Albuquerque, Late 1997.
I broke my ankle at work sliding down a snow and ice covered curb on my left ankle.
After approximately 6 weeks in the cast, I returned to the Doctor to get the cast removed. Much to my surprised, it was removed with a power saw!
The cast fell off in 2 pieces and I looked at this stick of a leg where the muscles had atrophied due to non use. I hadn't been able to walk or otherwise put pressure on my leg, Including driving, well not legally anyhow. I drove once to the bank and when you're dominant right and attempting to drive with your left foot - well, let's just say I never tried that again. Once and Done.
At any rate, the cast was removed, and I had been walking on crutches for the entire 6 week period. The Doctor said to gradually wean myself off the crutches. Being obstinate, pig-headed and stubborn, I promptly got home, decided I had enough, and threw the crutches down outside the front door to force myself to walk without them.
I limped, but I made it.
Fast Forward to Early 2017, Almost 19 years later.
I had enough of my cable company raising rates, and for a while, I haven't really sat in front of the tv and just flipped channels, or looked for something to watch, or even watched live - nearly everything was DVR'd and watched later.
So, I did something I never thought I would do - I got rid of the crutches again.
Disconnected the cable, Signed up for Netflix (which I already had) and added Hulu, and the Cable Crutch came crashing to the floor.
Its been two weeks now, and I haven't found one thing I'm missing by not having the cable
I can still keep up on the shows I really enjoy, and I re-discovered the joy of watching a DVD. Imagine that! With 200 cable channels and a slew of things recorded "for a rainy day" - I just never watched movies anymore.
The lower bill is definitely an added bonus.
I've felt more peaceful and calm, mostly. More indulged by getting more time for myself,
to think, compose and reflect. More positive. Less Negative.
It could just be a coincidence, but without the cable and watching as much TV, I've definitely felt more introspective and had more time to think and process things. Thus my 4th blog entry within a week (some haven't posted yet). I think I have a Muse.
I'm currently on the 4th day of a 6 week group on Facebook talking about my experiences and how cancer has affected me and my family. Revisiting and in some cases, discovering, long ago feelings is therapeutic, but difficult.
Perhaps I should eliminate more of the crutches in my life.
When you stop using the crutch, you can fly.
Thursday, January 26, 2017
Monday, January 23, 2017
The Little Things
For years, I have read, and heard, and believed "It's all about the little things"
This quote by Robert Brault sums it up nicely:
"Enjoy the little things, for one day you may look back and realize they were the big things"
Through years of trial and challenge, I try very hard to appreciate the little things.
The planner in me pays attention and takes mental notes of the little things.
The small things.
Like my Dad's way of cooking the latkes for Chanukah.
Or my Grandmother's way, which then became my Dad's, which has now been passed down to me,
of making eggs with onions on a weekend morning.
The little pancake things he makes out of bread crumbs and eggs that are leftover when we have baked chicken.
And also, thank G-d, for Discount Tire checking the air in the car's tires, since I'm challenged in that regard.
And on the reverse side, what is small to me, "nothing" or "no bother", i am
finding is more significant when it comes to my parents.
Items such as
--taking out the garbage
--changing a light bulb
--helping them get dressed or ready
--escorting them to a doctor
--doing the grocery shopping or running errands
During the writing workshop I attended and mentioned in a previous blog post,
the first thing we wrote about, as a warmup, was "jello":
"I'm sure there are people who love jello, but hearing as a kid it was made out of horse hooves just kind of killed the taste for me. However, I place sentimental value on pistachio jello because it's an ingredient used in a dish my Grandma would make, that my family still makes, that we affectionately call green glop."
I started out thinking "ugh, jello"...What on earth am I going to write because I don't really care for it almost as much as my hatred of nuts and peanut butter, but it was referred to as "the backdoor into my brain. Jello, a little thing to me, lead to a warm memory of my Grandmother on what would have been her 102nd Birthday.
The things that are little to us are big to others.
The things that are little to others can be huge to us.
Watching the Beaches remake as I write this, I am
doubly reminded not that only that it is about the little little things,
but about enjoying the time we share together on our own terms.
Make the most of a challenging situation by cherishing the time spent together, and realize it's all part of the journey.
My feelings were vindicated when I came across this FB post this morning from my Dad, who unknowingly echoed my own sentiments:
This past weekend was so good. Marion, Jeff and I spent the better part of 3 days together, enjoying each other's company, laughing, joking, watching various TV shows including the 2 blowout football games, running errands, fixing and eating dinner, I did not go near my computer all weekend which is a great accomplishment for me. Notwithstanding the rain, clouds and wind it was a great weekend.
This quote by Robert Brault sums it up nicely:
"Enjoy the little things, for one day you may look back and realize they were the big things"
Through years of trial and challenge, I try very hard to appreciate the little things.
The planner in me pays attention and takes mental notes of the little things.
The small things.
Like my Dad's way of cooking the latkes for Chanukah.
Or my Grandmother's way, which then became my Dad's, which has now been passed down to me,
of making eggs with onions on a weekend morning.
The little pancake things he makes out of bread crumbs and eggs that are leftover when we have baked chicken.
And also, thank G-d, for Discount Tire checking the air in the car's tires, since I'm challenged in that regard.
And on the reverse side, what is small to me, "nothing" or "no bother", i am
finding is more significant when it comes to my parents.
Items such as
--taking out the garbage
--changing a light bulb
--helping them get dressed or ready
--escorting them to a doctor
--doing the grocery shopping or running errands
During the writing workshop I attended and mentioned in a previous blog post,
the first thing we wrote about, as a warmup, was "jello":
"I'm sure there are people who love jello, but hearing as a kid it was made out of horse hooves just kind of killed the taste for me. However, I place sentimental value on pistachio jello because it's an ingredient used in a dish my Grandma would make, that my family still makes, that we affectionately call green glop."
I started out thinking "ugh, jello"...What on earth am I going to write because I don't really care for it almost as much as my hatred of nuts and peanut butter, but it was referred to as "the backdoor into my brain. Jello, a little thing to me, lead to a warm memory of my Grandmother on what would have been her 102nd Birthday.
The things that are little to us are big to others.
The things that are little to others can be huge to us.
Watching the Beaches remake as I write this, I am
doubly reminded not that only that it is about the little little things,
but about enjoying the time we share together on our own terms.
Make the most of a challenging situation by cherishing the time spent together, and realize it's all part of the journey.
My feelings were vindicated when I came across this FB post this morning from my Dad, who unknowingly echoed my own sentiments:
This past weekend was so good. Marion, Jeff and I spent the better part of 3 days together, enjoying each other's company, laughing, joking, watching various TV shows including the 2 blowout football games, running errands, fixing and eating dinner, I did not go near my computer all weekend which is a great accomplishment for me. Notwithstanding the rain, clouds and wind it was a great weekend.
Sunday, January 22, 2017
Life is a Series of Quotes
When life tosses me another curveball I'm not expecting, one of the ways I help deal with and manage the change is to maintain a list of quotes that express what I'm trying to deal with.
I'm constantly adding to this list, and I refer back to it often.
I think it's a way of helping me feel not so quite alone;
That I'm not alone in my struggle and challenge.
To help me persevere and overcome.
Below are some that I use frequently:
"With everything that has happened to you, you can either feel sorry for yourself or treat what has happened as a gift. Everything is either an opportunity to grow or an obstacle to keep you from growing. You get to choose"
"What I learned was it doesn't matter if you get knocked down in life, what matters is that you've got to get back up." - Ben Affleck"
Amen. The worst parts of my life have in hindsight, been my greatest lessons.
From a tv show:
They say ignorance is bliss because once you know, you can’t go back. Will you be strong or will you fall apart? It’s hard to predict so don’t worry about it. Enjoy the time you have before the news comes. Yep, ignorance is bliss.
This has been a hard one, and one I still struggle with. Trying to avoid a black cloud from stopping me from enjoying the here and now, the beauty and the GIFT of today; of not knowing, yet.
Today, a friend posted:
I choose LOVE.
I choose JOY.
I choose PEACE.
I choose GRATEFUL.
My favorite quote from "Superman" and one that exemplifies the relationship between my Father and I, as it was also the relation between Kal-El and Jor-El.
Somewhere along the way, I've turned into the parent raising a couple of 70+ year old kids.
We will never leave you...
The richness of our lives shall be yours.
All that I have, all that I learned,
Everything that I feel... all this, and more,
I...I bequeath you, my son.
You will carry me inside you,
All the days of your life.
You will make my strength your own,
And see my life through your eyes,
As your life will be seen through mine.
The son becomes the Father,
And the Father, the Son.
Be grateful for every second of every day that you get to spend with the people you love.
Life is so very precious.
My Father's signature quote, that he uses on his email and that I refer to for inspiration:
Cancer may have robbed me of that blissful ignorance that once led me to believe that tomorrow stretched forever. In exchange I've been granted the wisdom to see each today as something special, a gift to be used wisely and fully. Nothing can take that away.
My Father's email signature above has been a part of of his email for as long as I can remember, probably since he's ever had email. I've always read it and acknowledged it as something positive, but it took an event in my own life, along with finally accepting his 2nd Cancer diagnosis to recognize and live it: That today doesn't stretch forever, and tomorrow isn't guaranteed. I try, though I don't always succeed, to enjoy the here and the now instead of worrying about the tomorrow's and what could go wrongs. Without cancer, without the lessons and hitting absolute rock bottom in my own life, I wouldn't be where I am now enjoying the privilege I get spend each day with my parents and other ones while the opportunity is available.
Another piece of advice from one of my favorite authors, Mitch Albom:
Hope, no matter how buried, wants to find the light of day and rises from within us until it does.
This one helps me in my darkest moments, when I can't see hope, that even when I cannot see the light at the end of the tunnel, it's still there, in some form. It exists, even if I can't see it yet.
Similarly, from Spider-Man:
No matter how buried it gets or how lost you feel, you must promise me that you will hold on to hope.
Truer words have never been spoken.
I'm constantly adding to this list, and I refer back to it often.
I think it's a way of helping me feel not so quite alone;
That I'm not alone in my struggle and challenge.
To help me persevere and overcome.
Below are some that I use frequently:
"With everything that has happened to you, you can either feel sorry for yourself or treat what has happened as a gift. Everything is either an opportunity to grow or an obstacle to keep you from growing. You get to choose"
"What I learned was it doesn't matter if you get knocked down in life, what matters is that you've got to get back up." - Ben Affleck"
"They reminded us
that we can overcome any obstacle if we dig deep enough and fight hard enough
and find the courage within ourselves" - Michelle Obama
Amen. The worst parts of my life have in hindsight, been my greatest lessons.
From a tv show:
They say ignorance is bliss because once you know, you can’t go back. Will you be strong or will you fall apart? It’s hard to predict so don’t worry about it. Enjoy the time you have before the news comes. Yep, ignorance is bliss.
This has been a hard one, and one I still struggle with. Trying to avoid a black cloud from stopping me from enjoying the here and now, the beauty and the GIFT of today; of not knowing, yet.
Today, a friend posted:
I choose LOVE.
I choose JOY.
I choose PEACE.
I choose GRATEFUL.
My favorite quote from "Superman" and one that exemplifies the relationship between my Father and I, as it was also the relation between Kal-El and Jor-El.
Somewhere along the way, I've turned into the parent raising a couple of 70+ year old kids.
We will never leave you...
The richness of our lives shall be yours.
All that I have, all that I learned,
Everything that I feel... all this, and more,
I...I bequeath you, my son.
You will carry me inside you,
All the days of your life.
You will make my strength your own,
And see my life through your eyes,
As your life will be seen through mine.
The son becomes the Father,
And the Father, the Son.
Be grateful for every second of every day that you get to spend with the people you love.
Life is so very precious.
My Father's signature quote, that he uses on his email and that I refer to for inspiration:
Cancer may have robbed me of that blissful ignorance that once led me to believe that tomorrow stretched forever. In exchange I've been granted the wisdom to see each today as something special, a gift to be used wisely and fully. Nothing can take that away.
My Father's email signature above has been a part of of his email for as long as I can remember, probably since he's ever had email. I've always read it and acknowledged it as something positive, but it took an event in my own life, along with finally accepting his 2nd Cancer diagnosis to recognize and live it: That today doesn't stretch forever, and tomorrow isn't guaranteed. I try, though I don't always succeed, to enjoy the here and the now instead of worrying about the tomorrow's and what could go wrongs. Without cancer, without the lessons and hitting absolute rock bottom in my own life, I wouldn't be where I am now enjoying the privilege I get spend each day with my parents and other ones while the opportunity is available.
Another piece of advice from one of my favorite authors, Mitch Albom:
Hope, no matter how buried, wants to find the light of day and rises from within us until it does.
This one helps me in my darkest moments, when I can't see hope, that even when I cannot see the light at the end of the tunnel, it's still there, in some form. It exists, even if I can't see it yet.
Similarly, from Spider-Man:
No matter how buried it gets or how lost you feel, you must promise me that you will hold on to hope.
Truer words have never been spoken.
Saturday, January 21, 2017
Telling Your Story
Today I attended a writing workshop regarding "telling your cancer story"
We learned how there are different approaches to use in your writing, and I relayed how I found out about the second cancer's diagnosis:
"I was visiting a friend in Vegas and reading some odd and cryptic status updates my Father was posting on FB. I knew something was up, and I texted and called to ask what was up, but Dad fibbed and said everything was fine. When my parents picked me up at the airport a day later, the bomb was dropped. He had cancer. I cried. We all did. And I thought, here we go again. And then we will wait for the doctor. Why again? I then did some reading of my own and determined with my non medical degree, that he was symptomatic of B12 deficiency and that was pretending to be his MDS (Myelodysplastic Syndrome). I even went so far to look up a supplement that would increase his platelet count and bought it and convinced my Dad to take it because if I could get his platelets high enough, I could get the Dr to admit he was wrong"
The topics drifted to many aspects of having cancer in your life. To the question of "What has cancer taken from you?", I responded "freedom from life without cancer being involved"
I was 15 at the time of my Dad's initial cancer diagnosis, and a freshman in high school.
I was slightly nervous, but it was time. With my Dad sitting next to me, I publicly admitted for the first time that I blocked out most of his first cancer journey as a way my 15 year old self exhibited self preservation and protected me, the only way it knew how.
I recall the large milestones, but most of my feelings were buried.
I noted in a FB post (after this initial blog post)
Prior to my father's initial cancer diagnosis, cancer was never really in my vocabulary. It was always something "someone else had." I don't even remember it being mentioned in the realm of possibility, as to what was wrong. I knew my Dad was not feeling well and in a lot of pain, but that was the extent of it to me. He was diagnosed with diffuse non Hodgkins large cell lymphoma. There was no internet, no google, no way for me to look up as I do now when we hear a new medical term. So my Mother and I supported my Dad every way we could. After school every day, my Mom would pick me up and we went to the hospital to spend time together. We ate dinner, talked, and I did my homework as my Dad received his Chemo treatments.
Although I knew nothing of his type of cancer, since then I'm especially in tune to others who receive the same diagnosis he did.
It was the 2nd cancer diagnosis was where I really felt it and it hit me.
I looked over at My Dad, and he was beaming, as he flashed me a smile.
One in the workshop said how her kids didn't want to be known as "the kid who's parent had cancer"... I could relate to that. I was terrified of people finding out. Not really sure why. Because I would have to acknowledge it? Because I was unsure of myself and wanted to avoid something further to separate myself from my classmates and wanted to "blend in?"
I'm 43 now. These are feelings I've buried for the better part of 28 years. Perhaps between this and future blog posts, I can finally address those and put this to rest.
Old habits die hard, because though we are involved in the Relay for Life of Chandler as a family, I still stay on the outskirts of being completely involved, at least in my eyes.
Every day, week, month and year is a progression in the journey for me to acknowledge and accept, my Father's cancer as part of my journey and how it shapes my life.
I participate but I am still learning how to process and TO process, my feelings, when it comes to cancer.
My friend Jenn noted:
"That's a continual learning process. And it should be really"
For me, talking about it intimately means I have to acknowledge it.
I was afraid I would get upset today.
I was hesitant to go.
I went out of my comfort zone, but I was so glad I did.
I have no problem expressing myself and my feelings, especially through the written word, but in a group settling where I have to say them in front of a group, oh no!
I learned, once again, I am never as alone as I think I am with what I feel.
The same things I worry or get upset over - so do others.
The workshop will be supplemented by a FB group, where more writing exercises will be completed. I look forward to this writing journey as a step in my personal progression.
We learned how there are different approaches to use in your writing, and I relayed how I found out about the second cancer's diagnosis:
"I was visiting a friend in Vegas and reading some odd and cryptic status updates my Father was posting on FB. I knew something was up, and I texted and called to ask what was up, but Dad fibbed and said everything was fine. When my parents picked me up at the airport a day later, the bomb was dropped. He had cancer. I cried. We all did. And I thought, here we go again. And then we will wait for the doctor. Why again? I then did some reading of my own and determined with my non medical degree, that he was symptomatic of B12 deficiency and that was pretending to be his MDS (Myelodysplastic Syndrome). I even went so far to look up a supplement that would increase his platelet count and bought it and convinced my Dad to take it because if I could get his platelets high enough, I could get the Dr to admit he was wrong"
The topics drifted to many aspects of having cancer in your life. To the question of "What has cancer taken from you?", I responded "freedom from life without cancer being involved"
I was 15 at the time of my Dad's initial cancer diagnosis, and a freshman in high school.
I was slightly nervous, but it was time. With my Dad sitting next to me, I publicly admitted for the first time that I blocked out most of his first cancer journey as a way my 15 year old self exhibited self preservation and protected me, the only way it knew how.
I recall the large milestones, but most of my feelings were buried.
I noted in a FB post (after this initial blog post)
Prior to my father's initial cancer diagnosis, cancer was never really in my vocabulary. It was always something "someone else had." I don't even remember it being mentioned in the realm of possibility, as to what was wrong. I knew my Dad was not feeling well and in a lot of pain, but that was the extent of it to me. He was diagnosed with diffuse non Hodgkins large cell lymphoma. There was no internet, no google, no way for me to look up as I do now when we hear a new medical term. So my Mother and I supported my Dad every way we could. After school every day, my Mom would pick me up and we went to the hospital to spend time together. We ate dinner, talked, and I did my homework as my Dad received his Chemo treatments.
Although I knew nothing of his type of cancer, since then I'm especially in tune to others who receive the same diagnosis he did.
It was the 2nd cancer diagnosis was where I really felt it and it hit me.
I looked over at My Dad, and he was beaming, as he flashed me a smile.
One in the workshop said how her kids didn't want to be known as "the kid who's parent had cancer"... I could relate to that. I was terrified of people finding out. Not really sure why. Because I would have to acknowledge it? Because I was unsure of myself and wanted to avoid something further to separate myself from my classmates and wanted to "blend in?"
I'm 43 now. These are feelings I've buried for the better part of 28 years. Perhaps between this and future blog posts, I can finally address those and put this to rest.
Old habits die hard, because though we are involved in the Relay for Life of Chandler as a family, I still stay on the outskirts of being completely involved, at least in my eyes.
Every day, week, month and year is a progression in the journey for me to acknowledge and accept, my Father's cancer as part of my journey and how it shapes my life.
I participate but I am still learning how to process and TO process, my feelings, when it comes to cancer.
My friend Jenn noted:
"That's a continual learning process. And it should be really"
For me, talking about it intimately means I have to acknowledge it.
I was afraid I would get upset today.
I was hesitant to go.
I went out of my comfort zone, but I was so glad I did.
I have no problem expressing myself and my feelings, especially through the written word, but in a group settling where I have to say them in front of a group, oh no!
I learned, once again, I am never as alone as I think I am with what I feel.
The same things I worry or get upset over - so do others.
The workshop will be supplemented by a FB group, where more writing exercises will be completed. I look forward to this writing journey as a step in my personal progression.
Tuesday, December 27, 2016
"When the student is ready, the teacher will appear"
"When the student is ready, the teacher will appear" -- Wally Amos
Another quote from Wally Amos that I post and refer to quite a bit:
Our lessons can come in unexpected forms and surprise us at times.
As is our family tradition, we went to the movies and had Chinese food on Christmas Day.
As it worked out, I took advantage of some free time and saw 4 movies over the long weekend:
Collateral Beauty
Rogue One
Arrival
Passengers
Although they were all great individually, Each had some lessons to impart to me that I captured, collectively and individually, from each of the four movies:
You can plan the hell out of anything, but things are going to come up that can or will change your plan.
You can choose to fight that change, or you can embrace it and by doing so, fully appreciate and enjoy what you have as long as you have it.
If you look hard enough, There are times we already know the answer; we just don't realize how deeply buried it is.
Love the ones you're with, and just make it worth it.
You can lose something in an instant without any warning whatsoever.
We cannot stop life, the bad or even the good, from happening but we can always choose how we react to, and grow from it rather than letting it control us.
In one of these movies was a quote to the effect of...
"If you had your life to do over again, would you change anything, the good or the bad"
Surprisingly, No..I choose to take it all, for you can't appreciate the good without the bad, and because my greatest failures have led to my greatest lessons. Even when I don't realize it while going through them.
What you see as this chapter's ending is really the beginning of the next chapter in the book.
No matter what life, the universe, or however you choose to call it, throws at you, you really just need to bounce back and move on.
And...I still, really really really - want to travel and spacewalk in outer space.
Another quote from Wally Amos that I post and refer to quite a bit:
"We share what we
need to learn.
An interesting thing
about change is that once it happens, your best option is to accept
it. You cannot undo it. You cannot wish things would be like they
were. Getting angry is a complete waste
of time. You will only grow old wishing
things were different. The sooner you
accept the change you are cursing the quicker you can enjoy the results of the
changed experience."
Our lessons can come in unexpected forms and surprise us at times.
As is our family tradition, we went to the movies and had Chinese food on Christmas Day.
As it worked out, I took advantage of some free time and saw 4 movies over the long weekend:
Collateral Beauty
Rogue One
Arrival
Passengers
Although they were all great individually, Each had some lessons to impart to me that I captured, collectively and individually, from each of the four movies:
You can plan the hell out of anything, but things are going to come up that can or will change your plan.
You can choose to fight that change, or you can embrace it and by doing so, fully appreciate and enjoy what you have as long as you have it.
If you look hard enough, There are times we already know the answer; we just don't realize how deeply buried it is.
Love the ones you're with, and just make it worth it.
You can lose something in an instant without any warning whatsoever.
We cannot stop life, the bad or even the good, from happening but we can always choose how we react to, and grow from it rather than letting it control us.
In one of these movies was a quote to the effect of...
"If you had your life to do over again, would you change anything, the good or the bad"
Surprisingly, No..I choose to take it all, for you can't appreciate the good without the bad, and because my greatest failures have led to my greatest lessons. Even when I don't realize it while going through them.
What you see as this chapter's ending is really the beginning of the next chapter in the book.
No matter what life, the universe, or however you choose to call it, throws at you, you really just need to bounce back and move on.
And...I still, really really really - want to travel and spacewalk in outer space.
Saturday, October 22, 2016
"It's not what you look at that matters, It's what you see"
A couple of months ago, My Dad was asked to speak at a Relay for Life Event at two prison units near Tucson regarding his Cancer journey. The day was eye opening and enlightening for both of us. The full blog post can be viewed here:
http://projectjmz.blogspot.com/2016/08/another-day-that-changed-my-life.html
On October 20th, we returned to one of the same two units to participate in their Relay.
Going into the prison is always an attitude adjustment day.
It makes me thankful, appreciative, and grateful.
It goes both ways.
The inmates were so appreciative and thankful that we were there to help them with their Relay for Life event.
The day, once again, opened my eyes in more ways than I can describe,
but I'm going to try to.
These are people who made mistakes, and are paying the price.
They are people who have had cancer,
and who have had cancer steal people from them.
They are you, and they are me.
I felt we walked into and were welcomed immediately, into a family.
We have never felt more welcomed with open arms.
We were hugged and embraced, and shook hands and high fived with so many.
My Father had his head kissed and they blessed him!
One of the guys who we had met before on our previous visit to this unit came up to us as Dad was being introduced to the audience. He asked "Can I wheel him in the wheelchair to the podium? I would be so honored"
Wow. How touching. Not a "surprised" wow, but a confirmation of just how highly we were regarded. It's over 24 hours later and I'm still processing everything and reliving moments from the day, over and over, in my head.
Once again, I had the honor of watching my Dad captivate the audience as he gave his
speech. He "HAD" them!
Throughout his speech and as we walked the Unity Lap, they cheered for him, and clapped. They cheered for me, as his son and Caregiver. I think for the first time, I might have just begun to realize exactly how much support I provide to my Dad and Mom, and how it comes across to others. I joked that I was "the chauffeur" but to him, I am truly much more than that.
He called me out in his speech which usually makes me want to disappear in a corner somewhere, but this time i was already front and center, holding the microphone for him so he could focus on his speech. In hindsight, it was an ironic yet symbolic display of how I support my Dad each and everyday.
They asked him to lead the Unity Lap, and he did, as I got a good workout in pushing him in a wheelchair.
Some of the many comments and compliments we received:
"Thank You for driving him here"
"God Bless You"
"Your story really touched me."
"You are a walking miracle"
"These guys complain about a sore ankle. They have nothing on you"
"Take care of your Dad"
More hugs, embraces, shakes and high fives, and of course, more patting and kissing of Dad's head.
After we left, my Dad commented that he felt safer inside the walls of the prison than outside. So did I. All this craziness out here, and all we felt inside was love, support, and protection. We were embraced, loved, and honored.
It was the least judged place I have ever been in my life.
There was just pure and complete acceptance of us,
something I just don't experience in many places like I did here.
And I was a male wearing a purple tutu at the time!
As we left the parking lot, the song "Time of Your Life" was playing on the radio. I couldn't agree more. The universe was sending us another sign.
Speaking of signs, I saw this on the way home and I felt it summed everything up quite nicely:
"It's not what you look at that matters, It's what you see"
The day at the Prison was an overwhelming experience for both us.
Prison Days change my life, and even if I don't realize I need it, they adjust my attitude and apply a course correction.
The two prisons we've attended Relay for Life events at continue to be the most inspiring and awesome events we've ever been to. Like the 1st visit, I felt "something magical" and life changing about the whole experience. I hope to return for many more such events.
http://projectjmz.blogspot.com/2016/08/another-day-that-changed-my-life.html
On October 20th, we returned to one of the same two units to participate in their Relay.
Going into the prison is always an attitude adjustment day.
It makes me thankful, appreciative, and grateful.
It goes both ways.
The inmates were so appreciative and thankful that we were there to help them with their Relay for Life event.
The day, once again, opened my eyes in more ways than I can describe,
but I'm going to try to.
These are people who made mistakes, and are paying the price.
They are people who have had cancer,
and who have had cancer steal people from them.
They are you, and they are me.
I felt we walked into and were welcomed immediately, into a family.
We have never felt more welcomed with open arms.
We were hugged and embraced, and shook hands and high fived with so many.
My Father had his head kissed and they blessed him!
One of the guys who we had met before on our previous visit to this unit came up to us as Dad was being introduced to the audience. He asked "Can I wheel him in the wheelchair to the podium? I would be so honored"
Wow. How touching. Not a "surprised" wow, but a confirmation of just how highly we were regarded. It's over 24 hours later and I'm still processing everything and reliving moments from the day, over and over, in my head.
Once again, I had the honor of watching my Dad captivate the audience as he gave his
speech. He "HAD" them!
Throughout his speech and as we walked the Unity Lap, they cheered for him, and clapped. They cheered for me, as his son and Caregiver. I think for the first time, I might have just begun to realize exactly how much support I provide to my Dad and Mom, and how it comes across to others. I joked that I was "the chauffeur" but to him, I am truly much more than that.
He called me out in his speech which usually makes me want to disappear in a corner somewhere, but this time i was already front and center, holding the microphone for him so he could focus on his speech. In hindsight, it was an ironic yet symbolic display of how I support my Dad each and everyday.
They asked him to lead the Unity Lap, and he did, as I got a good workout in pushing him in a wheelchair.
Some of the many comments and compliments we received:
"Thank You for driving him here"
"God Bless You"
"Your story really touched me."
"You are a walking miracle"
"These guys complain about a sore ankle. They have nothing on you"
"Take care of your Dad"
More hugs, embraces, shakes and high fives, and of course, more patting and kissing of Dad's head.
After we left, my Dad commented that he felt safer inside the walls of the prison than outside. So did I. All this craziness out here, and all we felt inside was love, support, and protection. We were embraced, loved, and honored.
It was the least judged place I have ever been in my life.
There was just pure and complete acceptance of us,
something I just don't experience in many places like I did here.
And I was a male wearing a purple tutu at the time!
As we left the parking lot, the song "Time of Your Life" was playing on the radio. I couldn't agree more. The universe was sending us another sign.
Speaking of signs, I saw this on the way home and I felt it summed everything up quite nicely:
"It's not what you look at that matters, It's what you see"
The day at the Prison was an overwhelming experience for both us.
Prison Days change my life, and even if I don't realize I need it, they adjust my attitude and apply a course correction.
The two prisons we've attended Relay for Life events at continue to be the most inspiring and awesome events we've ever been to. Like the 1st visit, I felt "something magical" and life changing about the whole experience. I hope to return for many more such events.
Sunday, August 28, 2016
Another Day that Changed My Life
Wednesday, August 24, 2016
This quote popped into my head, and my overactive brain wouldn't let it go. I kept thinking about it, but wasn't really sure what exactly I was struggling with. Since FB posting is helpful for me, and I figured others might benefit or be struggling too, I re-posted the quote.
"Nobody likes letting go. From our earliest moments, from birth until we're six feet under, our instinct is to grab, grip, cling to a finger, bottle, best friend, to a faded old racing form. Sometimes we hold on for dear life to the very things that keep us from living it, but that comes with an upside. It's the way we feel when we finally let go. The trick, I guess, is to not find a way around the curveballs life serves up, but to live with them; a halfway happy, uneasy alliance, and to search for new things to cling to, and when you finally find them to hang on just as tight. And around and around we go, holding on until the time comes to say goodbye, and like it or not, ready or not, you have to accept one universal truth: life is messy. Always and for all of us. But a wise man once said, maybe messy is what you need, and I think you might be right." -- Mary Shannon from "In Plain Sight"
Thursday, August 25, 2016 I shared another post on Facebook
"What doesn't kill you gives you a lot of unhealthy coping mechanisms and a really dark sense of humor"
I posted it as a sarcastic meme, but it really rang quite true.
Friday, August 26, 2016
At the request of my Father about a month prior, I took a Vacation Day from work to drive him to Tucson, to speak at 2 unique Relay for Life of Events. I didn't really have thoughts one way or another as far as going or not going, or anything where I felt I didn't really want to go. As luck (or possibly fate) would have it, I would drive both him and another one our close Relay Family friends. In my eyes, I was the hired chauffeur for the day, but since I would get to spend the drive down there with both Dad and Ashley, it was a pleasant way to spend a vacation day, and a day away from work, which is a vacation in itself.
I made multiple jokes leading up to the day
"I can't believe I'm taking a day off of work to go to jail"
"They have 13,000 inmates? Well they will probably have 13,002 by the end of Friday"
Even that morning: "I hope its not a few years before I get out"
The drive down was uneventful. It was wonderful, as expected, getting to spend quality time with both Dad and Ashley, talking and catching up.
We arrived, parked the car and went into the first Prison unit where Dad was talking. They were holding their actual Relay, and Dad was one of the Survivor Speakers. Even though I have heard his speech before, I don't feel like I have really witnessed other people's reactions to it, or its been so long that I have forgotten. At any rate, even though they were nearly 1200 inmates in the yard we were in, his story connected with many of them with him.
This sea of orange, hooted, hollered, cheered, and clapped at various points during his speech of his cancer journey and why he volunteers along with his positive outlook on life.
Even though, like I said, I have heard his speech before, It was like hearing his speech through the audience's eyes. I felt this amazing sense of pride and joy.
Another one of the Survivors, also an inmate, also made an impact on me with his speech:
"Best Case Scenario: I beat cancer and go home"
"Worst Case Scenario: I don't beat cancer and go home to Jesus"
Whoa. What an outlook.
"Even if you don't beat cancer, always, always, keep fighting until the end"
When the Survivor Lap began, they patted Dad on the shoulder, high fived him, and asked if they could walk with him...It was extremely touching to witness for me. I can only imagine how it made him feel.
The prisoners raise money and participate like any typical Relay for Life - play games, walk, run, the Survivor and Caregiver Lap, etc. It was very eye opening and a completely different vibe than any other Relay even I have ever been to.
We thought everything would be very controlled and monitored, guards stationed every few feet. But, if you didn't know you were at a prison, you would have thought it was any other event at a park or high school.
Talking to one of inmates during some downtime, he shared part of his own story:
"Sometimes you make a stupid decision. Some just get caught"
"You can make the most of it and learn from your mistakes or you can go back and repeat them"
"There are people here who will never learn"
Basically, prisoners are people too, people who make mistakes, and its really not much like what you see on TV.
We went to lunch before making our way to the 2nd Unit, this one more heavily guarded, we went through a slightly more thorough security check, multiple separated glass doors, etc. I was amused to see, similar to how it is portrayed on TV, that prisoners with good behavior were driving buses around the complex from the main building to each unit.
This unit was a different setup - they were not having their actual Relay yet, so Dad gave his speech in effect, to the Planning Committee, made up of approximately 7 inmates. In many ways, this was a more intimate setting with only 10 of us total in the room. I could instantly feel his connection with everyone else in the room, and even now, writing this 2 days later, I still get a combination of chills and warm fuzzies. It was a magical set of moments I am so proud to have been there firsthand to experience.
The most interesting question, which I don't think he's been asked before, was
"What's on your bucket list?"
One of the things I got a kick out of was they told him for as much medically as he has going on, he doesn't look that bad!
Multiple times,the group asked him if there was any way possible, for him to make the trip back for their actual Relay Day. Different inmates, almost asking in a way like you are asking a teacher for permission. It was so heartfelt and awesome to experience. They all (as did we) wanted to take a picture together, so we did.
It was one of the many highlights of the day.
My Dad posted, on his Facebook on Friday as well:
What a unique and wonderful day. I had the honor of speaking about relay for life at two units of the Arizona state prison in Tucson. We mingled and talked with the inmates, more than 1,250 of them in minimum and medium security units. We got to know them as human beings, albeit ones who made a mistake and are now paying for it. They were so appreciative that we came all the way from Chandler to be with them and urge them on. We participated in the relay of the first unit and were asked to return in the next few months for the actual relay in the second unit. Handshakes and "bro" hugs accompanied our exit. This was the first time I have ever visited a prison. My only "knowledge" of prison life came from what is displayed on TV shows. What an awakening today. All the inmates working together in a common cause-the fight against cancer. I am so proud to have been a part of it.
Clearly the day made a huge impact on both of us.
It was a completely different vibe than anything I've ever felt or seen before. I hope i get to experience it again. Euphoric. The whole day has been replaying in my mind since we left. It changed my life. More on this below, but, I can't wait to go back for what is hopefully the first of many Relay Events we participate in here.
It was one of the most enlightening and inspirational days. I am thrilled to have had the opportunity to participate.
Later on Friday, after we got home, I stated:
It was one of those cathartic and fulfilling days where I choose to believe the universe made things happen the way they were meant to be. Grateful, and Inspired don't even begin to describe it.
I slept better that night than I had in a while.
It took me a couple of days to process the mix of emotions I felt. In some ways, I think I will continue processing and benefitting from everything I felt and saw. I felt like this cloud that I've been living in, that I had no idea was there...had been lifted, this huge weight off my shoulders. I am incredibly thankful and grateful that things have happened the way they did.
What I came to realize was that the best thing you can do for yourself is to forgive yourself, because no one is perfect, and everyone at some point, makes a mistake. For the first time in years, the black cloud lifted, and I forgave myself.
As much as the prisoners felt we helped them reach their goal to raise money for cancer research, I think they helped me reach mine.
This quote popped into my head, and my overactive brain wouldn't let it go. I kept thinking about it, but wasn't really sure what exactly I was struggling with. Since FB posting is helpful for me, and I figured others might benefit or be struggling too, I re-posted the quote.
"Nobody likes letting go. From our earliest moments, from birth until we're six feet under, our instinct is to grab, grip, cling to a finger, bottle, best friend, to a faded old racing form. Sometimes we hold on for dear life to the very things that keep us from living it, but that comes with an upside. It's the way we feel when we finally let go. The trick, I guess, is to not find a way around the curveballs life serves up, but to live with them; a halfway happy, uneasy alliance, and to search for new things to cling to, and when you finally find them to hang on just as tight. And around and around we go, holding on until the time comes to say goodbye, and like it or not, ready or not, you have to accept one universal truth: life is messy. Always and for all of us. But a wise man once said, maybe messy is what you need, and I think you might be right." -- Mary Shannon from "In Plain Sight"
Thursday, August 25, 2016 I shared another post on Facebook
"What doesn't kill you gives you a lot of unhealthy coping mechanisms and a really dark sense of humor"
I posted it as a sarcastic meme, but it really rang quite true.
Friday, August 26, 2016
At the request of my Father about a month prior, I took a Vacation Day from work to drive him to Tucson, to speak at 2 unique Relay for Life of Events. I didn't really have thoughts one way or another as far as going or not going, or anything where I felt I didn't really want to go. As luck (or possibly fate) would have it, I would drive both him and another one our close Relay Family friends. In my eyes, I was the hired chauffeur for the day, but since I would get to spend the drive down there with both Dad and Ashley, it was a pleasant way to spend a vacation day, and a day away from work, which is a vacation in itself.
I made multiple jokes leading up to the day
"I can't believe I'm taking a day off of work to go to jail"
"They have 13,000 inmates? Well they will probably have 13,002 by the end of Friday"
Even that morning: "I hope its not a few years before I get out"
The drive down was uneventful. It was wonderful, as expected, getting to spend quality time with both Dad and Ashley, talking and catching up.
We arrived, parked the car and went into the first Prison unit where Dad was talking. They were holding their actual Relay, and Dad was one of the Survivor Speakers. Even though I have heard his speech before, I don't feel like I have really witnessed other people's reactions to it, or its been so long that I have forgotten. At any rate, even though they were nearly 1200 inmates in the yard we were in, his story connected with many of them with him.
This sea of orange, hooted, hollered, cheered, and clapped at various points during his speech of his cancer journey and why he volunteers along with his positive outlook on life.
Even though, like I said, I have heard his speech before, It was like hearing his speech through the audience's eyes. I felt this amazing sense of pride and joy.
Another one of the Survivors, also an inmate, also made an impact on me with his speech:
"Best Case Scenario: I beat cancer and go home"
"Worst Case Scenario: I don't beat cancer and go home to Jesus"
Whoa. What an outlook.
"Even if you don't beat cancer, always, always, keep fighting until the end"
When the Survivor Lap began, they patted Dad on the shoulder, high fived him, and asked if they could walk with him...It was extremely touching to witness for me. I can only imagine how it made him feel.
The prisoners raise money and participate like any typical Relay for Life - play games, walk, run, the Survivor and Caregiver Lap, etc. It was very eye opening and a completely different vibe than any other Relay even I have ever been to.
We thought everything would be very controlled and monitored, guards stationed every few feet. But, if you didn't know you were at a prison, you would have thought it was any other event at a park or high school.
Talking to one of inmates during some downtime, he shared part of his own story:
"Sometimes you make a stupid decision. Some just get caught"
"You can make the most of it and learn from your mistakes or you can go back and repeat them"
"There are people here who will never learn"
Basically, prisoners are people too, people who make mistakes, and its really not much like what you see on TV.
We went to lunch before making our way to the 2nd Unit, this one more heavily guarded, we went through a slightly more thorough security check, multiple separated glass doors, etc. I was amused to see, similar to how it is portrayed on TV, that prisoners with good behavior were driving buses around the complex from the main building to each unit.
This unit was a different setup - they were not having their actual Relay yet, so Dad gave his speech in effect, to the Planning Committee, made up of approximately 7 inmates. In many ways, this was a more intimate setting with only 10 of us total in the room. I could instantly feel his connection with everyone else in the room, and even now, writing this 2 days later, I still get a combination of chills and warm fuzzies. It was a magical set of moments I am so proud to have been there firsthand to experience.
The most interesting question, which I don't think he's been asked before, was
"What's on your bucket list?"
One of the things I got a kick out of was they told him for as much medically as he has going on, he doesn't look that bad!
Multiple times,the group asked him if there was any way possible, for him to make the trip back for their actual Relay Day. Different inmates, almost asking in a way like you are asking a teacher for permission. It was so heartfelt and awesome to experience. They all (as did we) wanted to take a picture together, so we did.
It was one of the many highlights of the day.
My Dad posted, on his Facebook on Friday as well:
What a unique and wonderful day. I had the honor of speaking about relay for life at two units of the Arizona state prison in Tucson. We mingled and talked with the inmates, more than 1,250 of them in minimum and medium security units. We got to know them as human beings, albeit ones who made a mistake and are now paying for it. They were so appreciative that we came all the way from Chandler to be with them and urge them on. We participated in the relay of the first unit and were asked to return in the next few months for the actual relay in the second unit. Handshakes and "bro" hugs accompanied our exit. This was the first time I have ever visited a prison. My only "knowledge" of prison life came from what is displayed on TV shows. What an awakening today. All the inmates working together in a common cause-the fight against cancer. I am so proud to have been a part of it.
Clearly the day made a huge impact on both of us.
It was a completely different vibe than anything I've ever felt or seen before. I hope i get to experience it again. Euphoric. The whole day has been replaying in my mind since we left. It changed my life. More on this below, but, I can't wait to go back for what is hopefully the first of many Relay Events we participate in here.
It was one of the most enlightening and inspirational days. I am thrilled to have had the opportunity to participate.
Later on Friday, after we got home, I stated:
It was one of those cathartic and fulfilling days where I choose to believe the universe made things happen the way they were meant to be. Grateful, and Inspired don't even begin to describe it.
I slept better that night than I had in a while.
It took me a couple of days to process the mix of emotions I felt. In some ways, I think I will continue processing and benefitting from everything I felt and saw. I felt like this cloud that I've been living in, that I had no idea was there...had been lifted, this huge weight off my shoulders. I am incredibly thankful and grateful that things have happened the way they did.
What I came to realize was that the best thing you can do for yourself is to forgive yourself, because no one is perfect, and everyone at some point, makes a mistake. For the first time in years, the black cloud lifted, and I forgave myself.
As much as the prisoners felt we helped them reach their goal to raise money for cancer research, I think they helped me reach mine.
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