas came closer and closer I asked got to bring my mind peace found my thoughts drifting to Christopher and his giving heart and my Grandmother and how she showed loved through her cooking (she was truly the best cook and I can only hope and pray that I'm as good as her). My mind twisted and turned around the memories of both of them and how they both taught me that life isn't about what you have, but who you share it with and to tell them forth right how much they mean to you. A plan began to form and before I knew it was standing over a stove making something I had never made before - tweaking and testing, tweaking and guessing and before I knew it I had made one, then two, four, twelve, twenty batches of something that reminded me of the love and care that two people brought to my life. There in these assorted shapes and sizes was a tasty treat for others, but chalked full of memories, tears and joy that danced in my head while I made them. Each dozen was carefully placed in a pretty little box with a white bow. Hand delivered with Ethan in tow and as each person opened their doors to us and their eyes got big and each person cracked a smile it filled my heart with joy.


For me sharing those little boxes of my heart was the best gift that I could share with those that had been there for me; it was the best way to keep the memory of two people who mean/meant the world to me and always reminded me it's not what you have, but what is in your heart. The next year, I made them again, then the year after that and again this year. The number of batches has grown from my original twenty to almost 35-40, but it doesn't matter to me. Each batch is made with love, memories, great conversations from whom ever happens to stop over while I'm making them. They are a little piece of New Orleans that I call home. But most of all they are the little reminders of those I love and lost and how they help keep the meaning of life, love and Christmas in my heart. It's not what you can buy for your self or others, it's giving that little part of you to others to share and love. It's about always telling those around you how much they mean to you and how thankful you are to have them in your life. And most importantly it's about the tenderness of goodwill that we share with those that fill our lives every day and might only pass through it once.

I wish you all a Merry Christmas.
Pax
Denise 

October 12th

On October 12th my facebook book status was, "[Today] I remember how life all changed 3 yrs ago." It was that day, three years ago that Christopher's battle with cancer ended. It was a day where I knew; life as I knew it was going to be different – completely. And as I started on my new path of my new normal and my own self discovery I saw how it was all so different and yet still the same.

This morning I walked my little muppet to school - in the rain. Yes the rain. Ethan loves the rain like there is no other; which he takes after his dad. Christopher's belief was that the rain was pure and clean; so, ergo you have to walk in the rain at least once in your life to understand what life is all about. It was/is an interesting philosophy to say the least and one that as I move closer to my zen I’m starting to understand where he was coming from. So it didn't surprise me (at all) that that day Ethan wanted to walk in the rain. So we did.

I will admit that when I suggested to Ethan that we drive to school I might have been a hair bent out of shape when he exclaimed that he wanted to walk and I just might have started to put the proverbial Mommy foot down on that choice. However, that day is the one day out of the year that I promised myself that Ethan and I resided in a different plain, for this one day, we are friends – equals in a way. We both experienced a loss and my loss is no greater than his. The pain that might find it’s way into my heart is no sharper or stronger than the one that will/might find it’s way into his. This was a day of celebrating the life of the one we lost and the life of the one who bought so much joy into our hearts. So… we walked… in the rain.

We jumped puddles. We laughed. We goofed off. Ethan told me I walk too fast. I joked that’s because he walks too slow. We made silly faces at each other. I asked him if he was going to have good day and he said in a very loving tone, “today I will be brave mommy.”

I was taken aback. I have never really explained what this day means directly to Ethan. I have never felt like it was the right time; yet. However, I have shown him through changing things we do on this day that today is a very special day for the both of us; even going as far to say, “today is a special day and one day I will explain it all to you when you are older.” So for my muppet to express his bravery to me – it was heart stopping and stopped me in my tracks.

When we got to school he hugged me, told me that he loved me and as he ran into the building turned and blew me a kiss. My heart filled with warmth; he’s never done that on the way to school. See, if you knew Ethan you would know how much he loves school and how as I drop him off he runs to get to his class room because he craves learning. So this simple little gesture of his love and devotion made my day just a little brighter.

I went home and got ready for something I have be working on for the last 16 months. Why 16 months? Well that’s how long Christopher was on chemo. It’s how long h roughly his overall battle with cancer was. So it’s in my way of reminding me of his struggles and keeping in my heart that he never gave up. This day I cut off the 12” of hair that I’ve been growing out. It’s been a labor of love to say the least – the summers are the worst with long hair and we’ve had a pretty warm one here in Dallas this past summer. But it’s a labor of love that I not only loved doing, but knew that at the end of this journey it would go to a child in need and that is all I needed to know to know that this gift was one I couldn’t give up on.

Cutting all that hair off was emotional to say the least. It’s one of those emotions where you feel like as high as a kite before your about to do it – then as it’s happening your asking your self why you are doing this – then it’s done and you look and see what you are able to give someone and it fills your heart with so much joy you almost burst from the inside out.

After getting my hair cut I ran and got some cup cakes and then was off to pick up my muppet. He was so excited to see me and me for him. We hugged and he asked what we were going to do (being that I picked him up earlier than normal). I told him we were going to visit daddy and that I had some cup cakes for us to eat. He was super excited and asked if we could leave a cup cake for daddy too.

When we got out to the grave, we sat and talked about his day at school and what things were his favorite part about the day. We talked about how good the cupcakes were and how he “loved” these cup cakes.

We didn’t stay long, Ethan managed to eat the frosting off a cupcake or two and I realized that we needed to get some dinner before he filled up on sugery-frosting-goodness.

That day was hard to fathom being that it’s been 3 years and yet feels like it was so much longer than that and yet there are times that it feels like only a year ago. Grief is a strange thing. Its one where I don’t think you completely lose the feeling of loss – you just learn how to cope with the emotion that sits in your heart. And there might be times that we encounter triggers and it brings those emotions to the surface, but as long as we work on understanding them and processing them then they become easier to handle and understand.

I had a good day of remembering the one I lost and yet remembering what this life has in store for me and what I can do for it. Pax.

From Vanity To Charity

Last year I ran a run that not only was one of the best things I had even done for my self, but for the benefit of other people. It was therapeutic in nature and helped me take moving forward to a whole new level due in part to my iPod stopping just a few songs in and leaving me to float within the maze of thoughts that I had put off getting lost in and having some conversations with God that needed to be had.

I ran this run for the memory of a man that consistently challenged me to be a better person and for the future of one that never really knew his father and has so much of life that will be missed because of this (not to mention what will come into his life due in part to having his father and grandmother pass from the same cancer).  It’s a run that I will continue to run from now until my legs won’t hold me up to cross the finish line.

This year’s run was a little different for me; mentally and physically. Mentally due it part to the fact that another year had gone by and I’m just in a different place with how I feel about life, cancer, God and the plan that is set for Ethan and I. I’m ok with everything and while I might still have my moments when I break down and remember the things I lost – I just don’t live in that part of my mind any more. There is a peace that resided in that part of my mind and I owe allot to how I got there. It took taking time to discover who I was. Not just discovering whom the “d” was without Christopher, but the “d” that I’ve always wanted to be. The “d” that I had always aspired to be and yet never really felt like I was putting 100% of my self behind it. The “d” that was always caught up with work, cancer and what else I could add to my plate to keep from having to think about what was going on in life in general.

Part of that change started with Christopher and a conversation he and I had when he was in the hospital after finding out he had cancer. I sat in this little white room with a TV that seem to play Walker Texas Ranger on every hour and on the 8 of 10 stations it had available. The smell was overly clean, but not in that piney clean sorta way; it was stale and sterile. The sounds of other people on the floor coughing and turning and knowing that they too had cancer was madding being that Christopher was the youngest person on the cancer wing. Christopher was dressed in those see through gowns and in only Christopher fashion he was up beat and cheerful. He was ready to make a plan and we talked about everything and anything. We chatted on how aggressive this cancer was, his will to fight this more than just the average tooth-and-nail; how we, as a family, was going to attack this cancer.

Faith, nutrition, medicine (Chemo), physical fitness and mental health was our plan. It was a good plan that both Christopher and I agreed to and one that while we discussed how we would make all this happen. Christopher and I made a pack that we would do whatever we could to be there for others facing similar situations; no matter what. It was at that point that he looked at me and challenged me to grow my hair out and cut it all off to give to Locks of Love. First let me say this wasn’t really an odd challenge for me. I’m notorious for growing my hair out then on a whim cutting it all off – so why don’t I “put that to good use” is how he phrased it.

I scheduled my first donation of hair months in advance; which ended up being just barely two week after his passing. I remember going into to my hairdresser and being asked, “are you ready” and just wanting to say “no”. This was not only my hair but also they were rings of my preverbal tree. “This is where we were told he had cancer”, “surgery”, “chemo”. I could mentally see the path of this journey through my hair. However, in the end I did cut my hair and while if felt good to cut off that hair and give it to someone who is going through cancer, it was gut wrenching. I cried on the way home thinking – what did I do…

But a few months past and I came up with an idea. One that while I thought was brilliant, I’m sure my friends all thought I was crazy and would cope out somewhere before the end. I wanted to donate as much hair as Christopher was tall. This was man who challenged me to do something that I had never thought of and I wanted to honor that thought the best way I knew how. So why not donate as much hair as I could in the memory of a man who to this day even after his passing moves people to better themselves.

Tomorrow, I will cut off 12 inches of hair and donate it again to Wigs For Kids in memory of Christopher as my second donation of the six I promised to myself. As you can see from the photo it’s been a labor of love and one that I’m not only proud to do, but absolutely love that I am. This process has helped me to discover the person I have always wanted to be. The person that gives up vanity for charity, to discover the greatest gift that I could give to another person is the one that fills my soul with light and love, to give without limitation and celebrate each day with love in my heart, finding out who I am by giving up something so simple of myself.

Growing my hair out started back in July of 2010 (the month Christopher started Chemo) and I have been watching my hair get longer and longer and more excited with each inch that grew out. I began to think how if other people could go through this same process of discovering and giving up a little part of themselves how; maybe – just maybe, it might start a movement. One where people give a little part of themselves to help those in need.

It’s not about hair, but helping those around you.

I came up with the idea to start a virtual movement where in the month of October asking people to “Give a Lock” of them selves. Take your vanity and turn it into charity. Give a lock of yourself to something or someone. Donate your time to a soup kitchen, or a single mom who needs time to her self, ask the little old woman down the street if she needs help or find a charity and put a part of yourself behind it. Take that time and discover a part of yourself that you might not have ever known.

Now being that I LOVE music (and it seems to help me push through those moments when I can’t find the words to sum up those complex feelings that reside in my head) I recently asked a friend and local artist to write a “theme song” (if you will) about the experience of giving yourself into something bigger than yourself. He accepted the challenged and after explaining why I was doing this he sent me the lyrics to a song that not only touched me because it was about the process I was going through; discovering myself, but it was something that I thought needed to be shared with everyone.

So my challenge to those of you who read this blog (and share this on Facebook and Twitter to those who don’t) – Give a Lock of yourself to something or someone. Live life without a limitation and love without condition. Help those that might not ask for help. Share those stories with me in the comment section for people to read and become inspired. And to help motivate you, click here to listen to the single or here for the full album and I encourage you to download them (heck it's free music) – let it help you figure out who you are suppose to be. And don't forget to comment your stories that have inspired you in a way to help those around you. Pax to you all! 

Looking After You

This is my view from my front stoop. I've sat here many a day watching Ethan play and telling my self that I needed to soak in every color, sound, scent and exclamation of his sweet little face. For one day, before I knew it, my stoop would be empty with those colors and sounds of his laughter because time had found him and made him into a man. It was in these days that I found out that Ethan has the most amazing little gift. He takes all the urgency, the hurry up and wait, the hustle and bustle of life and slows it down to a point where time feels like it stops and it's just the two of us in this great big world of ours.

Ethan started Kindergarten last month. A day that I swore to myself would not be emotional and yet in therapy I was making mental notes that I wasn't completely sure how the day would go down because of the memories I was allowing my mind to wonder to. A photo that I took just a two months before Christopher passed is a hard photo to set my eyes upon. Not because it's a photo of Ethan and Christopher; but due in part to the exchange in conversation that took place right after I snapped it. It went something a little like this:

Christopher turning over his shoulder and carefully giving me a head nod to step up to his side so he could talk with me. Quickly walking by his side; I give him a loving smile and sigh from the heat of the day while I try and briefly squint through the blazing sun.

In a soft and loving tone Christopher states with his heart, "I think the day Ethan starts school I'll take the day off so we can walk him to school together and I can walk him home." I didn't say anything, but smile, then tear up. For the idea that he looked forward to something so far into the future meant that in his head he was going to fight; to beat cancer, and be there to see his son start school.

He wrapped his arm around me and as we walked to the park he talked about how much it will mean to him and how much sadness it would bring due to the loss of his mom. I filled the silence with words of encouragement and the conversation was ended with me saying, "you're a great dad, you just being there for him will be enough... (insert loving smile)."

Those memories while sweet and heart warming have found a way to haunted my dreams and those moments when I'm left alone to the quietness of my own thoughts. I let my fears wrap themselves around these tiny little moments and turn them into something monstrous and vivid. However, I'm the queen of these haunting thoughts - the ghost buster of fear if you will. I've learned allot in these last three years and one of them is your fear only has as much power as you are willing to give it. And I was not going to let these moments haunt me on a day so near and dear to my heart.

Ethan's first day came and I was what you could say a bottle, no - jar, no - bucket of butterflies. Nervous that I would break down. Scared that walking those same steps over again would make me sick to my stomach. I was timid from the idea that my little muppet was going to big school for the first time - and sans one parent who's one dream was to be there. However, in good ole "d" fashion, all those fears were swallowed when I walked out and took Ethan's photos and saw all our neighbor and friends out there with us to all walk to school together. (Did I ever say how much I LOVE my neighbors & friends? Well if I didn't - LOVE THEM ALL! ALLOT! BUNCHES!)

To say we had a good start, well, lets see, yeah, that, that would be a LIE. OH DEAR. Ethan cried and didn't want me to leave, but in the end I just had to walk out and pray that his day would go well. It wasn't until I got in the car to drive to work when it hit me. I looked over to change lanes and there is was. His car seat. Empty. The radio was set on my stations and not his CDs. My morning routine had changed. Forever. And I lost it. I cried. I missed my muppet. I missed the crazy singing and laughter that filled my morning commutes. This day was going to be rough...

As the day went on I sat and looked up at the clock what seemed like every five mins. Thinking. "He's at recess right now." "Now he's at lunch." "Specials." "Being picked up." That little gift that worked so to my advantage had backfired on me... Brutally. All I wanted to do is rush to his day care and hear about the wonderment that filled his day and see his glowing little smile. What I got.... well? It went something a little like this...

Walking into the day care Ethan spies me and runs up all half smiles. We hug and I ask in the most bouncing voice I can muster how his day was.

"Mommy. I. I have to tell you something."

"What is that muppet?" with one eye brow raised because you never know what that comment will get you.

"Today was my last day. I'm never going back there."

In those two little sentences I could feel my heart break and begin to separate. This is my muppet and it was more than obvious that he didn't have a good day. The car ride home was filled with rear view glances and me wanting to talk to him about this, but I also knew this was a conversation that needed to be had over some milk and cookies.

When we got home we sat on the stairs and talked. The best part about the relationship Ethan and I have is most of the time he feels free to express all that is on his mind and I treasure that so much. He told me how no one played with him at recess, he didn't understand the computer class and how he didn't have any friends in his class and felt alone.

Alone - the magic word. I loath that word. Alone is what you are when there is no one looking after you or your benefit. Alone is a horrible feeling that I spent many a months dwelling over the concept and the one emotion that I vowed never to let my child feel. It was in those moments that I explained how I felt about this day. No I didn't go into how I missed his dad, but I did explain to him that I was scared too. That each and every day I "look after you".

I look after his fears, worries and concerns and that his job is to let me know how he feels and what I can do to help him. That I look after each little detail in his life and I would always be there for him even if he can't see me or touch me. I will always look after him because the bond we have is so great. We then worked on formulating a plan to make this new transition not so scary for him. We assigned him buddies from neighbor friends to walk into the school building with. And how he can make friends with the children in his class. And I'm happy to say that school is now for him an exciting place to go and our conversations are filled with "I can't wait till...." and not "that was my last day."

I know all parents have a hard time when their kids start school - single parent or not. It's hard. Hard because as parents we all want to look after our child and ensure that they are taken care of. I praise all the parents that sent their kids off to school for the first time, first day and even with first new transitions from middle school, to high school, to college. Just because they grow, their little gifts of slowing down times keeps them young in our hearts for us to look after. Pax to you all. :)