Sometimes you just have those days. Or weeks...
As some of you know, I joined a professional fraternity this year. Part of being a member is that we have to attend the events for new pledges. Monday was one that involved a formal interview in front of the chapter. The final question was who do you admire most. Nearly every single answer? My mom. The first time it was cute. The second time it was cuteish. The fifth time? I'm going to kill one of you if you don't choose a different person to freaking admire! By the time number twelve rolled around, I was pretty much done. Now, I know it sounds selfish to hate on the people who happen to admire their mom, but it just took a toll this week. Don't judge :)
For every holiday, big or small, mom made me, and later Karissa, sign our name to a card. There were Halloween cards, Valentine's Day cards, Easter, Passover, Grandparent's Day, etc. When we got old enough, we were expected to include a little note. Today, in my wiser days, I see that that is just what you do when you are a considerate person. Back then, I hated it. "How annoying. I'd much rather be doing who knows what else." Yesterday I had to take a trip to Fred Meyer. I figured while I was there, I would grab a card for an upcoming birthday. Big mistake. Tromp, tromp, tromp; up the stairs I go (the Corvallis Fred Meyer has an upstairs…I'm not a fan), when what do my wandering eyes behold? A solid wall of pastel colored Mother's Day cards. It is in front of this wall that Nathan found me 10 minutes later, just staring. For someone who hates writing cards, I have never wanted to buy one so bad in my entire life.
About this time last year, my mom apologized profusely for not being well enough to come to the annual moms and family weekend at OSU. She looked at me and said that maybe next year, now this year, she would make it. Whilst sitting in my physics lecture this afternoon, it hit me hard. This weekend is moms weekend and she won't be here. But this year, I can't go home and see her either. Talk about a double whammy. And to top it all off, this weekend is the Kentucky Derby. I can't remember a year when mom didn't watch the Derby. And not just the race. She watched all the coverage leading up to it.
Sometimes you just have those weeks.
Until next time,
Karina
Wednesday, April 29, 2015
Sunday, April 26, 2015
Call and Response
In the fall of 2014, a friend of mine approached me and suggested I join the professional business fraternity, Alpha Kappa Psi, at OSU. My response? "Ummm…I'm an English major. And I'm also female". Apparently neither of those facts mattered. I pledged in Winter of 2015 and am enjoying it immensely.
It is a requirement for AKPsi that we do x amount of hours of community service per term. "My response? "Not bad considering I had to do 150 just to graduate from high school". Luckily, opportunities are provided for us and we just have to pick the ones we want to do. Speaking of which, I highly suggest attending the OSU neon 5k run. If running isn't your thing (I'm right there with you), a second option would be to like their Facebook page.
One of the most recent opportunities provided to us was to form a team and participate in OSU's Relay for Life. Several members jumped on board immediately and urged the rest of us to do the same. My response? "Oh hell no". In high school, National Honor Society, of which I somehow got elected vice president without even showing up to the elections, partnered with Key Club and put on a mini Relay for Life. Ours was just a couple of hours after school, but there was a good turn out nonetheless. We even had a carnival and free hamburgers. The event always ended with survivors coming to tell their stories while the crowd circled around them in support. Given this, and what I already know about the true Relay for Life, there was no way I was going to spend 12 hours listening to survival stories. Don't get me wrong. It is incredible and lucky that people beat this horrendous disease everyday and that is truly great. I just don't think I'm ready to hear about it seeing as how I celebrated my mom's birthday without her.
Another friend in the chapter decided to participate. Nathan jumped in with him. My response? "Have fun, but hell no". However, after an internal struggle to rival the match between Andre the Giant and Hulk Hogan, I came to this conclusion: how can I refuse to do my part to find a cure for the very disease that took my mom from me? Tonight I was asked if I was participating in Relay for Life. My response? "I'm already registered".
Our chapter is partnered with Beta Alpha Psi. If you would like to help us reach our goal, here is the link: http://main.acsevents.org/site/TR/?team_id=1812810&pg=team&fr_id=66138
If you would like to donate to me personally, here is that link: http://main.acsevents.org/site/TR?px=40204850&pg=personal&fr_id=66138
Please don't feel obligated.
Until next time,
Karina
P.S. I highly recommend the Tatami Room at the Granary Pizzeria. You have to take your shoes off, but you get to eat really good pizza on the floor surrounded by big pillows. The waiter even encouraged us to build a fort. And, as a bonus, if you "accidentally" drop a piece of cutlery through a hole in the wall, it lands on the stairs leading to the law offices next door.
Saturday, April 25, 2015
Happy Birthday To Me
When I turned 14, I had an extremely elaborate birthday party. It was Clue themed and everyone (all 15+ people) showed up dressed as their favorite character. I, by the way, do not pull off head-to-toe purple very well. There were candelabras and themed music. Alas, dad would not dress up as a butler and allow me to refer to him as Jeeves. Despite this, my parents deserve some sort of medal or trophy for cooking a sit down meal for so many teenagers. After dinner, we all watched the incredibly cheesy, but still great, movie adaptation of the game.
When I turned 17, I decided it would be oh so much fun to have a masquerade ball themed party. Everyone was instructed to wear a mask (duh!) and dress up in the finest clothes a bunch of 17 year olds could pull from their closets. The invitations were even printed on fancy paper, rolled up scroll style, and tied with a ribbon. Carrying them around in a plastic bag all day may have classed it down a bit, but so be it. We cleared the living room of furniture and I even put up special decorations. Dad even got in his little joke and prepared only ball shaped foods, which everyone but me seemed to find hilarious. A word of advice though…a masquerade ball is not quite as much fun when only 8 people show up and no one dances. We were wearing sweat pants and playing twister by the time the cake was cut.
When I turned 18, I thought I was hot stuff and decided to throw a "club" themed party…in my living room. We swapped out the regular lightbulbs for colored ones and set up a large "DJ area". The fact that said area was really just my then boyfriend, now fiancé, Nathan and a big CD player is not important. This time more than 8 people showed up and everyone was dressed club-esque. I even got to break out my sequined mini skirt. However, by the end of the night, we were all just sitting around talking and playing games. I should really just give up on throwing parties where people are supposed to dance. At least no one was wearing sweats.
When I turned 19, I didn't have a birthday party for the first time in my entire life. Instead, Nathan came up to Corvallis and surprised me, we gorged on Buffalo Wild Wings, and then we evacuated the dorms. Someone thought a bomb threat would be the best way to get out of their chemistry midterm. Happy birthday to me! That weekend, I came home to celebrate with my family. An amazing family friend of ours (thank you Jen!) made me a delicious dinner and an incredible cake. Before I blew out the candles, my mom spoke to me the last words I would ever hear her traditionally speak. She put her finger over her trach tube opening and said "happy birthday, Karina." Needless to say, I teared up a little bit.
Today I turned 20. I went out for a delicious dinner with my dad, sister, and fiancé. I ate some cake even though I really shouldn't have. Karissa and I had a laugh with Disney's Hercules. Tomorrow, Nathan is throwing me a birthday party. Today I turned 20 and I looked back on a year old Facebook message a thousand times. "Happy birthday to you my beloved Karina! I hope you have a fantastic day!"
Some parents say that they are too young to have a 20 year old. I say treasure the fact that you are here to see them turn 20.
Until next time,
Karina
When I turned 17, I decided it would be oh so much fun to have a masquerade ball themed party. Everyone was instructed to wear a mask (duh!) and dress up in the finest clothes a bunch of 17 year olds could pull from their closets. The invitations were even printed on fancy paper, rolled up scroll style, and tied with a ribbon. Carrying them around in a plastic bag all day may have classed it down a bit, but so be it. We cleared the living room of furniture and I even put up special decorations. Dad even got in his little joke and prepared only ball shaped foods, which everyone but me seemed to find hilarious. A word of advice though…a masquerade ball is not quite as much fun when only 8 people show up and no one dances. We were wearing sweat pants and playing twister by the time the cake was cut.
When I turned 18, I thought I was hot stuff and decided to throw a "club" themed party…in my living room. We swapped out the regular lightbulbs for colored ones and set up a large "DJ area". The fact that said area was really just my then boyfriend, now fiancé, Nathan and a big CD player is not important. This time more than 8 people showed up and everyone was dressed club-esque. I even got to break out my sequined mini skirt. However, by the end of the night, we were all just sitting around talking and playing games. I should really just give up on throwing parties where people are supposed to dance. At least no one was wearing sweats.
When I turned 19, I didn't have a birthday party for the first time in my entire life. Instead, Nathan came up to Corvallis and surprised me, we gorged on Buffalo Wild Wings, and then we evacuated the dorms. Someone thought a bomb threat would be the best way to get out of their chemistry midterm. Happy birthday to me! That weekend, I came home to celebrate with my family. An amazing family friend of ours (thank you Jen!) made me a delicious dinner and an incredible cake. Before I blew out the candles, my mom spoke to me the last words I would ever hear her traditionally speak. She put her finger over her trach tube opening and said "happy birthday, Karina." Needless to say, I teared up a little bit.
Today I turned 20. I went out for a delicious dinner with my dad, sister, and fiancé. I ate some cake even though I really shouldn't have. Karissa and I had a laugh with Disney's Hercules. Tomorrow, Nathan is throwing me a birthday party. Today I turned 20 and I looked back on a year old Facebook message a thousand times. "Happy birthday to you my beloved Karina! I hope you have a fantastic day!"
Some parents say that they are too young to have a 20 year old. I say treasure the fact that you are here to see them turn 20.
Until next time,
Karina
Thursday, April 23, 2015
I Wanna Check You For Ticks
In March of 2007, Brad Paisley released a single titled "Ticks" and let me tell you, it is a true gem. If you have not heard it, I strongly urge you to look it up and listen to it in its entirety right this minute. I myself find it to be just wonderful, as did my mom. Dad on the other hand does not have the refined taste required to truly appreciate such a spectacular musical creation. Are you catching my sarcasm? OK, good. Today I heard that song.
There is a turn off on Highway 99 just before you reach Junction City. All that is there are some trees and a single port-a-potty, but it seems to be quite popular regardless. It was this turn off that I pulled into when I got the call. I was expecting to hear that the breathing tube change was successful. I was wrong. I thought I would be totally OK to drive straight through to Eugene. What's a few more miles? I was wrong. There is no moving on from there. Sometimes I still think I am stuck in that moment. Today, as I passed said turn off, I heard that song.
Once, that song came on in the car and dad tried to change it, but mom wouldn't let him and I smiled.
I smile when I remember her laugh. I smile when I remember her stories. I smile when I remember how she kicked everyone's butt in Cards Against Humanity, even when she couldn't speak. I smile when I remember the faces she made when I tried on something truly hideous. I smile when I remember how hard she laughed when I got stuck in a wetsuit in the dressing room at GI Joe's. I smile when I hear that song.
I cry when I remember her pain. I cry when I remember all the hospital stays. I cry when I remember that I never went to see her because I thought she would always come home. I cry when I remember the day that the bleed happened and how I just stood in the kitchen and watched them drive her away. I cry when I remember those days in the hospice. I cried on her birthday and I cry when I hear that song.
This is the new normal. I laugh, I cry, and I get angry. And you can bet your pretty little behind that I will be nowhere to be found on campus come the annual "Mom's and Family Weekend". I'll be somewhere listening to that song.
Until next time,
Karina
There is a turn off on Highway 99 just before you reach Junction City. All that is there are some trees and a single port-a-potty, but it seems to be quite popular regardless. It was this turn off that I pulled into when I got the call. I was expecting to hear that the breathing tube change was successful. I was wrong. I thought I would be totally OK to drive straight through to Eugene. What's a few more miles? I was wrong. There is no moving on from there. Sometimes I still think I am stuck in that moment. Today, as I passed said turn off, I heard that song.
Once, that song came on in the car and dad tried to change it, but mom wouldn't let him and I smiled.
I smile when I remember her laugh. I smile when I remember her stories. I smile when I remember how she kicked everyone's butt in Cards Against Humanity, even when she couldn't speak. I smile when I remember the faces she made when I tried on something truly hideous. I smile when I remember how hard she laughed when I got stuck in a wetsuit in the dressing room at GI Joe's. I smile when I hear that song.
I cry when I remember her pain. I cry when I remember all the hospital stays. I cry when I remember that I never went to see her because I thought she would always come home. I cry when I remember the day that the bleed happened and how I just stood in the kitchen and watched them drive her away. I cry when I remember those days in the hospice. I cried on her birthday and I cry when I hear that song.
This is the new normal. I laugh, I cry, and I get angry. And you can bet your pretty little behind that I will be nowhere to be found on campus come the annual "Mom's and Family Weekend". I'll be somewhere listening to that song.
Until next time,
Karina
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