Oh, Hello.

I just packed up Christmas at our house. Say what? Yes. It’s nearly the end of January and today was the only day I found time to box up the tree, the family of snowmen, stockings and ornaments. Back in the box. Back in the garage. It’s not all the product of procrastination either. The variables that factor into this delay include an appendectomy, a stroke, emergency rooms, a mistaken and mindless comment from a a clueless ER doctor stating the presence of metastatic prostate cancer, a pandemic of hypertension among family members, and a daughter who has now entered the Cling-on phase. All she does is cry out for me the second I put her down or leave the room for a nano second; and may I just say that this girl’s crying voice is of the disarming variety.  All these and a tumultuous uproar of emotional (personal) noise. Some issues at hand that make me want to: A. Seek therapy.   B. Meet up with an old flame - the cigarette (which I probably won’t because it’s too much of a hassle to quit - again). C. Be a porker and shove an entire box of chocolate covered macadamia nuts in my mouth.  When the ship you’re sailing is rocked, finding one’s bearings is seemingly dim. Eventually the day breaks and calm waters do ensue but until then or at least for now I’m just coming up for air. 

That’s what I wrote last night. This morning I woke up feeling like myself again and not the the growling monster I went to bed as. It felt peaceful waking up next to Mandarin this morning and seeing her so easeful and calm gave me the serenity to get over the occasional stress of motherhood. My palm still perfectly fits the side of her face just like it does with my hubby’s face and I find it meaningful that the emancipation - the mere act of opening one’s hands begets forgiveness and receives it just the same. All while being open to all the good  that we forget is always there. I want to take this moment of clarity and put it in a locket to take with me anywhere I go as a constant reminder of hope.

January keeps trying to knock me down, but I’m still standing. And all I have to say to that is: Yes. Thank you. More please.  I’ll be ready, February. 

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Friday Five: Five

1. Good morning, Sunshine. ♥

2. Tori Amos Night of Hunters Tour at the Paramount Theater (Oakland). Easily one of the most phenomenal shows I've ever attended. 

3. Teething. Bites. 

4. We rocked Holiday pancakes! 

5. Changing Lights at American Cupcake!

Happy Weekend! 

♥♥♥

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A New Year.

Not exactly my idea of a celebratory new year's eve - and day.

Lunch and Dinner of watered down coffee and a cold PB & J sandwich c/o the hospital vending machine because the cafe was conveniently closed on weekends.
The Kindle never fails to entertain. 

It came out of nowhere. The sharp pain in his abdomen that shortly followed our Skype calls with family in Manila. It was twenty minutes to midnight there and almost eight in the morning here. The fog had just barely lifted and the sun was slow and steady in its waking. It was a peaceful and reflective start to the last day of the year.  

I made breakfast (festive holiday pancakes of snowmen and christmas trees) carefully scaling down my recipe to accomodate only two servings instead of the usual four. Leftover pancakes are no good. Hubby couldn't eat, writhed in pain and decided to head back upstairs to sleep it off. What we initially thought was the stomach flu, indigestion, and at some point a urinary track infection turned out to be appendicitis. Too see someone you love in pain is pain inflicted on yourself just the same. Of course it took 17 hours before we figured this out and finally decided that the ER was the best place to be. Blood tests, a CT scan and the best indicator yet - a hand poking around the abdomen to make you feel, Yeah, that's an inflamed appendix you got there. 

This is all new territory for both of us. He's never been hospitalized before, and I've never seen him so helpless in all our 15 years together. It was difficult being in the waiting room alone. There was literally no one there with me except crickets, possibly a tumbleweed rolling across the filthy hospital carpet with dust trailing behind it and my racing thoughts of worst-case-scenarios. The procedure which only took a little over an hour seemed like a five hour wait. I get nervous like that. I paced around the hallway wondering which door my Hubbs would come out of that I unknowingly and conveniently hung around long enough just in time for a middle aged nurse with a warm smile to come out and call my last name. 

"The doctor will be out to speak with you." 

She's smiling so it must have gone well. Look at her eyes. Smiling. Good. 

A few seconds later, the doctor walked out the thick swing doors like a rockstar strutting back on stage for her encore performance. Confident and happy. She actually took a picture of Hubbs' appendix and graciously shared it with me - I would have set it nicely on Instagram and shared, but knew better that vintage looking filters still won't amp the cool factor of an inflamed internal organ.  An appendectomy is a standard hospital procedure, not exactly your hardcore medical variety, and hundreds of it are probably performed everyday, but there is still a very short percentage of things going wrong in the operating room. I was so relieved when the nurse walked out smiling.     

Now that we've all taken a breath and it's all recuperation and recovery from this point on, I must admit that celebrations are in order.  Sometimes we are faced with situations that run against what we believe is how things should be, such as, this is how a holiday should be spent and that everything else that contradicts that would be considered a cessation of all things good and happy. 

This was not my idea of a celebratory start button for the year, but it was a damn good way of making the essential things come into view, setting the tone for the months ahead. To be thankful for life and to celebrate it in every possible way I can. Thankful for family (who would take care of your daughter, no questions asked - in spite of exhaustion and sleep deprivation, who will  pick you up, drop you off, and bring things to the hospital for you when you need them).  Thankful for excellent doctors and wonderful nurses. Thankful for friends who sincerely care about you. 

This new year brought an alternate view to celebration. There is much more to applaud and commemorate in it that than a silver, shiny ball dropping at midnight and the clink of champagne glasses. 

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