Eating Crap

Let's be honest. We've all done it. Today I did. I ate crap. LOTS of it. As I sit here typing I have a "food baby" that feels like I'm carrying a 7 pounder. I want to give birth because it feels so heavy and gross.

Here is my crap recap:

A semi-healthy small bowl of cereal with soy milk at home

Got to work and then ate a slice (or two)  of disgusting lemon coffee cake with filling from our local grocery store.

Red vine licorice (several pieces)

1-1/2 carrot cake cupcakes w/ gross canned cream cheese frosting

A McDonald's plain hamburger in a desperate attempt to keep it semi-healthy

One bag of small fries w/ yes, a Diet Coke 

(On a side note: Did you know Mickey D's has fat and calorie content listed on their paper wrappers apparently? I actually had an okay caloric intake, but the content and quality is an entirely different topic up for discussion).

In short, if there were a contest for eating crap today, I win.

How do I feel about it? Not great. Not good. I'm going to go swim this evening in 50+ degree fresh water. I will don a wetsuit and swim a mile or so in an attempt to burn a little bit of the sugar and fat laden foods from my overloaded system.

The reality is that more often than not, I eat healthy. Lots of green stuff. Very little inflammatory foods. Nuts, avocado, olive oil and other good fats. Almond milk or soy.  Fruit. Fish. Chicken. Water. LOTS of water.

Today? Not so much. I will wipe my crystallized sugared lips and begin my swim in a little while. When I wake up and attend a breakfast honoring my daughter, the almost-graduated nursing student. I will make healthy choices. My food baby will disappear and I'll feel better. I'll run and bike this weekend. 

But every once in a while I will have an eating crap-filled day. Some days are just like that.

Deleting Contacts

Today I was talking with a friend. He had just deleted all the emails from a woman he'd been dating, getting rid of her contact information from his phone and his computer.

It caused me to pause and reflect upon what I've learned about people's personalities. That is, timing, is everything.

Are you the kind of person who clears closets, empties picture frames and removes all memorabilia right away? Do you purge and eliminate all evidence of a person's existence? Do you want to move on?

Or do you gather all traces, putting them in a box tucked away deep in the inner recesses of  your garage, basement or stairwell closet? Is it avoidance or are you allowing time to process events to reflect upon at a later date?

Perhaps you are the kind of person who wears the t-shirt he gave you from his work, favorite sports team or a trip he took. You keep the emails in a folder on your email account so that when you need to read them they are there, as is his contact information or the multiple drafts from emails you chose not to send. But you are still sitting in the hurt or grief or alone-ness, allowing yourself to feel the emotions, until they pass. Knowing they will.

It does not seem to matter if it is death, divorce or the break-up of a loving relationship. The pain is still there to deal with at some point in time.

I know when I gave away my favorite pair of oh-so-comfy-fire-department-newlywed-purchased sweat pants from my ex-husband to our youngest daughter the acute pain had subsided. It took many years.

Deleting both my dad's name and another girlfriend who had died around the same time from my list of phone contacts and my email list was brutal. I waited until I felt keeping them hurt more than deleting them.

Today, inspired by my friend I opened a file on my computer with emails from a past love. I pressed delete.

Delete.

Delete.

Delete.

Then I made the  mistake of opening up a few and reading them. I began to selectively delete. I could see, clearly, how much I've grown and changed in the past four years. I wanted to take the time to reflect upon all that I had learned. I was running out of time. I went to the trash file and moved them all back into the original file labeled, "XX." I'm almost ready to do it. I just need a long night to do so.

Sometimes it's hard to throw everything away with just one delete. I've learned I need to wait a little bit longer because timing is everything.

Grace

Today I found out the woman whom I have always thought epitomizes the very essence of grace has breast cancer.

Growing up we were fortunate to have a wide circle of friends surrounding our family. It included branches born from buds from my siblings and myself of synchronized swimmers, coaches, parents, neighbors, football players, Castro Valley families. Other offshoots included friends of my dad and mom. One particular branch was unique and continues to be so because it includes friends from my dad's youth: his elementary school, high school or the military. George is a member of this extended and far-reaching limb. George is married to Nancy. Quite simply, Nancy is a saint.

Nancy is a saint for many reasons. One is her incredible faith, despite having experience some very poignant losses and challenges in her lifetime . Her daughter Ingra was one such loss, as a toddler. If you go to her house you would see a few black and white photos of her sprinkled throughout. She was a beautiful little girl and you can still feel the combination of both love and loss. Nancy also had a sister with Down Syndrome whom Nancy would warmly share stories, chuckling as she did so. Clearly she loved her sister. She is married to a stubborn and proud husband, referred to as "Georgie" by Nancy. She softens that man somehow and remains steadfast serving as their anchor while he has aged. She has three amazing adult children who are following in their mother's footsteps.

She radiates beauty. Glows. If  you met her, you would never forget. She is both elegant and regal while also being Earthy. In our home, we sometimes referred to her as "Saint Nancy." I remember as a child I was in a phase where I would constantly say, "Oh God" at the beginning or end of many sentences, as was my newly-formed habit. One summer Nancy and her family were coming to join us in Tahoe for a shared vacation. My dad told me that Nancy might be offended, as a Christian woman, if I were to say, "Oh God." I did not say it the entire week we were together and promptly refrained from saying it afterward too. Even today, if I slip, I think of Nancy.

She is a role model. Even with cancer. In typical Saint Nancy fashion she has tackled the news with an amazing attitude as she begins to undergo the treatment. To my mom she stated both her doctors were "young, very smart and beautiful."

She is one of the most faithful, upbeat women I know. She is full of grace. Even now. Somehow I just know that means something.

I can't help but think of my cousin's wife, also named Nancy, and also eerily recently diagnosed with cancer. She has the most upbeat attitude. You can't help but catch her contagious positive energy when you are near this woman. She is a teacher and not just by her chosen profession. She teaches by example with her infectious amazing personality.

Both named Nancy. Both courageous. Both examples. Both full of grace.

It seems unfair somehow. It feels as though there must be some kind of mistake. But not in their minds. They continue to just be. To shine. Amazing beacons of light.

But if I know anything about these two Nancy's it's this: They are strong women and living life gracefully. And they are loved.

"Friendship isn't a big thing-it's a million little things"

Kathe Schwartz Oster

                                                                           

I am a writer. I write. And so you think I would welcome the opportunity to write about Kathe Oster. The truth is, I don’t. Why? Well for the same reason I didn’t when my dad turned 70 and the entire family wrote something about him and read it aloud. I hosted the party and just could not capture in words the depth of my love for that man. I opted out that night. It took me 8 years to finally sit down and pen a letter to him entitled, “Legacy of Love.” I apparently have a difficult time saying what I really want to those I love. And I do love Kathe.

Kathe and I met years ago while teaching at Vista Grande Elementary. In particular, I got to know Kathe when we taught second grade with our friend Ondi. She was our “next door neighbor” and many grade level meetings involved laughing and joking and generally maintaining a sense of humor about the kids, our workload and the job in general. Many of us had our own children at Vista Grande including Kathe and myself and for a number of years it really was like one big extended family. I know my children have fond memories of the school, yes, but it was mainly the staff and their children that they loved. At the time, Kathe took a liking for my youngest daughter Shelby, I think it was their shared fondness for leopard print. My children’s father worked a great deal of overtime as a firefighter and there were times Kathe would take my children so I’d have a tiny stretch of time for myself. Sadly this meant that one time my oldest daughter Morgan accidentally shut the garage door on top of one of Kathe and Jeff’s VERY nice cars, denting the roof slightly. Other than laughing about it (for which I am mortified even thinking about it), neither Kathe nor Jeff ever held it against us.

Shortly after the dented roof, I’d hurt my shoulder badly and had a mean a**hole of a doctor. I had had an appointment where he was very demeaning, albeit very skilled at administering cortisone shots. Well, Kathe heard about it and promptly came with me to the next appointment. While there, her body language made it very clear he could not mess with me or he’d end up messing with Kathe. He looked at her, looked at me, and said he would be excusing himself from my care and assigning a new doctor to me. He did not want the wrath of Kathe the protector.

As two involved moms, and five children between us, our lives naturally drifted apart due to a shortage of time. Kathe eventually left our school and so did I years later. Fast forward to less than one year ago. I had just finished a triathlon and received a phone call from Kathe. It seemed my oldest daughter had been in downtown Danville and ended up hanging out with Keith. She had enjoyed herself and could not get behind a wheel. Keith had asked Kathe if it would be okay if Morgan slept in their guest bedroom. So due to the generous nature of both Kathe and her son, and the inebriated nature of my daughter, Kathe and I jokingly say we have “gotten back together.”

In the past year, I can only say that Kathe has become one of my very best friends. She somehow invited me to join her in running, which to be honest, we both hated. She had the goal to run her first marathon for her 50^th birthday. I was lucky enough to have gotten caught up in the training and completed my first one three weeks before Kathe. She was my Sherpa and I was hers. We are now part of the exclusive marathon “club” and it has definitely been quite a journey.

I cannot begin to bore you with the literally hundreds, perhaps even a thousand phone calls we have made to one another this year. It’s embarrassing really. We’re like two junior high girls. But she is the very best kind of friend. She can get your abs fit because she’ll have you laughing to the point of nearly choking on your food by poking fun of herself, you, or the situation at hand. She has an amazing ability to not take herself too seriously and yet can be seriously smart and has a depth to her that outsiders might miss…. because on top of all of her wonderful caring support, humor, sensitivity, loyalty, intelligence and perseverance, Kathe has killer good looks. She recently showed me a photo of she and Emily when Emily was a newborn baby in the hospital. I asked her how the heck could she look sexy in a flippin hospital gown? Kathe just laughed it off. Seriously, that woman is one amazing lady (well, except that she never cooks…but then again, she can throw one heck of a party).

So here I stand, wishing her the very best birthday as we celebrate 50 years of Kathe. For me, I feel lucky to count her among my friends because as an unknown author once said, “Friendship isn’t a big thing-it’s a million little things.”

Thank you, KathE, for the million little things.             Love, KathY