Missing Diamonds

Yesterday, I stayed home from work with a terrible migraine. This was one of the worst I have had in a long while. I didn't even manage to make a productive staying home day of it, and only accomplished one of my laundry list of to-do items. 

On Sunday when I made my meals for the week, I considered taking off my rings and leaving them safely in my bedroom the way Margaux does when she cooks. I ended up deciding not to, because I didn't want to risk losing one of them or having them stolen if I forgot to put them back on. 

Unfortunately, at some point during the fried rice, moo shu turkey and red curry, one of the bigger side diamonds next to my center stone fell out of my band. Major bummer. 

I was able to call the jeweler yesterday, who said he would fix it right up for me, and I dragged myself to the post office to ship it off. Unfortunately, I couldn't find the stone despite Sam and I looking - I assume it's in the disposal or the trash.

Our jeweler, like many, has a policy that if you take your jewelry in at least once every 12 months to have him check the prongs, all stones that fall out will be replaced. I am hoping that is truly the case, but I should know shortly because the ring is due to arrive prior to 3 p.m. today. Here's to hoping that's not just a marketing gimmick. 

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.

Only the Good Die Young

"It is not length of life, but depth of life"

Ralph Waldo Emerson 

Today I received bad news from some former teammates: one of the girls I played varsity water polo with in high school passed away yesterday.
From what I understand, she stayed home from work on Monday with a headache.  On Tuesday, at work, she lost her ability to speak and was rushed to a local Emergency Department.  After running some tests, doctors realized that she had experienced a stroke.  I believe at that point, they put her into a medically induced coma and transfered her to a hospital that specializes in treating stroke victims.

Her parents flew from Northern California to Colorado on Wednesday where they received the terrible news that their daughter would not recover.  On the eve of her 30th birthday, Liz Doherty was taken off life support and passed away.
I have lost grandparents, and parents of friends, but Liz is my first friend who has passed away.  I am in a state of shock.

We played together my sophomore year of high school, when our team won the North Coast Section.  It was a tumultuous season for our team: we had younger girls playing more than older girls, our coach was inexperienced, and we didn't stand a chance on paper.  But we became a team despite the barriers to success.

I remember one night, Coach was riding Liz pretty hard.  We were all feeling a bit exhausted and nobody wanted to be there.  Coach said to Liz, "How'd you miss that shot? What are you? Blind?" To which Liz replied, "Yeah, actually, I am blind in my left eye."  Boy.  That was a fast lesson in smart-assing a coach.  One I took to heart and put into practice many years after Liz had graduated.

I remember her giving me advice on not caring too much about the sport- it was character building, but wouldn't mean much out in the real world after college.  Liz lived each day to the fullest.  She lived fast and died young.  But boy, did she have a helluva time doing it.

Tonight, on what would have been Liz's 30th birthday, I am thinking back fondly on that season at Campolindo.  I am remembering her smile, her laugh and the way she could always lighten the mood. Thank you for the memories, I will always think fondly on our time together and wish that it didn't have to end so soon.

"May your glass be ever full.

May the roof over your head be always strong.

And may you be in heaven half an hour before the devil knows you're dead."

Irish Proverb

RIP Giselle

Throughout our puppy class experiences over the last 7 months we have seen a lot of familiar faces and made a few friends along the way.  We received the sad news that the sweet English Bulldog, Giselle, was the victim of a tragic accident and had passed away.

Giselle and Hunter completed their Intermediate & Advanced Training Classes together and were currently enrolled in a special advanced class with trainer Kate.  In the last few months we had done a lot more puppy-trading in class to familiarize our dogs with strangers and I always loved Giselle.  I am so sad for her mom, Rosalyn, who adopted Giselle from her vet after losing one of her two pugs to old age. Ros had told me how devastated she was at losing her dog last year and what a help it was to have Giselle brightening up the house.  In fact we had spoken last Sunday about getting together for a play-date so that Hunter and Giselle could rough-house and burn off a little energy.

I know Hunter has only been a part of our family for a little more than 7 months but I cannot imagine how I would cope with something happening to him.

REST IN PEACE GISELLE!

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.