Sep 16, 2012 |
My friend Dan is one of those friends-for-life-no-matter-what type of friend.
He’s followed Frankly, My Dear from Day One. It was his encouragement that led me to start New Inklings Press. He was the first to buy The Unemployment Cookbook.
We talk smack about sports, politics, and humor. All.The.Time. He’s just a great guy with a great attitude and a great family.
Dan and I have known each other since grade school. He still lives close to where we grew up in Michigan.
His brother Patrick was a 12-year veteran of the West Bloomfield Police. And just one short week ago, Patty was the first officer ever at West Bloomfield to be killed in the line of duty.
I don’t know all the details. From what I’ve heard from Dan, from friends, and from the news, Pat and several officers were responding to a call that there was a suicidal man in his house. The officers entered, announced their presence, and began to climb stairs to the second story. The suspect opened fire and shot through drywall and a door. Patrick was shot multiple times. He later died at the hospital.
There have been reports and articles and messages and much information about the incident. So I’m not going to delve into any more details about that.
Patrick left behind a wife and four young children.
I owe Dan. I owe him a lot. For years of friendship and being so supportive of my writing endeavors.
I couldn’t get back to Michigan for the funeral. I can’t be there in person to tell them how sorry I am this has happened. I can’t share with him how I’ve cried for Dan, his wife, their kids, and Patrick’s wife and kids. How, from a distance I can’t make sense of it and so I’m overwhelmed with how it must be for Them, who are close. Who are In It. I can’t be there.
But I can be here. I can pray. I can share this post. And I can ask you to help his brother’s family.
A trust has been established to help Amy and their children.
I’m asking you to please contribute. Anything. Don’t drink Starbucks for just one day. Put one less gallon of gas in your car.
Please help this family. Please help Amy get on her feet and support their children. And please keep them in your prayers. Thanks.
Don’t worry if you can’t do anything just now. There’s a Button on my sidebar with this link. And it will stay there as long as the family needs.
Rest in Peace, Patrick O’Rourke.
Patrick O’Rourke Family Trust
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
Sep 15, 2012 |
Yesterday, I got this fabulous tweet from Trekaroo:
If you click on their button on my sidebar, you’ll be taken to my Trekaroo page where I’ve written a few mini-blogs for this great family-based review site. Activities, lodgings, eateries… you name it, they review it. And the best part is, it’s written by parents for parents.
And they do these great giveaways every week.
Lo and behold. I won a big one. Awesome, right?!
Here’s the Good Part:
“Winner will receive a 3-night, 4-day trip to Myrtle Beach, complete with accommodations for two persons, a restaurant giftcard and a pair of tickets to choice attractions.”
Now here’s the Bad Part:
“Airfare and/or all other travel to and from Myrtle Beach and charges for items of a personal nature, including, but not limited to gratuities, discretionary hotel and dining charges, phone calls, optional excursions, gift shop purchases, spas, beverages, meals, travel insurance, etc., are the sole responsibility of the winner and his/her guest.”
and
“Prize must be redeemed and travel completed by Dec 31, 2012. Prize is subject to blackout dates including holidays (e.g., Labor Day, Thanksgiving, and Christmas).”
What this means is, although I’ve won a trip, unless I come up with airfare and expenditure funds really soon, I won’t be able to go.
I know right now you’re thinking to yourself, “Why did you enter, then?” Honestly? I never thought I would win. I was just trying to help Trekaroo get more support and recognition.
I believe in this website. I believe in the people running it, and the volunteer blogger/reviewers who contribute to it.
I just know, if Dot and I are meant to take this trip, things will work out.
My friend Beth, who is quickly earning her way to being my Personal Assistant/Front Line Cheerleader, suggested I find a travel agent or airlines to sponsor my Blog. She’s full of great ideas like that.
I’m seriously thinking of holding a Bake Sale. I already bought a lottery ticket.
How would you raise funds for a once-in-a-lifetime trip like this?
You’re thinking, “It’s not once in a lifetime.” “It’s only a few hours by plane.” “You can find a way.” But it is once in a lifetime. I haven’t even begun to work my new day job yet. And there’s no guarantee of full-time hours when I do start. Plane tickets are expensive. And let’s face it, who wants a vacation without funds for the little extras like postcards and keychain souvenirs?
Myrtle Beach is Calling… how do I answer?
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
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Do You trekaroo?
Aug 18, 2012 |
Lately, I’ve been rediscovering lost memories. I’ve been chatting with old friends on Facebook. Looking through old photo albums. Reading old journal entries and blog posts.
I’m not one to reminisce. I’m either in the moment or living for the future. The past is the past. It can’t be changed. And while I have solid childhood memories, I don’t often allow myself the luxury of recalling those favored moments more than once in a great while. This is also because I have a tendency to relive emotions that come with certain memories.
Because of this, I can write amazing character profiles. I associate more than just memories. I associate music and ambiance and flavor and fragrance and sound and texture and feelings. I incorporate entire experiences.
But sometimes, triggers can bring me back to more than I bargained for.
Over ten years ago I was engaged. I shouldn’t have been. But I was a single mom with a young girl. I was lonely, and felt alone. I met a man who showered me with affections. He was not cruel. He was not mean. We just were not a good match. People told us so. We didn’t listen, and after months of dating he proposed. I eventually broke up with him when it was clear we weren’t going to be able to work out some of our more important conflicts. It was the smart thing: to let go. But it was painful. And once again, I felt alone. But more than that: I felt like I deserved to be alone. I’d ignored those who loved me enough to tell me why this wasn’t good. I’d turned my back on the advice of family and friends. I’d asked them to embrace my choice, proclaiming that I knew best.
But I didn’t.
So I deserved to be alone. And hurt.
Or so I thought.
He’d taken me to see the movie “Autumn in New York”. I can’t begin to list the reasons why I love this movie. It’s by no means a classic. It didn’t win any awards. But it had me from the moment the first leaf fell in Central Park to Diana Krall’s “Let’s Fall in Love”. I had the CD soundtrack that I annoyed people with day after day after day. It was, for me, the perfect experience.
And then we broke up. And because I had not just memories but experiences associated with Autumn in New York, I could no longer listen to the music. I never wanted to see the movie. I could never think about someday going to New York.
I just couldn’t.
It pulled at me like sticky spaghetti strings. With any real force, the draw would be broken. I was thankful to live here in the desolate desert where I didn’t have to smell crisp autumn winds or see colored leaves. I could pretend the movie never existed. Because to admit that not only did it exist, but that I liked it, was to admit that I wasn’t perfect. That I longed for something I couldn’t, and shouldn’t, have. It was to admit that I’d failed with my family and friends. And that was the most painful loss of all.
This is the thinking pattern I held to for most major disappointments. I could no longer watch this, hear that, go here, eat there. All because it brought back bad memories. And pain. And shame.
Until eight years later. I just made a decision to change my way of thinking. This part puzzles me, because for all my experience-association, the only thing I remember about this moment is feeling empowered. I’d decided several things in that moment.
I’d decided I wasn’t going to hold on to bad memories. I would recognize them, but no longer let them hold me hostage.
I’d decided I was going to allow myself to remember without experiencing every moment.
I’d decided I wasn’t going to let the memory of a long-ago man dictate how I continued my life without him.
I’d decided it was time to stop avoiding old memories, and instead replace them with new ones.
I’d decided to order the DVD from Amazon.
The next four days were filled with a new excitement for me. It was almost a combination of meeting an old friend and going on a first date. I was finally allowing myself to be me. And to be happy about it.
When the DVD arrived, I wasn’t disappointed. I worried that I’d built it up in my head to be a wonderful theatrical production. It wasn’t. But I already knew that. It was just what I remembered it to be. And it felt good to remember.
Since that moment, I no longer run from my memories. I change them. I don’t let them haunt me and keep me subdued. I make new memories. This is still my town. This is where I live. Work. Love. And have family and the same friends.
I refuse to let an old memory take that from me.
The movie is no longer associated with that man. It’s associated with my love for New York. The restaurant we used to frequent is no longer associated with him. It’s associated with friends and great conversations and possibilities.
Life isn’t something to keep running away from or locked in a closet. It’s something to be treasured, exhibited, and put on display.
Life is something to be proud of. The weaknesses that let others be strong for us. Even the parts that make us stronger for ourselves.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
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Jul 30, 2012 |
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Do you trekaroo? It’s a wonderful website designed to give parents and families honest reviews about hotels, restaurants and activities.
Are you afraid to take your young kids on vacation? Are your teens rolling their eyes at the thought of unplugging? Do you bite your nails at the thought of leaving the comfort of your own home?
You can trust trekaroo. The reviews are written by a community of parents and families. The more, the merrier! More popular attractions have many reviews; or you can be the first!
It’s so helpful to read from someone else who’s “been there, done that”. Let’s face it, Captain Hook knows how to steer a ship, but would you want him planning your tea party? Or would you take advice on how to put young children to sleep in a strange bed, from an old maid? Sure, sometimes. But on a regular basis? I’d rather make a well-informed decision.
My friend Naomi introduced me to trekaroo last fall. She won a trip to Las Vegas for her family. Las Vegas! Did you ever think of Vegas as that family-friendly? Well, people on trekaroo do! They know all the in’s and out’s for children of all ages to have fun without being exposed to the adults-only content.
Oh, yeah. And they have great giveaways, too. Like a trip to Vegas. Or bicycle-strollers. Or kids’ backyard wilderness playsets. How fun is that?
So of course I signed on to read the reviews. And last week I started to post my own. The first two were abridged from reviews here on Frankly, My Dear… but earlier today I ventured to be the first to review a local restaurant.
trekaroo has already said I have “superoo” potential. In their own words, “Trekaroo Superoos are parents with unique characteristics who are able to see the humor amidst the challenges of traveling with their offspring. In fact, they thrive best when exploring and trail blazing with their pack. They are our biggest contributors and eager to help. Superoos inspire other family travelers through the stories they tell, the tips they share, and their insightful recommendations.”
They select their Superoos once a year, usually in the spring. I’ve already got my eyes set on that emblem, and they’ve already got their eyes set on me. But even if they didn’t, I’d still want to be an active community member.
Because I obviously enjoy sharing stories. And I like the idea of families helping families have family-friendly experiences.
Do you trekaroo?
Click here to view my trekaroo passport.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
May 17, 2012 |
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
