you'll never see me fall apart

For what I can say, Saturday was a great look into the life of the man I didn't know so well. There were so many stories: some that I have heard thousands of times, and others that just made me laugh and shake my head. This is what he wanted: laughter, drinks, friends and family. All of us together, celebrating the life of the man who had such magnetism that you just had to notice him. That's all I've got so far. I'm trying to figure out how to deal with this in my own way.

I can't stand talking about myself like this, like I'm some helpless thing. I mean... yeah, I'm sad. I'm seriously confused, and I don't understand how or why things like this happen. But most of all, I'm angry. Things like this shouldn't happen to people who work so hard, and on top of that try so hard to be good. People like this do not need to be taken from a world like this. And for that, I am angry.

There are seven stages of grief, I understand this. Anger is in there, somewhere around stage three. But More than being angry, I am just confused. I know that this happens to everyone, that the end is a part of life. 'The debt that all men pay.' I guess I just didn't understand how much these people meant to me; I was too young while they were here to understand that I needed to appreciate them. And now it is too late. But that is part of life right?

Ignorance. Foolishness. Loss. Shock, pain, anger. Regret. Hurt. Grieving. Acceptance. Hope.

I strongly believe that there is always hope. No matter how much you have been hurt, or how much you are afraid that something bad is going to happen, hope is always there. It waits for you to grab on to it, and will stay for as long as you hold it. So here's to hope, and the prayer that I won't forget to appreciate from now on.

zip the lip, and take a lap

When I was a kid I was taught that when you run faster, work harder, and think not only broadly but quickly, you will win bigger. The lessons that I learned in my childhood have followed me throughout my life, and on this day I am reminded of the man that taught me.

I did not come by my coach by chance. This was a decision that was made for me by my mother and by the athleticism in my sister that my coach considered to be a family trait. And while it was not my choice that placed me on his team, it was my decisions and trust in this man that kept me there. The years that I played for Joe were always filled with laughter and triumph as he taught my friends and I what success tasted like. Together we learned how eleven different girls could become one cohesive unit, and in turn we taught our coach how a team of rowdy twelve year old's could become a family.

Today, we laid to rest one of the solid figures of my childhood. And though words may not be enough to convey what this man meant to me, and how he shaped the individual that I am today, they stand as a testament to who he was. I stand as a testament to the type of decision maker and ambitious young woman that he hoped for all of his girls to be. Today, I remember you coach; and I thank you for leading me to a life that promises so much more than first place trophies.

you'll be here in my heart

Yesterday, for the second time in my life, I saw my father cry. A long, silent hug. Several forced, deep breaths. And the the struggle of the words that he couldn't bear to say. I knew what was coming. I had been awake for longer than he and my mom thought I had. My bedroom window overlooks the backyard, and I had heard bits and pieces of conversation since the phone call that had woken me up hours before.

"I didn't wake you up, did I?"
"Yeah it's him."
"No, Patti called Mark this morning... Sometime around 4:00."

There are moments like these, defining moments, that can cause you to falter- to question everything in general. There are these people in my life that are more than human to me. They are the people that I want to emulate in my own life, and the ones that I look to to always be constant. But when moments like this come along, it makes it harder to breathe. It makes it harder to trust anything. Most of all, it makes it harder to have faith. To see my dad cry over this, the loss of someone who was undoubtedly one of his favorite people in existence, it changes a person.

So here's to my uncle: a man who would give a 12-year-old a sip of his scotch just because he thought it would be funny; a man who would use family gatherings as a time to teach my dad how to play grand theft auto; a man who, no matter the situation, could put a smile on your face and a certain warmth in your heart; my dad's best friend, and someone that I will regret not knowing better, for the rest of my life.

"Death is not extinguishing the light; it is putting out the lamp because dawn has come." --Tagore