Father's Day with the Mets

I made the decision about what to do on Father's Day months ago and the honest truth is that I made it haphazardly without any thought at all. I selected Sunday, June 16 as one of the dates in my Mets ticket pack without even making the connection that it would be Father's Day, but as I look back on today I feel like there was definitely a case of divine intervention in my supposedly random ticket plan selection.

Up until last week I wasn't sure who was going to come with my little guy and me to the game since I assumed most people would be busy with other Father's Day plans. I was preparing myself for the possibility that it would just be the two of us. But sometimes life happens and both of my parents ended up being able to join us for the game. What a blessing that turned out to be!

We cheered like good fans through 8 1/2 innings of uninspiring Mets baseball.  By the time we came to the bottom of the 9th I have to admit that I wasn't feeling like we had much of a chance. The Mets had only 2 wins so far in June. They had plenty of scoring opportunities already in today's game, but couldn't manage to put even a single run across the plate. And then there was the pitiful display of fielding in the 5th inning which has blooper reel written all over it. Nieuwenhuis, who came to bat with two on and  1 out in the bottom of the 9th, hadn't hit a major league homerun since June 23, 2012. He had just been called back up again from AAA. The causes for hope were slim.

Even so, it had been a nice day with my son and my parents. My Dad and I got excited when we saw my tweet which mentioned him up on the Citifield scoreboard. We had a blast watching my little popcorn machine make quick work of his giant box of popcorn. I was even bold enough to tell my Dad that the Mets never lose when I get something up on the big screen. (Surely that was destined to be a jinx!) It had been a fun day and I wanted to remember it. So just before the bottom of the 9th with the Mets down 0-3, I moved over to where my Dad was sitting and posed for this photo. 

We were having a nice time together in spite of the Mets lackluster performance. And then Marlon Byrd led off the inning with a homerun. The apple went up. My son was on cloud nine. We all were having just a little bit more fun.

Duda walked. Buck came up with a hit. Quintanilla (whose name my son LOVES to say) advanced the runners on a bunt. All of a sudden they were looking like a real major league team. I almost felt bad for being a cranky Mets fan and changing the lyrics in Take Me Out to the Ballgame to "if they don't win, it's the Mets". I remember mouthing something to the effect of "Joe, there is no way this is going to happen, is there...just as Nieuwenhuis was stepping to the plate. 

He took the first pitch for a ball and then wouldn't you know it, he cranked that second pitch firmly out to the Pepsi Porch. The familiar strains of Takin' Care of Business started filling the ballpark and tears just started streaming down my cheeks. I hope my parents don't mind my saying that they both got teary too. This was an emotional day not just because Joe wasn't there, but also because my mom just lost her Dad two weeks ago. This was a sweet and hopeful ending to a day that came with a lot of sadness. (The little guy cried too, but that was because he was shocked at all the noise from the homerun. Once he realized it meant that the Mets won, he was fine.)

Those Mets who in the 5th inning couldn't even seem to manage a simple game of catch thrilled us all with a bottom of the 9th we could smile about all the way home. Or in my case, all the way to the cemetery because after that I definitely needed to have a "chat" with my little guy's Dad. As is the case these days when I go I didn't spend a long time there, but it was long enough to give his brother a few hugs, shed a few tears, and acknowledge how thankful I am for the lessons of hope he has always brought into my life - and that, somehow, even though he is no longer here with us physically, he still brings.

June 5, 2013 is a Lot of Things

June 5, 2013. National Running Day. My grandfather's funeral. Eighteen months since Joe died.

I've been seeing the buzz about National Running Day all over my Twitter feed and from my Facebook friends for the past few days. Discounts on races. Everyone talking about how long they will be running and who is going to be running with them. Inspiring images.

The only thing that was on my mind with regard to June 5th was the fact that I would be burying my beloved Grandpop on the same day that I was marking 18 months since my Joe died. To be frank, it sucked.

This morning, we said our goodbyes to my grandfather at the same funeral home in the same room where I said my final goodbye to Joe. The VFW had left a red poppy in his casket as a part of their ceremony the evening before which brought up lots of emotions for me as I paid my final respects. Church was tough too - again, it was the same place where we had Joe's funeral service. Also, again it was a beautiful service. My sister Karen and my cousin Suzanne gave beautiful eulogies and I found great comfort in my friend Heather's singing of the 23rd Psalm. We sang Amazing Grace, For All the Saints, and O Beautiful for Spacious Skies. As much as particular elements brought me back to Joe's service, it was uniquely Grandpop and truly moving on its own.

Since Grandpop was to be buried at the cemetery in Kingston, we were able to walk from the church to the cemetery, making for a memorable procession down Main Street. He would have gotten a kick out of it.

Walking from the church to the cemetery.

Once at the cemetery, it was the playing of Taps that affected me the most. It brought me back to my Grandpop Luck's funeral, a time when Joe was still in my life to bring comfort. After the brief service at the Kingston Cemetery, Domani asked me if we were going to the cemetery. It took me a minute to realize that he was talking about the cemetery where his dad is buried. His comment made me realize that perhaps what I needed to do to really find some peace today is to spend some time there.

So, as it turned out, it was running to that cemetery on this National Running Day which in many ways saved me. After the little guy and I had our much needed naps, we went over to my parents house for dinner and I took off for an emotionally-charged run. When I left, I wasn't sure if I would actually make it to the cemetery, but in the end it was 7.5 miles that started at my Grandpa's house, looped to the cemetery and back. It was a healing run that very fittingly ended with the song "Heaven" blasting through my iPhone. I couldn't have planned it better if I had timed out the songs myself.

Goodbye to Grandpop Kady

I had no idea when I wrote this blog post from Brasil that I would be sitting here two weeks later going through all the fresh pain and longing of grief with a new loss. The reality started to unfold as soon as I landed in New York City on the morning of May 20th and reconnected with the world via my cell phone.  There was a text from my Dad which was followed by an email. The news was not good. While I was preparing to depart Brasil the previous afternoon, my Grandpa was being rushed to the hospital and was undergoing lifesaving emergency surgery on his stomach. At age 91, it was risky, but if nothing else my grandfather was a fighter and fight he did. I am so thankful that I landed to news that he had pulled through the surgery ok and not to something more suddenly devastating. It was jarring news for sure, but at least he was alive.

Once he was up for visitors I made a trip over to the hospital. It happened to be Memorial Day weekend so while Domani and I were out that morning we made a donation to the VFW and picked up a poppy to bring to him. For as long as I can remember, getting a poppy and sharing a moment with the veteran selling them has been a part of my Memorial Day weekend tradition and that is because of my grandfather. It just seemed right to bring him one this weekend and the smile on his face when I showed up with it let me know that I was right. I didn't spend long in the room visiting with him, but it was enough to let him know I love him and to hear the same from him. I was so thankful that I got to do that on what was always a special weekend to him and one where I would always make sure to spend some time with him.

Memorial Day 2010 at the VFW with Grandpa

On Wednesday I found myself once again traveling for work when I got more bad news about Grandpop's condition. I had just arrived in upstate NY for a meeting to hear that he had an episode with his pacemaker, that his nutrition level was low, and that his lungs were filling with fluid. It was already Wednesday evening and from the description of his condition it didn't sound like he had much time left. I made the drive home on Thursday morning with a heavy heart, stopping off in Binghamton, NY for a 5 mile run in a beautiful park there. Running is an outlet for me during times like these and I needed the strength and clear thinking to get me through what I knew would be some tough times ahead. 

It was hot and sunny and the 5 miles did not come easy but there was one moment in particular that lifted my spirit. About halfway through the run I noticed a small pine tree off to the side of the path. It was decorated with flags and other red, white, and blue memorabilia for Memorial Day. It immediately made me think of Grandpop. As I was running by that spot, I was joined by a beautiful yellow butterfly which, thanks to the lyrics from Vetiver's song I Must Be In A Good Place Now, made me think of Joe. I felt a sense of peace and connection - exactly the clarity I was looking for when I set out. When I returned to my car I snapped a photo to remember the beauty of the run.

After my run in Otsiningo Park in Binghamton, NY

That night I was able to go to the hospital after work to visit Grandpop. I could tell that he was having a hard time physically, but his face still lit up as he recognized those of us who were able to come to visit. I put my hand on his shoulder and gave him a kiss on the cheek. His obvious joy at the touch was something I will never forget. I told him that I love him and he told me how much he loved me and how good I was to him. It was a very special moment. Remembering back to when Joe passed and what that moment was like, I then simply wished him peace and told him that he would be ok. Shortly after 8am the next morning I received word that he had died.

As it turned out, at the moment Grandpop passed, Domani was playing with his Matchbox cars on the floor of our kitchen. As I often do, I had asked him where the cars were going and I was overwhelmed when I pieced it all together later that his response had been "heaven".  I am always amazed by how in tune kids can be to these things and how we are often just too caught up to pay attention to the thin veil between heaven and earth. Somehow, Domani was in a special moment even in the midst of his play.

The days since Grandpop's passing have been busy and tough. One of the hardest parts of walking through this loss has been not having Joe there to support me. He was my rock when my Grandmom Kady died and even though we weren't dating at the time he was a special support when my Grandpop Luck passed away the following year. When his Grandma died in 2009, we were both heartbroken but having each other helped us through the grief. From the obituary to the photo boards for the viewing to the pall bearers of which he would have been one, there are constant reminders of Joe being missing from this family equation and it makes the sting just a little harsher. When Domani talks about his "Great Peepaw" being in heaven, it is in the context of being there with his Daddy and that is enough to rip any mother's heart out.

The next few days will be tough. But there are many things for which I am thankful. A friend who would run a 10k with me in 90+ degree heat this morning so I could wrap my head around my emotions. The friends who watched Domani while I did it. Amazing parents who in the midst of their own grief still manage to take care of me. Co-workers who understand that the tasks on my to do list are not the most important things in the world right now. Cousins who will stay up late and laugh over drinks. Sharing wine and a good meal with friends. Wonderful photos of my Grandpa and the memories that go with them.

Thanksgiving at my parents' old house in Hamilton.

August 16, 2010

Veterans Day at Applebees - November 2009

A Year Ago

It feels like it was yesterday and ages ago at the same time. A year ago today marked the beginning of a fun musical journey - the first reunion show of The Afghan Whigs, an amazing night at The Bowery Ballroom in NYC. It's a night I will never forget because it meant so much to me, especially as I worked through the pain of losing my Joe. 

I remember so clearly the excitement I felt as I drove north from Atlantic City where I was for a work conference to meet up with some other fans before the show. We were like kids on Christmas morning and what a Christmas it turned out to be! By the time it was all over and I was driving back down the Parkway, I could hardly believe what had happened. I had really just seen The Afghan Whigs live at The Bowery Ballroom. I had met Greg and John and Rick. I had felt so close to my Joe. And there was more to come.

What an adventure followed that first concert in NYC...

In 2012, I attended a total of 10 Afghan Whigs shows from Toronto to New Orleans, from Cincinnati to NYC.

I brought my little sister, my cousin, and several friends to their first AW shows and went with an old friend to our first one together since we saw them in a now defunct NJ dive bar during college.

I made more new friends than I can count including two amazing women with whom I have already run a half marathon (love you, Malinda & Melissa!).

I met Greg Dulli for the first time. And a second time. And then on one especially meaningful night I finally felt it right to tell him just how important his music has been to me.

I stood in the very front row, in the back, and basically everywhere in between.

I heard them play their cover of Band of Gold live.

I cried more than once when they played Faded and sang as loud as I could along with countless other songs. 

I got my very own playlist to take home on a very special night.

I rang in the New Year in Cincinnati with my sister, my best friends, and my favorite band wondering how in the world we could possibly top such an amazing year. 

Perhaps, just perhaps, sometime soon all of the Facebook and Twitter and Instagram teasing that the band has been up to recently will lead to another "Your Attention, Please..." In the meantime, though, pardon me if I happily bask in some memories from last year. I'm thankful that it led me to Malinda and Melissa, that it brought me some peace in the midst of missing Joe (thanks, Elissa!), and that it gave me my first meeting with GD. It was a fabulous night with wonderful people, making it truly unforgettable.

The Afghan Whigs on May 23, 2012 at The Bowery Ballroom

A not so great photo of GD from the show.
I was too absorbed in the show, didn't take many photos.

On cloud nine, meeting Greg Dulli for the 1st time after the show.

From Brasil While Missing Him and Him

Before I left for Brasil, a friend of mine suggested that I needed to ask about the meaning of the word "saudade" while here. He assured me that whoever I asked would be more than happy to explain its meaning. At first I was suspicious, but he was so genuine in his conviction that it was a beautiful word that I decided I would wait for the appropriate moment and ask away.

I will admit that I did cheat slightly and ask my friend Ana about the word when we met last week over lunch for a tutorial about Brasil. Just as my friend had predicted would happen, her eyes lit up as she described what it meant. I thought I was prepared then, when I asked about the meaning of the word over dinner last night, but there was something about asking it here in Brasil that hit me like a ton of bricks.

As the knowing smile appeared and the answer came back, my mind immediately turned back to Joe. And, in this circumstance, back to Domani who I had at that point not seen for more than 2 days. You see, the simple response is that SAUDADE means missing someone deeply. I certainly know what that's like. As we talked about it more - about how this means both the pain of the separation and the joy of the happy memories - I felt the tears starting to come. Then there was a sweet and gentle embrace from my travel companion and a merciful change of the subject to how to say "love" and "lust" in Portuguese - connected to the topic certainly, but not likely to inspire the waterworks to spring a leak.

We took time over drinks later to re-visit SAUDADE in the context of losing a loved one and it was a truly meaningful conversation. I'm so thankful for those moments of spiritual exploration and the ability to share our humanity with each other. I also continue to marvel at the power of language to capture emotion and found this explanation of SAUDADE to be particularly intense:

"Saudade was once described as "the love that remains" after someone is gone. Saudade is the recollection of feelings, experiences, places or events that once brought excitement, pleasure, well-being, which now triggers the senses and makes one live again. It can be described as an emptiness, like someone (e.g., one's children, parents, sibling, grandparents, friends, pets) or something (e.g., places, things one used to do in childhood, or other activities performed in the past) that should be there in a particular moment is missing, and the individual feels this absence. It brings sad and happy feelings all together, sadness for missing and happiness for having experienced the feeling." (from Wikipedia - for the rest of the definition, click here.)

Thankfully, I'll get to give my little guy a big hug tomorrow. Somehow, once again I feel like the discovery of this word was yet another way for Joe to give me one too. There's always something special about being able to put a word to an emotion that's been sitting with you for so long - but it's even more special when it's a beautiful word from another language and even more special still when you are visiting in the country where that language is spoken.

When It Doesn't Feel Like Mother's Day

When I woke up this morning it was Mother's Day, but aside from the endless stream of posts when I logged onto Facebook you wouldn't have known it in my house. My little guy is still too little to make breakfast in bed or have a gift ready for his Mommy or even to know that he should run in and say "Happy Mother's Day". He would have been coached by his Dad on all those things and undoubtedly Joe would have been very good at it. Today is one of those days when his presence is really missed.

At my parents' house after my run.

Domani and I shared a tender moment this morning when he sensed my sadness and in an exchange we have had many times over the last year he asked if I was missing Daddy and I told him yes. He said that Daddy wasn't here, but was in heaven and that he missed him too. Then, he gave me a hug and kiss and used his fingers to "make me smile" by turning up the corners of my mouth. Really, who needs a present with a kid who takes care of his mom like that. 

There were two other thoughtful gestures which made my morning. Right in the midst of my tough time, I received a personalized Happy Mother's Day text message from two good friends. They were perfectly timed and while I'm sure these two amazing guys have no idea how important their texts were in inspiring me through my day, I'm thankful they came when they did because I was feeling alone and needed the boost.

Church was uneventful and afterwards, I decided to act on my overwhelming desire to go visit Joe's mom. I was missing him and just really wanted to see her and make sure that Domani got to see her too. So, we started the 1 hour and 20 minute drive which was only interrupted by a quick stop to pick up something for lunch and a bouquet of flowers. I knew she would be surprised by our visit, but I didn't realize until I read her most recent blog post before leaving the Stop & Shop parking lot just how poignant the scene of Domani bringing her the Mother's Day flowers would be for her. We both had some tears in our eyes. It was so good to see her on this day which is difficult for a million reasons.

On the way to Joe's mom's I was still feeling down. It seemed like everyone around me whether it was in real life or on Facebook was just having a grand old Mother's Day time. What I really wanted to do was post how sad it felt to be a single mom to a toddler who couldn't really interact with you on Mother's Day. Then, it was my iPhone shuffle to the rescue. Seasons of Love came on and I sang along as loud as I could, tears streaming. I let it repeat a few times. Later on, I used the lyrics as my status on Facebook. I thought it was a way to be honest about my feelings on this day without raining on everyone else's happiness.

Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes

Five hundred twenty-five thousand moments so dear

Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes

How do you measure, measure a year?

In daylights, in sunsets

In midnights, in cups of coffee

In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strike

In five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes

How do you measure, a year in the life?

How about love?

How about love?

How about love?

Measure in love.

(From Seasons of Love, RENT Soundtrack)

During our visit, Domani was his usual charming self. After their dog wagged his tail in Domani's face and I explained that means he is happy, Domani proceeded to stand up, shake his butt and tell us "I wagging my tail!" We all got a good laugh out of that one. He also rode the goose statue that is next to the fireplace and tried to sneak as many pretzels as he could out of Grandma's bag of pretzels. We had a lovely afternoon and as always happens it was time to go way before either of us were really ready to leave.

Riding the goose (or is that a swan?)

From Ocean County we traveled back up Route 539 to South Brunswick for some time with my parents, my grandparents, and my sister and her family. After a delicious dinner made by my Dad, I went for a 5 1/2 mile tempo run. It was refreshing and included a beautiful moment right around mile 4 when the song Seasons of Love came on my shuffle just as I was turning a corner to head downhill. The sky was open, blue, and gorgeous above me and I felt so connected to Joe that the tears just flowed as I was running down the hill. It was a wonderful release after what had been a very emotional day.

Measure in love indeed. Thankfully, I have a lot of it - both given and received.

Nike Women's Half Marathon - Washington, DC

Today I went for my first run since I completed the Nike Women's Half Marathon a week and a half ago in Washington, DC. It's been a frustrating 9 days as I waited and waited and waited until my poor feet were back in a shape that would allow me to run again without pain. The main culprit was an infected toe, although  I also had a fair share of blisters and even my first lost toenail.Yes, I certainly earned my 7 minute PR on that race. My finish did not come without some physical sacrifice.

I may have only covered just over two miles in the early evening humidity today, but it felt like an awfully big deal. I was getting my groove back and jumping back into a training mode and it felt good. I used my playlist from the NWM half and each song I ran with brought me back to a wonderful weekend shared with family and friends.

Outside the Expotique with Malinda and Melissa

I was blessed to make the trip to DC with my son and my aunt and to meet up with my two Best Running Friends (BRFs) Malinda and Melissa. Malinda had convinced Melissa and I to sign up with her for the race back in December when it was announced. At that time I had just started training for my first half marathon. I'm so glad we registered for the lottery and gained entry because we had such a special weekend together. 

Malinda, Melissa and I kicked off our racing fever together at the Nike Georgetown store bright and early Saturday morning for a Q&A with Shalane Flanagan and Joan Benoit Samuelson. The Q&A was followed by a short shakeout run with these two running greats. Since Malinda, Melissa and I don't live nearby each other, the three of us don't get to run together often so being able to run side by side with Shalane and Joan leading the pack was pretty much as cool as it gets. Afterwards, we were lucky enough to get photos with the ladies and I'll never forget that Joan told me she loved my "I Run Things" shirt.

With Shalane Flanagan and Joan Benoit Samuelson at Nike Georgetown

Our names were along the wall at the Nike store - Found MINE!

Sipping on our post-run Jamba Juice smoothies (a very nice touch) Melissa and I made our way towards packet pick up. Within minutes I had my race packet and Melissa had an easy time replacing hers which was accidentally left in a cab the night before. More kudos for the Nike race operation.

When I got back to the hotel my son was still in his PJs munching on his breakfast, meaning we had plenty of time to get to the zoo and enjoy a beautiful day in DC. The National Zoo brought back lots of memories for me and more than once the tears pooled up in my eyes. Joe and I had brought Domani there just before he turned 1 on a trip we made to DC for a Mets v. Nats game. We went to many of the same places and even took photos in some of the same spots. The little guy had a blast and especially enjoyed telling the lions to wake up, trying to eat the dirt like the orangutan, and naming all the parts of the elephant. I'm so glad we had time to do some sightseeing while we were in town for the race.

National Zoo - September 2011

National Zoo - April 2013

Saturday night found us out to a delicious Italian dinner with a good friend and her family. It was just the right amount of carb loading, great conversation, and crazy toddler antics to make for a wonderful evening. When it was all over, we even had our own little brush with unidentified fame as my friend's little charmer caught the attention of a couple leaving the White House Correspondents Dinner. It was the perfect lead in to my race, if only I had been able to fall asleep. I always have a problem sleeping the night before a race. Mostly, it's because I'm worried I will oversleep and miss the start.

This time I was awake and ready to go with no problem. There is always something special about pulling on my Team Sparkle skirt for a race and for this 13.1 I was decked out in my Another Mother Runner BAMR tank which adds a whole new layer of kick ass to my running gear. I gathered up my things, kissed my sleeping little guy goodbye and headed to the Metro. Call it fate, but as soon as I stepped out at the Federal Triangle stop, there was Malinda! I gave her a big hug and we spent some time exploring the starting area together - dropping off her bag, making a visit to the porta potties, taking some photos, and eventually making our way to the corrals. My favorite moment was when we were walking back to the corrals from the porta potties and I panicked thinking I had lost my Gu Chomps. My tweet recounting the moment: @MamaDeak: OH NO! Where are my Gu Chomps? Oh, they are in my boob." That just happened. @GUEnergyLabs #WeRunDC

Just before moving to my corral.

Malinda, Melissa, and I were each in different start corrals (in that order) but Melissa and I were planning on pacing together for at least the beginning of the race so she came back and joined me in the 10 minute corral. It was crowded but somehow we managed to find each other and even more amazing we managed to stay together for the first few miles of the race. It was crowded and didn't really start to space out until about mile 4. In fact, I missed the mat marking the first 5k because I was running up on the curb to pass around a crowd of runners. Rookie mistake, right?

At the 10k mat, I made sure to cross over it with gusto and knew from my Nike+ app that I was putting in a good pace. While my app was a little off on the miles, I knew that I was at least on pace to go sub 2 as I had dreamed, but I had no real idea how close I was to the goal. As it turns out I crossed the 10k mat at 56:56.

I felt really great running this race - that is until I hit miles 7-9. They were by far the hardest part of the course for me. The views were beautiful, but the heat was starting to set in and there was much less crowd support on that part of the course than there was anywhere else. My strongest shot of adrenaline came from the awesome sign "If Sarah Palin can run, so can you."  I literally said out loud "Touche!" and then picked up my pace. It's amazing what a little sign can do for you, but it was still a tough slog through those miles. I made quick work of my Gu Chomps and hydrated religiously - all of which I think helped push me through to the end. 

Once I came up on that 15k mark and could visualize running what was basically a 5k I felt another jolt of adrenaline. The crowd support was back - complete with a line of young people waiting to give high fives and all I wanted to do was cross that finish line and hug my little guy. There was one tunnel where the noise of the drums really made things uncomfortable for me, but otherwise the last 3 miles were just willing my body to not lose pace. I knew that if I just kept moving I would at least beat my time from Miami and given how much my feet were hurting and how hot my body was getting I would count that as a victory. Once the finish line was in sight it felt like it kept getting further and further away, but eventually there I was face to face with that blue Tiffany box trying to keep myself standing upright. It was wonderful. I knew I had beaten my time by a significant amount.

In the end, my official finish was 2:04:49, almost 7 minutes better than my 2:11:39 finish in Miami Beach less than 2 months earlier. I was tired and sweaty and I knew that I would have to nurse my feet back to health, but it was so worth it. After I got back to my hotel room, I tweeted: @MamaDeak: I've got blisters, bloody toes, a new PR, and a little blue box. I say I came out on top. #WeRunDC @runnikewomen

This was a truly special weekend. Family. Good friends. Running. A personal record. All in a very special city. It doesn't get much better than that. Except that somehow it did...because the postscript to my weekend is that my favorite running website www.anothermotherrunner.com asked me some questions and did a really lovely feature this past Thursday mentioning the NWM and my plans to run the NYC Marathon in November in an effort to raise money for The American Cancer Society. Through the feature, I connected with so many amazing Mother Runners and more than ever I feel blessed to be a member of this tribe of kick ass women.

With Malinda and Melissa at the We Run sign

Post-race with Melissa