homefree

word of my aunt's passing spread like wildfire through my mom's family as news generally does, across miles, across countries, across the pacific.  but this time it was different.  it wasn't another wedding, or baby, or successful business venture.  it wasn't anything to congratulate anyone about.  it wasn't even anything to smile about.  it was simply very sad.

i called my mom, and she was her usual pragmatic self when it comes to these situations, plans to fly back to taiwan already set in motion.  i found myself listening to her reflect upon the last 30 hours of my aunt's life, and the last time she spoke to her sister which actually was while she was in the recovery room with me.  i hadn't realized at the time that the phonecall she had received was from her brother who was with my aunt in the hospital.  i was grateful that my mom had had that precious, precious time with her, even though my aunt had been unable to cognitively respond.

though news of her diagnosis only came a week ago and the prognosis was not good, i was still surprised by how quickly the disease had progressed.  how quickly she was gone.  it was like before i had the chance to even fully understand the magnitude of the situation, it was already too late.

unfortunately, with me growing up in the u.s. and my aunt living overseas, i never really had the chance to know her.  the last time i saw her, thankfully, was my visit to taiwan a couple of years ago, and she embraced my husband and me, using the little bit of english she knew.  though she has been unwell most of my life and sadly most of hers, she found a way to make us smile, just happy we were there and happy she could see us.  and that is how i'll remember her.

i also hold another memory close, not of mine, but of my mom's.  she spoke fondly of my aunt, saying that when they were growing up that she was so carefree, uncaring of what others thought of her, always going with the flow.  and so, my dear aunt, i'm happy you are free again, no longer suffering, and smiling down upon our family where you are.

may you rest in peace always.

our tradition

"Our Tradition”

Thanksgiving 2011

For our family, Thanksgiving has always been the “it” holiday, even bigger than Christmas or New Years.  I wonder how this came about and all I’ve come up with is that we used to always travel for the holidays, spreading our time between relatives in Chicago and New York, enjoying the festivities that each metropolis would offer.  Come January we’d often find ourselves still packed and ready to go, facing a new year like it was another trip on the road, not quite settled before it was time to go again.  So maybe Thanksgiving simply felt like home, loyal and steadfast, a testament to us like it was ours.

After my sisters and I had left for college, my mom would always make sure to pull us back for Thanksgiving, eager to cement our plans before fall semester had concluded.  “When are you coming home?” “What should Dad and I make?” “Have you heard from your sisters?”  She would be excited to see us, our hustling, bustling family under one roof again.  Over the years, the questions are still the same and the warmth in her voice carries me all the way back to New Jersey.

This year, my mother has organized a party like no other.  I can imagine the scene now: My sisters and I in the warm kitchen (since my dad will already have something in the oven or on the stovetop) clamoring around while we wait for mom, always fashionably late, to wake from her nap.  The husbands will be undoubtedly hovering, picking at this and that while we shoo them away to watch TV.  At some point, my aunt will flurry in with her daughters and grandbaby in tow, enough of a commotion for my mom to make an appearance.  Then more cousins, complete with a chattering pair of kids, and my husband’s family, my in-laws with their arms full of food and cookies.  There will be commotion and laughs and hugs and the lingering scent of dinner, and before we know it one of my cousins will ask, “When are we eating?” and somehow we’ll squeeze the lot of us around two long tables, the piano bench serving as a couple of chairs.

For me, this is the kind of scene I look forward to each year.  Sometimes minor details will change, like what we’re cooking or the number of people showing up, but overall I can count on our togetherness.  I can count on the noise.  I can count on the stories shared and the elation felt and the promise to do it again, and soon.  Every Thanksgiving, I can count on all of you.

Dad, this was a big birthday year for you and all the more reason to celebrate.  In the thirty years I’ve had with you, you’ve shaped me in so many ways; I’ve noticed this in the most elementary practices in my life.  Thank you for your kind heart, quiet strength, and the appreciative manner in which you lead our family.  You have the ability to teach me something without my even knowing it; sometimes the advice you’ve given resonates much later, but you’ve provided me with the tools and clarity to find my way.

Mom, my fearless momma, always the strong one.  I will never forget how frightening it was for us when you were first diagnosed, then decided on surgery.  You handled each step from your operation through recovery with optimism and faith.  These days, you’re still one of the first people I call when I’m faced with a difficult situation, knowing that you’ll be there on the other end of the line with honesty and conviction.  You are my biggest advocate.

Rach, my little sister, a married woman!  It was amazing to stand with you at the altar on your wedding day, witnessing you exchange vows with your new husband.  What a blessing it is that you have found your better half, the person who completes you.  It’s humbling to see you grow into the next stage of your life: the role of devoted wife (and adventurous cook)!

Sarah, a college grad.  It was surreal attending your graduation ceremony, watching you walk across the stage to receive your diploma.  I am so very proud of you.  I’m glad you come to me to talk things out about the incredible responsibility you feel and struggles you face as a student teacher.  You do noble, giving work, and there is no one better suited for it than you.

John, welcome to the family!  I’m thankful that you’re around.  I’ve realized now that you will forever be finding something to fix or improve, taking care of business as you do with everything.  You look out for the family with a willing, generous spirit, keeping those you care about top of mind.

Anthony, my best friend, my comfort.  I am lucky not only to have an unwavering supporter, but someone who challenges me every day.  In your arms, I am safe; in your eyes, I am cherished.  You constantly show me that we can make it through anything, large or small, as long as we rely on one another, as long as we’re together.

Dad (Rediger), thank you for your considerate regard for both Anthony and me.  Without question, you consistently have our best interest at heart, whether it is packing up food for us after a visit or bringing the truck around so that we can go “shopping.”  Every plant or flower you have personally added to our garden is done carefully and thoughtfully.  Thank you for enriching our lives.

Mom (Rediger), our one-of-a-kind supermom!  If you discovered one of us in need, you would drop everything or do anything in your power to absolve us of our troubles.  It is exemplary of the gracious, inherently good, admirable person you are.  Thank you for everything you do, donating time and energy and a listening ear.

Jana, my partner in crime.  Thank you for always being there for me.  I know that you will laugh with me but cry with me too; we’re a natural pair, so whatever I feel, you feel.  Thank you for working at our relationship and keeping us connected.  I truly enjoy our little messages throughout the day!

Nan, here’s to a wise, remarkable woman.  I love hearing you tell your stories with expressive candor and ease, transporting us back into another time and place.  Your vitality is channeled through your ever-growing family, which is reflected right back at you.

To my family – this year, I thank you for tradition, our tradition, I can count on.

“Traditions are not for keeping.  They’re for keeping us together.”  –Hallmark commercial

shore tour

today nan took us (with our parents) on a tour of the northern NJ shore.  we started out at the mount mitchell scenic overlook, the highest natural elevation on the atlantic seaboard, providing amazing views of sandy hook and NYC.  then we visited the twin lights, learned about the invention of the fresnel lens, and climbed up the south tower for another overhead look.  we rounded up the tour at fort hancock, a peak inside the lighthouse, a walk through the mortar battery, and a drive past the barracks.  we were blessed with great weather, so time passed unnoticed. 

i like seeing the easy relationship and friendly conversations that pass between both sets of parents and nan.  i really have my mom to thank for that.  we're lucky to have such a close-knit extended family, and i say 'lucky' because i know it's not always the same for others.

"the love of a family is life's greatest blessing."  --unknown

view of sandy hook from mount mitchell scenic overlook

nyc skyline

original fresnel lens used in the twin lights lighthouse

view from atop the south tower of the twin lights

fort hancock lighthouse



matters of the heart

the heart walk is tomorrow, and as my company leader and member of the local AHA heart walk committee this year, i have a million things running through my head. did team members get their t-shirts in time? does everyone know about our meeting time and place? have i validated my donation records with the website totals? i've counted and recounted the cash and checks we received from our last fundraiser this week, still determined to hit our goal.

yesterday afternoon, i received word that i was needed as a photographer for the event, so now on top of everything else that has to be done in the morning the very minute i get there (registration; donation submission; material distribution; rounding up my family and the group/counting heads; making sure everyone's in line for the team photo, not to mention figuring out how i'm going to jump into my own team photo; all of which occurs before the walk itself!), i will now be required to arrive even earlier than scheduled, and did i mention i'm not a morning person?

luckily, i have help (which i graciously "volunteered" my husband and wonderful committee members for), and i just have to keep reminding myself that this is all for an amazing cause. and to breathe, too.

this year, our committee came up with the idea to invite members of the team to share their story, in order to connect the event and the cause to our company on a more personal level. our local AHA always features a 'face of heart' to represent the walk each year, so we took that idea and expanded it. the stories that have come out of these segments are extraordinary and incredibly moving (as in, i cried when i read all of them). so i think now would be a good time to mention how i become involved with the heart walk and why i do what i do.

it all started in april of 2009. i was on a trip with my best friend in london. we were in a pub enjoying some great food and loud music when i received a call from my husband. almost instantly i knew something was wrong... he wouldn't have called unless it was for an emergency, because of international roaming fees and all. my husband's voice had an edge to it, and i had to pull myself into the street to hear him and then take a few moments to acclimate myself, match my not-so-serious atmosphere to his much-too-serious tone.
 

"my dad is in the hospital," he said.

"is he okay?" i asked, stupidly. how else do you respond to that, though?

"he went in with tachycardia."

"is that when your heart beats too fast?"

"yeah."

and that is what started it all.

after he filled me in on the details of my father-in-law's condition, i never felt further away from my husband than i did in that moment. i could have been a million miles away. i was helpless, wanting to be there for him, wanting immensely to hold him and tell him things would be okay. but would they? there was no way of knowing.

a couple of days later, i was on a plane back home, and then picked up and driven straight to the hospital, fatigued and jetlagged. but i would grow more weary after my visit. there's something disconcerting about seeing a parent in a hospital bed, someone who you assume is healthy and strong, built solid, in a generic gown. it stirred something within me; i had never even taken the time to contemplate heart disease or stroke or other heart-related conditions since i was so focused on other killers (based on family history), like cancer. but that is always the way, isn't it... to be ignorant and unaware until something happens, forces you to wake up, like a slap in the face.

my FIL underwent 2 procedures to pinpoint his arrhythmias. the first was a femoral catheterization to check for blockages (and luckily there were none). next he had a cardiac ablation which appeared to fix his heart flutter. he was kept in the hospital for more tests and closely monitored. with each new test or procedure, there seemed to be another problem to fix. the whole experience was frightening and difficult, and all we could do was wait. finally, it was determined that he had atrial fibrillation and this would be managed with medications.

not even a week later, my company announced that we would be participating in the heart walk that year. i immediately signed up as a team captain, which by the next year had morphed into the company leader, and now in my third year of being involved, i also volunteer as a member of the official heart walk committee which plans the entire event.

tomorrow is the first time that my FIL will actually be walking with us, and i couldn't be happier. this is why the cause is so close to my heart, literally. i will be walking for him and all my coworkers and their families with their incredible survival stories, and for everyone affected in some way by cardiovascular disease.

after the storm

well, we survived hurricane irene with little to no damage, except for some windblown plants in the yard (and me feeling alittle stir-crazy because i've been limited to the couch and bed in a reclining position, since that's all my back can take).  there wasn't a drip of water in the basement, and the power must have gone out sometime after 2 p.m. but come right back on, since my bedside clock was blinking this morning.  (interestingly, the power had gone out pre-hurricane on friday morning and stayed out longer and been more of a hindrance -- i had to manually open and close the garage door to even leave the house -- than apparently the hurricane had been).  so overall, i have no complaints.

several of my friends though, were not as lucky.  i've heard of a number of basements flooding and power outages throughout our area -- my parents' included.  and speaking of my parents, they had a rough night themselves when they were stuck in knee-high deep rain and the car flooded.  luckily, emergency services responded quickly and escorted them home.  the only thing which didn't pull through was the car.

the other thing going on this weekend are my in-laws' birthdays.  today's my MIL's birthday, and since we could not see her, we sang happy birthday to her over the phone.  she and my FIL were over the house yesterday to celebrate, since it was his birthday (yesterday).  it was nice to be able to treat them to lunch since they're usually the ones cooking for us.  i liked that they could sit and relax while my husband and i busied ourselves in the kitchen.  they deserve time for themselves since they're the hardest working people i know, although they're always doing stuff for others.

if there is one thing i could wish for them both -- it would be for a sense of peace, much like the calm after a storm.

matriarch

happy birthday nan!

i didn't have the privilege of really knowing my grandparents on either side, since they passed when i was a child, or even before i was born.  i say 'privilege' because it really is an honor to have someone in my life who is filled with love and warmth and wisdom and stories i could listen to over and over again.

so to show how much we care for my husband's grandmother, i put together a photobook from the family.

here's the link to the birthday album:

http://share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=0Acs2LRk1YtWLCHA

nan, wishing you many, many more birthdays to come.

tradition

we're on the road again, the dotted lines and tail lights guiding us to the same destination as the year before it.  the smell of the ocean mixed with sand is already beckoning through the darkness, and i can almost feel the warm breeze against my face, knowing that it will be warm if i were to open the window, even at this time of night.

the mile markers count up, and we have reached ocean county.  it won't be long now before we cross the bridge to the island, the familiar strip of lights and people and action, separated by 30 some-odd stoplights as we haltingly make it to the old beach house.  there, we have the promise of a dreamy slumber, to be awakened by the rustling and aroma of life in the morning -- breakfast on the stove, chairs pulled to the table, forks on their respective plates, the TV bellowing some kind of sport.  laughter and hugs, pleasantries exchanged, plans for the day. 

there, we have the promise of family.

ESP

the weirdest thing happened to me this afternoon.  it had been a typical day so far, no major items to report.  i was sitting at my desk at work and my mind suddenly wrapped around the phrase, "God is good."  i wasn't praying; i wasn't thinking about much of anything (except for the e-mail i was writing), but this phrase kept popping up, almost like a chant.  i thought, yes, it's true, God is good.  despite my troubles, namely those as of late, my life is blessed.  i have no complaints.  this thought was comforting; i even smiled.

a buzz woke me from my reverie.  it was my phone.  a text from my sister.  she explained that her and my mom had been in a head-on collision and the car was totalled.  they were both okay and were in the ER getting checked out.

i called immediately and my sister's voice on the other end was subdued.  she said the car that hit them literally came out of nowhere.  i asked if the airbags had deployed, and she said yes.  she still sounded a bit shell-shocked.

my mom got on the phone next.  the first words out of her mouth were that if she hadn't had airbags, she was sure she'd be dead.  and my sister too.  i asked her if they both had had their seatbelts on.  she said of course, and mentioned how we had just been discussing seatbelts and airbags only 2 days ago.

on saturday, anthony and i ran into the store manager of a discount grocery store we frequent at a farmer's market.  she has become a friend of the family over the years so we were catching up.  somehow our conversation moved to the topic of seatbelts.  she admitted that she didn't wear hers anymore because she had been in a bad accident years before where the force from the airbag deploying had caused her seatbelt to hit her in the face.  my husband and i both pointed out that the reason she probably was standing there today was most likely due in part to the seatbelt, so it was silly not to wear it for that reason.

we saw my parents shortly after that meeting, and i mentioned the seatbelt debate to them.  we discussed our feelings on the subject (wear your seatbelt!), started talking about airbags, and moved on to other topics.

it's a strange coincidence that we had just been conversing about the very things that came into play a couple days later.  believe what you want, but that was a sure sign to me.

and what can explain the "God is good" chorus in my head?  maybe ESP.  i wouldn't be surprised if my sister and mom were both thinking that after their accident.  and somehow, across the miles, i could hear them.

circle of trust

my mom, being the planner that she is, likes to coordinate family get-togethers.  i am not just talking about immediate family though.  after only a few months of dating my husband, she asked if she could meet his parents.  my husband said sure, after we'd be dating a year.  and in true form, right after our one-year anniversary, she asked to set it up, and we (somewhat hesitantly) agreed.

soon afterward, there was a meeting arranged for our families, this time with our sisters involved.  it wasn't long before our parents started alternating when to take the other set out, and as my husband and i moved forward with our relationship, so did our families in theirs.

these days, my parents and his parents (and his grandmother) will plan dinners or outings together, sometimes without us.  they'll exchange presents for holidays and birthdays, call and e-mail each other.  in fact, one time my husband and i were over his parents when my mom's number popped up on the caller ID.  the funny thing was that she didn't even know we were there at the time.  and recently, we met my family for lunch, not knowing that my husband's grandmother would be there, but pleasantly surprised that she was.

i know this is not really typical for in-law families to be as close as we are, just based on hearing the stories my friends and coworkers tell me about.  they feel lucky if they even get along with their in-laws, let alone their in-laws' families.

so our families have become a solid unit, a tight-knit family.  if something happens to my sister, my SIL will know, and vice versa.  if something happens to one of my parents, my in-laws will be there.  and vice versa.

i remember when my husband and i had reached the one-year mark, and our reluctance to have our parents meet.  it wasn't that we weren't committed or that we didn't see a future.  it was alittle bit of fear, alittle bit of uncertainty.  alittle bit of worry if things didn't turn out like we hoped.  but my mom felt none of that.  she wasn't fearful or uncertain, and the only anxiety she had was probably about the family i would one day be marrying into, which is why she did what she did.

sometimes i don't give my mom enough credit.  but i have her to thank for this, because this bond, this closeness we have would not be present today without her and that first meeting years ago.

firework

happy 4th of july!

can the 4th ever be complete without fireworks?  the neighbor kids have been setting off fireworks for the past couple of days, so a particular story comes to mind.

my cousin lived with us in our old house for some time when we were little, so he was like the big brother we never had.  one 4th of july, he got it in his head that he'd purchase fireworks and shoot them off our driveway.  as kids, we were crazy excited about this idea.  my mom, not so much.  she thought it was reckless and dangerous.  he promised he'd be careful, and so we gathered outside to let him do his thing.

imagine a quiet suburb suddenly disturbed by the pop and crackle of fireworks.  we were delighted, watching the colors burst in the sky.  my mom even seemed okay with it, until my cousin accidentally burned a piece of the driveway, and that was quickly the end of it.

afterwards, every time i saw that dent in the driveway, it reminded me of that night and the fun we had.  i think my parents finally had the driveway resurfaced at some point, but the memory can not be extinguished.

beach bummed

my parents were set on taking us to the beach today, although we weren't really up for it.  but we obediently packed ourselves in the van for a 50-minute car ride from their house.  upon arrival, we were greeted by an overcast sky, the mist so enveloping it was like standing in a massive gray cloud.  my parents methodically unpacked the beach chairs and started for the sand while my sister and i (and our husbands) tentatively followed, not in much of a mood to be where we were but appeasing them nonetheless.  as we made our way toward the water, droplets of rain started falling.  this didn't discourage either of my parents though.  they were jovial and laughing, all of us kids wondering how they could be having such a great time in such miserable weather.  as soon as we put our chairs down, they headed to the waves hand in hand, dipping their feet in the ocean.  mere minutes later, it started raining harder and the lifeguards kicked us off the beach.  we had probably been there no more than 10 minutes before having to head back home, since there wasn't much to do in a shore town in the rain.

during the car ride home, the sky dried up and the sun even poked through.  we joked about how funny it was that we traveled nearly an hour each way to visit the beach for about 5 minutes.  it was an event so typical of my parents, and we had agreed to tag along since we were doing it for them.

what i've realized as i'm writing this is that they were in fact doing it for us; planning this day trip to the beach, putting on a happy face once we got there, despite the crappy weather.  making our day enjoyable and memorable.

and i've also decided that by having just a glimpse of how happy it made them to have us there together, i would go to the beach with them on a rainy day any day.

recreation/re-creation

this afternoon, my sisters and i (along with our respective husbands, which still sounds alittle funny and odd to say), went on a bike ride with our dad at the local park.  i was trying to remember the last time we'd ridden our bikes as a family, and it must have been when i was in high school and we were all still under the same roof.

the park by my parents' house wasn't always there.  it used to be a massive field that was across the street from our old house.  it was so neglected and overrun with grass and weeds that it reminded me of a wheat field.  it could have actually been one, but i can't be sure.  the middle sister and i would walk over there to play, much shorter than the growth, getting lost in the land.  sometimes we would test how far we could go before one of us chickened out (more likely to be me) and we'd turn around towards home.  a few times we saw deer, and i remember twice we discovered a buck.

when we found out about the plans for the park, we couldn't wait.  it took a couple years to develop, and i still remember the first few times we went after it was officially open, how new and fresh it looked, the black pavement of paths undiscovered.  one summer i'd get up early (a true feat) to go jogging with my dad.  we would often go at night too, with just the sounds of the crickets and our sneakered feet hitting the ground in rhythm.

the middle sister and i loved to bring our bikes too.  there was an entrance to the park right across the street, so we'd pedal over and hook onto a larger loop that brought us to a bridge that spanned over a creek.  that was the best area for honeysuckle; even to this day i could smell the sweet scent as i rode by.  there is still wildlife around (today we spotted a groundhog), and back then, we would still see the deer.  i remember one particular time when we tried to catch up to a one as we raced down a hill.  we couldn't, of course, but it was still fun trying.

there is also another memory i particularly like.  on the last night (or so we thought) before we moved, my sister and i snuck out of the house to the park.  there, on the swingsets, we said our goodbyes to our town and talked about how much we would miss the place we had come to know so well.

it's a wonderful feeling to be able to come back to a place that holds so many fond memories, and to share it with the same people who helped create them in the first place.