A Pocket Is No Place For a Smile Anyway

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family, fear, health, love, panic, parents, siblings, support, travel

Family is funny. Take mine for example. We are small and powerful and tend to overreact to most situations. We can bicker over politics and then laugh over drinks. We involve ourselves in each other’s business, whether we want to or not. And personally speaking, although being told what to do and not to do by siblings, parents, and even aunts and uncles can be frustrating at 35, it comes from the truest, most sincerest parts of all of our hearts; we care. We probably care too much.

This past week, I just wanted to see my parents. I wanted to catch up with them and just spend time. SPEND TIME. And we did just that.

My trip to Ireland a few weeks ago did not go as planned. I was traveling with my uncle who had two major health issues while we were there. The first was he was super sick–pneumonia sick. And the second was he collapsed on me twice in a Tesco in Killarney, and was rushed via ambulance to Kerry General Hospital in Tralee. I followed in the rental car for 30 minutes, debating whether I should call my parents. The only time I lost it in front of him (and fortunately, he was completely passed out) was when he collapsed, and I was screaming, yes screaming for someone to help me.

We were checking out and had water and crackers, and he looked at me, said he was dizzy, and that was it. He’s a big guy, and somehow I managed to catch him–sort of,

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All is Memory Taken Home with Me

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college, friendship, hiking, memories, Music, Oregon, sorority sisters, support

Years ago, I had a t-shirt with the Dave Matthews Band “Crash” album cover on it with one small alteration–it was renamed “Crush”. It was for a date party in college. Date party? you ask. Yes, my friends, I was in a sorority. Surprising since I never really was nor really will remain now or in the future “sorority material”. Although 17 years later, I still don’t know what that phrase means. None of us fit that description. Regardless, my undergrad was enormous, and the Greek system was very small, but it didn’t matter whether you joined or not.

Seven of us got together this past weekend in Oregon for a reunion–the trip I mentioned before in a previous post (Ideas Starting to Move) . The one with all the apprehension. Yeah, that one. The trip was nothing short of awesome fabulous. In hindsight, I need to a) have more faith in myself b) realize that friends that are more than 13 years old know more about me than I realize and c) never wear overalls and bangs again in public.

Through babies, divorces, miscarriages, horrible breakups, job losses and just life, even though we are not always in the loop with one another, it’s easy to fall back in. We remain a safety net, a panel of judges, fashionistas, globetrotters, independent thinkers, idealists, and even realists. I think we all walked away from this past weekend grateful that we remain friends, happy that we have our memories, and pleased that we all have lives we love. It took a trip to another state to realize that I love my life. I bitch and complain sometimes about trivial matters or not feeling like I am where I should be. But I like what I have. I don’t want what others have. And it goes on and on with all of us…