Life is Beautiful

Today was a beautiful day, although my head rings with a headache, the remnant of my tears. I attended the funeral of Todd William Mee, the son of my mother's boss. He was only 35. I never met him, but I wish I had. This is not the first time I've left a funeral wishing I'd met the deceased. It was a reminder that there are wonderful people on this earth.

It was also a reminder that life is fleeting, that people are weak, and yet so strong. Strong enough to read a goodbye to their older brother and protector, strong enough to join the Navy after 9/11 because they feel called to help, strong enough to watch their son's casket carried away from them, strong enough to bury the man they would have married, had God given him a few more months.

I can't imagine how I would have held it had it been my brother. And yet my brother is young, has accomplished nothing compared to this valiant man. I walked away with the astounding sense that the person whose life was ended, far before its time had so much more to offer. He was a great man, a brave sailor, a caring brother and uncle and son. The little things today, like his sister telling us how he would answer her calls with "hello, beautiful" and his father telling us that his deep, melodic voice was "his favorite sound in the world," or the repeated strain that he was his family's protector, the gentle giant, "Bull," that made him the person he was, and made me so sad that I missed out on it.

After the funeral, I paid my respects to his parents, and his father told me this: "Take advantage of every moment" he said "because life can be over, so soon...you know, I think he reached the pinnacle of his life. He was celebrated in the Navy, engaged, and had just received a commission in the Pacific. Maybe his life had reached its pinnacle." He paused and said "I guess we only have so much time on this earth."
"He did so many wonderful things in his time, though" I said.
"It's true. But I still don't understand. I probably won't. Just promise me. Don't leave the house without saying "I love you." Don't waste a single moment."

Glimpse into the Past

On Tuesday night I went to my parents' house to celebrate my dad's birthday. On the kitchen table was an ancient-looking book, and as I have an unexplainable affinity for ancient-looking books, naturally I picked it up and took it to the couch to browse it's pages. It was a jewelry catalog, leather bound, from 1924. Inside my great-grandfather had pasted newspaper articles about baseball. Apparently he was really a fan of the sport. He began, based on the article dates, in 1930 and pasted into this book until about 1935. There were articles on Lou Gerig and Babe Ruth, as well as the then-winning Detroit Lions (his team). I felt his presence as I flipped pages of neatly aligned, yellowing articles. It was as though I could feel the concentration and love that had gone into this scrapbook of sorts, and that I held a treasure in my hands.

Halfway through the book there was an article not pasted on the pages, clipped carefully and folded in half. When I unfolded it I found my grandparents' wedding announcement. Her father must have clipped this later and stored it in his scrapbook. The picture is hard to make out, but one I've seen before. They look radiant, and elated. It does not speak of the years of violence and misery that would follow. The article describes her dress, her bouquet of white roses and gladioli centered on a qhite orchid, her bridesmaids and their dresses and flowers, the guests, and where they were to live, even what the mothers of the bride and groom wore. The attention to detail was touching. I suppose it conveyed a sense that people really cared. I felt as though I had stepped through some mystical door into the chapel with a nervous young couple, their parents, friends, and family. I felt the urgency to save this piece of history, record it. I am working on that. I've bought a wonderful book which will prompt my grandmother to tell her story, and I want to write it all down. But I also plan on treasuring her handwriting.

Reach out today. Ask your mother/grandmother/uncle, anyone, a question about what life was like for them in one certain moment. Remember it.

Never forget.

Quarter Life Crisis

So it's my birthday. 25 years old.

In my 24th year I: had several parties thrown in my honor, worked a lot of overtime, got married, went to Mexico, lost my grandfather, and found myself a little more.

I am currently working for "the man," trying to start a photography business, working on my skills in biking/getting in shape, trying to become a better person, attempting to stop gossiping, growing pumpkins, loving my personal style, feeling strong, adoring my husband of <9 months, trying to be a better wife everyday, working on the whole forgiveness thing, sticking up for myself at work, trying to love my body more, and generally appreciating the wonderful life I have.

I am thankful. I am strong. I am proud. I am 25 years old.