Life, Death, and my favorite man

Before I jump in to the meat of today's post, let's all take a second and welcome Annie Marie Hall to the world. Born this morning, to my lovely cousin Christine and her husband Jeremy, Annie (which is just the cutest name ever!) will join her sister Lily in making one of the sweetest families I know.

While I am rejoicing that my family has gained a new little lovely, my heart is full of the most immense sorrow. Yesterday, my dearest grandfather, Peter August Gomes, Jr. passed away. We've known and expected his death for a few months now, but not that long ago, he was bossing me around and checking in on my day to day business.

I had a very special relationship with my grandfather. He was my favorite man in the whole world. He was superman. He could do anything. As a child, I was certain that he must be bff's with the President of the United States, because Grandpa knew just everything and just everyone. People would ask me if I was knew "Pete" just about every where I went. Grandpa was just that involved.

I loved this man with my whole heart and soul. I based my very identity on his very identity. I am Pete's Granddaughter. Through and through. I cannot speak ill of the man. I know he has flaws. I have seen the handiwork of some of his greater ones (i.e. much of my father), but to me he was never anything but wonderful. He loved me, provided for me, and he showed up all the time. No occasion was complete without him. I became Catholic largely because of who he has been to me.

I remember his smell and how it changed over the years from one of cigar smoke to one of clean laundry. I remember his gruff expectations when I was a child and how much delight and fear I had whenever I sat next to him at the dinner table. I was "Baby", always. Even at 23, when I was going through Catechism to be confirmed, he would introduce me to his church buddies saying, "And this is Baby". I was his girl. Sweet and obedient always for that man. I would have done anything for him.

I have grieved for so many people in the last few years my life. I have been plagued by death and cannot seem to run far enough or fast enough for death to not catch up to me. Never, though, has there been grief like this. A piece of my heart died yesterday. I know I will heal, I know it's not tragic, I know that he needed to go. I know most certainly that what he has been and is still to me will never change. I know that he is still with me as much as he ever was, because he made me so much of who I am. But still my heart is broken and I am lost, because this man, my favorite man, is dead.

I honestly cannot wait to be held by him in Heaven.

26, single, and sick

I love being 26. I love being single. I hate being those two things while I am sick. I am such a pathetic mess when I am ill. I just want tomato soup and crackers and hot tea. I want .... wait wait wait. I am just realizing that I am pretty sure I wrote nearly this same post last year. Oh dear. I am pathetic. 

My nose is swollen. Not from the sickness, but from a huge bruise. My nephew threw his fat head back into my nose last night. After a loud pop, I felt my head whoosh and my body sway. I woke up this morning with a purple bruise spreading across my nose and now that my nose is stuffed, I am feeling particularly silly. I can't blow my nose, I can't wipe my nose, I can't even laugh without the pain my face exploding through the rest of my head. 

So here I sit on my sofa, watching stupid chick flicks and drinking coffee, waiting for the moment when I can drive to my mother's house for soup and bread (because my debit card was cancelled before my new one arrived so I cannot access the heaps of money I have sitting in the bank). 

What a waste of a perfectly good Sunday.

Excepting, Accepting, and Expecting

The last 10 days have brought on a whole new world. Except not really, but totally kind of actually. I know that doesn't make sense, so let me try to explain.

On Thursday, September 23rd - the day after I found out I don't have the cancer gene and also the day after my father finished his treatments - I found out through an extremely large conference call that my company was about to go through the most drastic of changes, which would put everyone in every office in a bit of turmoil for possibly weeks. After the conference call I found out that I was most likely without a job, but that I was welcome to apply and try to compete for a position. So I did.

I was upset, but very excited. I wanted the opportunity to leave marketing. I love marketing, but not as a full time portion of my job. I'd rather do it for fun on the side, not as my full time work. Service is my full time heart. I thought about going back to teaching pre-school or doing something equally fulfilling. I wanted to be thrilled at the prospect of a new adventure. The only problem was the very big "EXCEPT..." blocking my view of a new future.

Except, my company didn't want me anymore. Except, why was I not good enough? Except, I've never lost a job before. Except, I am awesome, right? Except, except, except...

After days of excepting, I began accepting. I started applying for new jobs and I began to bolster myself and research how to bargain for a great severance package. I went to see my dear friend for a great man hug that would make everything okay. I discussed what I could do with my amazing severance (buy a new car, go to Beirut, and pay off school loans!) Accepting is a hard business.

The very last thing I thought of doing was Expecting. I did not expect to get a job through my current company. I thought I didn't stand a chance. So much so that I sounded rather intense and angry in my interview, because I just really didn't think I would get it. When that little call came, I was shocked, thrilled, and totally left expecting.

Now I sit with the knowledge of a new position, expecting a totally new life. I expect to love being out of marketing. I expect that working from home will suit my nature completely. I expect to adore being over Seattle AND Portland so that I can visit my second favorite city with more regularity. I expect to do well... after over a year of just scraping by.

I expect to have time for relationships. I expect to make this a great success. In 10 days I have learned that excepting must lead to accepting... which with hope always becomes expecting.

Woo.