The Game of Life
When I was younger, I loved to play the game Life. It was so cool to pick a car and load it up with kids while collecting money. I’d name my little pink and blue pegs and travel along. At the end of the game, you would count your money and retire. There was never any talk of death. It was one of my favorite games.
In Junior High, we used to pass around things called "slam books." They had page headers/categories in them like: what kind of car you want, who you’ll marry, what you want to be when you grow up, where you’ll live, what kind of house, etc. etc. You would fill them in and pass them to the next person. My responses usually went something like this:
Car: Porsche or Lamborghini
Marry: I don’t remember but I think I probably said the guy from Growing Pains, Rick Springfield, or Vanilla Ice (depending on the year).
Want to be: Rich
Where to live: Beach
Kind of house: Mansion
I was firmly rooted in reality, don’t you think? My responses were always so practical. Kidding aside, I honestly believed when I was younger, that if you wanted to be rich. . . you would be rich. If you wanted to live in a mansion. . . someone would just give you one. I grew up middle class, so I’m not sure where I came up with these ideas. I watched my parents work hard for what we had. I also thought that bad things, like car accidents and illnesses, happened to other people.
My Great-Grandfather was the first person I knew who died. I went to his viewing and funeral and remember having nightmares for a while afterwards. His death was like such a smack in the face to me. It made me realize that death could and would happen to people I knew. Later my instrument teacher passed away. He was elderly as well, so in my mind, death only happened to older people. It put the worry to rest for a while.
When my aunt died who was in her 40’s, I was devastated. She died after being sick on and off throughout her life. She was young though, compared to the other people I knew who passed before her and it really upset and scared me. Still the 40’s seemed so far away from where I was at the time. A chronic illness and death still seemed like something that happened to other people, older people.
Then I got a terrible phone call. It was last May 2005. I was pregnant and knew that our friend Sheree was due in June with her second baby as well. Sheree’s husband, Conrad, was my husband’s best friend from high school and our mutual friend in college. He was the best man in our wedding. The call was from Shelley, a high school friend of my husband and Conrad. Sheree had been complaining about not feeling able to breathe. She went to see her doctor. They told her it was just the baby pushing up on her lungs, and that the baby was fine. Later that week, she went to the ER when things didn’t get better. From there, they transferred her to a special Mom/Baby hospital. Her lung had collapsed. After a CAT scan and other tests, it was determined that something was very wrong. They delivered the baby a month early. (The baby would later endure open heart surgery for problems that he had.) They sent Sheree to yet another hospital. The diagnosis, after her doctors obtained a second opinion. . .cancer.
Synovial sarcoma is what they determined it to be. It’s a rare cancer with a poor prognosis. Usually, tumors appear in joints, knees, elbows, shoulders, etc. Hers appeared in the lining of her lung and was already stage IV. After chemo shrunk the tumors a bit, they removed her lung. We were all thinking she would get better. None of us knew what stage her cancer was. She endured radiation, more chemo, experimental treatments several states away. . . and nothing worked. The cancer continued to spread; she continued to get sicker and sicker. This past Friday, June 23rd, she passed away.
Their children are ages 6 and 1, practically the same ages as my girls. She was 29 years old. She died exactly five days before she would turn 30. Yesterday we buried her; today is her birthday. She won’t see her children grow up. She wasn’t even been able to be a mother to her 1-year old during this past year of barbaric cancer treatments. She had been too sick and too weak, her mother tells me, to do anything other than watch him grow and play, knowing she wouldn’t be able to for much longer.
I can not imagine having been in her shoes. I can not imagine being faced with not being able to watch my children grow up. Clearly, you can not choose how long your life will be or how it will end. What you can choose is how you can live your life while you’re here. Knowing what Sheree went through and what her family is going through now makes me so thankful for my healthy family; It makes me sick to think of what they have yet to endure. I only wish that the game of Life would have had a very different ending for Sheree and her family.
I am so sad about Sheree as many others are as well. She was a vibrant young mother who loved her children and husband so much. I have some great memories of being at weddings with her and her husband, and spending a week at the beach with them as well. She was always so focused on having "family time." My husband and I were talking about her the other night and about how it’s almost like she knew she wasn’t going to have all the time in the world with her family. She wanted every second to be time spent together. She was so focused on her family that a month before she died, she planned her daughter’s birthday party. Because she didn’t know if she’d be there or not, she made sure everything was taken care of. Her family had nothing to do other than show up. Her birthday party was Saturday, the day after she died and it went on as scheduled. She also made a list that she gave to her husband. It’s a list of things that she wants him to do with their children as they grow up. The first thing on the list was to buy their daughter a bike and teach her how to ride. He took their daughter to the store on Saturday morning and bought her that bike.
I have so many regrets. Sheree and I had been friends and we lost touch over the past few years. We always sent Christmas cards and wrote each other a letter each year, but her email address changed after our beach vacation and our communication went downhill from there. Sheree and I were a lot alike when it comes to our children and families which is what has made this hit particularly close to home for me. I sent her flowers when she was in the hospital. I sent her cards telling her I was praying for her. I sent her a letter telling her I was thinking about her and telling her some information that had been passed along to me about energy healing. I sent her a hair wrap when chemo robbed her of her beautiful long hair. I sent her daughter a jewelry making kit so that she could make her Mommy a bracelet; I sent her baby an outfit. But all I can think about is that I wish I would have called her. I called and spoke to her Mom; we spoke to her husband. I should have asked to speak to her. Honestly, I was so afraid to call her in the beginning. I didn’t know what to say to her. She had just been diagnosed with a rare cancer. Her baby was sick as well. I didn’t want her to think I was only calling because she was sick. I was feeling guilty that I made it through my pregnancy with only gestational diabetes, and that we had a healthy baby. So, I didn’t call. When I said my final goodbye to her yesterday, I closed my eyes and said that I’m sorry I wasn’t a better friend, but that I was going to make it up to her by watching over her husband and children, and trying to help them get through this however I can.
I’m going to pray that Sheree now has peace. I’m going to pray that her family gets through this. On the night she died, her husband said that all of the things he once thought were important, aren’t really important, that the small things do matter. He is so right about that.
I hope that wherever Sheree is, she knows how much she was loved, how much she’ll be missed, and how very sorry I am.
4th kyu
I will officially be "striped" next week, but I have passed my 4th kyu test. My belt will look like this next week:
Oh yeah! This is the last of the green belts. Next time I test it will be for brown belt with one black stripe, then two stripes, then three, and then black belt. This testing felt GREAT! I did everything without a mistake. It was a welcome change from the last time I tested.
I should have remembered that the week following testing is sparring week. I completely forgot; so I showed up at class all excited to start learning my new open hand kata and sai kata. I was sorely disappointed to hear that we were supposed to gear up. In two weeks, our dojo will have six brown belts testing for black belt and two black belts testing for the next dan. This is the most we’ve had in a long time.
Before the official IKKF testing, all brown belts test internally at our dojo. For our IKKF test, sparring is not required. For internal testing, it is (silently sobs while thinking about my future.) Tonight sort of reminded me of fraternity hell week. All brown belts were required to be there for both the early and late class. They sparred, three minute rounds, for two hours straight. Because this was their testing, me and the other lower ranks were put into the sparring rings intermittently with them.
I tested at the beginning of class and was sort of whining about having to spar. My instructor said he was "very interested to see how I would do." After all, the last time I sparred it was with him and he was trying to teach me some tricks and help me with technique. As soon as he said that, my first thought was, "I’m going to disappoint him." My next thought was, "I am going to walk into this ring with confidence (real or make-believe, whatever I have to do.) and try my best."
So I did. My instructor put me opposite a young teenage boy who is very good at sparring. He’s good at watching you and picking you apart. He’s good at waiting for you to make a mistake. Before it was my turn, I watched the other brown belts and took notes as to what worked and what didn’t. I was prepared to try new things, so I did.
Instead of using my back leg for front snap kicks, I instead turned to the side when facing my opponent, cutting off possible strike areas. Instead of snap kicks, I used round house kicks. They seemed to work much better for me. At one point, I followed a round house kick with a punch and a backfist to the head. It probably looked pretty sloppy, but it worked. Of course, I apologized to my sparring partner for hitting him in the head. I’m silly like that. If someone hits me, I have to bite my tongue in order not to apologize for being hit. My instructor interrupted the match to tell me that it was a good strike and that I had nothing to apologize for. I can’t tell you how good that made me feel. So what if the kid is like 13 years old.
I got a bit of a break and then was put in a ring with a 10-year old. He’s a little guy but he’s a feisty one. Here’s the dilemma. With the teenager, I can mentally deal with it. He’s a teenager after all and he looks older. With a 10-year old? Not so much. It’s hard for a Mommy to hit or kick a little boy, even if he’s testing for black belt in two weeks. Also, his Mom was in the dojo watching. I’m sure she just loved watching a 30-something year old woman kicking her kid.
So, there I am feeling all silly fighting this little guy, when he throws a high round house kick at me that NAILS me right in the chest. This chest is currently functioning to provide sustenance to my baby daughter so it did not feel good. Not at all. The next time he nailed me I walked right into yet another round house kick, but to the gut this time. It hurt. He hit my floating ribs and I decided I wasn’t getting kicked anymore. I blocked the majority of the rest of the kicks he threw at me. At one point, I came up under his kick (by accident, but still people, this is good) and sort of moved my arm around so that he was thrown off balance. If I would have kept going, he would have been on the floor. I didn’t continue with the rotation. I probably should have.
I am happy to report that he was unable to make contact with my head. This could be because I had him by almost two feet; but I’m going with the whole I did a good job blocking thing. I made some controlled contact with him, and that felt really good. I think he saw this tall woman coming out and just decided that he could use whatever force he wanted to. I mean, really, what grown person is going to complain about a 10-year old using too much force? Not me! At least not in the dojo anyway. I save it for here.
I think I made some good progress with my sparring and demonstrated it tonight. It wasn’t perfect. I have a long way to go. Even though I am one step closer to black belt tonight, it couldn’t seem further away with all that I know I need to accomplish before I am even able to test for it. Tonight, I suggested to my husband that we buy sparring gear and spend some time each night after the girls go to bed beating the crap out of each other. It would be great exercise and good practice for me. He was sort of receptive to the idea; but to be honest. . . I think he’s scared. I fight dirty after all.
This post brought to you by BBB
The gauntlet has been thrown down by Mrs. Misfortune. My alter ego has been tagged/summoned to inform you nice people who were probably expecting a nice post, 20 things that I don’t like. Even though BBM is quite the spit-fire, BBB (last part rhymes with witch. . . I won’t say it because my Mom reads this blog and alter-ego or not, she doesn’t appreciate swearing from either of us. In fact she doesn’t even like the word "suck", but enough of that.) So, since BBM had her 4th kyu test tonight and also had to spar with two brown belts who are testing for black in two weeks who had something to prove, she’s going to go rest (sissy) and I’m going to rant. . .
Twenty (that’s it???) Things I DON’T LIKE
1. Sparring with a 10-year old who is testing for black belt in two weeks, who decides that since you are an adult, to hell with control. Who needs control? Oh, and since when are the mammaries the new solar plexus. When people? I didn’t get the memo. Neither did my girls.
2. The fact that when sparring with said 10-year old, BBM decides to back off, because he is 10 after all, and is about 4 feet tall, and oh, his mother is in the dojo. When I say back off, I mean complete with smiling while sparring and being all "I’m sorry" even when she got a good shot off. I, for one, am not sorry. Stuff it BBM.
3. People who think that being a Stay-at-Home Mom deprives my child of social interaction since I didn’t put her in pre-pre-pre school at age 5 weeks of age. Guess what people? 15-20 years ago, day care was not the norm. SAHM’s were much more common. Their children all turned out perfectly fine. I happen to be one of them. If you’ve got guilt for going to work, deal with it on your own time. Don’t put me down to make yourself feel better. I don’t do it to you.
4. People who have boundary issues, as in "Don’t water my freaking flowers unless I ask you to. I know you’re trying to be nice and all; but you’re going to kill them because I just freaking watered them." (Deep breath, deep breath.)
5. The show ER. (I’m kind of stealing this one from Mrs. MisFortune but for different reasons.) I used to love it. Now, it’s so political, and not done in a smart way at all.
Scene: 6 year old comes in with a broken finger. Dr. Pratt treats his broken finger, and then goes into the meds room and pounds his fist on the wall while saying, "Damn you George Bush. We should be worried about kids with broken fingers, not Iraq." It’s so transparent and so annoying. I used to watch the show to be entertained; I don’t watch it for unintelligent political banter. I don’t really give a crap what your producers think about politics. AND, if you’re going to make a political connection, try to make it at least a little bit realistic. A soldier dying. . . o.k. I see your point. Kid in ER with no connection to war. . . you lost me. Seriously, it got so ridiculous during one of the last episodes that we watched that my husband and I started blaming everything on George Bush, ER- style, to make fun of the show. BBM stubs toe and says, "Damn you George Bush." Mr. BBM bites his tongue while eating, (shakes fist to the sky) "Damn you George Bush; This is ALL YOUR FAULT."
6. When good people die young. BBM is upset about this; I am just plain pissed about it. More on this in a later post from BBM.
7. The fact that it takes a grown man a good 20 minutes minimum to empty their bowels. Dude, if I have 20 seconds and a smidgen of privacy I feel lucky. Push guys, freaking PUSH!
8. I don’t like when people litter and treat the world as a personal ash tray. BBM gets her gi all in a bunch about that too.
9. I don’t like when people don’t use the "to be" verb. Example: The car needs washed. The car most certainly does not "need washed." It needs TO BE washed, damn it. Man, that’s annoying.
10. I don’t like when people slurp soup or cereal. CAN. NOT. STAND. Got that husband?
11. While on the topic of food. . . I don’t like bad dip manners as in: super scooping, finger dipping/licking, and double dipping. It’s so GROSS!
12. I don’t like it when people don’t keep their dogs on leashes. These are the people who seem to think that the world is their dog’s personal playground. Guess what? It’s not. Not now, not ever. These are the people who let their dog pee or poop wherever they deem appropriate which is inevitably nowhere near an appropriate place. These are the same people who leave the poop where it lands and think nothing of the fact that someone else will be inconvenienced by it. These are the people who let their dogs run through your freshly grass-seeded yard and then casually collect their dog, WITHOUT AN APOLOGY, after the dog has jumped all over your white gi pants when you’re on your way to karate testing. Bitter much? No, not me.
13. While on the topic of dogs, I don’t like it when people ask you about your kids, and then compare your kids to their dog. My kids. . . your dog. . . not on the same level here.
14. I don’t like it when T.O. and other athletes complain about multi-million dollar salaries, especially those who appear on TV interviews whining about how they need to support their family, and on and on and on. I have some advice for you: Take out the 10 carat earrings from each ear. Buy a freaking normal watch like the rest of us. Live in a home that doesn’t have 20 bedrooms. Drive a car that you didn’t have to special order from Italy, and be smart about your millions. Then I wouldn’t have to watch your interview and laugh at how pathetically stupid you are.
15. I don’t like anonymous mean, rude commenters, especially ones who then email me to complain about me not posting their comments and calling my blog "censored," etc. See my about page. Too lazy to go? I’ll sum it up for you: If you don’t like what you’re reading, get lost. No one is making you read this. This is a blog, not a newspaper, and BBM (and her alter ego) serve as the judge, jury and executioner. We will axe your comments without a second thought, and possibly write a post about how stupid you are too.
16. I don’t like it when people think that because I take karate, then logically I must be some kind of person who goes out and tries to start fights. If you think that, I encourage you to read up on the martial arts. Any good martial artist only uses their skills when absolutely necessary, and most certainly not to show off.
17. I don’t like that BBM can’t say NO when it comes to home parties.
18. I don’t like when people get all bleeding heart about sexual predators/child molesters and act like they can be rehabilitated. They can’t.
19. I don’t like whatever made that scallop decide it was going to declare war on my digestive system.
20. I don’t like that BBM is totally bugging me to finish this up so she can write her post about kyu testing and sparring because I’ve already told you pretty much all there is to know with #1 of this list.
Now, who to possess tag. . . Izzy, Wayward Goddess, Mat, Sesame, Amateur Shutterbug, and Maniacal. I’m also going to tag Amalah because BBM did it before and it was fun. I’m not even doing it for a jump in visitor stats like what happened last time because I removed Blog Top Sites from my site because it was just too depressing, addicting, and annoying AND it never worked. But this time, I’m not going to tell her I tagged her because I’m all alter-ego mean like that. We’ll find out if she ever stops by (not), and then BBM will get all sad, and I’ll be all like "suck it up girlfriend," etc. etc. I figure with all her freelance writing lately, maybe she’s hurting for some topics and I can probably guess that one of the things she hates is deadlines.
If anyone is feeling sorry because BBB didn’t tag you. . . deal with it. I picked those who I know have to have an evil side, just lurking below the surface. Anyone else who wants to give it a go? Be my guest. Just be sure to come back here and let BBM know; she likes to be thorough like that. And if you don’t do it. . . you’ll have to deal with me.
Black Belt Bizitch Out.
Carnival Time
When Kailani emailed and asked me to participate in a carnival, I was a little confused. There’s no cotton candy, and there are no rides. . . but there are prizes and tons of great writing. If you’re interested and don’t already have enough blogs to read, check it out. Anyone can participate. . .
Take me to the Carnival of Family Life. . .
Just to update you. . . the little summer flu we’ve got going on here is none other than the Coxsackie Virus. If you’ve been fortunate enough to avoid ever having it or watching your kids go through it, consider yourself extremely lucky. Lil C is on the mend and finally ate some solid food today. Her throat, like her mama’s last week, was just too sore to get anything besides fluids down the chute. So far, Big I and Mr. BBM have avoided it. We’re hoping our bout with it is soon over.
Edited to add: As of this evening, Big I has a fever of 100. Will it never end?
As predicted. . .
Lil C has a fever of 102.5. That’s with the Tylenol. She is cranky, miserable, and I can’t blame her. I was there on Tuesday. It wasn’t fun. I am feeling much better as of this afternoon. In fact, I was feeling so much better that when the head instructor of my karate school emailed to say he could meet me at the dojo for some private review. . . I knew I had to get there tonight.
Lil C was only slightly warm when I left at 5 p.m. I gave her some Tylenol, fed her, and went on my way. The plan was to get there by 5:30, work out for a half hour, and then be home by 6:30. Two of my instructors were there, so we started talking. We talked for a while and then got down to business. We went through all of the material for my 4th kyu test. . . all of it several times. I got home around 8:00 p.m. Oops.
My husband was thrilled with me. He had made dinner while holding a screaming inconsolable baby. At one point he had to turn dinner off so he could hold our screaming inconsolable daughter. Lil C finally passed out in protest after screaming her head off looking for me. My husband said he’s never heard her cry like that. I felt horrible about it. Really, I did.
At the same time, I haven’t been to karate in three weeks. I needed to go and have some one-on-one time; and it was glorious. I savored every second, even when my instructor was contorting my arms into extremely uncomfortable positions to demonstrate yet another way to get out of a choke hold.
Official testing is in the morning, but unless Lil C has a miraculous recovery, I’m not going to make it. Tonight, while practicing, my instructor told me that I have passed, so if I don’t make official testing tomorrow it’s not a big deal. I will be promoted next week with everyone else. I’m just going to go in before my regular class and run through the kata’s as a formality one more time. 4th kyu. . . three brown stripes on my green belt. When the stripe goes on the belt, I will be over the hump. I will be closer to black belt than I am to white. Next time I test, I will earn my brown belt. So cool.
The best thing about tonight is that after a couple run throughs on my weapons kata, and after coming home and running through it a few more times, I am able to do it well and with confidence. My open hand kata is in great shape as well. The last time I tested, I felt I didn’t deserve the promotion. I felt I passed by the skin of my teeth. I felt like they had given me a gift. I don’t like feeling like that. This time I don’t. I’ve earned it; I know my stuff.
Next week I start looking forward towards 3rd kyu and the material I need to learn. . .
Tonight I’m just going to take care of my baby (who will be up every hour on the hour I’m sure), and pray that Big I is spared this crazy summer flu.
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