I often look at people who are able to hold their tongue and stay quiet in admiration. As a person who was never taught that there was a difference between men and women (because there isn't) and that you should speak your mind and you should speak up, I do. It is often my worst and least appealing trait. People often think I come off as cocky, too strong, set in my ways, sometimes confident, powerful, bitchy, the list goes on. Anything negative associated with power and female - that's what you get with me. Believe me, it's not a good thing and is often looked down upon by many men and more women. However, don't think people are afraid to ask for help when they need someone to speak up for them. I am known to defend the battles of others more than I can say.
In any workplace or school place environment, people encourage open communication. In fact, they want it. That is, until they get it. Once you start communicating, people back up and fear that you are actually doing what they ask. You want feedback, you get feedback. However, those shy and quiet folks often are given the benefit of the doubt and seen as the people want to be around the most. Again, I envy them tremendously because I am not like that. In fact, I HATE that I am not like that. But, what these people are actually doing, is directly showing you their feelings. That maybe they don't want to be called on for an answer, or that they are openly afraid to meet new people, that maybe they have been hurt in their past and it's very difficult for them to start over. All of the things we all feel, but may not say out loud. I admire their ability to be open and honest about their feelings so people know outright how they feel and can make a judgment on their character right then and there (because they will, believe me).
Then you have the "me" types. We do speak our minds and ask a lot of questions and walk with our heads held high. Am I wrong, or is this just another facade? It seems so simple to me. In fact, it seems that the people who are acting so confident might in fact be less confident? Now, don't get me wrong, there are a few things I know about myself and I have fully accepted them and am I OK with them. I typically get right back up after having my legs kicked from underneath me. Those of you who know me well, know that this is my strongest trait. But that doesn't mean I am great at everything. In fact, I am just as afraid as everyone else. No one wants to be hurt and exposed. It is truly one of the hardest things in the world.
However, I do believe in leading by example and if I am going to complain about it, I will accept my piece in it. I am cocky because I am scared and have been hurt by the people you should NEVER be hurt by. And not just a little bit, like the WORST kind of hurt. Something psychology, conflict management and resolution and social work combined cant put a solution to. However, I am still going. This is not about being victim, it is about saying hey, here are my flaws, I am going to over come all of this anyway!
So, I will leave this brief blog on this note. Go easy, not everyone is what they appear. We are all here trying to get through this thing together. Some of us just don't show it as well as others.
"Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle."
Plato
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Change? AGAIN?
Why is it that as humans we are so resistant to change? It's not a specific person or type of person, we are all resistant to some sort of change. I used to think I wasn't so resistant, but wow, as I get older, I really fight it. With some things I am totally open and willing to listen to others opinions on things, whether we agree or not, I am totally willing to change cars to a newer and more comfortable car, I am willing to get a house with more closet space, but why am I so afraid to have left a job that I had my heart so set on for so many years?
So, at this point my boss and I talked and he tried to get me to quit. I couldn't afford to quit, so he said he was going to work on the process of termination. It of course wasn't this smooth, but for confidentiality reasons, I can't speak details of this conversation, but I will say much respect was lost during this time frame. I also talked to HR in this process and neither were much help. HR said he couldn't help. This was prior to my termination. How is that possible? Anyway, they made me wait 1.5 weeks for my termination papers. I came in and worked while waiting. When I got my papers (my boss called in sick that day), they didn't say anything on what the boss and I talked about. HR made up some crazy letter that didn't match. I would recommend no one from that university use HR, they will stab you in the back, FYI. You know who you are. I was so mad after I left, I called the president. He had the vice president call me back. She agreed that my bosses email sounded NOTHING like the letter of termination and was quite confused. I asked her if "when an employee who is a student leaves the university, is this how you treat all of them? Are you concerned about the relationships that remain with those university students afterward?" She agreed it was out of hand and put a note in my file.
As a younger person, my family moved a lot. We lived in almost every neighborhood in the Denver metro area. It sucked because we never actually left Denver, we just went to Littleton, or Arvada, or Aurora. Where's the fun in that if you stay in the same state? Anyway, change was constant growing up. And with an unstable family situation, we never knew what was going to happen, so we were always ready at a moments notice for anything. So, maybe this is part of my resistance to change? It could very well be.
As I have gotten older and of course more wise, without children, I have become extremely protective of other peoples children. Psychologists insert your analysis here. Anyway, I am extremely concerned for everyone's security - especially their kids. I want to be sure that people are safe. This society has turned into a very unsafe place to live. As a kid, we had so much more freedom than the kids do now. I remember a story Chris Rock told in one of his hour long comedies about how kids started off with a nice big back yard to play in and it has slowly started to shrink over the years to the point where they have to hop up and down in one square foot of an area. It's true! We aren't safe. Talk about change and fear!
So, after spending many of my adult years, six to be exact, getting my bachelors degree at my university while working full time, I of course embodied the Jesuit tradition and my university mission - "men and women in service of others." Christianity is of course part of my religious views and all of what I grew up in. I respect the views tremendously and realize many people don't, but since when do I do what everyone else does? Anyhow, I was very moved by my education and started having a strong desire to work there. I tried for years to get into my university applying constantly. I knew I wanted to teach there. I just knew it. I persevered and finally got in.
I got a tech support job which I don't always prefer, but that is the largest part of my experience and what everyone tends to notice on my resume. They were asking for a "true team spirited" person who could support the product. The job description was totally me.
As I started in the first month, it was IDEAL. I loved it. People were nice and helped me. My boss explained things, once, not twice. I asked him to check my work, but he never did. I started to notice this piece of software literally had NO documentation on the product and how to use it. None from the university and none from the company who designed it. Am I the only one who thinks that's weird? Anyway, guess who started writing it? You got it - me.
After a month, the girls started showing their true cattiness and it got really uncomfortable and I was outnumbered. Remember, I come from a male dominated industry, so I was taken off guard. I was VERY uncomfortable and becoming miserable. My boss didn't know what to do because he was a new manager. He seemed to just not want to have any problems. Just want everything to run smoothly. The other people on our team had been doing their jobs for a while before he was their manager and didn't need his assistance. It had nothing to do with what we did, so they never talked to him. Did I mention I took over his old job?
The next thing I know he was targeting me and trying to find flaws in my work. At least it felt like it. I moved my cube to get out of the line of fire of the two girls who made me extremely uncomfortable and honestly, my boss. He didn't want to help, he wanted me to figure things out without his help and without documentation. I don't learn that way and it started to get really bad. I was very discouraged. and beyond that, none of them were involved with the university mission work. I was TOTALLY bummed. What did I walk into?
So, at this point my boss and I talked and he tried to get me to quit. I couldn't afford to quit, so he said he was going to work on the process of termination. It of course wasn't this smooth, but for confidentiality reasons, I can't speak details of this conversation, but I will say much respect was lost during this time frame. I also talked to HR in this process and neither were much help. HR said he couldn't help. This was prior to my termination. How is that possible? Anyway, they made me wait 1.5 weeks for my termination papers. I came in and worked while waiting. When I got my papers (my boss called in sick that day), they didn't say anything on what the boss and I talked about. HR made up some crazy letter that didn't match. I would recommend no one from that university use HR, they will stab you in the back, FYI. You know who you are. I was so mad after I left, I called the president. He had the vice president call me back. She agreed that my bosses email sounded NOTHING like the letter of termination and was quite confused. I asked her if "when an employee who is a student leaves the university, is this how you treat all of them? Are you concerned about the relationships that remain with those university students afterward?" She agreed it was out of hand and put a note in my file.
I am still very upset at the way things played out. I held the university in such high regard and got let down, BAD. I guess I had kind of glorified them and didn't want to let go of that. I knew that things weren't working for a very long time, but I held on for a full five months. Hoping something would change.
The point of this blog, is I started turning into this miserable person to maintain something that I was not meant to be a part of. I held on to something that was turning me into a bad person. If we resist change, it's going to change us for the bad, not the good. Sometimes we have to let go of those "cherished beliefs" in order to start the life we are meant to live. I am sure that's a quote, but I don't know who from, so forgive me if I am not quoting it properly. The point is, fearing change and doing nothing about it can be potentially detrimental. It is critical you realize those signs and don't ignore them. No matter how close they are to our hearts, we need to move forward and accept the change that is meant to make us the people we are meant to be.
“If you don't create change, change will create you”
Unknown
Sunday, May 1, 2011
That Cocky Bitch...
Right? Is this not your first thought when you see a woman walk by with her head in the air talking wide strides with an air of confidence about her? Who does she think she is? She isn't ALL that! She has this flaw or that flaw about her. We have seen it. She is just a bitch. Spoken like a true jealous and insecure person. It's OK, we are ALL jealous and insecure of SOMEONE. I know MANY people who are more beautiful, strong and more intelligent than me, but I try not to let it get me down. It isn't the end of the world, after all. There will ALWAYS be someone more intelligent and beautiful than me. No doubt about it.
So, I am a decent looking, strong willed, outspoken, hold my head high kind of gal. It's funny, I know more people who don't like it than those who do. You can't imagine those who cackle behind my back and those who pretend to like me to my face. Even close friends do it. It is astounding how many people treat you badly if you have the slightest amount of confidence. And yes, passive aggressive jabs count as a form of abuse and jealousy. HELLO?
I have never thought I was THAT great. I was a spoiled brat and much of a bully as a younger girl. As a spoiled brat, I felt entitled to do what I wanted. Not that it's an excuse, but it is what it is. I find it amusing that I have come to say "you know what, I was a bully and I am not proud of it." Yet so many people continually like to tell me how horrible I was. Really, I have fessed up to it. I can't change it, nothing will be different but the present moment and the future. Who is the bully now?
Let me tell you a little bit about what I do know. An older family member of mine that everyone so worships (I can't figure out why, she is mean to everyone), has always hated me. Literally, since birth. When I was a few months old, she even sat on me in my car seat and tried to smother me. Though we all thought it was funny at the time, it was just the beginning of her true hate for me for being born. She couldn't stand the fact that someone else might have to share her limelight. It was almost as if I went upstairs and talked to God and said, "God, please be sure and make her get less attention than me. It would be fabulous to live under her torture for the rest of my life." I am not even sure she realizes she does it to this day, however, it has been damaging. Because of this treatment, I learned a specific technique with people. People see you as more human if they can see your flaws. Because guess what, even the most perfect woman in the world (Kate Middleton) has their flaws. We ALL do. Some are more visible than others. So, this "technique" I use is called "disarming." I go into a situation with people and try to make myself look like an idiot or show my imperfections by disarming people. This is not a difficult task for me. I lay out my cards and show people ME. I have a level of anxiety that is enough to make anyone crazy. Imagine what it does to me! I fear that I won't be accepted (wonder where that comes from?). I have gained a tremendous amount of weight since my car accident, in fact doubled my waist size and I have this in my heart "feeling," people think its crazy, but about 75% of the time it's true, that people REALLY don't like me. I can tell when people are thinking negatively about me. I just can. So, as I sit here with my fake smile, spilling my insecurities to all of you so that you don't think I am "that cocky bitch," I am suffering tremendously inside. It's funny, because no matter what, people still think I am a cocky bitch.
I am sure many of you will sit there rolling your eyes as you read this blog but I have one question to ask you. When you think someone is a cocky bitch or you think something negatively about someone like me specifically, dig deep inside your head and avoid using negative words and ask your self why you really feel that way. Be honest and see what you come up with. Are you feeling threatened by that person? Do they make you uncomfortable because they are more outgoing than you and have more "confidence?" I put that in quotes because none of us have TRUE confidence. I am faking it 90% of the time. There is no real reason for us to actually dislike someone based on their "confident" behavior. If I were a man, people would kiss the ground I walk on.
It's funny because the men who seem to be less threatened by my behavior, are the ones who seem the shyest. I have met some incredibly amazing men because they are not threatened by my "confidence." Then you have other men who pretend to be confident and they want to get as far away from you as possible (my last boss). Why do you think I thrive around nerds? They LOVE a strong woman! Is this a gaming thing, nerds? No offense meant, I love you all!
I don't know, I mean, we all have crap to put up with. We have people who are just crappy, angry, and bad all around us. It's just not fair. It makes us lock ourselves into a cave and never want to come out. But broken hearts are inevitable, people die and relationships end. These are three things I can guarantee. However, treating people with kindness and fairly is critical. Not only do I have to deal with the regular assholes walking on the street, but I have to deal with the ones who can't stand that I might have a few more assets than them? They are FAKE assets, folks. Help me out here! I would rather hand them off so those people would stop targeting me with their jealousy and frustration. I am not trying to sound like a conceited bitch, I swear, but you can't believe the number of people who are ALWAYS trying to take you down. The number is significantly higher than the ones who want to help you up. That is sad.
We all have to survive this world somehow. I have to hold my head up high to be ready for the next person to knock it down and they do, believe me. It's OK though, this isn't about ME. I guess I just want to be treated equally. Some might say you have a better chance and better opportunities. Yes, true. But for every chance and opportunity I get, there are four more people standing there to try and take it back. My last job is the PRIME example of that. What can I say? I guess maybe my biggest strength is that I get back up and never let anything defeat me.
So I leave you with this. I am going to disarm you now. I am a chubby, angry, anxiety and depression filled woman who has an amazing husband. I don't know how he tolerates me, but he does. In addition to that, I am very outspoken and have no problems sharing my emotions and feelings when someone hurts me. Which is often and I get upset because I have higher expectations of people. Apparently I am beautiful, cocky and confident with too much to say. But, I only think that I am all of these things because of the way everyone treats me. Maybe if everyone didn't try so hard to knock me down and let me stand up on my own, I wouldn't feel like I was a rock star! Thank you all, for helping me reach my stardom!
So, I am a decent looking, strong willed, outspoken, hold my head high kind of gal. It's funny, I know more people who don't like it than those who do. You can't imagine those who cackle behind my back and those who pretend to like me to my face. Even close friends do it. It is astounding how many people treat you badly if you have the slightest amount of confidence. And yes, passive aggressive jabs count as a form of abuse and jealousy. HELLO?
I have never thought I was THAT great. I was a spoiled brat and much of a bully as a younger girl. As a spoiled brat, I felt entitled to do what I wanted. Not that it's an excuse, but it is what it is. I find it amusing that I have come to say "you know what, I was a bully and I am not proud of it." Yet so many people continually like to tell me how horrible I was. Really, I have fessed up to it. I can't change it, nothing will be different but the present moment and the future. Who is the bully now?
Let me tell you a little bit about what I do know. An older family member of mine that everyone so worships (I can't figure out why, she is mean to everyone), has always hated me. Literally, since birth. When I was a few months old, she even sat on me in my car seat and tried to smother me. Though we all thought it was funny at the time, it was just the beginning of her true hate for me for being born. She couldn't stand the fact that someone else might have to share her limelight. It was almost as if I went upstairs and talked to God and said, "God, please be sure and make her get less attention than me. It would be fabulous to live under her torture for the rest of my life." I am not even sure she realizes she does it to this day, however, it has been damaging. Because of this treatment, I learned a specific technique with people. People see you as more human if they can see your flaws. Because guess what, even the most perfect woman in the world (Kate Middleton) has their flaws. We ALL do. Some are more visible than others. So, this "technique" I use is called "disarming." I go into a situation with people and try to make myself look like an idiot or show my imperfections by disarming people. This is not a difficult task for me. I lay out my cards and show people ME. I have a level of anxiety that is enough to make anyone crazy. Imagine what it does to me! I fear that I won't be accepted (wonder where that comes from?). I have gained a tremendous amount of weight since my car accident, in fact doubled my waist size and I have this in my heart "feeling," people think its crazy, but about 75% of the time it's true, that people REALLY don't like me. I can tell when people are thinking negatively about me. I just can. So, as I sit here with my fake smile, spilling my insecurities to all of you so that you don't think I am "that cocky bitch," I am suffering tremendously inside. It's funny, because no matter what, people still think I am a cocky bitch.
I am sure many of you will sit there rolling your eyes as you read this blog but I have one question to ask you. When you think someone is a cocky bitch or you think something negatively about someone like me specifically, dig deep inside your head and avoid using negative words and ask your self why you really feel that way. Be honest and see what you come up with. Are you feeling threatened by that person? Do they make you uncomfortable because they are more outgoing than you and have more "confidence?" I put that in quotes because none of us have TRUE confidence. I am faking it 90% of the time. There is no real reason for us to actually dislike someone based on their "confident" behavior. If I were a man, people would kiss the ground I walk on.
It's funny because the men who seem to be less threatened by my behavior, are the ones who seem the shyest. I have met some incredibly amazing men because they are not threatened by my "confidence." Then you have other men who pretend to be confident and they want to get as far away from you as possible (my last boss). Why do you think I thrive around nerds? They LOVE a strong woman! Is this a gaming thing, nerds? No offense meant, I love you all!
I don't know, I mean, we all have crap to put up with. We have people who are just crappy, angry, and bad all around us. It's just not fair. It makes us lock ourselves into a cave and never want to come out. But broken hearts are inevitable, people die and relationships end. These are three things I can guarantee. However, treating people with kindness and fairly is critical. Not only do I have to deal with the regular assholes walking on the street, but I have to deal with the ones who can't stand that I might have a few more assets than them? They are FAKE assets, folks. Help me out here! I would rather hand them off so those people would stop targeting me with their jealousy and frustration. I am not trying to sound like a conceited bitch, I swear, but you can't believe the number of people who are ALWAYS trying to take you down. The number is significantly higher than the ones who want to help you up. That is sad.
We all have to survive this world somehow. I have to hold my head up high to be ready for the next person to knock it down and they do, believe me. It's OK though, this isn't about ME. I guess I just want to be treated equally. Some might say you have a better chance and better opportunities. Yes, true. But for every chance and opportunity I get, there are four more people standing there to try and take it back. My last job is the PRIME example of that. What can I say? I guess maybe my biggest strength is that I get back up and never let anything defeat me.
So I leave you with this. I am going to disarm you now. I am a chubby, angry, anxiety and depression filled woman who has an amazing husband. I don't know how he tolerates me, but he does. In addition to that, I am very outspoken and have no problems sharing my emotions and feelings when someone hurts me. Which is often and I get upset because I have higher expectations of people. Apparently I am beautiful, cocky and confident with too much to say. But, I only think that I am all of these things because of the way everyone treats me. Maybe if everyone didn't try so hard to knock me down and let me stand up on my own, I wouldn't feel like I was a rock star! Thank you all, for helping me reach my stardom!
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
A Lighter Load
When I was a teenager, constant change was exciting and fun. I got to try new things and be spontaneous without consequence. Now, it is unstable, uncertain, scary and full of consequences that could change my life forever. Today my boss decided to (finally) let me know that he was going to let me go. We talked last Wednesday in the midst of my chaos with the loss of my beloved friend and cousin, Delaine, about having different ideas about how things should work in my current position. I was honest, so I was let go. How does that work? Anyway, I am in a strange way relieved that I am not stressed on a daily basis about what his, another girl on my team and another girl on the opposite teams moods will be like. I am going to quote Twilight just to irritate you guys but their "mood swings were giving me whiplash," man! I know I am a crazy, moody, exciting, fun, charismatic, bitchy, assertive, opinionated and loving person, but DAMN! I can control that shit at work! These people, it's like no one told them to turn off the faucet.
Anyway, I left with a friend helping carry a few of my belongings out and she was angry about the way things turned out. In fact, many people were angry about the way things turned out. I am 100% flattered that SO many people are being so supportive of me and the tiny impact I might have had in my short six months of employment there. But strangely, I am relieved. I am feeling better that I don't have to stress out about who is going to be in a bad mood today and who is going to scream at me for being imperfect and not learning exactly the way that they do (since this is how we all learn, right?). I am relieved. In fact, there is a possible job opening on the "other side" of the building where team work, people with high energy and charisma are welcome to be the way they are and in fact encouraged because it brings in more students! I hope they won't look on me unfavorably when I apply considering I went to them today and told them what was happening and still expressed my interest. When those jobs post, I am still going to apply.
So, as I was loading my car with my belongings, I got a text from another friend. She asked if I was still looking for a job. I literally walked out the door and a new one opened. I am not sure if this job is the right fit, or the right job for that matter, but I got a boost. I felt better. And it reminded me AGAIN that I have an incredible group of people always looking out for me.
How on earth did I get so lucky? I am so blessed by GOD, yep, I said it, GOD, and the universe to be surrounded with wonderful people who are always watching out for me. And not only that, people who are willing to stand up when something is wrong too. What a good feeling.
So I have decided that for now, I am meant to focus on school (I have to pay for my classes. Free ones would have started next month. Boo.), yoga and blogging. I do love to write more than I ever thought and it is coming through when I speak to my few faithful followers!
This is your lighter load, my friends. Just a brief update without taking you into the depths of emotion today. Sometimes a lighter load is a little easier to carry...
Anyway, I left with a friend helping carry a few of my belongings out and she was angry about the way things turned out. In fact, many people were angry about the way things turned out. I am 100% flattered that SO many people are being so supportive of me and the tiny impact I might have had in my short six months of employment there. But strangely, I am relieved. I am feeling better that I don't have to stress out about who is going to be in a bad mood today and who is going to scream at me for being imperfect and not learning exactly the way that they do (since this is how we all learn, right?). I am relieved. In fact, there is a possible job opening on the "other side" of the building where team work, people with high energy and charisma are welcome to be the way they are and in fact encouraged because it brings in more students! I hope they won't look on me unfavorably when I apply considering I went to them today and told them what was happening and still expressed my interest. When those jobs post, I am still going to apply.
So, as I was loading my car with my belongings, I got a text from another friend. She asked if I was still looking for a job. I literally walked out the door and a new one opened. I am not sure if this job is the right fit, or the right job for that matter, but I got a boost. I felt better. And it reminded me AGAIN that I have an incredible group of people always looking out for me.
How on earth did I get so lucky? I am so blessed by GOD, yep, I said it, GOD, and the universe to be surrounded with wonderful people who are always watching out for me. And not only that, people who are willing to stand up when something is wrong too. What a good feeling.
So I have decided that for now, I am meant to focus on school (I have to pay for my classes. Free ones would have started next month. Boo.), yoga and blogging. I do love to write more than I ever thought and it is coming through when I speak to my few faithful followers!
This is your lighter load, my friends. Just a brief update without taking you into the depths of emotion today. Sometimes a lighter load is a little easier to carry...
Friday, April 15, 2011
The Story of An Irishman
On April 6, 2011, my dear friend and cousin died of a disease that has no cure yet. For confidentiality reasons, we won't go into details. Del was 34 years old and well, very Irish. We Irish folk are very proud. Since we are getting in the stuff a little, why not be a little more honest, my dear cousin isn't actually my blood cousin. His biological mother and my mother were very good friends long before we were even a thought in any ones mind. So it goes a little something like this...
On October 8, 1975 a beautiful little girl named Michaela was born. That's me. :) Exactly one year later, a beautiful curly haired boy was born. That's Delaine. Anyway, he was my first birthday present and we were bound together from that point on.
He lived with his parents, Billy and Susie, both of which liked to have interesting and fun themed parties. When they did, we would come over and play while the adults "partied." Delaine had this bed that was a bunk bed, but it was shaped like a castle. The drawbridge was one bed and the top of the castle was the other. I loved it and wished I had one just like it. His first and favorite band at the age of eight was Heart. Yes, the girls rock band, Heart. Mine was Pat Benetar. We were two peas in a pod.
We continued to grow up, but never apart. By the time he was ten years old, his favorite band was Metallica. Yeah, this was the good Metallica - pre-BLACK. By the time he was twelve, his mother died of alcoholism; which she wouldn't control on her own. This obviously takes a big toll on a young boys life. She was on the streets and hard to locate on many occasions. His father had since divorced her and moved on.
Billy met Veronika around the time we were pre-teens. Veronika was from Germany and very beautiful. She loved Billy's love of music and love of a fun social life. They matched perfectly and are still together to this day. Thank God because what they needed to overcome together over the years would require a very strong relationship and strong shoulders to carry such large burdens.
Del managed to get in trouble as much as any kid of our kind did. Which was a lot. We hung out as much as we could over the years. He picked up the guitar and managed to play really well. I sang. We lived in different neighborhoods, but connected as often as possible. No matter where we lived, we managed to get in the same kind of trouble and have similar life experiences. We won't get into detail on those for fear that parents reading these might be afraid. We also fought with our parents and ran away from home from time to time, but always came back home in the end. This was the way our home lives worked. Not because of our parents, but because of who we were as young kids.
As we entered adulthood, Del was fortunate enough to travel and live in many different states in the US. I stayed in Denver and lived in many of the metropolitan cities. He would stop back in Denver from time to time and we would go to a local bar and sing karaoke (this would be me, not him), go to a party with our parents or even just have dinners with our parents. We just grew up like normal people. Or at least I thought we did.
We both stayed single until we were in our 30's. I managed to settle down with my now husband Jared, but Del didn't seem interested in settling down. He had moved to Florida for a job selling guitar music books. This seemed ideal to me for his personality and he loved it.
Before I got married, he started to call a bit more often and become a little bit more emotional in his calls. He was very sure to tell me he loved me in his calls and was very certain to stay in touch. He was coughing a lot and it didn't seem normal. Something was definitely wrong and it didn't take a genius to figure it out. He never mentioned anything except that the doctors thought he might have some mold growing in his lungs.
He came to Denver last year for my wedding. He was looking slightly thin, but was VERY happy and emotional about my decision to settle down. He was crying and hugging me a lot and we would sneak out for a quick smoke when no one was paying attention. It was the only chance I had to see him without having to be caught up in all the chaos a wedding can bring. Still, something was nagging at me that things were just not right. I knew something was wrong, but he didn't say anything.
Finally he got very ill at the end of the year and decided to come back to Denver. We were all relieved at his decision to come back since he had been laid off months before and his unemployment had run out. He also seemed to be getting sicker and sicker and would not stop smoking.
We would talk as often as possible. I am a part time graduate student and work full time, so my schedule is chaotic. Not that any of those things excuse the lack of communication, but it definitely hinders my ability to see most of my loved ones. We finally talked and set a day to connect and talk so I could ask questions about his illness.
When I arrived to pick him up, he warned me by phone about how thin he had become. The tumors (mold) had been taking the few things he did eat and by taking all the nutrients out of the food and growing out of control. He was not receiving much on his own. He was trying to build up his weight to a stable point so he could start chemotherapy to reduce the size of the tumors. And yes, still smoking.
He came around the corner and I swore I saw a skeleton. He was SO thin. I was very concerned immediately and knew that this was going downhill and very quickly. Time wasn't on our side. We went to a local restaurant called El Diablo and had a couple of drinks and talked a lot about his disease and how he contracted it. He was in another state and wasn't proud of his behavior, but he was not angry. He seemed totally content about how and why it happened and was just trying to be a person who was alive now. He talked about his ability to have dual citizenship in Ireland and about his mother, Susie. Which I have recently learned he doesn't talk about much. He kept smoking, of course, but not much. We were hanging out like we used to. Things didn't seem out of the ordinary, but something was telling me this would be the last time I would see him.
We decided to go to the bar where my brother Marcus works. Marcus came out and saw Delaine and chatted with us for a few minutes. Our day was coming to an end and quickly. I drove Del to hang out with his step mother for the evening and made him promise to call me when he started chemo. I never got that call.
The next call I got was from Billy two and half weeks later. I knew something was wrong. I knew it. I didn't answer because I was scared. I listened to the voice mail that followed on that Friday evening and it said that Del was very sick and in the hospital. I couldn't move. My soul mate was dying. I knew he was and I knew I should have called sooner and didn't.
It was later in the evening, so I didn't leave my house until Saturday. I went to the hospital the next morning to find my friend on life support with tubes coming out of his neck and arms, sleeping. He was in a coma that he agreed to go into in order to help with the trachea tubes. I sat and held his hand and talked to him. Told him I loved him and watched in disbelief as precious moments passed with the remaining moments of his life in them. His parents and the doctors had decided earlier that they were going to meet on Tuesday to discuss his fate.
The next day, I went back. He was still lying there the same, tubes, skinny, ill and in a coma. I cried and cried and as I looked up, he opened his eyes. I couldn't believe he opened his eyes. He was trying to focus on my face and recognize who I was. The nurse came in and began asking normal questions like "do you know what day it is?" and "do you know where you are?" He nodded and seemed to know what was going on. I thought he was OK. I had an exchange of words with the nurse and asked her to call his father. She did and everyone was so happy to see him awake. He was coming around and we were all happy to see him. As all of this was happening, the number of visitors was growing around us.
We hung around on Monday and Tuesday, but his vitals weren't getting better and the outlook wasn't good. He was still surviving on life support. His father needed to talk to him so he could decide what he wanted to do. On Monday night, they talked and Del said he was tired of fighting. They started slowly removing him from life support on Tuesday and then fully on Wednesday. He passed away one hour after they fully removed him.
Maybe I didn't focus enough on how many people Delaine was able to connect with in his life. Let me do that real quickly. Everywhere we went, he knew someone. Wait, let's dig a little deeper. You know that story where the little kid in school falls down and everyone makes fun of her when she is on the ground and then one kid comes along and helps that kid up? Del is the one who helps you up. The rules in the ICU at Denver Health Hospital are two people in the room at a time. Do you know how many people were in his room at any given time? Sometimes 20. People playing the guitar for him, big, burly, tattooed men you would never see crying were standing beside him sobbing with absolute disbelief that their friend was about to die. He knew EVERYONE. And I mean EVERYONE. And not just knew, he made you feel like you were the only person in the world. And if that wasn't enough, you were the only person in the world that mattered. He was special. He knew how to make everyone feel like they mattered. Because everyone does matter. No matter what we have all done, when we did it, who we did it to, we all matter. And he knew how to make that come alive.
So, now back to Billy. Wow, Billy. What on this earth did he do to deserve such heartache and pain in this life? He was always good to everyone, took care of everyone, loved his son like he was the only kid on the planet, what did he do to deserve this? Well, sadly, I have no good answer, my friends. He did nothing wrong. Nothing. Sometimes bad things happen to good people. Karma can't be true in this case, because he would be living a long, fruitful life with the people he loves if that were the case. He did nothing wrong!
So when he told me today as I dropped off the final slide show of photo's for Del's funeral tomorrow that he hadn't the heart to even go through Del's pockets to find another friends phone number to notify them in Florida, my heart stopped. When I call him (Billy) and hear his heart breaking over the phone, I have no answers to explain why such a horrific thing can happen to anyone. Why is it when all you do is love and try to help people that you get a pile of steaming shit back in return? Well, we just don't know. Things just happen. Yeah, shitty answer, right? I wish I had a better one for you! There isn't one. It breaks my heart that things ended this way for such wonderful people. I can't make sense of it. I can't put it together. I have nothing. There is no logical reasoning for it. To see other people go through this kind of pain is almost more painful than the situation itself. People don't deserve this. Life just happens. It's not fair, it's not equal.
However, the one thing I did learn in all of this horrific pain and sorrow? As I was working with my husband to put together this final tribute to Delaine in a slide show, the song choice Billy made was perfect. The photo's work chronologically and are done with the Beatles Golden Slumber, Carry That Weight and finally The End. It was one of the most emotionally challenging things I have ever had to do to put this thing together. And I am blessed to have been a part of this mans life. I am blessed to have known a person who should have been more angry but wasn't. I am blessed to have been someone HE was proud of. I am blessed to have known him. Period. He changed my life. He helped me realize through life and death how petty some things are and how important others things are. He made me realize how much I would always miss him and remember how important he was to me.
As John Lennon Says...
And in the end
The love you take
Is equal to the love you make.
On October 8, 1975 a beautiful little girl named Michaela was born. That's me. :) Exactly one year later, a beautiful curly haired boy was born. That's Delaine. Anyway, he was my first birthday present and we were bound together from that point on.
He lived with his parents, Billy and Susie, both of which liked to have interesting and fun themed parties. When they did, we would come over and play while the adults "partied." Delaine had this bed that was a bunk bed, but it was shaped like a castle. The drawbridge was one bed and the top of the castle was the other. I loved it and wished I had one just like it. His first and favorite band at the age of eight was Heart. Yes, the girls rock band, Heart. Mine was Pat Benetar. We were two peas in a pod.
We continued to grow up, but never apart. By the time he was ten years old, his favorite band was Metallica. Yeah, this was the good Metallica - pre-BLACK. By the time he was twelve, his mother died of alcoholism; which she wouldn't control on her own. This obviously takes a big toll on a young boys life. She was on the streets and hard to locate on many occasions. His father had since divorced her and moved on.
Billy met Veronika around the time we were pre-teens. Veronika was from Germany and very beautiful. She loved Billy's love of music and love of a fun social life. They matched perfectly and are still together to this day. Thank God because what they needed to overcome together over the years would require a very strong relationship and strong shoulders to carry such large burdens.
Del managed to get in trouble as much as any kid of our kind did. Which was a lot. We hung out as much as we could over the years. He picked up the guitar and managed to play really well. I sang. We lived in different neighborhoods, but connected as often as possible. No matter where we lived, we managed to get in the same kind of trouble and have similar life experiences. We won't get into detail on those for fear that parents reading these might be afraid. We also fought with our parents and ran away from home from time to time, but always came back home in the end. This was the way our home lives worked. Not because of our parents, but because of who we were as young kids.
As we entered adulthood, Del was fortunate enough to travel and live in many different states in the US. I stayed in Denver and lived in many of the metropolitan cities. He would stop back in Denver from time to time and we would go to a local bar and sing karaoke (this would be me, not him), go to a party with our parents or even just have dinners with our parents. We just grew up like normal people. Or at least I thought we did.
We both stayed single until we were in our 30's. I managed to settle down with my now husband Jared, but Del didn't seem interested in settling down. He had moved to Florida for a job selling guitar music books. This seemed ideal to me for his personality and he loved it.
Before I got married, he started to call a bit more often and become a little bit more emotional in his calls. He was very sure to tell me he loved me in his calls and was very certain to stay in touch. He was coughing a lot and it didn't seem normal. Something was definitely wrong and it didn't take a genius to figure it out. He never mentioned anything except that the doctors thought he might have some mold growing in his lungs.
He came to Denver last year for my wedding. He was looking slightly thin, but was VERY happy and emotional about my decision to settle down. He was crying and hugging me a lot and we would sneak out for a quick smoke when no one was paying attention. It was the only chance I had to see him without having to be caught up in all the chaos a wedding can bring. Still, something was nagging at me that things were just not right. I knew something was wrong, but he didn't say anything.
Finally he got very ill at the end of the year and decided to come back to Denver. We were all relieved at his decision to come back since he had been laid off months before and his unemployment had run out. He also seemed to be getting sicker and sicker and would not stop smoking.
We would talk as often as possible. I am a part time graduate student and work full time, so my schedule is chaotic. Not that any of those things excuse the lack of communication, but it definitely hinders my ability to see most of my loved ones. We finally talked and set a day to connect and talk so I could ask questions about his illness.
When I arrived to pick him up, he warned me by phone about how thin he had become. The tumors (mold) had been taking the few things he did eat and by taking all the nutrients out of the food and growing out of control. He was not receiving much on his own. He was trying to build up his weight to a stable point so he could start chemotherapy to reduce the size of the tumors. And yes, still smoking.
He came around the corner and I swore I saw a skeleton. He was SO thin. I was very concerned immediately and knew that this was going downhill and very quickly. Time wasn't on our side. We went to a local restaurant called El Diablo and had a couple of drinks and talked a lot about his disease and how he contracted it. He was in another state and wasn't proud of his behavior, but he was not angry. He seemed totally content about how and why it happened and was just trying to be a person who was alive now. He talked about his ability to have dual citizenship in Ireland and about his mother, Susie. Which I have recently learned he doesn't talk about much. He kept smoking, of course, but not much. We were hanging out like we used to. Things didn't seem out of the ordinary, but something was telling me this would be the last time I would see him.
We decided to go to the bar where my brother Marcus works. Marcus came out and saw Delaine and chatted with us for a few minutes. Our day was coming to an end and quickly. I drove Del to hang out with his step mother for the evening and made him promise to call me when he started chemo. I never got that call.
The next call I got was from Billy two and half weeks later. I knew something was wrong. I knew it. I didn't answer because I was scared. I listened to the voice mail that followed on that Friday evening and it said that Del was very sick and in the hospital. I couldn't move. My soul mate was dying. I knew he was and I knew I should have called sooner and didn't.
It was later in the evening, so I didn't leave my house until Saturday. I went to the hospital the next morning to find my friend on life support with tubes coming out of his neck and arms, sleeping. He was in a coma that he agreed to go into in order to help with the trachea tubes. I sat and held his hand and talked to him. Told him I loved him and watched in disbelief as precious moments passed with the remaining moments of his life in them. His parents and the doctors had decided earlier that they were going to meet on Tuesday to discuss his fate.
The next day, I went back. He was still lying there the same, tubes, skinny, ill and in a coma. I cried and cried and as I looked up, he opened his eyes. I couldn't believe he opened his eyes. He was trying to focus on my face and recognize who I was. The nurse came in and began asking normal questions like "do you know what day it is?" and "do you know where you are?" He nodded and seemed to know what was going on. I thought he was OK. I had an exchange of words with the nurse and asked her to call his father. She did and everyone was so happy to see him awake. He was coming around and we were all happy to see him. As all of this was happening, the number of visitors was growing around us.
We hung around on Monday and Tuesday, but his vitals weren't getting better and the outlook wasn't good. He was still surviving on life support. His father needed to talk to him so he could decide what he wanted to do. On Monday night, they talked and Del said he was tired of fighting. They started slowly removing him from life support on Tuesday and then fully on Wednesday. He passed away one hour after they fully removed him.
Maybe I didn't focus enough on how many people Delaine was able to connect with in his life. Let me do that real quickly. Everywhere we went, he knew someone. Wait, let's dig a little deeper. You know that story where the little kid in school falls down and everyone makes fun of her when she is on the ground and then one kid comes along and helps that kid up? Del is the one who helps you up. The rules in the ICU at Denver Health Hospital are two people in the room at a time. Do you know how many people were in his room at any given time? Sometimes 20. People playing the guitar for him, big, burly, tattooed men you would never see crying were standing beside him sobbing with absolute disbelief that their friend was about to die. He knew EVERYONE. And I mean EVERYONE. And not just knew, he made you feel like you were the only person in the world. And if that wasn't enough, you were the only person in the world that mattered. He was special. He knew how to make everyone feel like they mattered. Because everyone does matter. No matter what we have all done, when we did it, who we did it to, we all matter. And he knew how to make that come alive.
So, now back to Billy. Wow, Billy. What on this earth did he do to deserve such heartache and pain in this life? He was always good to everyone, took care of everyone, loved his son like he was the only kid on the planet, what did he do to deserve this? Well, sadly, I have no good answer, my friends. He did nothing wrong. Nothing. Sometimes bad things happen to good people. Karma can't be true in this case, because he would be living a long, fruitful life with the people he loves if that were the case. He did nothing wrong!
So when he told me today as I dropped off the final slide show of photo's for Del's funeral tomorrow that he hadn't the heart to even go through Del's pockets to find another friends phone number to notify them in Florida, my heart stopped. When I call him (Billy) and hear his heart breaking over the phone, I have no answers to explain why such a horrific thing can happen to anyone. Why is it when all you do is love and try to help people that you get a pile of steaming shit back in return? Well, we just don't know. Things just happen. Yeah, shitty answer, right? I wish I had a better one for you! There isn't one. It breaks my heart that things ended this way for such wonderful people. I can't make sense of it. I can't put it together. I have nothing. There is no logical reasoning for it. To see other people go through this kind of pain is almost more painful than the situation itself. People don't deserve this. Life just happens. It's not fair, it's not equal.
However, the one thing I did learn in all of this horrific pain and sorrow? As I was working with my husband to put together this final tribute to Delaine in a slide show, the song choice Billy made was perfect. The photo's work chronologically and are done with the Beatles Golden Slumber, Carry That Weight and finally The End. It was one of the most emotionally challenging things I have ever had to do to put this thing together. And I am blessed to have been a part of this mans life. I am blessed to have known a person who should have been more angry but wasn't. I am blessed to have been someone HE was proud of. I am blessed to have known him. Period. He changed my life. He helped me realize through life and death how petty some things are and how important others things are. He made me realize how much I would always miss him and remember how important he was to me.
As John Lennon Says...
And in the end
The love you take
Is equal to the love you make.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Day 1
Well, after a long two weeks of a very close friend and family members death, another bad boss experience and job failure, a successful end to another graduate class and a creation of a DVD for Delaine's funeral video, here I am. At the beginning of a blog. I can't believe it has taken me so many years to start an actual blog considering I talk like I write and I love to talk and write. So, here goes nothing...
Sometimes I wonder how the most of us can sit around and deal with the many struggles of life and difficult human beings. When we were younger, everything seemed so simple and easy. But as I have gotten older I have found conflict to be a regular part of my life. In addition to that, I have a ridiculously strong support system. The combination of both help me learn a lot.
The first thing is, conflict is inevitable. Whether it be with your family, your significant other, your boss, your friends, yourself, your computer, your dog or cat or whoever else you can think of. It never ends. Second, how you deal with that conflict is KEY to survival. Many of us like to crawl into a hole and stay there until the rest of the world disappears, but things just don't work that way. We have to learn to manage what we have. Fortunately, conflict is a positive thing and will help us grow. So, learning how to communicate effectively and in a way that doesn't make everyone around you want to murder you is important. I am still working on the latter. Third, having that ridiculously strong support system I just referred to? Yeah, that is critical. I know a lot of us aren't communicating, charming, beautiful, loving and outreaching individuals, but you are always able to connect with someone. I promise. Connections can always be made.
Sometimes I just like to watch people and see how they walk, talk, interact, and even handle any given situation. You can tell a lot about people simply by the way they behave. If you like the way people behave, start stalking them. I am kidding. Ask how they are doing. See if you have common interests. Do the craziest thing ever - SMILE. Don't be creepy though. We can all stare and act weird and that doesn't make anyone want to be your friend. I am sure EVERYONE has watched enough TV to see how to interact with people. If you haven't, where the hell have you been? You have to be on the Internet, right? Something? Help me out here...
Anyway, I guess I am just spewing about conflict because its the one thing I study constantly but never figure out. As a conflict practitioner and mediator, I am surrounded by conflict. WE ALL ARE. It goes with the job. So, just be aware that its OK to have conflict, just try not to run from it and try to manage it the best way you can. And before you know it, it will be over. Until the next one...
Sometimes I wonder how the most of us can sit around and deal with the many struggles of life and difficult human beings. When we were younger, everything seemed so simple and easy. But as I have gotten older I have found conflict to be a regular part of my life. In addition to that, I have a ridiculously strong support system. The combination of both help me learn a lot.
The first thing is, conflict is inevitable. Whether it be with your family, your significant other, your boss, your friends, yourself, your computer, your dog or cat or whoever else you can think of. It never ends. Second, how you deal with that conflict is KEY to survival. Many of us like to crawl into a hole and stay there until the rest of the world disappears, but things just don't work that way. We have to learn to manage what we have. Fortunately, conflict is a positive thing and will help us grow. So, learning how to communicate effectively and in a way that doesn't make everyone around you want to murder you is important. I am still working on the latter. Third, having that ridiculously strong support system I just referred to? Yeah, that is critical. I know a lot of us aren't communicating, charming, beautiful, loving and outreaching individuals, but you are always able to connect with someone. I promise. Connections can always be made.
Sometimes I just like to watch people and see how they walk, talk, interact, and even handle any given situation. You can tell a lot about people simply by the way they behave. If you like the way people behave, start stalking them. I am kidding. Ask how they are doing. See if you have common interests. Do the craziest thing ever - SMILE. Don't be creepy though. We can all stare and act weird and that doesn't make anyone want to be your friend. I am sure EVERYONE has watched enough TV to see how to interact with people. If you haven't, where the hell have you been? You have to be on the Internet, right? Something? Help me out here...
Anyway, I guess I am just spewing about conflict because its the one thing I study constantly but never figure out. As a conflict practitioner and mediator, I am surrounded by conflict. WE ALL ARE. It goes with the job. So, just be aware that its OK to have conflict, just try not to run from it and try to manage it the best way you can. And before you know it, it will be over. Until the next one...
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