Cleaning Out the Closet

I mean this literally and figuratively.

Yesterday my mom went to my aunt's house to clean out her closet. It has almost been one year since she passed away and it is something that needed to be done. My 89 year old grandmother probably was not the best candidate to take on this tedious and emotional task. One cousin lives in Florida and the other admitted to my mom that there was no way he could face this alone. So my mom and my sister faced it together.

I wasn't sure how my mom was going to react to going through her sister's closet - bagging up her clothes to donate. There were things in there that my mom bought for my aunt when she was too tired to shop for herself, but needed new clothes to fit her new and much smaller frame. Clothes that still had tags on them because the time between the good news ("Hey, you're cured!") and the bad news ("There's nothing more we can do for you") was so short. With my sister helping, my mom seemed to do OK, although I know it was not easy.

All of this got me thinking about how after a loved one dies, there is this strange ritual of giving away that person's belongings. My grandmother was insistent about giving me and my sister some of my aunt's things - almost as soon as she had been buried. I know that some of this stems from not wanting those things in the house as reminders and some of it is because my grandmother cannot stand to see anything go to waste, but this was bordering on the obsessive. So, in the 9 months since my aunt died, I have amassed the following items:

1) My aunt's Cuisinart food processor. Both of her children are boys (sorry, make that men). Neither are married and neither of them cooks. Both my mom and sister have food processors, so my grandma insisted I take this. I admit that this is a wonderful "gift" as I do not own a food processor, nor can I afford one. I have yet to use it - it remains in its Macy's bag on my kitchen floor. We have moved it from room to room, hoping to find a good place for it.

2) A pair of pants that my aunt never wore. These pants fall into that category of purchased by my mom and never returned to the store as things went downhill so quickly. I haven't seen them, but I know that I will keep them.

3) A blue scarf that I crocheted for my aunt when she returned home after her initial hospital stay and stint at physical rehab. I didn't know what else to do for her, so I made her this scarf. She had been in the hospital for almost 8 weeks recovering from two major back surgeries, chemo, and a bout of pneumonia. The weather was getting colder and I thought this would be a nice gift. This was the only thing I asked my mom to take with her. It wasn't because I didn't want it to sit in her closet since she was no longer around to wear it, but because I so distinctly remember giving it to her that day after Thanksgiving. I was so scared to see her. So scared that I wouldn't know what to say. So scared that I would cry. She made me feel OK and we laughed and she wrapped the scarf around her neck and thanked me and called me "Babe" - how I loved when she did that.

4) My aunt's white winter coat she purchased at The Gap. When she first got the "all clear" from the doctors, she and my mom went out shopping. She got this coat at the end of the season sale, and as it was the middle of March, she only wore it a few times. My grandmother specifically wanted me to have this coat. It is a beautiful and warm coat, but I have not worn it. Even on those below zero days and nights, I refused to wear it. I tried to wear it once, but as I put it on I realized that it smelled like my aunt. I started to cry and I buried it in the back of our coat closet. Sometimes, when I am home alone, I will pull out the coat and check to see if it still smells like her. I'm afraid to wear it - afraid that it will lose its smell.

April 1st marks the 1-year anniversary of when we got the news that her cancer returned. I was laying in bed when my mom called me - I was shocked. I kept repeating "What?" over and over. It was the only thing I could think to say. I got up and ran on the treadmill because I needed to get some of that energy and anxiety out of my system. I ran until my lungs burned and I could no longer stand the thump-thump-thump sound my feet made as they hit the surface of the treadmill. My husband came downstairs and told me to stop running. As I got off the treadmill he tried to hug me, but I told him that if I stopped moving, if I stopped thinking for one second, I would go crazy.

I kept thinking of all the horrible things that might happen now that the cancer was back. At one point I stopped myself. I told myself that there was no way that this "thing" was going to get her. Cancer was not going to take her down.

But it did. In the end, that's exactly what happened.

Although I go on with my daily life - work, family, grocery shopping, paying bills - deep down I don't think I have really dealt with this loss. I know I haven't dealt with it. I don't know how, don't know where to start.

When things like this get to me, I write. I always have. Maybe as the anniversary approaches, I will have to write more. Maybe I finally will be able to "clean out my closet".

Making Progress

This story makes me very happy for a number of reasons:

1) Women are making progress in the world of professional male sports. It boggles my mind why this has to be such a big story - when will it be the norm to see women working as umpires/referees in sports? I'm talking professional sports - MLB, NBA, NFL, etc. Even though she will be working an exhibition game, I'm still damn proud to be a woman.

2) I'm impressed with the comments made by both Derrek Lee (one of my favorites) and Scott Eyre. I know that they would have been huge jerks had they made any disparaging remarks, but that hasn't stopped some athletes. I believed what they said about the situation and I hope the others feel the same.

3) Finally, I'm so excited that she will be working the Cubs/Diamondbacks game! Go Cubbies...

I've Got a Secret...

We all have them, right? Things we have harbored inside us for weeks, months, and even years. Things we've thought about telling someone, but stop ourselves at the last second out of fear - fear of embarrassment, fear of rejection, fear of making it true once we actually verbalize it.

I have secrets that I know I will never share with another soul.

I found this web site a few days ago (I'm sure many others have already seen it) - it's called PostSecret, and ever since seeing it, I've become obsessed. According to the web site, it's "an ongoing community art project where people mail in their secrets anonymously on one side of a homemade postcard". How great is that? How absolutely liberating to anonymously tell the world your deepest, darkest secrets?

I can recall times in my life when I've shared secrets with people only to have them shared with a bunch of other people. The first time comes to mind when I was 6 years old (in fact it was at my 6th birthday party) and I told my sister my biggest secret. I was so excited to share it with someone and what did she do? As I was just about to blow out the candles on my cake, someone told me to make a good wish. That's when my sister decided to share my secret with my whole family. She blurted out, "I know what she's wishing for! She wishes that she could marry Donny Osmond!" Aaaargh!!! I'd been outed by my own sister! Ironically, someone snapped a picture of me right after she said this - I was sitting in front of my cake absolutely pouting. I know I have that picture around here somewhere...

My point in telling that story is that this project gives us an opportunity to release from our souls those secrets we know we can never share with another person. We can get rid of that burden on our own terms and never have to worry that someone will think differently of us, or reject us, or think we're weird.

I've already started my secrets list - some kind of humorous, some quite shameful.

Drool-Worthiness

Last week, a good friend and I got into an e-mail discussion about celebrities that we find attractive - about how some people are good-looking while others are what he called "drool-worthy." He further broke this down into two categories: 1) People we're attracted to purely for his/her looks and 2) People who are attractive, but their personality elevates their looks.

I love these kinds of discussions! I love hearing who other people find attractive and I love critiquing their choices. I know that I can have a quirky definition of "attractive" (as a teenager, I had a major crush on John Malkovich after seeing him in Dangerous Liaisons), so I was very open to receiving critiques from my friend. Of course, there were a few people on my "just looks" list that I was a bit embarrassed to admit. So, here it goes:

Just Looks

- Ryan Phillppe (he kind of seems like a jerk)

- Kyle Farnsworth (used to be a Chicago Cub and was well known for his drinking and fighting)

- Justin Timberlake (I guess he could fit into the other category because he's quite funny)

- Matthew Fox (Lost)

- Wentworth Miller (Prison Break)

- This is horribly embarrassing, but I find Johnny Knoxville (of Jackass fame) to be really hot! But seriously, how do you not drool over this face?

Looks and Personality

- Eric Szmanda ("Greg" from CSI - my #1 celebrity crush!):

- James Blake (great tennis player and went to Harvard)

- Dr. Sanjay Gupta (love him on CNN!)

- Terrance Howard (Hustle & Flow)

- Vincent D'Onofrio (Law & Order)

Feel free to share your drool-worthy celebrity crushes - no matter how embarrassing...

Another Day, Another Migraine

I woke up with a mother of a migraine at 4:30 AM. You think I'd learn my lesson and just get my ass out of bed and take my medication. But it was dark and the bed was warm and I just wanted to pretend it wasn't happening. So I stayed in bed - eyes wide open, pressure building in my head and around my eyes, hoping that maybe it was just a bad dream. I finally fell asleep and awoke to my alarm at 6 AM. It wasn't a bad dream.

I took some painkillers and went to work. It only got worse. The pain wasn't increasing that much, but the constant pain was nauseating. I never used to get that nauseated when I first got migraines years ago. Back then my doctor even prescribed me Compazine, but I never really needed it. How I could have used that today.

I thought I'd come home around noon and finish my work, but I suddenly remembered that I had a project to finish before tomorrow's 8 AM Board Meeting. I thought it would be quick, but I ended up working on it for over 2 hours. Now that it is almost 5 PM, I don't think I should try to take a nap. The pain is a bit better (after a couple of more pills), but I'm at that point that if I put my head down on a pillow, I will not wake up until midnight. Then I'll be disoriented and hungry and really, really cranky (just ask Patrick). So, I should probably just try to stay awake until 9 PM or so and then just go to bed.

Sometimes I feel like I shouldn't complain about my migraines because there are so many worse problems and illnesses out there. But I've had them for 9 years. I used to just get 2-3 migraines a month, but over the years they increased to 10-12 per month. Hundreds and hundreds of debilitating migraines for 9 years. The problem with these headaches versus "regular" tension headaches is that they hurt a hell of a lot more, there are other symptoms (nausea, sensitivity to light, sound, smell), they can last from 4-72 hours, and they suck the life right out of you. That's just the day(s) you have the headaches - there's also what I like to refer to as the "migraine hangover." I liken this to what it must feel like to have been dragged behind a semi for a few hundred miles. Sore and tired muscles, a strange tingling almost pain-like sensation in your head (which of course makes me paranoid that it's the start of another migraine), extreme fatigue, and gloomy, almost depressed emotions. This is what I have to look forward to tomorrow.

The other depressing thing is that my neurologist told me that menopause should make my headaches disappear - great, I'm only 34. A couple of years ago I asked him what would happen to me if I ever got pregnant (as I have "menstrual migraines" that occur due to the drop of estrogen - yes, I brought them on myself as a result of starting bc pills 9 years ago). There is no guarantee - they could improve, stay the same, or get worse. I told him that if the only medication I could take for a migraine while pregnant was Tylenol, than I would never have children. I couldn't do it. I've been in the situation before where no medication was helping - not 6 narcotic painkillers, plus Excedrin, plus prescription migraines meds, plus IV painkillers. There have been times I've wanted to bash my head against the wall, times when I would have gladly paid someone to take a swing at my head with a baseball bat. I've shoved the corner of the remote control into the inside corner along my brow bone so hard and for so long that I've bruised myself. I've cried out of frustration, exhaustion, and depression knowing that this wouldn't be my last migraine. I've cried alone. I've cried, curled in a ball, in the emergency room while I waited for the doctor to see me and while I waited for the medicine to kick in. I've lost days to these headaches. I've lost moments in my life that I will never get back.

I have another pill with my name on it and I've got more work to finish. I pray that I don't get another migraine tomorrow. I just can't do this again.