Gratitude

Fourteen years ago today, the world was forever changed by the attack on the twin towers of the World Trade Center. So many innocent men and women lost their lives, both those who went to work that day and those responded to the crisis. I will always have the utmost respect for those brave individuals.

On this September 11, I am again grateful. Yesterday my aunt and uncle were evacuated from their home on Pine Bark Drive off Jesus Maria Road in Calaveras County. Today, we heard they have likely lost their home.

It could have been much worse. They hadn’t planned on leaving.

Usually, the cooler weather at night abates the flames. And their home was on the downhill side of the fire, which usually makes for slower progression. The thought they could safely wait out the night.

An official came to the door and told them they had 30 minutes to get their things and flee. Annie was able to rescue her two cats, irreplaceable family photo albums, and an Indian rug from Arizona. She left all the lights on and the doors unlocked as they drove away. In the distance, the sound of propane tanks exploding sounded like bombs. As they passed the fire station, Annie noticed they too were packing up and pulling out.

While losses won’t be confirmed until the Damage Assessment teams can safely begin evaluations of damaged and destroyed structures, it’s not looking good. CalFire is updating maps of the affected zones and a significant area around their home appears to have been engulfed. The insurance company has already contacted her and is sending an initial compensation payment.

Mom and I performed our own reconnaissance, independently we both attempted to call their home phone which rang and rang and rang before disconnecting.

I can’t help thinking that if the fire safety personnel hadn’t gone door-to-door, Carina and I might have gotten a very different update from mom today. There are families who won’t be as lucky as ours. One of Anne and John’s good friends decided not to evacuate and his fate is unknown.

Tonight, I am overcome with gratitude for the many firefighters, police, and military service people who put their lives on the line against the many threats we face. It is because of them that so many of us can live our lives, safely going to work, the grocery store, and even to bed at night. I cannot help feeling incredibly thankful that Anne and John are safe in Modesto. They will hug their grandchildren, snuggle their kitties, and see the sunrise tomorrow.

Game of Thrones: The Red Wedding

Now I think I've made it pretty clear by now that I'm a big A Game of Thrones (AGoT) fan, more aptly put: I am a Song of Ice and Fire fan because that's actually the true name of the book series.

Anyway, I actually started reading the books after buying the first season of the Game of Thrones HBO TV series.  Midway through the DVDs I was tweeting about my love and obsession with the show (I watched the entire first season over one weekend) and several friends recommended I read the books.  I tend to be a big fan of both the fantasy and medieval genres.

Anyway, Sam got into the series too, although he doesn't have time to slog through the incredibly lengthy novels that George R. R. Martin puts together.  So watching the latest episode has become our Sunday night tradition.  This third season has been a relatively slow season for me - I keep waiting for the plot to move ahead so that we can get into some of the stuff from the more recent novels.

Last night, we didn't watch episode 9 because Sam was on call at the hospital and I wait for him to watch the new episodes since I pretty much know what's going to happen anyway.  Well, let me tell you, we watched the shit out of the episode tonight and it's just so tough to swallow all that went on in the last 10 minutes.

Honestly, as someone who knew it was coming, I have been dreading this episode since I first read A Storm of Swords and knew that Rob Stark was doomed.  Honestly, I hoped that with all the jumping around and minor changes to the plot that perhaps his dear baby would escape unscathed.  Unfortunately I was wrong.

And the scene was so graphic, so terribly graphic, that it was almost worse watching it than reading it.  Catelyn Stark's final few moments are just so horribly gut wrenching and heartbreaking as you see her completely give up as she stands there with Rob at her feet.

Sam was completely shocked at the turn of events.  His jaw dropped and his hands flew to his face where they stayed until the credits started rolling.  I was heartbroken for him almost as much as I was heartbroken myself.  I try not to spoil the big plot lines for him, so I kept my mouth shut about The Red Wedding.

The outpouring of fan emotions has been huge following this episode and it's funny because I never thought to argue with George R. R. Martin on his plot development.  Read this article from the LA Times to see just how upset some fans are.  I, personally, found this article on The Onion to be more appealing.  Yes, it's sad these characters died and I am grieving for their losses, but I believe that we all knew that no one is safe as soon as Ned got the axe in season one.

Furthermore, if you think Daenerys Targaryn has any chance of coming back to Westeros and claiming her throne you have to realize that it's unlikely the Starks will rule a sovereign Northern territory for long.  Before you all run out and cancel your HBO subscriptions, let me assure you that the series goes on just fine without Rob Stark.  And this may not be the end of Catelyn... so stick with it and see where George R. R. Martin is taking us!

That said, I read a quote today that said something along these lines:

"This story isn't going to end in such a way that all the characters are happy.  And it's probably not going to end in the way the readers want it to."

Yes, that's probably very true.  But like I said before, we all agreed to play George R. R. Martin's sick game where none of the main characters are safe when we kept watching after season 1.

Love for Boston

This morning I was thinking good thoughts for my fitness mentor, personal trainer and (above all else) friend, Amanda, as she competed in the Boston Marathon.  I was so proud of her for overcoming the health obstacles she has faced during her training and was so impressed she had made the qualifying time.  Little did I know that a few short hours later I would be hearing harrowing reports of explosions near the finish line and wonder if she was one of the victims.

I am lucky to count the number of times I have really been worried about a friend's life on one hand.  Today, as I heard reports about the injured runners and spectators, I immediately thought of Amanda and her family.  I pulled up Facebook to check if she'd posted anything since the explosions and was preparing to send her a text message to check in on her when I saw on my newsfeed that she and her family were safe and sound and away from the danger zone.  Relief.  Completely and total relief.

I posted on my Facebook tonight: "I am so thankful that my Boston marathoner is safe, and my heart goes out the families and friends who weren't so lucky today."

After getting home this evening, I began pouring over the articles, images and video from the scene.  Nothing was more horrific than the video and images of the young man who had both legs blown off below the knee- his left tibia was exposed several inches where the flesh had completely been taken off before abruptly ending.  To say the scene was gruesome would not do it justice.

The thought that an 8-year old boy lost his life sickens me.  That child had his entire life ahead of him and thanks to the sociopath(s) behind this terrorism his bright future has been snuffed out.  How unbelievably tragic.  Just heart-wrenching.

Then there is this... the complete lack of humanity from the Westboro Baptist Church whose parish is threatening to boycott the funerals of the victims because they believe the bombings are directly related to Massachusetts's gay marriage laws.  WTF Westboro?  What is wrong with you!?  I believe in a forgiving God, a compassionate God, a God that would NOT kill an 8-year old boy because of gay-marriage laws.  It makes me sick.

And as I sat here venting to Sam about the horror that happened today, he looked at me and said, "Things like this happen all the time."  I was outraged.  I was offended.  And then I realized he speaks the truth.  Everyday Sam sees patients who have experienced tragedy- often at the fault of someone else.  Victims of car accidents, fireworks, stupid horseplay, etc. who watch their entire life change in an instant.  And many of those people are no different than the Boston marathoners; just going about their lives and then BAM- nothing will ever be the same.  Talk about putting things into perspective.  Right?  Makes my problems seem so insignificant!

So tonight, I am thankful for the health and safety of my loved ones in Boston and around the world.  I am thankful for the people who tended to the wounded and who sought to clear the area of other potentially harmful devices.  The ray of hope we experience in crisis is the humanity we see in the 'helpers'.

RIP Francois Georges

Mom just texted Carina and I to tell us that she got the call last night that Francois had passed away.

Francois is the father of the children my Mom au paired for in France after high school.  He was one of my grandfather's close friends and coworkers on a few Chevron projects.  They were like family to my mom and her parents, and my mother and his children and (now ex) wife have remained very close over the years.

Francois was diagnosed with lung cancer a while back, and last year around this time he came to dinner at my parents' house to see their new kitchen remodel.  At the time, Mom and Dad noted how much slower he seemed and how it was their suspicion that the cancer had spread into his brain.

In December, Francois's son, Vincent, invited my parents to have lunch in near his home in Napa.  When they arrived, Francois and his daughter Alexandra surprised my parents.  My parents were shocked at how drastically his health had declined.  If I remember correctly, I think Dad said that Francois's native French came much more easily to him that English and that Mom spoke mostly in French with Vincent and Alexandra while Dad and Francois's wife, Olga.

Mom said a friend of Olga's called last night while she was doing laundry and told her that she was going down the list of names of people Francois had requested be notified upon his death.

After Mom texted Carina and I, I called her back.  She was crying, which broke my heart, and she told me how sad she was that she'd never see him again.  I have to agree, the finality of death is so incomprehensible.

As Carina and I tried to console Mom via text messaging this evening it reminded me of when Papa died, and how even in death he has continued giving me opportunities of a lifetime.  Sam and my trip to Southeast Asia was funded by Papa's generous inheritance as was the car I bought myself last December and the puppy laying asleep in my lap as I am typing.

The emptiness and sadness I sometimes feel is uncomfortable yes, but if it's the price I pay for the wonderful, unforgettable years I was able to enjoy the company of my grandparents I am so thankful for the sadness.

Rest in Peace, Francois.  You lived a colorful life, and tonight I will have a glass of wine in your honor.

Stumbled Upon This Online Today

A love story that spans decades is made poignant in this short video. In the late 1970s, Marina Abramović and Ulay fell in love and created art together. As they ended their relationship, they created art in that too. With Marina walking from the Yellow Sea and Ulay from the Gobi Desert, they each walked over 1000 miles to meet on the Great Wall of China. They hugged for a final time and left each other. 

"At her 2010 MoMa retrospective Marina performed ‘The Artist Is Present’ as part of the show, where she shared a minute of silence with each stranger who sat in front of her. Ulay arrived without her knowing and this is what happened." (via zen garage)

 

 

 

Supposedly, the actual purpose of their walk towards each other was to celebrate their eternal love, but through the months that it took them to reach the Great Wall, our friend Ulay had managed to impregnate one of the ladies travelling with him. So Ulay and Marina met at the Great Wall and of course the Great Truth was revealed to Marina, who said, with ladylike practicality, that since they have reached their target destination they should tweak the purpose and celebrate their split instead of their union. Hence, this piece of art is called 'Moving On'.

 

 

(Is it morbid that I hope the dramatic version is true?)

Perspective

Yesterday I got a text from my mom that a high school classmate of mine had lost both of her parents over the weekend as the result of a tragic plane crash.  Sitting at my desk, my stomach bottomed out.  They had been flying a small plane from San Francisco to their vacation home in Colorado and went missing on Saturday night.

I cannot imagine the horror of not knowing that night and the following morning.  I can only pray that I will never have to go through something like this. 

The Facebook posts ranged from several sentences to a single word.  All of them touched on the subject but most were respectful of the bereaved and did not go into detail with names until the below thread.  A girl I have known since middle school posted one word: Perspective.  Yes, Ashley, perspective.  A little too much perspective, I would argue. 

Today, I woke up thankful to be alive.  Appreciative that I still have two loving parents alive and well.  I am grateful for my friends. 

My heart goes out to Kathleen and her whole family.