Laughter through Tears and a Little White Dog

This isn't a story about a dog. Not really.

It's Tuesday, a warm June afternoon and I'm sitting alone in my living room. Criss-cross-applesauce in the recliner, dreading the phone call I know is coming. Finally it rings, and reading my aunt's name on the screen, I answer. "You have bad news."

"Depends on how you look at it," she says, crying.

And then I'm sobbing, large shaking cries that actually make noise. Cries that give the "boo hoo's" their creed. I hold myself and rock, in a fashion done only by those who are truly devastated.

Oh, What Pretty Eyes You Have

Ginnifer Goodwin recently changed her hair, but only after permission from the Big Love producers.  To avoid any future scenarios like this, she put a wig clause in her current and all future contracts, allowing her to style her hair any way she wants. "I find it hard to express myself," she says, "when I'm growing out a very bad character haircut."  Geez, who wouldn't? (Click here for the full article)

So this has me wondering, "What attribute expresses me the most?"  Now obviously, I can't see myself signing any contracts to not change my hair.  Let's face it, a girl who's shaved her head isn't too particular.  Fashion doesn't matter, either -- although I might consider finding a way to wear TOMS for the rest of my life.  The truth is, I can't find myself putting anything in writing that deals with my physical appearance.  I'm just a little too adventurous (or maybe I don't care enough).

Returning to attributes, though, my eyes are definitely my most expressive.  From an old boyfriend who called them "aqua eyes" to every other person I meet that says, "oh, what pretty eyes you have," trust me, that's what people notice.  Have always noticed.  Which might be why I haven't always appreciated them -- in fact, one of the things that first attracted me to my husband is that he didn't comment on them.  Maybe it's true for everyone -- the thing you're complimented on the most, often annoys you the most.

But I'll never forget the day I finally embraced my eyes.  I was sitting with my cousin Megan while we waited to have our heads shaved, and she was nervous (heck, I was, too).  She looked at me and said, "Everyone keeps telling me how pretty my eyes will look, and I guess they're right."

She paused, and then caught me completely off guard.

"Because mine look just like yours."

Pretty powerful, coming from a girl who'd turned eleven the day before.  It took her eyes to make me realize how beautiful mine were.  And remembering that moment and that beautiful girl is a lovely reminder to love myself more.

Now with all the eye-color-coordinating shadows and complete aisles filled only with mascaras, fixin' up my eyes is quite fun. And nowadays the, "oh what pretty eyes you have," remark is often followed by, "are those fake eyelashes?"  Which they're not, but thank you CoverGirl Lashblast Volume Blasting Mascara.

Gennifer Goodwin says, "As long as I can wear a wig, I can be any character and in real life I can be myself."

Well, it seems I am forever working to be myself -- but doesn't the saying go, "A journey of a thousand miles begins with one step."

So I guess this step is labeled 'lovin' my eyes.'

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Two Months and I'm Still Grieving...

Today marks two months since Megan's death. Ironically, I spent the morning looking back through old photos and blog entries before realizing that today was the 2nd.

Shannon still knows her, which shocks me. The last time she saw Megan was at Relay For Life but whenever she sees a picture she cries out "Meg-meg" in delight! She is also quick to tell you who gave her the teddy bear (Meg-meg) and her Buster dog (Meg-meg). I guess it just shows how special Megan was to her.

Another surprise: We talk about Megan. We all do. A lot. After Sharon's death it was so difficult to talk about her without getting emotional, but I share so much now about Megan and Sharon in everyday conversation. My mom still has Megan as her voicemail, too, so everytime I dial my mom's cell I get to hear her sweet voice.

Part of me is still in denial... I know this. There were plenty of weeks when I'd go without seeing Megan, and I think my brain has tricked my heart into feeling as though I simply "haven't seen her." Another part knows that a lot of grieving was done before her death. Still... sometimes the lack of tears surprises me.

And at other times... like now... when they come unexpectedly... the grief overwhelms me.

I ache for the girl she was and the woman she could have been.

Some days are worse than others, a universal principle. Since I can't find a way to end this post on a positive note, I'll let someone else do it for me.

Say not in grief that she is no more
but say in thankfulness that she was
A death is not the extinguishing of a light,
but the putting out of the lamp
because the dawn has come.

- Rabindranath Tagore

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i think tonight i'll take the long way...

"there's a song that they sing when they take to the highway..."

Music is such a big part of my life, and my iPod playlist is always a reflection of my mood... On a normal day I usually just pick my "Favs" which encompasses everything I love... When I'm in a particularly fabulous mood, I click over to my "No Boys Allowed" mix which contains a large quantity of "sing-at-the-top-of-my-lungs" chick songs (which I sing at the top of my lungs).

"on the way home this car hears my confessions..."

With my job I find myself on the road more often than not, traveling to my different counties. It's not unusual for me to spend 2-3 hours a day driving, which oddly enough, I enjoy. In the past weeks, however, as Megan's condition has worsened, I discovered something interesting.

"i think the hurt set in and I don't feel nothin'..."

When I'm hurting, really hurting, I listen to the same music, the same set of artists and songs, every time. You see, ten years ago (at the age of 17) when my parents were getting divorced, it wasn't uncommon for me to drive around for hours on end - listening to Matchbox Twenty, Fuel, Alanis Morissette... Over the next several years I added a few more heartbreaks, and thus added a few more artists... there's no rhyme or reason to why these songs are in my "Mellow" playlist, except that at one point or another a lyric echoed an ache inside of me.

"another sun soaked season fades away..."

It's been almost four years since this playlist has made its way back to my ears, but about six weeks ago I welcomed it back with open arms. The power is still dynamic. There have been several nights in which I've cried myself the entire way home, but these artists, these melodies, these "lyrics" have assisted me in purging all the emotion that builds up throughout the day.

"and there's nothin' there to ease this ache..."

With that said, it's evident that I'll be listening to these songs for an undetermined amount of time. There is an ache inside of me that will only get worse before it gets better...

"there are days every now and again I pretend I'm okay..."

One of the best conversations I had with Megan was, ironically, on the way to Children's Hospital when I had to take her to the ER. We discussed music as she scrolled through my iPod and chose what we listened to during the drive. She had much to say about my lack of Toby Keith, Dirks Bentley, and other contemporary country she considered appealing - but we eventually found a few songs we could agree on (including the one and only Rascall Flatts song I like).

"You have stolen my heart..."

I told Megan that when she got a little older, I'd introduce her to Matchbox Twenty and Dashboard Confessional and some other cool bands. She looked over at me from the passenger seat with wide eyes and said, "Oh cool, so you know them?"

"this old world well don't it make you want to scream damn..."

I try hard not to dwell on the "what if's," but at this point in time they seem to just keep sneaking into my head. And damn them! they pop up at the most random moments, bringing tears to my eyes and clogging my throat. But that is what my drive home is for... I let out the day's worth of pent-up emotions, and eliminate all that I can in hopes of peaceful dreams.

"we all look like we feel..."

I fathom that many family and friends do their own purging rituals each night with similar intent... and I hope each gets the relief he or she so desperately craves...


** My cousin Megan passed away two days later