Archives for January 2009

So, to be fair, there is a level that goes deeper than shopping between me and my sister Malia.

Being that she’s only three years older than me, she was the sister I “grew up” with the most. And even though for awhile we fought like cats and dogs…I still always wished I could be like her. Once she grew out of the angry stage that is. (wink wink, Malia.)

When we were teenagers and she had her room decorated all country and matchy matchy, I had envy. And when she worked hard in the mornings to puff her perm and perfectly tease her bangs, I adoringly watched on.

And now that we’re older I have even more to learn from her. She’s an amazing mom, a hard worker, and a sweet and thoughtful friend and sister. In her tribute I talk about just why she is so special. Read here for more.

Malia’s always been ahead of her years, and she really is a wealth of knowledge and wisdom. For example, here are just a few of the many nuggets that have stuck with me in the two days since she’s been gone.

***I need to take down the door hanger on the front door that says, “Shhh, Taylor is sleeping.” Because a stranger could walk up to the door and say, “Hey Taylor, open up.” And my sweet trusting son would open up, and then forever be gone. (Although, I begged to differ by saying they would bring him back just minutes later.)***

My son and I have since had quite a few conversations about not talking to strangers, opening the door without mommy’s permission, or ever leaving mommy’s sight because bad people could take you away. Basically I instilled the same fear of God in my son that my sister put in me.***

***When applying night cream, don’t rub it into your entire hand. Instead just apply with your fingertips so that you don’t waste the product on your palms. (This may be the reason my palms have less fine lines and wrinkles than my face.)***

***The best sheets are Charter Club brand found at Macy’s. Expensive, but worth the cost. And they don’t pill.***

***Tomatoes last longer when they’re not in the fridge.***

***I even learned a new way to load Chloe’s bottles in the dishwasher so that it’s easier to put away when they’re clean.***

But then there is some wisdom you just don’t need to learn from a sister, because life has a way of having already taught it to you.

The biggest one being:

***Don’t go to a Yoga class a month or even three after having a baby. *Some of you will get this, some of you may not. But trust me, it’s not a good idea.****

P.S. The title of this post…did you get it? It’s a play on “Tuesdays with Morrie.” Wise man, wise sister. Get it now? 😉

© 2009 “Le Musings of Moi”

This is the song I want played at my memorial. This is the Legacy I want to leave behind. This is the story I want told when I get to heaven one day.

Between my dad’s and my grandpa’s story, I will never be the same. I will never look at life quite as flippantly as I once did. Sometimes though, such as recently, I get wrapped up in myself and I forget. This is exactly why I chose to revisit and share this particular story of my dad.

In my marriage, as a parent and a friend, and even as a writer….all I desire is to make a difference. If even to only one person.

Then my Legacy will be complete.

© 2009 “Le Musings of Moi”

As the service began, the pastor shared the story of my dad’s life and then opened the floor for anyone to recall his or her own memories. My heart smiled, and the tears fell, as I watched a line form out the door. For more than an hour, each person came forward telling a tale filled with absolute respect, honor, and love for a man I had always been proud to call dad. Each story told of how he listened, how he cared, how he helped, how he went out of his way, and how their lives were changed because of him. It felt like a movie as the time passed, and the line only continued to grow.

Suddenly it wasn’t about his mistakes anymore. It was about his love. The same love that had kept me going, kept me believing that true love existed, had also changed so many people’s lives as well. My dad had done what he was sent here to do: to give others hope, and to make them feel loved. And now, his heart and soul were at rest in a place where it was now his turn to receive the unconditional love he had been waiting for all his life. My dad had always wanted to be loved and accepted, and on this day, his hopes came true.

I know my dad had to have been looking out for me, and must have known I had continued to hope mostly because of his acceptance and love in my life. He had to know I needed someone to love me in the same way, so completely and unconditionally. I know this because not long after he passed away, I met Jimmy, someone who had the exact tender heart as my dad. Every loving quality my dad possessed, Jimmy possessed as well. I fell in love, and this time when I gave my heart and soul, I received his in return. I had finally found someone who would love me unconditionally, just the way my dad did.

One year later, on the exact day of my dad’s death, Jimmy and I were married. I chose that particular day, because I knew that not only was my husband God’s gift, but he was my dad’s gift to me as well. We lit a candle in memory of him, and held the reception in a place that was close to his heart. I know he was celebrating with us on that amazing day.

It took a lot of patience, forgiveness, and understanding to continually love my dad the way I tried to over the years. But, I am so thankful for the relationship we shared. No matter how many miles were between us, our hearts and souls always remained close. Without the example of him and his life, I would have never understood what it means to truly love unconditionally. This is not to say that I stop hoping or praying for better for the lives of those I love, because I always do, and I always will. It is to say, however, that I have learned to love others exactly where they are at any moment in their life.

If only I knew then what I know now, I would have told the sobbing boy on the phone that night, exactly what he needed to hear. I would have shared with him all the hearts and souls that would be changed because of his love and acceptance. I would have told him it was especially “daddy’s little girl,” whose heart and soul would never again be the same. What an incredible legacy to leave behind.

A Legacy of Love.

© 2009 “Le Musings of Moi”

Suddenly, a stream of bad luck seemed to strike my dads life. His dad fell ill, and he had to watch his own father die slowly before his very eyes. In the midst of dealing with this, he began to experience extreme complications due to his childhood polio. The doctors put him on painkillers, and asked him to take a leave of absence from work so they could run more tests and studies on his disease. While tending to his pain, both emotionally and physically, things only continued to get worse. Carol had disappeared on a three-day binge, and during this binge, stole his car and wrecked it. This resulted in having to bail her out of jail yet once again. All this happened not long after he had just paid her way through rehab.

One night, my dad called me in tears. He had reached his breaking point. Sobbing like a child, he began to pour out his heart in a way I had never heard him do before. For two hours, I listened to what sounded like a little boy crying his heart out, needing so desperately for someone to love him. He wept and apologized over and over again for all his mistakes as a dad, and shared his brokenness about feeling like nobody would ever love him the way he desired to be loved. He shared how he felt so alone, and how he had always just wanted to be loved.

That night, I began to understand not only my dad, but myself as well. We had been giving the love to others that we so desperately needed for ourselves. More than I wanted that love for me, I realized I needed it for him.

About a year after this phone call, I received another call that would forever change my life. This time it was my mom telling me that my dad’s body had been found on the side of the road. He had fallen and died of his first and only heart attack. I was devastated and numb. I screamed and sobbed for hours upon hours. My heart hurt more than it ever had. Once again my daddy had left me, and this time he wasn’t coming back. I had lost the only man who had ever truly loved me.

In the days that followed my dad’s death, I began to find out more about how sad his life had really been. With each detail, my heart would crumble into more pieces than I thought possible. Though he promised his marriage to Carol was over, the truth was, he had never even filed for divorce.

When he collapsed, he had just left his latest “replacement” girlfriends house after finding out that she too was cheating on him. His home was in shambles, and there were boxes and boxes of unopened mail and bills. His debts were enormous, and creditors were after him. The worst part was that he had never written a will or changed his beneficiary, and since he was still legally married to Carol, every possession and every dollar of life insurance and retirement was left to his estranged drug addicted wife. The responsibility to pay for his funeral and his debt though, conveniently fell into mine and my sisters laps instead. Besides his bills and debt, my sisters and I were left with only memories of our dad.

For once in my life, I allowed myself to be really angry with him. How could he have left us with such a mess? And why had he lied to me, someone who loved and accepted him no matter what? I felt so betrayed.

My hurt and anger held firm until the day of my dad’s funeral. But, as I walked into the chapel, my heart softened at what I saw. The room was absolutely filled. Every seat was taken, and there were people taken to standing in the back. As I looked around, I noticed that a wide variety of people had come to pay respects. The homeless, the mentally challenged, the physically disabled, fellow workers young and old, ex-wives, ex-“projects,” and old family friends had found a way (or should I say a bus?) to come and say goodbye. I realized, as I observed the crowd, how truly soft hearted my dad had been. He had invited into his life every person who needed love and had instead been rejected by society. He never judged, never critiqued. He only loved and accepted people just as they were. It was amazing to see how his love had touched so many people.

© 2009 “Le Musings of Moi”