Significance

For the rest of my life, today will be a very significant day. My dad died 2 years ago today. At this very moment, 2 years ago, I was sitting on my front porch making phone calls to many loved ones and giving them the news. As I listened to the person on the other side of the phone choke tears, I said the same thing over and over again: "I know, it's ok, I understand, thank you." Afterwards, I sat in the dining room with my family, all of us with glazed looks in our eyes from no sleep for more than 24 hours.

**Now, here's a warning: I need to write this for myself, in fact, I'm finishing it 2 days late because I debated whether this is a good idea to write-some of you might find my thoughts upsetting. For that, I apologize.

If you've read my blog, you'll know the significance of my dad's passing and how the effect the last 2 years have had. As I reflect, the first year seemed easier. That could be due to being in school and well, whatever the steps of grief are. This year was much more difficult. I've spent more time thinking about specific events leading up to the day my dad went home.

One of those significant events is how he took the miraculous healing of a very dear friend of ours from church. She was deathly ill and dad believed that her friends and family (all of us) prayed her back here. We "changed" God's mind in taking her home and we kept her here. I remember debating with dad on how God answers prayer.

It's been preached before: Even if we don't "feel" it, or think He does, God always answers prayers with 1 of 3 answers: 1) Yes 2) No or 3) Wait. Obviously, with our dear friend, when everyone prayed for her while she was forced to allow a respirator breath for her, Dad believed that God answered with "Yes, she can stay here." Or it just wasn't her time. Although Dad saw the blessing in Barb's miraculous healing, he also understood what Barb was missing: the Glory of going home.

The significance is that dad understood what it meant to die. He understood what awaited him, and although he agonized what he would leave behind, he couldn't wait to go home. I saw this agony as he lay in the hospital bed while I told him my graduation plan and he had tears in his eyes when he said, "not until next year?" When he suddenly took a deathly turn, we prayed to God to heal him and let him stay. God answered our prayer with "No, it's time for him to go home." We've battled with why dad was taken so soon, so suddenly and the answer is so simple: because it was time.

This significance hit me even harder when I came across the last Mother's day card he gave me, just a few weeks before his death. This is what he wrote in the card:

One thing about my relationship with my dad: we butt heads. A lot. And he wasn't that great in the praising category. But in the past few years, his heart softened and although I was used to Mr. Critical, for him to write something like this, something that would have been very difficult for him to verbalize is extremely significant. There is so much love in this card. And so much finality. Dad also couldn't spell to save his life. This card is perfect. Perfect in every aspect. The writing, the grammar. The poetic thought. He put so much thought and love and, well, significance into this card that no matter how disappointed I am in myself, I can look at this and know what dad truly thought of me.

And I think Dad did that on purpose. Well, I like to think that. At least I hope so.

Either way, always look for the significance in the events in your life, and what God does in your life, and how God answers prayers.

Be a tree

This is a subject I've wanted to tackle for a long time and I'm not sure why I haven't written about it until now, but something happened last week that made me decide that now was the time.

We have a huge ash tree in our side yard. Sometimes I walk under it and marvel at how large it is. In fact, I've been told you can see the top of the tree if you view our neighborhood in Google earth (or whatever that is). What amazes me about this tree is how it just keeps growing. The roots have traveled under the drive way, cracked the driveway in several places, and intertwined with the roots of the pepper trees in our front yard. The branches of the ash tree span so far that it almost completely shades our side yard and always keeps the front porch nice and cool. With the help of our pepper trees in front, our front yard and curbs are always shaded.

The ash tree is quite daring. It doesn't let anything get in its way, as if it just decides it's gonna' go for it and grow where it wants. It takes a risk and tries one direction. If it doesn't work, it makes it work, or moves its branches and roots in a way that does work, but it just keeps going.

I think that's how decision making should be. Me, I've rarely had difficulty making decisions. I've been the decision maker in every aspect of my life for, well, almost my whole life. I think I get that from my dad. Someone must make a decision, so we're the ones who makes it. My dad use to say to me: "It doesn't matter what you decide to do, you just gotta' do something." and "you can choose to do whatever you want, but you have to pay the consequences too." For the first part of my adult life, I made mostly safe choices. No risks allowed.

Until I was faced with the most difficult decision I had ever made in my entire life. I decided to end my marriage. For most of my marriage I had fought to keep my little family together. Until I realized I couldn't fight anymore. Even when I decided to pack up the boys and leave-that was not a difficult decision. The most difficult decision was to not go back. I was not meant to fight the battle of abuse, alcohol and drugs and giving up didn't break my heart-it was the decision to give up. No one could make this decision for me. I prayed like crazy, sought counsel from my pastor and a few friends. Even my brother-in-law had wise words for me, but in the end, I decided I was finished.

And a new chapter of my life began. Going forth, telling my children's father my decision, filing the divorce, raising my boys, working, trying so hard to make the right choices, but also learning that taking a risk, branching out is so important for my growth and life.

Ok, now a funny story about my friend, Amy. I love Amy. I don't get to hang out with her as much as I like, but when we do hang out, something memorable is bound to happen. One of my favorite memories is spending an evening at Disneyland together and we stopped for dinner. She decided to "go out of her comfort zone" and try something new-chinese food at Disneyland! We sat down and she took one bite and grimaced. Oh I wish you could have seen her face! She couldn't take another bite! She promptly got up and went back to her favorite food (I don't even remember what that was-Mexican?) She even let me take home her chinese to my boys (who devoured it in less than 1 second!) She was not happy with her choice, but I think the point was that she tried something new and she wouldn't have known unless she decided to take a risk and try. Was it worth the risk? I think so-yes!

Now my rant: How many times have I heard "I can't decide, you decide for me." I just want to shake those people and yell "Nnnnnooooo! You can decide-just do it!" Whenever I let someone else decide our plans, it's not because I can't decide, it's because I always decide everything and I'd like to allow someone else to stretch out onto the decision branch, as it were. Take a risk! Decide! If it works, great! If not, then you know what to do next time.

So, what happened last week, you ask? Well, a huge branch from our ash tree broke off. The branch was as big as a small tree and when it fell it covered our driveway and most of the street in front of our house. Don't worry, nothing was broken-no cars, etc... and no one was hurt, well, except the tree. It is time for this tree to be trimmed. It is very top heavy and just keeps growing.

Sometimes, the decisions we make hurt. Just like a broken tree branch, or a marriage, or bad chinese food. But these decisions, these risks are necessary. How will we learn, how will we grow and how will we know if we don't decide to take the risk?

When God is not enough...

Ha! Got your attention, didn't I?

How could I write such a thing? That God isn't enough? That's blasphemy, or-well, whatever you want to call it, but how could I, someone with such a strong Christian faith, write that there are times that God isn't enough?

Because I'm still grieving. It's been almost 2 years since my dad died and I'm in more pain now than I was last year. I thought it would be easier by now. It's worse. There are times when I miss him so much that I am in physical pain. My heart feels like it has been literally broken in two. There are moments that I want to scream out, "BUT he was MY DAD!"

Now that I've got you freaking out, let me clarify something. I don't feel like this all the time. Most of the time I'm ok. I love my new job and I'm getting ready to walk in my graduation ceremony next month. So many wonderful things have been happening in my life in the last 6 months. Things that I thank God for every day!

But I can't share anything with my dad. I can't talk to him. He will not be at my graduation, does not know about my job or anything. Yes, I've written before that I do still have my family and friends, and Jesus all there for me, by my side. But I'm human. I still can't talk to my dad.

The funny thing is that it was my friend Olga who noticed what I'm going through. She's the one who said, "Paula, your dad was always the one you talked to. And you can't talk to him. So of course you're lost because you need to talk to him and you can't."

I started feeling this deep loss about two months before I finished school. I had to write a short story, so I wrote it about the day my dad died and how I dealt with the day. I described my dad as my anchor and being without him.

And since then, now that I'm not in school and have way too much free time on my hands, I have felt lost and adrift at sea. And in that moment, when I'm aching inside, in physical pain because my dad isn't there, even God is not enough to comfort me in the moment. In that moment I have to work through that pain, because when you're having a moment of deep grief, I don't think anything helps.

It's what I do after that moment that matters.

Last Sunday at church we sang a beautiful worship song: "How great is our God!" Wow! God is great AND when I am going through that moment of deep grief, He is by my side, waiting for me to reach out to Him and remind me that He is there for me when I am ready.

If you have lost someone very close to you, you know what that moment is and I think it's ok to admit that in those moments, there is absolutely nothing that can help. I think it needs to be felt and gone through and I hope and pray that it gets easier as time goes by. Oh, but how GREAT IS OUR GOD that He is there and understands what we are going through.

You know those moments when you're talking with someone and they get emotional and you can't do anything about it. You know, you just kinda' sit there because nothing you say or do will make that moment better. You just have to wait until they reach out to you and tell you they're ready for you to hug them. I think God is just sitting there waiting for me to remember that He's there for me when I'm ready to get through the moment. And God knows what to do.

Yes, God is enough. Friends and family are enough. And I come back to God, and my loved ones every time. Dad is in heaven, having a great time singing Jesus' praises and I have a life to live. I have a grad school (Shakespeare Institute) application to finish. I have a grandson that is adorable and fun. I have a job that I have a great time at whenever I'm there. I have kids that are moving on with their lives, but still need their mom (thank God). With God's help, I can be the anchor.

God is great. And when God is not enough...

He is.

Valentine Video

School

Today is a bittersweet day. Today is the first day of the Spring semester at CSU Fullerton, the first day in two years that I am not a student there. School is starting without me-I really miss being there. I miss the literature, the campus, the studies...So, I'll reminisce with you on how my last semester went.

This last semester-my final classes of my bachelor's degree-was quite a whirlwind. I had 3 literature classes, a writing class, and a theatre class. I'll try to share highlights from all of them. Let's see...First there was

1) Oral Interpretation of Children's Literature: I stuck with the theme of bedtime stories in most of my presentations. I presented (with character voices and sound effects) "The Three Little Pigs" and my class loved it. This story has been my favorite since my dad used to tell it to my sister and me when we were little. I had a blast in this class.

2) 18th Century and Restoration Period Literature: I read stuff from Sir Isaac Newton for the first time in this class. I was surprised to see how Newton wrote how he couldn't imagine how the universe could NOT have been created by some supernatural being and how everything just works in order-this class had some pretty philosophical debates over this stuff-some of it even too intense for me, but I had the opportunity to put my 2 cents in about enlightened faith vs. blind faith and asking God questions, but also being willing to accept the answers to those questions.

I also read and analyze Alexander Pope's epic poem "The Rape of the Lock" for this class. I wrote a paper arguing that Pope made his female protagonist, Belinda, the hero of the poem, and I must say I thoroughly enjoyed the tons of research I did for this paper. My prof was a great help too.

3) Shakespeare Studies: Well of course I took a Shakespeare class! And this one was a doozie! I read and watched "Titus Andronicus" for the 1st time and holy sh** that is one crazy play! (Yes, I did use an expletive, and so would you when/if you ever see this play!) It's one of Shakespeare's first plays, and it's gory, shocking and incredibly good! I continue to be amazed at how Shakespeare dynamically depicts family values, father and mother relationships, governments, distorts time, uses fairy tales, etc...to create amazing plays and stories! My last essay for this class was on the role of the trickster in his plays.

4) Writing and rhetoric for Teachers: This class really forced me to stretch my writing chops, so to speak. I've copied a couple of things in my blog that I wrote in this class. You know I don't like to write, but this class solidified how writing is therapeutic for me. Throughout the entire semester, my professor encouraged me and expressed how much he enjoyed reading my writing. One of my assignments was to write a short story. I wrote about the day my dad died and how I felt. It was a very tough 3 pages, but I felt so strongly about this day that I had to put it in short story form. I got the full 100 points on the short story. In fact, I got an A in the class. It was this class that help develop my confidence in my writing. I am (slowly) beginning to believe that my writing is actually (kinda) good.

It feels so wonderful to be finished, although it still hasn't sunk in yet-the fact that I've actually accomplished my bachelor's degree-it overwhelms me to think of it!

On that note, my mind has been a whirlwind of writing ideas just in the last few weeks, so expect to see more blog posts coming soon...

I'm a poet?

I put this in my Facebook status on Christmas Day. You see, December 25 is my dad's birthday. He's been gone for over 18 months now, and sometimes it just gets me as bad as the day he passed away. So I wrote this to describe what I've been going through and what gets me through it. I didn't think much of it, but my dear friend, Tracy, commented on it, calling it a "beautiful poem." Really? I wrote a poem? And I didn't even know it? I don't even like poetry.

I've been thinking about this since reading Tracy's comment and wondering if I am a writer, of sorts? I really don't even like to write, but it taps into something in me that is a release (I've written about this before so I won't drag this). Anyway, here's the "poem" I wrote:

Because it's Christmas

Because today was his birthday.
Because sometimes, when I think of him, my heart feels like it's ripping apart.
Because my dad loved Jesus.
Because today is Jesus' birthday.
Because Jesus gives me peace and mends my heart.
Merry Christmas.

Whale of a Tail

Well, it's official. I am a college graduate. It hasn't quite hit me yet. I still feel like there's another paper due in a few days...but I'm done! At least for now. I have a ton of highlights to share, but for now I wanted to share one of my best papers. I wrote for my "Writing and Rhetoric for Teachers" class. It's my "feature article" and features one of my dearest friends, Amy, and whale watching. I'm sharing it with you because my professor commented that he enjoyed reading it: "the assignment is to make nothing read like it's something and you accomplished that-excellent story." I was quite proud of it. So, here you go. Enjoy:

 A Whale of a Tail

            In March of 2000 I was a parent chaperone for my son’s class whale-watching field trip. As all of the fourth graders scrambled to the front of the ship, the teacher and I rallied behind the students to lead the search for whales off the coast of Santa Cruz. The Monterey Bay water was choppy and stormy, but the Captain assured us that we would see California Gray Whales. We spied sea otters and sea lions, common visitors in Santa Cruz, and a few dolphins, but no whales. “Be patient,” the Captain said. My patience ran out when my son, in the grip of seasickness, vomited over the side of the ship. Then I got seasick. Nathaniel and I spent the rest of the trip in the hull, as my son and I chewed crystallized ginger and resisted the queasiness of seasickness. That was the extent of my whale-watching experience. I decided then that I would never go whale-watching again. Period. By the way, nobody saw any whales that day.

            So what are the chances that you will see a whale or two, or three, while on a whale-watching trip? That is a very good question. A question, from my research, that is not easy to answer. Of course, from my experience, my chances of seeing a whale was 0%. My friend, Amy Atkinson, a Long Beach, California resident, would agree with this fact with her experience on a recent whale-watching trip. However, she says, “This was the best whale-watching trip I had ever taken. Within 15 minutes of our trip, the captain informed us that we were coming up on a pod of about 200 dolphins called ‘Common Dolphins.’ After pulling the boat near them it became evident that there was more than the 200 originally thought to be there but instead, closer to 700!” But I thought the point of the trip was to see whales?

            During the California summer is when blue whales are usually abundant in our Pacific Ocean waters. According to the Long Beach Aquarium, there are a few things to take into consideration when on a whale watching trip: Weather, water condition and time of season. In other words, every thing must be perfect. Unfortunately, the gentle giants were in short supply this summer as “the unusually warm waters this season was not the kind of nutrient rich chilly water that these blues come here for feeding! They have traveled on to more krill-rich waters on their mysterious next leg of their journey.” So, pretty much no blue whales at the end of the summer season. Hey, a whale has got to eat sometime.

Who wouldn’t jump at a chance to see the largest living mammal swimming in the ocean? But what if your chances were slim to none? Yeah, I would be bummed out too. Here is what you are missing out on: According to the National Marine Mammal Laboratory (NMML), the blue whale is of the sub-order of whale-species: a baleen whale.  An adult blue can grow to about 100 feet in length, which is longer than a professional basketball court. They also can weigh up to 160 tons, which is heavier than most dinosaurs! For a different perspective: imagine walking through the blue whale’s main blood vessel. NMML states that the blue whale’s aorta valve is so large that a human could easily crawl through (Yeah, I’m not interested in trying it either.) When asking the question “How can I identify a blue whale?” The NMML website has the answer: “They are huge!”

No one can argue with this giant if it needs to go elsewhere for its dinner. This picky eater can be quite particular about its diet. Get this: the largest mammal on the planet eats one of the smallest, bottom of the food chain’s, creatures: krill. The blue whale does not have teeth like the orcas, but a brush-bristle (the only way I could think of describing it) substance that filters out their favorite food. The adult krill will measure to less than one inch in length and is a shrimp-like type of crustacean. For a blue whale to get its fill, it must eat over two thousand pounds of krill at one feeding. During peak consumption period, the blue can eat up to eight thousand pounds of krill. Apparently, krill can be just as picky as whales, considering they prefer chilly waters as compared to Southern California’s unusually warm waters this past summer. The Long Beach Aquarium of the Pacific website showed that the blue whales had to travel on to deeper, krill-rich waters to get their fill. Would you want to hang around if there was nothing to eat? Me neither.

Well, that explains why chances of seeing a blue whale can be slim, but what about our namesake, the California Gray Whale? Amy went on her whale-watching trip early in November and if she had waited just a few weeks, she may have had an improved chance of spotting a whale or two. The Aquarium of the Pacific is excited about the upcoming whale-watching season, but states: “We are hoping to see gray whales during the end of November all the way through May.” This is the time that the gray whales make their winter migration from the coasts of Alaska and Russia all the way down to the warm waters of Baja California. This is a several months long trip that is a 12-14,000 mile migration for the whales.  If you are lucky, the whales will be willing to make a rest stop to say “hello” while you are out there.

What should you look for when spotting gray whales? They are almost as easy to spot as blue whales, if they are out there, except they are not as big as the blue at about half the size at about forty-five to fifty feet in length. That is about the same size as…half the basketball court. I am sure this means it would be a little difficult to crawl through its aorta valve, which I am still not interested in trying. The gray whale is also a baleen whale. It gets its food not from the open ocean, but from the sediment of the sea floor. They sieve the sediment through their baleen to capture plankton, a substance that is even lower in the food chain than krill. In fact, krill larvae are considered a type of phytoplankton. Smaller whale, smaller food. Yet the size proximity is still ironic, isn’t it? How many pounds of plankton can a gray whale eat? About the same as the blue whale, over two thousand pounds per feeding. They can sieve through as much as fifty acres of sediment during a feeding. That is a lot of ground cover! Fortunately, the gray is not as picky and will eat other arthropods called mysids and tiny fish.

It is still too early to surmise if the gray whale will be as allusive as the blue whale. However, if you are still interested in a fun boat ride and the opportunity to see other ocean-life, there is an almost iron-clad guarantee that you will see dolphins. Amy came back from her trip eager to recount watching the hundreds of dolphins frolic: “They swam alongside the boat and jumped and played around us.” That was not the only encounter they had with dolphins. “After about twenty minutes the captain spotted another pod of dolphins, this time, about 200 bottle-nose dolphins. These dolphins are known for their jumping abilities and some of them looked as if they were flying out of the air!” On her two-hour trip, she viewed as many as nine hundred dolphins?  It is a big ocean; I guess that could be possible. Does that make up for not seeing any whales? Amy says yes and “It was amazing! Unfortunately during our trip we did not see any whales but it was not disappointing to me at all. I consider myself very lucky to have seen so many beautiful dolphins!” I tend to believe her after all of the pictures she showed me. The dolphins were beautiful and quite acrobatic.

            What are the chances that I will go on another whale-watching trip? Probably zero, but you never know. I may become inspired by my friend and brave the open sea to catch a glimpse of an enormous gray whale, provided I have taken something to combat sea-sickness but I don’t think so. Since my son had his whale-watching experience, he has had a few ocean fishing trips and could only get through the trip by taking something to combat the sea-sickness, but is whale-watching one of his favorite activities? Absolutely not. But if you are still interested in braving the sea, then remember that whales are much pickier than dolphins and also keep in mind weather and water conditions and the time of season. Unless everything is absolutely perfect, your chances of seeing a whale will most likely be…zero percent. Come to think of it, 900 dolphins could beat out a 160 ton blue whale any day, what do you think?