pop goes the weasel and the weasel goes pop

Boys come and boys go.  I have always dealt with heartbreak with bravado, picking myself up and moving on like an Olympic champion.  The constants in my life have always been my family, my son, Luke and more recently Alex.  I know that I always have my sisters, no matter what, they are always there along with my parents.  They have redefined unconditional support with an intensity that goes unchallenged.  I don't have a lot of memorable heartbreak, just one.  The worst heartbreak I ever experienced was standing in the corner of a hospital room watching my grandmother say goodbye to my father before he passed away.  Her eyes bared an unbelievable sadness that mirrored what my heart couldn't put into words.

My father was a people person.  He gathered everyone, he fed everyone, he wined and dined....and had an insurmountable love for his four daughters that went on for his lifetime after each of us was born, despite his concern for the sons he really hoped for.  He loved taking us out on his boat on hot summer days with coolers full of food and drink, sunscreen, and so much enthusiasm for the things he loved in life.

He knew that his days were numbered and ran from it.  Coming to terms with his vices was not an easy task, but he eventually did when he had a series of heart attacks in February of 2009.  He was given a new lease on life when he was placed on the liver transplant list.  A list that he thought he would never qualify for with his past lifestyle, but he did it and deserved it.  His hospital stays became more frequent as he fought bouts of lucidity towards the end stages of liver disease.  He kept bouncing back and it was hard for us to differentiate between a serious hospital stay or a pre-bouncing back of a temporary setback.

He would be gone one sec and you'd be sitting by his bedside holding his hand and he'd wake up and say "hey baby!", and be himself again.  Such relief.  It would be our jobs to clean him up and get him on track.  We would look for things to help brighten him up and give him something to look forward to.  I remember one time going into his hospital room and finding him unshaven.  I loved helping him clean up and shaving him because Danielle was on her way and he wanted to look good for her visit. Maybe I knew I had to soak up what I could, while I could.

When it came time for him to go to Strong Memorial in Rochestor, NY for a critical moment in his life, his place on the list was very near the top and his health was declining quickly, my sisters and I rushed to his side.    His side, where we stayed for days, around the clock.  We put all of our will power and faith into the fact that his eyes would open, he would say "hey baby!" just a few more times before the moment of reckoning came, but it never did happen.  He was number one on the list and his kidneys were failing and it got to the point where they were not going to ever function fully again.  We were forced with the fact that we would have to take him off of life support and give up.  We just weren't the type to ever give up on anything, especially him.

We got to spend time with him, intimately, holding his hand, praying...praying...and the doctors and nurses walked by his room looking in on us sympathetically, because they knew what we didn't want to accept.  We made the decision everyone was waiting for us to make and took him off of life support.  He left us peacefully.  It was the biggest heartbreak and almost too much to bare.  We said goodbye and let him go.

a loft on the hill

In 1994 we moved to Boulder, Colorado.  Simply stated, it was one of the best experiences of my life.  It was a hard decision to leave the place where I grew up, but I am so glad I did.  My mother had visited prior and had an apartment rented and ready for us when we got there.  The trip across country itself was a story.  A story for another time.

After arriving in Boulder after a very, very, long drive, it was very apparent that we were no longer in Kansas (or New York...whatever).  The atmosphere was different, the people were different, even the grass was different.  The weather was unbelievably beautiful, it was a daily postcard.  I was in a place of meditation, that is what happens when you strip away the familiar everyday life, childhood friends, and any stigma from a small town girl. I didn't have high school to secure me a social circle, but that was ok, I never had a problem in this department and welcomed the opportunity to create my life from scratch.

It was my mother, her boyfriend Steve, my sister Jaime, and myself.  Steve...I should discuss Steve's very short lived relocation briefly.  We had been in Boulder for approximately three days at the time.  We went to Safeway to get some groceries and Steve had ants in his pants.  For some reason he was really antsy to hurry up and get our groceries and back to our apartment.  We were women not to be rushed.  In a huff, Steve decides to leave Safeway half way through our grocery trip when he realized we were not going to give in to his crabby patty attitude.  When we got home an hour later, Steve wasn't there and neither was the moving truck.  If you're thinking what I think you're thinking...you're right.  Steve went home.  I mean home home, back to New York.  Never saw the guy again.  I loved my mom's reaction to the situation, a good laugh and a  shrug of the shoulders.  Ah well.  Guess I wasn't the only one ready for a new life.

I got a job waitressing during the graveyard shift at Denny's and made some pretty good money.  Denny's was a place that attracted many interesting personalities, it was good money and good life experience.  A year into our life in Boulder, Colorado, an opportunity to room with a fellow co-worker presented itself and I took it.  Another co-worker owned a condo and he was planning a backpacking trip through South Africa for a year and offered his place for a ridiculously good price while he was gone.

A few months after being on my own, my bestie from high school, Mandy, moved to Boulder to live with me. Mandy also got a job at Denny's and we worked, lived, slept, and breathed together...in unison.  The best time of my life.  I loved our walks home at 6am from work, watching the sun come up, not really knowing if I was getting enough sleep, my sleep schedule was screwed at that point.

One afternoon, Mandy and I were sitting on our balcony breathing in the fresh Rocky Mountain air, when a third person walked out on the balcony.  Uri was home (this was Uri's condo)...6 months early!  I was so worried that Uri was going to be mad that a third person had taken residence at his house, he wasn't.  I was then worried that he would cut our stay short...he didn't.  I think he really liked having us around and for awhile it was kosher.  But, Mandy and I decided that we needed to get a place of our own when another friend of ours from high school decided to move in with us.  Shannon.  Shannon moved to Boulder and it was the three of us in my tiny room at Uri's condo.  Shannon got her obligatory job at Denny's working the graveyard shift (apparently this is a Boulder initiation ritual), and the three of us started saving every penny...literally.  We saved every dollar, rolled every coin, and got enough money together to find a decent place.  We put down the first, last, and deposit on a beautiful loft on the hill.  It was a one bedroom plus loft with a cute kitchen in the middle of all the excitement of Boulder.  We were one block from the Fox Theatre, three blocks from Pearl Street.  We couldn't have had it any better.  We spent a year or so at our loft before Shannon decided to go back to New York, followed by Mandy, and eventually myself, except I went to Boston, MA.  Many, many good times were had in Boulder, Colorado.  I didn't go back to visit for ten years, as soon as the plane touched down for my return, I instantly started mourning the time when I would have to leave.  Boulder is magic.  If you have a chance to go there in your life, you should, you would never regret it.