Tag Archives: Did I tell you that I love you?

Remember to say I Love You

22 Replies

This is an updated post from two years ago. I am bringing it up because 1) I had only one reader at that time, 2) StoryCorps recently posted an animated video to accompany a father’s recollection of 911 that I think everybody should listen to… So here it is…

One thing about being a parent is that it is probably one of the most universal experiences to relate to people around you.  Complete strangers in the street.  Writers speaking through printed words.  Bloggers on the interweb. Folks you see on the news.

Everybody is somebody else’s child.

Every year, around this fateful day, we heard the stories from parents who lost their children on that day, and I couldn’t stop crying the entire day.  I would pull myself together.  And then the thought “what would I do if it happened to my children?” would trigger another fit.  I don’t presume that I understand the heartaches these parents go through every moment.  Judging by the pain in my chest as I type this, I don’t think I will ever be able to imagine the intensity of it.

I left the house at 7:44 on September 11, 2009, 2 minutes before it was 8:46 am on the East Coast…

NPR played the interview of a fire fighter who lost both of his sons at the World Trade Center.  I steeled myself against the impact.

Mr. John Vigiano Sr. is a retired firefighter.  One of his boys was a policeman, and the other, a firefighter.  When John became a firefight, he received his grandfather’s badge number, 3436.

“We had the boys for — John for 36 years, Joe for 34 years, ironically. Badge number 3436.”

This was when my tears started and they have not been completely stopped yet.  I had to pull my car off to the side of the road after what Mr. Vigiano said about their unimaginable loss:

“I don’t have any could’ve, should’ve or would’ves.  I wouldn’t have changed anything.  It’s not many people that the last words they said to their son or daughter was ‘I love you.'”

 

You can read the NPR Story here. Or listen to the StoryCorps recording: Firefighter Father Recalls Losing Sons On 9/11. Or watch the StoryCorps video below.

 

John and Joe from StoryCorps on Vimeo.

p.s. I learned of this video from It Is Monday… which I subscribe to.

The Perfect Storm

32 Replies

When I was pregnant with my number two child, Mr. Monk, I suffered Deep Vein Thrombosis (aka blood clot) : my entire left leg was swollen before I realized it was not a muscle strain that’s been causing me excruciating pain, but rather something that could be life-threatening. My Obgyn immediately sent me to the emergency room – yes I drove myself (but I was not having a heart attack so I was not as crazy as this other gal I know…) and they put a filter into my aorta so no broken pieces of the Titanic-sized blood clot would get into my heart and stuff.

It only happened because the stars were lined up just so. A perfect storm so to speak.

Turned out I have a genetic disorder #$^%@%* that makes it easier for blood clot to form if my body has extremely low level of folic acid.

The amount in prenatal vitamins would have been more than adequate to prevent that.

By then I had been throwing up for about four months so no, I was not absorbing my prenatal vitamins properly, and I was severely undernourished, sustaining mostly on Gatorade. (Btw, I bet severe “morning sickness” would have been qualified for disability IF men could get pregnant…)

Your blood turns thicker when you are pregnant due to female hormones.

I was also extremely dehydrated which did not help with the blood thinning department.

 

Long story short: everything worked perfectly and BOOM! I had DVT, blah blah blah.

 

Why am I telling you this now? Because once again, the stars have aligned perfectly:

New job (my company was acquired)

+ New office

+ Two computers to deal with

+ Two systems

+ Two business processes

+ Two to-do lists

+ Longer commute (including my “I am on a fucking boat” moments, yes, I realized that)

+ Longer hours expected

+ Same kids

+ Same husband

= STRESS

STRESS = TEETH CLENCHING (which I did not realize I do all the time until now) = Massive and Rapid Bone Loss in My Teeth = Oral surgery to be expected

It is not like I have been having nightmares about losing all my teeth since I was young…

Head. Meet desk.

Hello, more stress. Nice to see you show up with more of your friends. Just come on in. Move right in. Mi case su casa.

 

So here is what I have… I found this blogger who has quite a few cartoons with cultural/social media commentary that make me:

OMG. ROTFL. DNPMPL. ITA. FML. IYKWIMAITYD.

 

Mr. Dave Walker actually encourages bloggers to embed his cartoons on their blogs. He has been doing this since 2005 and is probably one of the first people online to understand the concept of Sharing is loving...

So I am sharing this because Dear Internet, I love you, and I miss you, but I really need to prioritize the many things on my plate and focus especially on the ones that will help ensure I continue to have good dental insurance…

I am taking cover and waiting for the storm to be over.

 

 

cartoon from www.weblogcartoons.com

cartoon from www.weblogcartoons.com

cartoon from www.weblogcartoons.com

cartoon from www.weblogcartoons.com

 

Source: Cartoons by Dave Walker. Find more cartoons you can freely re-use on your blog at We Blog Cartoons.

Thirteen

24 Replies

My firstborn is thirteen today.

It’s official: I now have a bona fide teenager on my hand.

I am still wavering about whether I should have made this birthday into a big deal or not. I hope he was not expecting a big to-do. I hope he was not expecting a PlayStation 3 this morning as he opened the box containing a bunch of Wii accessories. They are all in black. That should count for something. If he’s disappointed, he did not show. This kid, No. 1 Son, is turning out to be a surprisingly thoughtful young man, despite his natural tendency to be a sarcastic smart aleck. (Well, I wonder where he got that? And son, if you are reading this one day, notice that I did not call you “smartass” on this post dedicated to you on your birthday)

He has shown great capacity for kindness and empathy (even though he could have shown more of this to his own younger brother…)

He has shown great potential for wisdom (despite the day-to-day harebrained ideas and actions).

He’s given me hope that he will turn out to be a-ok when he declared in the first week of being a 7th grader, “I’ve decided to not worry about being cool any more.” THIS and many other small moments were what prevented me from Homer-Simpson-choking him “You Little!…” during the more trying and frustrating hours.

To be honest with you? I am freaking out. I have been at the state of perpetual freaking out ever since I became a mother so nothing new here really. My husband knew me so well that in 2003, when No.1 son was only 5 years old, he flat out told me to skip the movie “Thirteen”, “You are going to freak out even more if you watch that movie.”

 

My freaking-out state reached a crisis yesterday when I received this SMS from No. 1 son:

 

 

By the time I got home from work, he’s already ready to forgive me, well, kind of, because I could not stop laughing even as I was apologizing to him, mind you, with the utmost sincerity.

So what did I do in the wee hours when my oldest was turning into a teenager during his sleep? I made someecards. What else?

 

Remember to say I love you every time you say good-bye to your kids…

4 Replies

One thing about being a parent is that it is probably one of the most universal experiences to relate to people around you.  Complete strangers in the street.  Writers speaking through printed words.  Bloggers on the interweb.  Folks you see on the news.

Everybody is somebody else’s child.

This is sappy.  I know.

Today is 9-11.

I watched the taped replay of the first plane on the news in a hotel in Boise 8 years ago.   With utter disbelief, while I was calling my husband to wake him up, “Go turn on the TV, now!” I watched the second plane fly into view of the news video camera…

Every year, on this day, we heard the stories from parents who lost their children on that day, and I couldn’t stop crying the entire day.  I would pull myself together.  And then the thought “what would I do if it happened to my children?” would trigger another fit.  I don’t presume that I understand the heartaches these parents go through every moment.  Judging by the pain in my chest as I type this, I don’t think I will ever be able to imagine the intensity of it.

I left the house at 7:44 this morning.  That was 2 minutes before it was 8:46 am on the East Coast…

NPR played the interview of a fire fighter who lost both of his sons on 9-11-2001.  I steeled myself against the impact.

Mr. John Vigiano Sr. is a retired firefighter.  One of his boys was a policeman, and the other, a firefighter.  When John became a firefight, he received his grandfather’s badge number, 3436.

“We had the boys for — John for 36 years, Joe for 34 years, ironically. Badge number 3436.”

This was when my tears started and they have not been completely stopped yet.  I had to pull my car off to the side of the road after what Mr. Vigiano said about their unimaginable loss:

“I don’t have any could’ve, should’ve or would’ves.  I wouldn’t have changed anything.  It’s not many people that the last words they said to their son or daughter was ‘I love you.'”

Again.  I know this is probably unbearably sappy.  But, please, remember to tell your children you love them every time you say good-bye to them.


You can read the NPR Story here.

Or listen to the StoryCorps recording: Firefighter Father Recalls Losing Sons On 9/11