As I'm leaving for Norway tomorrow, and I will be there until Sunday, I feel compelled to write something that I have been giving a great deal of consideration for a long time now.
Dear Daddy,
On Saturday, November 21st, 2009 at 5:05 pm (Eastern Standard Time) it will be twelve years since you lost your battle with cancer. It will be twelve years since my big, strong, courageous Daddy gave up his last breath. Sometimes it feel like you took me with you when you went. Sometimes it feel like I can't even go on another minute for the sadness of the whole thing. And then I remember how badly you wanted to live, how desperately you loved life, and clung to it with every fiber of your being.
Life was a gift for you. You never took it for granted, even before you were diagnosed with cancer. I remember when you scooped the little baby cardinal out of the pool one summer and cradled it and quickly fashioned a make-shift nest to stow in the pine trees so that its mom would her it calling to her and she would come rescue it. You had such respect for life, and such an understanding of nature. I miss playing basketball with you, when you would lift me up so high so that I could make a dunk. I remember the time you let me ride my bike by myself on the sidewalk around the neighbourhood for the first time, but you had to drive alongside me the whole way. Some woman pulled over and asked me if you were bothering me and I casually replied "no, that's just my dad."
I loved everything about you, your thinning grey hair, your blue-yellow eyes, your bright smile. You were all legs, just about the tallest man I've ever met in my life. It doesn't seem fair that cancer could come and steal such a healthy and wonderful person.
I was in the flower garden on the side of the house when you told me you were sick. The tulips had just come in and the air was fresh and rich with spring. We had just moved to the new house, it didn't seem fair that you should get sick.
I remember being in the kitchen, many months later, when mom told me you were dying. No one ever candy-coated the issue for me, no one ever treated me like a child. I would go up to your bedroom every day after school and lay with you and Candy, reading or watching videos or just talking. I was so scared to let you out of my sight.
When you went to the palliative care unit at Hartford Hospital, we all knew you were very near the end. Ducky and Candy took it the hardest, they loved you so much. Ducky died within a week of you, she couldn't bear to live in a world without you. I know Ducky is curled up on your shoulder, I bet you can hardly get the darn cat off of you. It took Candy eight years to follow you home, but I know she's sprawled out across your lap right now, like any giant overfed black lab.
It's a lot easier to pretend like it doesn't hurt that you died, as I imagine it's easier to pretend that a lot of things in life don't hurt. But it does hurt that you died. It hurts every single day of my life. It hurts every single day of mom's life. It hurts every single day of Becky's life. We miss you so much.
Twelve years is too long for a daddy to be away from the people who love him. But I know that someday, when it's our time, we'll all be together again, and there won't be pain or fear. There will just be boundless love and happiness.
I'm blessed to have had a father who loved me more than the sun the moon and the stars. I'm extremely blessed to have had two parents who loved each other more than oxygen, and loved their child with every fiber of their beings. I'm equally blessed to rest easy knowing that my mother and father will love each other into eternity, and my parents loved me and wanted me. I only wish that my daddy could have been there to see me walk across the stage at graduation. I wish you could have been there to give me flowers when I performed in orchestra concerts and competitions. I wish you had been there to carry me home when I broke my arm (roller-blading on the ice) when I was ten. I wish you had been there on my sixteenth birthday to hand me the card you had made and the beautiful pearl necklace you made sure to get for me before you passed away. More than anything I wish you were there when your three beautiful grandchildren came into this world. I wish you could carry them on your shoulders, cradle them gently in your strong arms, walk with them wrapped around your legs.
Life would be so different if you were alive today daddy, who knows if it would be different for the best or for the worst. I often say "I would not give just anything to see my daddy again," but the older I get, the more I believe that to be a lie. I would give anything to see you again, to smell you, to hug you, to hold your hand.
My last memory of you alive is curling up alongside you in your hospital bed, two nights before you died. We both fell asleep alongside each other, you with your arm as my pillow and me with my arm wrapped around your stomach. I have the best memories of you. Thanks for being the reason I can honestly say that I had the greatest dad ever.
Love you forever,
Rachel
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
British Museum
If there is any one place in London that would cause me to want to stay here permanently, it would be the British Museum.
I remember going to the National Gallery every day for the first few weeks we were here, like I was trying to become one with the paintings or something hah. The whole time everyone kept telling me I needed to get over to see the British Museum.
But it's "the British Museum." Sometimes I don't even know why I'm IN England. The English weren't particularly nice to my ancestors, and quite frankly they weren't very nice to anyone's ancestors. I really have no interest in learning about the history of a people who managed to rape and pillage and decimate entire populations of people on almost every single continent (and who continue to do so even to this day...). Moving on though.
Eventually I made my way to the British Museum. Let me just say, it is NOT a museum about everything British. It's basically a HUGE building filled with random collections of artifacts, sarcophigi, pieces of architecture, totem poles, tribal dress, etc. etc. from all over the world. When you first walk up to the building, you are immediately awe-struck by its sheer massiveness. It looks like an ancient Greek temple, it doesn't look at all like it belongs plopped in the middle of London.
This is the top of the entrance, I need to try to get it at a better angle, I took this picture the first time I went and I was all fumbly with excitement.
Then you get inside and you're confronted with these massive triagular windows on the ceiling. It's simply incredible, the amount of light flowing everywhere. It is HUGE, both inside and out. It's not a museum you can see in one day, so good thing it's free! This is the main area, which apparently used to be a green but is now a lot of things (anything but green though).
These are some bearded men. They look kind of like the statues with the glowy eyes from The Never Ending Story Shows you how much I paid attention whilst walking through the museum. It's a knowledge overload.
I do remember that these were taken from the Parthenon. The Greek parts of the museum are ASTONISHING (not that the rest of the museum isn't...)
And this is the Rosetta stone! Cool huh??
We went to the British Museum today for my Renaissance Art class to see the Prints and Drawings room where they have the sketches of such famous Renaissance men as Leonardo, Raphael, Michelangelo, etc. It was AMAZING to see their sketches up close, not behind glass or anything. They're very protective of the sketches, don't get me wrong, but the room is intimate, only something like 10-15 people are let in at a time, and it's a HUGE library-like room, with lots of workers bustling around cataloguing things, but it's so quite and it's like it's just you and the Renaissance. It's really very beautiful.
I do love it here, a lot. I was walking home from the museum today, alone, and I thought to myself "Self, I don't think I've ever felt quite so alone in my whole life," but it's not a bad kind of alone. It's like being totally and utterly alone on a distant planet, away from all other people and life, but it's okay because you have you and your thoughts and your imagination. I probably feel like that because the people in London are so unfriendly, they can't even be bothered to say "hello" or even to make eye contact. But it's nice, this alone-ness. I think I might just miss it when I go home.
This is my "I'm so happy to be in London" face :)
If I don't post tomorrow or Friday, have a lovely weekend world! I'm off to Norway to become one with my inner Viking. I think I'll start going by Rachel the Red hahaha
I remember going to the National Gallery every day for the first few weeks we were here, like I was trying to become one with the paintings or something hah. The whole time everyone kept telling me I needed to get over to see the British Museum.
But it's "the British Museum." Sometimes I don't even know why I'm IN England. The English weren't particularly nice to my ancestors, and quite frankly they weren't very nice to anyone's ancestors. I really have no interest in learning about the history of a people who managed to rape and pillage and decimate entire populations of people on almost every single continent (and who continue to do so even to this day...). Moving on though.
Eventually I made my way to the British Museum. Let me just say, it is NOT a museum about everything British. It's basically a HUGE building filled with random collections of artifacts, sarcophigi, pieces of architecture, totem poles, tribal dress, etc. etc. from all over the world. When you first walk up to the building, you are immediately awe-struck by its sheer massiveness. It looks like an ancient Greek temple, it doesn't look at all like it belongs plopped in the middle of London.
This is the top of the entrance, I need to try to get it at a better angle, I took this picture the first time I went and I was all fumbly with excitement.
Then you get inside and you're confronted with these massive triagular windows on the ceiling. It's simply incredible, the amount of light flowing everywhere. It is HUGE, both inside and out. It's not a museum you can see in one day, so good thing it's free! This is the main area, which apparently used to be a green but is now a lot of things (anything but green though).
These are some bearded men. They look kind of like the statues with the glowy eyes from The Never Ending Story Shows you how much I paid attention whilst walking through the museum. It's a knowledge overload.
I do remember that these were taken from the Parthenon. The Greek parts of the museum are ASTONISHING (not that the rest of the museum isn't...)
And this is the Rosetta stone! Cool huh??
We went to the British Museum today for my Renaissance Art class to see the Prints and Drawings room where they have the sketches of such famous Renaissance men as Leonardo, Raphael, Michelangelo, etc. It was AMAZING to see their sketches up close, not behind glass or anything. They're very protective of the sketches, don't get me wrong, but the room is intimate, only something like 10-15 people are let in at a time, and it's a HUGE library-like room, with lots of workers bustling around cataloguing things, but it's so quite and it's like it's just you and the Renaissance. It's really very beautiful.
I do love it here, a lot. I was walking home from the museum today, alone, and I thought to myself "Self, I don't think I've ever felt quite so alone in my whole life," but it's not a bad kind of alone. It's like being totally and utterly alone on a distant planet, away from all other people and life, but it's okay because you have you and your thoughts and your imagination. I probably feel like that because the people in London are so unfriendly, they can't even be bothered to say "hello" or even to make eye contact. But it's nice, this alone-ness. I think I might just miss it when I go home.
This is my "I'm so happy to be in London" face :)
If I don't post tomorrow or Friday, have a lovely weekend world! I'm off to Norway to become one with my inner Viking. I think I'll start going by Rachel the Red hahaha
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Healthcare Reform
I'm not buying it. I've been a socialist since the day I was born, and I just plain am not buying this crap.
Now... the United States is one of the most backwards countries in the world (admittedly, there are POCKETS of backward-ness throughout the country). I was watching Religulous last night (it was a great film, I definitely recommend it, but more on that later) and Bill Maher said that the U.S. is one of the most profoundly religious countries in the developed world (on a list of thirty of so developed nations, we rank right before Turkey, which is the "most religious" "developed" nation). We're still shoving religion down everyones' throats, including our own country-men.
So tell me why the Catholic Church has such a big hand in this Healthcare Reform (oh, and why the Catholic Church has the right to send millions of dollars in the effort to make sure that I don't get my rights?). Don't we hate the Catholic Church? Wasn't that the biggest issue in electing JFK, that he was a Catholic? His allegiance is to the Pope, not to our country.
Sometimes it makes my head spin.
My cousin is a neo-con (*puke*), and he's just about the scariest person I've ever met in my life. He's always battling me over facebook status etc. saying that Obama is a communist, a marxist, a socialist (because those words OBVIOUSLY scare me?) and that Healthcare reform will be the END of our great nation.
No... it won't. In fact, it would be AWESOME. Yes, please, for the love of God, REFORM THE SH*T out of healthcare. Reform it till it can't be reformed anymore. Then maybe people wouldn't have to die from treatable conditions. Then maybe people with conditions (for example, chronic asthma, of which I am a sufferer) wouldn't be denied healthcare due to a pre-existing condition. I can't help that I live in the U.S. and my industrial nation gave me asthma as a youngster.
I also can't help wanting to just grab naysayers and take them to Canada, or the UK, or ANY of the Scandinavian countries, etc. and show them what a country with universal healthcare looks like. It is r.e.a.l.l.y. OK.
I have a feeling this is going to be the start of a new "red-scare" if this Healthcare reform doesn't pass.
And if it passes with the abortion measure, well, welcome back to the 1950's and 60's of back ally abortions and coat-hangers. We never liked our women that much anyway.
This whole argument about "well I don't want my children to have to pay for someone else's healthcare" sounds a lot like classism to me.
I have private healthcare (care of my mother) and when I graduate college, I'll need a job with benefits or a spouse with a job with benefits (or both!). I can honestly say that whatever needs to be done to fix the compeletely messed up (and murderous) insurance industry, needs to be done. Increase taxes (let's start with the upper "class" though), do whatever needs to be done. Just make sure that no more innocent lives are lost simply because they can't afford it. They're Americans too, they're human beings too, and they MATTER. We all MATTER, and in the end, that is what this whole argument boils down to.
Now... the United States is one of the most backwards countries in the world (admittedly, there are POCKETS of backward-ness throughout the country). I was watching Religulous last night (it was a great film, I definitely recommend it, but more on that later) and Bill Maher said that the U.S. is one of the most profoundly religious countries in the developed world (on a list of thirty of so developed nations, we rank right before Turkey, which is the "most religious" "developed" nation). We're still shoving religion down everyones' throats, including our own country-men.
So tell me why the Catholic Church has such a big hand in this Healthcare Reform (oh, and why the Catholic Church has the right to send millions of dollars in the effort to make sure that I don't get my rights?). Don't we hate the Catholic Church? Wasn't that the biggest issue in electing JFK, that he was a Catholic? His allegiance is to the Pope, not to our country.
Sometimes it makes my head spin.
My cousin is a neo-con (*puke*), and he's just about the scariest person I've ever met in my life. He's always battling me over facebook status etc. saying that Obama is a communist, a marxist, a socialist (because those words OBVIOUSLY scare me?) and that Healthcare reform will be the END of our great nation.
No... it won't. In fact, it would be AWESOME. Yes, please, for the love of God, REFORM THE SH*T out of healthcare. Reform it till it can't be reformed anymore. Then maybe people wouldn't have to die from treatable conditions. Then maybe people with conditions (for example, chronic asthma, of which I am a sufferer) wouldn't be denied healthcare due to a pre-existing condition. I can't help that I live in the U.S. and my industrial nation gave me asthma as a youngster.
I also can't help wanting to just grab naysayers and take them to Canada, or the UK, or ANY of the Scandinavian countries, etc. and show them what a country with universal healthcare looks like. It is r.e.a.l.l.y. OK.
I have a feeling this is going to be the start of a new "red-scare" if this Healthcare reform doesn't pass.
And if it passes with the abortion measure, well, welcome back to the 1950's and 60's of back ally abortions and coat-hangers. We never liked our women that much anyway.
This whole argument about "well I don't want my children to have to pay for someone else's healthcare" sounds a lot like classism to me.
I have private healthcare (care of my mother) and when I graduate college, I'll need a job with benefits or a spouse with a job with benefits (or both!). I can honestly say that whatever needs to be done to fix the compeletely messed up (and murderous) insurance industry, needs to be done. Increase taxes (let's start with the upper "class" though), do whatever needs to be done. Just make sure that no more innocent lives are lost simply because they can't afford it. They're Americans too, they're human beings too, and they MATTER. We all MATTER, and in the end, that is what this whole argument boils down to.
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