Not a Word from Your Sponsors

Saturday night, you could see the following type of exchanges happening on facebook for those of us in Santa Rosa:

Does anyone know why [highway] 12 is closed?

I heard there was a big accident.

Yeah, a bad crash with 2 fatalities. (links to local paper's website)

Oh, man. That sucks.  end scene, go on with your night

Sunday morning, those of us at church arrived to find out that those "fatalities" were our friend, Sue Hufford, and her mother-in-law, Sharon. I'm not going to recap the whole thing here, but they were killed (hopefully) instantly when their stopped car was crushed by a truck going 60mph driven by a young man who was high and looking at his phone at the time. Her husband and father-in-law were taken to the hospital with injuries, but they lived.

I cannot claim to have been close to Sue, so my pain is only a fraction of the pain of her many students, mentees, closest friends, and family. But we liked each other a lot. We were co-leaders (called "sherpas" in our church youth group) of a group of 12-21 (depending on the week) high school girls about 4 years ago.

Our silly group, with Sue being the non-redheaded adult there on the left. We made our shirts, which say "HOLLA" big with (lujah) underneath. We thought they were REAL funny. Some of the girls are also making the Michael Nunan stinkface.

 

Sue was quiet, especially when you first met her. Her closest friends may have seen her differently, but I always thought she was quiet. It surprised me that she wanted to work with high school girls, and also that she was an elementary school teacher. I felt like she was such a real adult compared to me. She wasn't very silly that year, and I often thought she didn't like me. (We won't discuss the game involving plastic wrap and a furniture dolly which sent her to the hospital that first night of youth group.)

Over the years, Sue and I chatted from time to time about how she and her kids were doing, but it was really after I became a foster parent that I think we connected more. She was always happy to hear about what was going on in our new lives as parents. In this past year, I had a number of really nice but short times with her. I saw her smile more than I'd had call to in the past. At our women's Open Mic night last year, I would have been thrilled if she really had been the one who could cackle like the Wicked Witch of the West in the game of To Tell the Truth that she participated in, and she awed us all with her talent when she played a few songs on the violin. Why were we surprised that a music teacher was so talented?

We sat and talked at her youngest's graduation party, and ran into each other at The Human Race, where she was raising funds for her salary like a sort of missionary of elementary music. Just the week before she was killed, I got to sit with her twice at different events. I sat with her and Jay at the Eagle ceremony for a young man from church. Even though she was wearing an Eagle Scout shirt from when one of her sons had achieved it, we knew each other well enough that I could lean over and mutter, "This is SO not my thing!" and she just laughed and said, "Yeah, it's a bit over the top." When I showed up for the first practice for Easter choir, I was so happy to see that she was there. She sat by me and, again, I was impressed by her talent and was glad to know that I could sit by her each week and be sure I had the right notes since I'm not a good music reader. We weren't close, but she was my friend and I'm just so sad.

There has been a tremendous outpouring of support and love and even outrage expressed over how they were killed. So many people have shared the news stories, even people who never met her, because it was a tragedy that didn't need to happen. This is good. I suppose that's a way that her death won't have been completely pointless: if people will stop texting and driving and be more aware; if other lives can be saved. A lesson can be learned. I know. I know this is important, but it also hurts a little bit. Amid all the "sorry for your loss"es and "can't we put away our phones?" I just want to yell "DON'T YOU GET IT! THIS IS HORRIBLE. MORE HORRIBLE THAN THAT! SHE WAS OUR FRIEND AND NOW SHE'S DEAD! SHE'S MORE THAN YOUR PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT!" I'm afraid that her kids will heal hardened instead of tender. I'm afraid that I'll never see Jay smile and cracking a joke like he was every single time I ever saw him before this.


I know. I know. I'm being unreasonable. Maybe all humans are kinesthetic learners: we have to touch something and feel it before we can learn it. Our behavior isn't going to change until something is personal, and I hope that the degrees of separation between these deaths and you are few enough to do that for you. Personally, I have changed my phone behavior in the car, so I'm receiving the message, too. I can't make you cry for my friend, but I will accept that you have been affected by her story and will honor these deaths by changing your behavior and encouraging those around you to do the same. Let's do a better job of taking care of each other, okay?

A life of film

Today Roger Ebert died, and I was trying to figure out why it bummed me out so. I mean, I'm usually sad when anyone dies, but this felt a little different. Then I noticed that he's always reminded me of my Grandma Maki, even though they don't look alike or anything.

Aaaah. Movies. I always watched movies with my Grandma. She was very cool. She figured out how to set her VCR to tape things, and had me borrow tapes with movies she loved and knew I should watch. That's how I saw Educating Rita. My Grandma even appreciated Die Hard and Terminator 2-- that's how cool she was. She took my sister and I to see E.T. when it came out, and we each had little, leather E.T. dolls with us. She took me to see The Muppet Movie. On one awkward evening, we rented Children of a Lesser God from the library, thinking that it couldn't possibly contain anything worth being Rated R. I don't recommend watching sex scenes with your grandma.

One of the last times we went out together was to see A Beautiful Mind followed by Applebee's. I was tired and crabby and criticized the movie, even though she loved it. I hate remembering that day. On a funnier note, when I bought Monsoon Wedding, I had her borrow it because I thought she'd like it. She must have been having quite a confused day because she later reported that she threw it out because she couldn't understand anything and why had I brought her a porno?!

She always subscribed to People Magazine, so that's how I first read Entertainment Weekly, which is truly a big part of my life. She also introduced me to Ebert & Siskel and the whole world of movie reviews. Oh, she loved it. It was one of the shows she watched and I loved watching it with her. (Did you know that I wrote a couple film reviews in college? Matt and I dabbled with a rating system from -5 to +5, with 0 being "It was a movie.")

So I guess that by Ebert dying, I feel like another little part of my Grandma is gone. One less thing that I didn't even realize reminded me of her.

photo credit: Articulate MediaWorks via photopin cc

Don't I know you?

I've recently gotten back in touch with one of my cousins, and it's fantastic. Even though he's four years older than me, we were kind of close for a while there, mostly once he was in college and then when I was. The Hitchhiker's Guide was on my radar thanks to him, as well as a number of 80's bands that he and his brother would talk about in their furnished basement with a bar (fancy!).

When he went away to Michigan State, his mom took me with her to visit him at least once, if not more. She let me drive, which was very exciting, and I quickly learned that it's important to slow down when getting off the freeway, especially with a curved exit ramp. What else did I learn? That college life is really expensive, as he lived in a corner of a basement and paid a lot of money for it, that college students are disgusting (piles of garbage in the kitchen), and that the above parking garage was nicknamed the Human Habitrail. (I was certain that his genius mind had come up with that on his own.)

Once I was in college, we actually hung out from time to time, which was great. A few times, when my parents were out of town, he came to stay with me, even though I was quite able to stay by myself. I just didn't want to. Those times, we would hang out, I'd criticize his choice of girlfriend, and he even went out with me & my friends a few times.

He's smart, creative, hilarious, and I love him. But life, marriage, kids, family drama, and geography conspired against us, and we've gone many years at a time without talking at all and definitely not seeing each other. This time it was the impending death of our grandmother that put us in touch again. The day she died, I tried the work e-mail I had for him to let him and his mom know what was going on, since my mom couldn't get in touch with my aunt.

As we wrote back and forth, we both declared that it couldn't happen again; that we needed to stay in each other's lives. So we have continued. Three months have passed now, and we're still in touch. Sure, you could scoff, but I say that's pretty good. We're writing at least once per week, we've each shared writing with the other, and we're laughing and being honest. What makes me so happy is the pleasant surprise that he's still him. A few messages into our exchange, I was laughing and realized, "Oh, yeah! I totally love you! I forgot about that."

Plus, we have to stay in touch because I owe him a black eye from my first decade. There's a foil ball coming for you, cousin.



photo credit: Elizabeth/Table4Five via photopin cc

Lupin and Tonks!!

Here I sit, at 2:15am, finishing up The Deathly Hallows, crying my eyes out. 

This time around, I'm noticing different people.  Lupin and Tonks break my heart, and I do believe that Neville Longbottom is my new hero.  It's just all so real and terrible and wonderful.  J.K. Rowling is truly an amazing writer.  By this book, it is not at all a children's book, and young kids surely should stay away from the movies when they come out.

What's extra heart-breaking is how we've seen these characters on screen for almost 10 years, so it's as if we really know them.  With Daniel Radcliffe and Rupert Grint in my mind, I think back on Harry & Ron's first year and how little they were and just want to...I don't know.  It's almost as if they are really kids I know and in my care and I don't want them to go through all of this. 

Hopefully this braiding of fiction and reality will settle down again before November, or the movies are going to be very difficult to watch.  I'm definitely going into the last one with a box of kleenex, though. 

Um, spoiler alert?

Not sure that I have to warn people about a 3 year old book, but if you haven't read Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows and plan on it or plan on seeing the movies, you may want to skip this post.

Are they gone? 
As I told you before, the excitement of the preview being released finally got me to pick up the book and read it again.  I have previously only read it once, the day it came out, which was more devouring than reading.  Details did not stick to my brain parts.
I'm still pretty early on, just where all the pretend-Harrys are slowly showing up at the Weasley's house.  One thing I noticed is that the action starts with no holding back right from the beginning.  I had forgotten about Hedwig and what a blow that was and how I didn't believe it at first.  "Oh, she's fine." 
George has lost his ear and is making jokes with Fred, and I'm crying a little bit and wondering if I'll skip some pages later on in the book.  I love me some Weasley twins. 
I have a pretty busy weekend ahead of me, so I'm not certain that I will, well, should get much reading done.  If I do get a lot read in HP, it will be because I stayed up way past my bedtime or I didn't do as much homework as I'd like. 

Decisions, decisions.

2009- Man, am I glad it's over

I gotta tell ya, I don't feel like writing right now. (Gee! Thanks, Robin! I'm sure this will be GREAT!)  I know that I should write, though.  I can't believe I've only written once this month, when I know I have thoughts rolling around in my head.

Nutshell? I'm pretty depressed.  It's not like I'm crying and in the depths of despair, but more a conclusion I've come to or something I finally saw.  I have zero motivation to do anything other than play Bubble Town or be on FB & Twitter all day.  And I'm tired of it.

I don't like the way I live my life.  God & my husband don't allow me to not work so that I can get fatter and fatter and also get carpal tunnel.  I'm supposed to be doing things.  I'm supposed to take better care of my husband and house, I'm supposed to be volunteering more, I'm supposed to be reading and studying and hanging out with people I care about and exercising and playing real instruments, not just plastic ones.

Usually I'm not a big fan of shoulding on myself, but this is more than a guilt trip: it's a not quite rock bottom that I would like to be a turning point.  I'm clear about these things.

The year started oddly: my sister, who I probably love more than anyone in the world besides Seth, was in the hospital.  After about a month, I just couldn't stand it anymore and, after dropping my classes, went to Michigan to be with her.  I woke up one night just crying and freaking out because I couldn't stand the thought of her being alone in the hospital when my mom couldn't be there (and her husband was deployed).

The doctors were really being pessimistic and all but assuring her that her daughter would die, but we didn't believe them.  There are plenty of stories online about women in similar situations whose babies lived.  I, for one, expected Adi to be born premature and puny, but that she'd live.  Sure, complications were to be expected, but they'd be gotten past.  But she did die.

My sister had a horrible, terrifying c-section while my brother-in-law watched their daughter get yanked out of her, and then he watched her die after an hour.  My sister never saw her or held her alive.

The same day that my niece died, my friend's brother was accidentally shot and killed.  Let's cancel January 23rd from now on, okay?

I was in MI for a month, mourning and comforting as best I could, but I also had a good time with my friends and family.  A few days after my sister got out of the hospital, we went to Costco and my brother-in-law and I cracked up watching her try to run people down in the scooter/cart.  I got to see lots of my friends multiple times, I got drunker than ever before with one of my best friends and some guys from high school, I got together with some online friends, saw a Red Wings game, and got sick of winter.

After I was home for a few weeks, I went to stay with my sister for 2 weeks in North Carolina.  We had a great time, and we also got to visit our cousin and her family in Richmond, which was fabulous.

A lot of the year was good: I went to CHIC with the youth group, Seth and I had a great 10th anniversary vacation in the NW, and I had a fabulous class this fall.

This was also an expensive year, and my car currently sits dead in the driveway.  All told, I was out of my bed & away from home for almost 4 months this year.

I've been worried a lot this year.  About my sister, brother-in-law, parents, another sister who has been depressed and confused, the messed-up sister who lost both her kids but is pregnant with a third, about everything that could be worried about for my husband, about money, the marriages of multiple friends-- you name it.  I know I don't need to worry, and I sometimes do a good job of casting stuff on God.  But not enough, apparently. 

I stopped working with two ministries and added another one, which is still finding its rhythm.

I didn't really like our Christmas.

I want a house.

I want a best friend in California.

I've stayed on medicine, which I want to double, but I don't want to do that arbitrarily.  I can't ask my doctor do up my prescription, because I still haven't seen anyone about my depression.  I didn't think I needed to before, but maybe I do.  Maybe if I talked to someone about my stupid lack of motivation and what appears to be self-sabotage, I'd get somewhere.  I know that Jesus is helping me and I don't have to do all this on my own.

I'm just tired.  And I'm excited about this year being over.  I know it has been weird, and I want it to go.  I want to start over- start fresh.  Though some may call that naïve, I know that I can start fresh. I can start over right now, if I wanted to.  I've been trying for about 2 weeks now to change; to think in a new way.

I just keep sitting back down.

Still not a fan

Hooray! More death to talk about!

I found out today that a girl from high school (one year ahead of me) died from breast cancer. She leaves her 5 children behind.

I don't know her anymore, but I used to. I knew her when she was young, and that's all I can picture. And now she's gone. I can see her senior picture in my mind, and I just want to cry my eyes out. She was one of the popular girls, but was always very kind, too. Smart, pretty, etc. I'm just so sad and find it hard to wrap my mind around it.

I also hear rumors of a skewed vision of faith and lack of trust in reality. I don't know if they're true, but I still pray for the hearts of her family and friends. I want them to be comforted in this crappy time that makes little sense. I don't want people who don't know Jesus to think that any time a Christian hoping for healing dies, that means God isn't there or doesn't listen.

Faith doesn't mean we always get what we want. True faith trusts that God knows what is happening and that he can use anything to his glory. Crap will happen. I seldom get it. But I know that God is real and I experience him, which outweighs my questions and doubts. I won't always get things that God allows, but I know that I certainly don't have a handle on what is best and I don't want to make God in my image of what he should and shouldn't be.