A Hoppy Birthday

I wasn't too excited about celebrating my birthday this year.  I didn't have anything planned.  That's quite unusual for me because I love birthdays, but this year I just wasn't into making it anything special.  My friends and family know me much better than that and decided that despite my ho-hum attitude, I deserved something very special.  Here's how it all went down:

These ladies (my small group) always know how to make me smile and completely surprised me with the sweetest birthday card and a s'more cake.

Please excuse the mess. The cake looked bizarre zoomed in.

That's right!  It's what you think it is! One, big s'more!  We actually had s'more dip for dessert that night, so I took this baby home and ate it for breakfast the next morning.  YUM!

On my actual birthday, my parents and I went to a fancy, french restaurant called Le Ferme in Chevy Chase, MD.  We normally only go here once a year, so it was really special.

I had the dover sole, which happened to be the most expensive item on the menu. Ooops! I guess that is what "market price" means.  It was so delicious, though.

 For dessert, the waiter brought me a chocolate souffle and wished me a "hoppy birthday"!!

Even though my parents hate ice cream cake, they also surprised me with a chocolate cake with mint chocolate chip ice cream. 

Mom was funny and put trick candles on the cake.  She said after the year I've had, I'd want to have more than just one wish!  She was right.  I had a lot of fun making many wishes and questioning my lung capacity as those flames continued to reignite over and over.

My third and final celebration was with our family friends.  We just had a quiet dinner at home, but Kim was so sweet to make my favorites.  She made this ceasar salad that is just to die for.  I have never had anything like it before.

Then she also made cookies and cream pie which has now replaced the Baskin Robbins ice cream cake as my favorite.  This pie was amazing!

As for presents, my parents gave me a brand new Spyder ski jacket that I am hoping to get some good use out of this year. Kim, Roy, and Ryan gifted me with two beautiful Lenox crystal votive candle holders as a symbol of bright, new beginnings.

Thank goodness my friends and family didn't listen to my bah humbug birthday mumblings. They all did what they could to make it very special.  A hoppy birthday, indeed.  Thirty-one has started off oh so fun!

A Few Good Men.

In the wake of tragedy, you are keenly aware of what you've lost.  As time distances you from the shock, the impact of the loss sinks in.  You know what you've lost, but may be pleasantly surprised by what you've gained.  I am not talking about an inheritance or the tens of pounds that now show up on my thighs thanks to grief eats. I've mentioned before how I am so thankful that many people swooped in to protect me and support me during the most difficult time of life.  I am not going to specifically call people out  because I know I will miss a few, but one of the best surprises of working towards recovery in this tragedy is the way Mike's guy friends have taken care of me. Talk about a few good men. (Well, really more than just a few, but few sounded good for the title)

It is no surprise that on April 3, 2012 the world lost one of the most amazing men the world has ever known.  People always speak highly of the dead even if it is not necessarily true, but in the case, it is entirely true. I continue to learn the many ways Mike touched lives even if just in passing. I only wish he had realized his impact on this world and made the decision to stay. But he didn't. And calling to tell his friends of his death was....I can't even describe it. Hearing/seeing grown men reduced to a puddle of tears is just so sad. I know I am not being very articulate here, but it is because I truly can't describe it. Many of them were caught by complete surprise because Mike kept his illness very close hold.  I wish this hadn't been the case because I know every single one of those guys would have been there for Mike. But that was his choice and I had to honor that for him. I unwillingly said goodbye to one amazing man whom I loved.....and gained the love and support of his friends.

One of the most helpful things in dealing with all of this is talking about it.  Talking about how I feel.  Mumbling words through tears that feel like they will never end. Yelling at the horror of it all.  Getting angry at Mike, God, the mental health system, doctors, whoever I feel like being mad at the time. All of that has happened.

Now, tell me, what guy wants to willingly listen to a woman cry and talk in circles?

{If she is your wife, OK, that would be the loving thing to do.}

These guys!!

They encourage me to talk about what happened.  They encourage me to write down my feelings and to express them.  They remind me that Mike loved me and wants me to be happy.  They send me inspirational quotes.  And cards that they -- not their wives -- wrote.  I can tell by the handwriting. HA! They have shared stories and jokes that have made me laugh until my sides split.

They have loved and supported me in the spirit of true friendship through all of this. 

And I am so thankful that I know more than just a few good men.

{Y'all know who you are. I am so proud to call you friends.}

No cure

There is no cure for your illness.
A whole lot of love and support with medication and counseling would have helped.
You had that. You had an inspiration to show you the truth of the illness and how it is possible to live a normal life.
But you didn't believe it. You couldn't believe it.
I am not sure why.  I'll never know.
Your illness told you that you had to find your own "cure".
So you did.

You are happy and healthy again.  Those of us left behind are sad.

Counseling helps with the anger, blame, confusion, devastation, fear, pain and sadness.
That will dissipate over time.
People who have walked this road before me tell me my feelings are normal and I will feel better.
Time helps.
Prayer helps.
Love and support helps.

But still there is no cure.

No cure for the hole left in my heart.  In the hearts of so many.

I miss you.  I love you.

Always.


If I never met you, I wouldn't like you. If I didn't like you, I wouldn't love you. If I didn't love you, I wouldn't miss you. But I did, I do, and I will - - Unknown
 

Jepson 20th Anniversary Gala

The Jepson School of Leadership Studies at University of Richmond is the only school of its kind in the world.  Bob and Alice Jepson believe in the importance and need to provide education in leadership studies and ethics. He felt with that foundation you would be able to contribute to society in a positive way and succeed in whatever career you chose to pursue. With this in mind, the Jepsons gifted the University, his alma mater, with millions of dollars to create the Jepson School of Leadership Studies.  Leadership moves the world.  That's why it's important, why we study it and why we strive to do it well. A Jepson education investigates leadership not only as a position but also as a process and a relationship among people. Students look at leadership as it was, as it is and as it should be.  Courses challenge students to think critically, communicate effectively and anticipate change.  Source

Jepson graduates go on to a variety of careers, but regardless of the field we choose, we are taught to see the world differently.  Those outside of "Club Jepson" as we were called by the haters, would make fun of us for pursing such a "hokey" field.  As part of our Jepson education, we were required to have a second major or minor. Mine was Spanish, but I was in classes with friends who chose art, biology, rhetoric and communications, political science and business among others.  We were also required to complete a 240 hour internship. It was at that internship (mine was in organizational behavior) where I learned first hand that there is a serious lack of leadership and the skills, concepts, and values I was learning were going to be extremely important professionally and personally. My Jepson experience afforded me opportunities to work with Congressmen, scholars, my peers, and homeless people. Such variety was valuable, eye-opening, and character building. I am forever grateful to the Jepson family for their generous gift to provide students with such a unique opportunity to explore the world outside of the "Richmond bubble" and make a difference by actively engaging in the world around us.   

It's been nearly nine years since I've spent almost every waking hour in Jepson Hall with my classmates/friends. Some of my favorite memories are:

• Getting my acceptance letter and proudly accepting my certificate at the Induction.
• Developing my motivation series geared towards homeless people with Patricia North.
• Creating leadership curriculum for and working with students with severe learning disabilities.  The moment they realized that they, too, could be leaders despite their differences was so sweet!
• Talking to Bubba Cathy (Chick Fil-A founder's family) on his personal cell phone.  He freely communicated with my friend, Melissa and I, for one of our projects.
• Riding in a hot air balloon during Dr. Couto's class while he was teaching us about paradigm shifts.
• When Dr. Wren ripped his pants and we were all trying so hard not to laugh.
• Anything in Dr. Hickman's classes.
• The encouragement from Dean Teresa Williams and how she (and everyone else) would forever mix up me and Jessica Moye Tallman.  One time, Jessica had hip surgery and had to use one crutch.  She was "Jessica with one crutch" and I was "Jessica with two canes!"
• Graduation Day: All the Jepson majors remained standing for each other after we returned to our seat with diploma in hand.
• Dr. Richard Couto: Without him, I may have pursued business instead.  He was my scholarship advisor and asked me if I ever thought about considering Leadership Studies. I hadn't, but he encouraged me to take the Foundations class....the rest is history!

I made more memories last night at the 20th Anniversary Gala. It was so much fun catching up with our professors and other Jepsonians. The black tie gala was held at The John Marshall Ballrooms in downtown Richmond, Va. We began the evening with cocktails and catching up.  During the cocktail hour, I ran into many people I haven't seen since graduation, and some familiar faces, too.

 Here I am with Dr. Gill Robinson Hickman.  She was my favorite professor and one of the founding faculty at the Jepson School along with Dr. J. Thomas Wren and Dr. Joanne Ciulla. Dr. Hickman helped me decide to pursue my MBA and has encouraged me along this new journey to law school by writing a recommendation.  She hasn't had me as a student in 11 years and is still so caring and supportive and willing to do whatever to help me succeed. How wonderful to see her!  She was just as excited to see her former students as we were to see her.

 Pausing for a photo op with Kimberly Bowers, Kristen Emerson and Suezy Keller.  In true Jepson fashion, this is the only time we were all together all night.  Of course, we were all assigned to different tables! Much of our Jepson education involved group work, but the Jepson philosophy is you don't get to pick the people you work with in the real world, so you don't get to pick your partners in group assignments. For a second, we all thought we could sit together. Silly us!
At my table was a current Jepson student on JSGA and Jepson Corp (a new association), Georgia Sorenson (a scholar and now professor at UMD Law.  Remember her?? It was kind of crazy to be sitting there eating dinner with her having remembered reading her books and learning from her when she was a visiting scholar), a visiting scholar from Claremont-McKenna College who teaches courses for their degree in Leadership (not a school but a major), and two adjunct professors.  We dined on delicious food and this fantastic cake! Notice the Jepson candy on top!

The program opened with remarks from Dean Sandra Peart who then introduced Admiral Michael Mullen, Former Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. ADM Mullen discussed failure and how he learned more from his failures than from his successes. He also reiterated what Jepson instills in us over and over, which is that you don't have to be in a position of power to be a leader and the concept of servant leadership.  President Ayers spoke and introduced Mr. Robert Jepson. Honestly, I don't remember much of what he said because all I remember was thinking how thankful I was that he gave such a generous gift for so many students to have this education. My Jepson experience is certainly paramount to my college experience and to my professional successes today. Most, if not all, of us who were Jepson graduates (major or minor) would probably agree that Jepson has been influential in who we are today. It's rare to say that your major (or minor) has played a part in shaping who you are. That's what makes Jepson so special.

At the end of the night, we were gifted 20th anniversary wine glasses.  The scholar next to me couldn't carry his back on the plane, so I now have two. Rest assured, I will toasting Jepson for a long, long time.

Maybe you're born with it.  Maybe it's Jepson.  - A slogan on a t-shirt in the 20th anniversary video.

Unplugged Take Two

I haven't talked much about my birthday this year.  It wasn't much of a celebration, but the dinners I did have in honor of that special day were delicious and much appreciated.  I will get the photos up soon, but I am still playing around with my Adobe Photoshop.  I have this bad habit of trying to make everything perfect when I know it is possible to do so.  It started back when I was really young.  My parents said they were a bit worried because I wasn't talking when I should have been.  Turned out my speech was a little delayed, but my first three words were pickle, bracelet, and hippopotamus. Dad said I never liked to say a word until I could say it just right. There's a lot of truth to that because, to this day, it drives me crazy when people mispronounce words.  Don't worry, I don't judge you if you make a mistake (I make mistakes, too), but inside I am dying to correct the mispronunciation. I only do this with my parents. You're safe, promise.

What does this little aside have to do with my photos? Well, I just know that I can make them look better than they look right now, so I want to learn how to do that before I write a blog about them. At this point, it might be the year 2014 before I master this and I might just have to forget about trying to be perfect and just capture the memory. I am just not ready to give up just yet.

If you could see the photos, you'd see that nothing too terribly exhilarating occurred during my celebrations.  You'd definitely see that I ate a ton of cake, ice cream, ice cream cake and ice cream pie (Yeah, have I mentioned that it's a good thing that I am close with a certified diabetes educator because all of that sugar is surely not good for me.  But, I also recognize that diabetes is a serious disease that I do not want to get, so I'll post later on what I am doing to help cut down on my sugar.) There was one really exciting part of my birthday, though.

I got 14 birthday cards in the mail!!

 In this age, that is extremely rare. And it made SO happy to get handwritten wishes from friends and family members!  Don't get me wrong, the texts, Facebook messages and phone calls made my day special too. It's just an extra measure of thoughtful to send a card -- and my face lit up when something besides a bill was present in my mailbox.

Last year, I received a number of cards and set out to reciprocate the thoughtfulness. But, life happened. I sent cards, lots of cards, but only to Dude. Now, it's my turn to make YOU feel just as special as those who sent me cards made me feel. You deserve it.

Be on the lookout for mail from me around your birthday. I can't promise it will always be a legit birthday card because Hallmark is seriously lacking in their selection these days, but it will be a handwritten wish from me to you.

And, maybe one day before my next birthday, you'll see those photos....

No pain. No gain.

I remember the pain I felt after hearing the news of Dude's death like it was yesterday.  It literally felt like my heart and my body had been ripped in half and would never heal. After I finished screaming at the horror of it all(in my office -- awesome.), I could barely talk, barely breathe and I was certain that not one but two funerals would need to be planned -- his and mine. The tears wouldn't stop coming, but I had to keep it together in some fashion because I had a job to do. I had to make sure all of our college friends and his law school friends  heard the news. I also had to step in and help Mike's mom and brothers with anything they needed. In the weeks that followed, I spent a lot of time on the phone and in coffee shops. Many of his friends who I didn't know that well requested to meet with me to send their condolences and discuss what happened. It was as if I was on auto-pilot. I told the same story over and over, numb to its impact. I spent time dodging questions about details that Dude wouldn't want shared and sounding like a broken record as I repeated, "He wasn't himself.  Focus on the man you remember him to be. To tell you all the details of the last four months would be to tell you of a person you wouldn't recognize. He wasn't himself at the end.  Remember him for who he was." An unsatisfactory answer that didn't do much to help with our friends' pain, but it was the truth.

As I repeated that statement over and over, I thought to myself "He wasn't who he was and because of this tragedy I have no idea who I am anymore."  Not only had I spent the majority of the last year doing everything I could to take care of him and love him, Dude was my best friend, a huge part of me.  Now he didn't need me anymore.  He was happy and healthy. But, I needed him. I was devastated.  A huge part of me is gone. Forever.

The pain was so deep and unlike anything I'd ever felt before. One night I texted his brothers "Advil doesn't help."  For some reason,  I foolishly thought Advil would help alleviate the pain of this heartache. After talking to his youngest brother for awhile, the pain started to dissipate.  Talking to his family is one of the biggest helps when the pain gets intense.  Maybe it is because they understand the intensity of the pain? Maybe it is because they are my connection to my best friend? I don't know, but it helps. I went to the doctor for a yearly check-up two months after tragedy and he knew something was wrong.  He commented that I was so tense he could barely examine me. I told him what happened thinking he would surely give me some medicine to relax me. Nope. He wanted me to be able to feel the pain because confronting the emotions and the grief was the best way for me to begin the healing process. He felt the drugs would just numb the feelings. If things got worse and I felt trapped or like a danger to myself, I'd come back, but I've been able to manage without the drugs -- and a little wine every once and awhile. It was/is necessary for me to feel the pain to move forward.

 Almost 10 months into this grief journey, there are still times of intense pain.  Dude's birthday. Thanksgiving. Christmas. My own birthday - he always made sure to do something special for my birthday.  All of those times make sense -- times when his presence is clearly missed.  Lately, I've been slammed with unexpected waves of intense grief.  The first time caught me off guard.  The second time was a little worse.  This last time I felt like the intense grief lasted all.night.long even though I'm sure it didn't.  I wanted to attempt to figure out a pattern so I could learn how to best manage the emotions if and when they come again. I realized the intense pain/grief has recently returned when my friends have celebrated major events in their lives -- engagements, weddings or babies. This now makes sense because they are a reminder of events Dude will miss. He will not meet my future husband. He won't attend my wedding. He will never know my children. He is/was such a huge part of my life and not having him at those major events makes me very sad.

Grief sneaks up on me but I am learning to manage it when it does.

No pain. No gain. That expression applies to working out in the gym and to grief.

{and even to Jesus. Jesus had to die on the cross for those who believe in Him to live forever. Talk about pain for our gain!}

 I'd rather kiss the pain goodbye, but I know it is helping me to deal with this tragedy and helping me to move forward.

In this case, pain is gain.
   

To be continued

I seriously considered not posting my grief posts anymore.  I figured most people don’t want to read about it anymore even though I’ve noticed my readership goes up on grief posts.  I didn’t want this to turn into a grief blog.  There are plenty of those out there and I am so thankful for every one that I have stumbled upon and sadly, have now added to my daily reads.  They help me.  They validate my feelings.  They make me feel normal.  Grief books, counselors and the like tell me my feelings are normal, but sometimes I feel a little too pushed by well meaning people in my life that I start to question the definition of normal.  I have to remember that their definition of normal is quite different than my definition of normal these days.  Those that seem to be pushing a little too hard have not been rocked by this tragedy.  And thank God for that.  As many of us who were closest to Mike remark time and time again, we don’t want anyone to have to feel the pain we are experiencing.  I recently heard a statistic that more military members have died by suicide this year than in combat.  Upon hearing that information, I felt punched in the gut all over the again.  The intense pain comes rushing back again even if just for a moment.  I feel for those family members and friends of the lost.  I never wanted to know the pain, but I do.

During my internal debate over whether or not to keep posting my grief posts, I remembered the reason I started this blog.  I occupy this little space on the web to document my life.  Unfortunately, this tragic experience is now a part of my life.  As much as I’d like to turn back time and pretend this never happened, it did.  Other people document life altering events -- like pregnancies, illnesses...And, I have to remember that I write for myself not for my readers.  I’m not ashamed to admit, though, that it is encouraging to get comments and likes as a show of support.  I know this tragedy will affect me for the rest of life and I want to remember all of these feelings, small victories, and even the setbacks. 

When speaking with a friend the other day, she commented, “Jess, you have one heck of a testimony through this experience.”  This is so true.  I have never been in such a low spot in my life, but I’ve also never felt God’s presence more.  Another friend remarked, “You will always grieve the loss of Mike, but your deep grief will start to dissipate when you feel like you can be joyful again; when you feel like you can have a bond like that again.”  There is a whole lotta truth to that, too.  I have many fun events on the books for this year and I am starting to be able to have conversations without referring to this situation at all.  This used to take so much focus it was exhausting to talk to people.  And, if you know me, that’s saying something.  I love talking!  But, the conversations are flowing with much more ease these days.  So, slowly but surely, I am adjusting.  I may not have ever realized that had it not been for this blog.

This blog has been a tremendous help for my grief.  I have written many posts that I didn’t publish because I feared what others might think.   I’m done with that.  I am going to clean up those posts and publish them.  If you are looking for lots of juicy details, you’re not likely to get them.  I will protect Mike, our family, and our friends until the day I die.  What will be on this blog is truth in my life -  the times of deep sorrow, of great joy, and all those inbetween.  So, my grief posts will continue (with splashes of other parts of life scattered about).  I NEED to write them for me.  But, of course, if you know someone they might help, please, please pass them along.  I hope to show you (and myself) in future posts that my smile is not quite whole but I am continuing to grow into the woman that God has created me to be – through the joy, sorrow, and mundane.

To be continued…