Painting Goodbyes

My dad suffered “a shower of strokes” this week, due to a clotting disorder caused by the cancer that he’s been battling for nearly six months now. For the last two days, he has been confused, not knowing what year it is or where he is, although most of the time he knows who we are. He will respond appropriately to yes or no questions but does not initiate conversation at all. Dad, as a former math teacher and current financial planner, cannot subtract 13 from 27. This evening he told me that the President was Eddie Van Halen. It has been a sad and harrowing few days to say the least.

Part of the process of diagnosing the cause of dad’s confusion was an MRI of his brain. This was the first time he’d been apart from my mom after 24 hours in the hospital. After the test, the tech took mom to where dad was waiting on his gurney. He had his right hand up in the air, in a loose fist, and he seemed to be looking at his thumb as he flicked his wrist around. Mom asked him what he was doing.

“Painting,” he said.

“What are you painting?” she asked.

He responded, “Goodbyes.”

New house pictures

Here's the link to the SmugMug gallery of more pictures of our new house... enjoy!

If these walls could talk

As we prepare to leave this house, the walls are talking to me, reminding me of all that has happened over the eight years that we have lived here. This is the house where O learned to ride a bike, swing a bat, and kick a goal. From here we went to Gymboree, Kindermusik, library story time, soccer, baseball, Tae Kwon Do, swimming lessons, Cub Scouts, choir, Chess Club, auditions, rehearsals, and plays. We spent our summers at the FOHA pool, VBS, Camp Invention, baseball games, Cub Scout Day Camp, and in backyard sprinklers. In this yard, we enjoyed toasting marshmallows on our firepit, slip & sliding, playing ghost in the graveyard, and planting watermelon seeds. It was here that we laughed so hard when Uncle Chris hit Baba with the waffle ball on Gumpa’s 60th birthday. And it was in this house that we cried together when Gumpa was diagnosed with cancer.

In this house, we all grew up. O celebrated eight birthdays here, with friends & family, magicians, water balloon fights, Blue, Thomas, the Rescue Heroes, and Star Wars. Here he had his last bottle, ate his first Oreo, and eventually learned to pack his own lunch. I don’t dare estimate the number of boxes of Kraft Mac & Cheese I’ve cooked in this house! O lost his first tooth here, and he also grew old enough to know there was no Tooth Fairy. Or Santa. P & I became thirty-somethings. P went through the adult right-of-passage of losing a job, and after three months of “free agency” took the leap of faith that has now grown into an amazing career. I ran a creative business that I enjoyed at the time, only to later find my true calling working with preschoolers. We joined an amazing church, where we grew in our faith and learned the true meaning of the phrase “church family.”

In this house we celebrated nine Christmases, our 10th wedding anniversary, the birth of our niece, and the promise of our nephew. We dyed Easter eggs, Trick or Treated, and made Valentines. We hosted gatherings of PEOs, Butterflies, KDs, the McIntosh Clan, MOPS, playgroups, and many dear friends. We mourned the loss of beloved relatives, friends’ pregnancies, and a few marriages. In this house we have laughed, cried, eaten, drank, and played with some of the best friends we’ve ever had. And we have faith that those friendships, firmly planted here, will continue to bloom no matter where life takes us.

This has been our house, but SPandOLand is wherever we are together. And as I say goodbye to this house, I will look forward to hearing what the walls of our new house will have to say to me.

A thousand words couldn't sum it up better than the ONE word hanging at the bottom of the sign

Something(s) Beautiful

Until I logged on this morning, I had no idea how long it had been since I’d blogged. Halloween? Wow... so much has happened since then that was certainly blog-worthy, but lately I struggle to be quippy and light when many days I cannot shake off the lead boots of life-as-it-is-now. And who wants to read downer blog posts? I don’t want to write them, so I can’t imagine anyone wants to read them!
But this morning’s after-run cool-down playlist offered a burst of inspiration. The Killers “Smile Like You Mean It” was my anthem through the holidays, reminding me to try to find the sweet in the overwhelming bitter-sweet. This morning as I listened to the song again, I thought that maybe I could reenter the blogosphere with some of those sweet things. So, here is my list of some of the many beautiful things I was blessed to encounter since Halloween…

• Fighting my way back after bronchitis to be a stronger, faster runner than I was before I got sick. The old me would have given up.
• An Indian Summer day’s hike in the Cleveland Metroparks with very good friends
• A visit with my dad’s sisters, who I don’t see nearly enough, and listening to the three siblings reminisce over a giant stack of old pictures
• Drinking champagne in a limo as we rode downtown to see Wicked for my dear friend Jill's 40th birthday
• The Christmas Eve services at church and being keenly aware of the love of that church family for my family
• Having Jill’s husband, who is a pilot, so calmly arrange for P to fly home the weekend of O’s school play, when I-90 was closed. I completely lost it, but Doug was the calm in my storm.
• Watching O in that play, so confident and comfortable, so happy on stage
• My friend Sue's Split-Pea Soup, which is deliciously seasoned with love
• My sister-in-law’s baby bump…. And my mom’s reaction to learning the gender of that bambino
• Being the respite & refuge for my brother-in-law, his wife, and my sweet niece while they mourned the loss of Erika’s grandmother the week after Christmas

But nothing topped the beauty of my parents’ 40th wedding anniversary. My brother & I contacted as many friends & family as we could find, asking them to send anniversary greetings. It was a gift just to see the love pour in from near & far, past & present. But to be there with mom & dad on their anniversary while they opened the box-of-love that we had assembled, well, that was one of the most beautiful things ever.

Happy Halloween from Mount Olympus

Here we are... Poseidon, Percy Jackson and the godess Athena

a la The Last Olympian by Rick Riordan.

Never read it? We are (obviously) big fans!

Percy with Riptide

A sugar rush fit for a demi-god

A Great One

Just as we did twelve years ago, we spent this past weekend in Toronto. Last time, we were newly married, P was recovering from the flu, and I was determined to make our Plan B honeymoon fun & memorable. We ate in out of the way cafes, saw Phantom, stayed in a ridiculously swanky hotel, and worshipped at the Temple of Lord Stanley. It could not have been a more perfect trip, even if we'd taken more time than the drive from Cincinnati to plan it.

There were, of course, notable differences from that first Toronto weekend on this trip. Instead of enjoying the city's night-life, we were changing hotel rooms at midnight because the nightclub 14 floors below us was so loud that we couldn't sleep. We spent a lot more time in gift shops, the hotel pool, and chasing pigeons this time. We didn't get to eat at the amazing Le Papillon, with its melt-in-your-mouth crepes, but we learned that even in Canada, you can order a foot-long sub at Subway. Who knew?

We ate dinner at Gretzky's on Saturday night, because it was near the hotel and they have the Holy Grail of children's menus, offering not only mac & cheese, but also cheese pizza and spaghetti. Woo hoo for choices!! As we devoured a plate of homemade perogi, we noticed a man making the rounds of the room. People were handing their cameras to waitresses to get pictures taken with him. He was obviously not Wayne Gretzky, but still, he was someone people were thrilled to meet.

Not one to miss out on an opportunity to meet someone thrilling, I asked the waiter. Turns out it was Walter Gretzky, the Great One's dad. And this is what Walter does before Maple Leafs home games... he strolls the dining room of his son's restaurant, signing autographs, taking pictures, chatting with the people, being the Proud Papa. So--when in Rome--we, too, had our audience with Walter, chatted awhile, got his autograph, took some pictures.

And the more I thought about it, the more perfectly this encounter fit for this weekend when I was reflecting heavily on the last twelve years. As I was thinking of all that Life we've lived (and are living right now), Walter's exuberance reminded me of some simple truths: Love Generously, Praise Loudly, Live Fully. Walter is so proud of his son not for his fame or his talent, but simply because he is his son. He lives that love by showing up at this place and being with others who love his son. With that insight, my focus turned to celebrating my family and remembering all the ways we love each other--not because of what we do or what we have, but because of who we are. And so Walter Gretzky reminded me to show up and bring the love more often. I think he, too, deserves the title of Great One.