JUXTAPOSITION

It's been a chaotic fall and early winter. I've been working seven days a week as I divide my time between the clinic and my restaurant job to pay the bills. Yesterday was the first weekend day off we've spent at home as a family since the school year started and it was extraordinary and extraordinarily boring at the same time. I normally work at the clinic all day on Saturdays and then at the restaurant all day on Sunday, but somehow got scheduled off just by coincidence. I had begun to forget how fun Sunday morning FaceTime calls with Mom could be, followed by a homemade breakfast, some errands and shopping, then onto a rainy afternoon spent cuddling with the pups on the couch and watching old movies (Harper picked Return to Oz), a nice homemade meal, and some complicated puzzle-doing to finish up the night. Watching life through Harper's eyes is inspiring and thought provoking. Christmastime has always been a mashup of sadness and joy for me and this year seems to be the same. 2019 has been one of the LONGEST and HARDEST years of my entire life. While there have been so many positive memories, there has been a lot of pain too. My Mom's cancer battle continues as she fights for her life after an excruciating surgery five weeks ago. So many of you have reached out to her and I, and I can actually feel the love and prayers that you are pouring out and into us. Watching anyone you love go through something this horrifying takes a toll on your mental health. I wish I could offer some encouragement or insight, but most days I feel pretty hollow right now if I am being honest and forthright with you...and more importantly myself. For so much of my life I've been able to fake it til I make it and carry on as if the weight of everything was not going to get me down. In a world of Instastories and our online social resume broadcasted for everyone to evaluate and weigh-in on, its hard to keep track of what is real and what is not. But for the past three to four months, I am trying (albeit sometimes still failing) to be more aware of what is happening WITHIN me and honor those feelings as they come up. Part of what is sustaining me is my work. I took a HUGE risk and left a high paying career to chase my dream of becoming a therapist. I was never known for taking risks before this, so I think most people were surprised when I just quit and went for it. The most surprised person was probably myself as I had developed this defense mechanism of thriving on meeting or exceeding other peoples expectations. Now I know what you're thinking at this point...yes, but he must have secret money or something that somehow gave him the ability to take the leap and I really don't. Full transparency alert: We completely cashed out my 401K to pay off remaining debt and make a down payment on tuition. Currently there is $87.65 in our checking account. There is no back up plan, no secret money, no savings whatsoever. "But I just saw photos of you in NYC sitting near the stage at Hamilton and y'all travel ALL OF THE TIME and live such an LUXURIOUS life!" -yeah, thank you credit cards for a high enough limit to swipe it and hope to pay it back someday in the future. The moral of the story is WE ALL HAVE SO MUCH CRAP and things are NOT what they always seem. I love pretending, but the truth can often be brutal. But when I am sitting one on one with someone in my therapy room and I can connect with them on the painful or challenging things that are occurring in their lives all of that risk and uncertainty I took is worth it. And I know that I am exactly where I am supposed to be. I feel electricity pulsating throughout my body. Even typing about it is giving me chills. If I have learned anything from the death via suicide of my father, loss of my sister to cancer, heartache and heart break, troubled family relationships, and now another cancer battle with Mom it's that you have to still search for those pricks of light even when everything seems dark and dismal. I have a tattoo across my chest that says 'faith' in my own handwriting and links to 'love' written over my ribs. When my sister got sick with cancer, the doctor said all you need is FAITH, LOVE, and HOPE so I got a third tattoo of the word 'hope' printed multiple times starting at my sternum and going straight down my stomach all the way to my pubic bone. The words match the scar left after her major surgery, and interestingly my Mom's recent surgery incision is almost identical. This has become a constant reminder to me every time I catch a glance of myself in the mirror that tomorrow is a new day, and after the storm comes a rainbow. As we began wrapping up our family day yesterday, a coworker sent me a text asking to switch shifts so I ended up having a second day in a row to myself: TODAY! I am currently curled up in my bed drinking a sweet cup of coffee with a book right next to me that I've been dying to read and am going to have a self-care day. I have no agenda, no plans whatsoever. And that feels really really good. Bring it on 2020, I am ready for you.

Back to Life, Back to Reality

It has been a whirlwind summer and today we all go back to our regular routines. Harper is now in her third week of third grade and tomorrow I begin the final Practicum Clinical part of my graduate school as a student therapist at a counseling center here in Hollywood! It's hard to think that in a few short days I'll be assigned my first clients with the honor (and also responsibility) of becoming their counselor. We had a very short summer as Harper's school got out in late June and went back in mid-August. We all took off for Reno, Nevada in the first week of August for our annual pilgrimage to the Lahontan Reservoir. This was my twelfth adult trip out to the lake and I couldn't help but reflect at all of the memories made on this tiny area of Northern Nevada. When you are out there and take a few minutes to breathe, you see a million stars and I become flooded with millions of thoughts too. I'll never forget the first trip when I was twenty-one and re-meeting the entire O'B family; I was filled with nerves so my sister Crystal and her daughters who were 3 months old and 2 years old came out for support. It became our tradition and in the years after, so many other important people in my life joined in on the fun. When Harper was three months old, her aunt was in a car accident on the way to the lake and I can remember being so frightened. The year Michael Jackson died we all screamed out in disbelief as the news came over the radio. Bocce ball, jet skis, tree swings, boating, tubing, and let's face it LOTS and LOTS of drinking too; it's hard to imagine a meaningful summer and not associate it with that trip. This year, those same girls who were three months and two years came out, except now they are fourteen and sixteen years old and the most vibrant, hilarious, witty, smart, kind, and truly beautiful young women. And while it's been six years that their Mom has been gone, they are so filled with her amazing spirit, zest for life, and man do they look (and sound) just like her too. We all returned to LA together and the girls (my nieces, Harper, and I) went on a Hollywood tour and spent a day at Six Flags before Mom arrived from Detroit. It had been many years since Mom got to see my nieces and she's been battling cancer since the beginning of the year. She's been focused on her recovery and being well enough to enjoy the trip, and man-oh-man did we ever enjoy our time with her. We all spent a day in Santa Monica followed by a long weekend in Palm Springs with friends and family before Harper started school. My poor baby was so exhausted by the 12-day-non-stop-extravaganza that she ended up missing the majority of her first week of school due to a gnarly virus. Grandma Kim (Harper's other grandma and my Mom's best friend of many years) joined us and they took care of their sick girl and Mom and I went to a taping of Will and Grace (sooo fun) and the following night Sabin took her to a movie premiere with Jamie Foxx, Michael B. Jordan, and Bree Larsen! She really got the full Hollywood experience and it was so awesome to see her feeling better and kicking cancer's ass. This was my first birthday celebrated with my Mommy since I turned 17, and it was so sweet and awesome to have everyone together. We played lots of card games, had tons of laughs, and I am still in awe of her fighting and determined spirit. Mom left and a two days later my friend Kellie and her family arrived from New Jersey. Another Hollywood tour day followed by another amazing weekend in Palm Springs (can I just move there already?) happened this weekend, sitting pool side and enjoying the company and presence of those I love so deeply. My mantra this summer has been "BE HERE NOW" and I even had it printed on a piece of art in my living room for a frequent reminder. Next month we've planned a trip to the Poconos to celebrate another great friend and in February I am reuniting with my crew from college after many years of distance and life simply happening. A few lessons I've learned this summer: 1) Sometimes BEING HERE NOW isn't very fun, but it's still important. 2) Try to breathe a few deep breaths and appreciate what is in front of you right now. 3) I am human, I will make mistakes. 4) Mental health is important. Don't skip sessions with your therapist in months filled with so much stuff. 5) Take a few seconds to be GRATEFUL for what you do have. 6) Take a few seconds to be MINDFUL and set INTENTION for what you need. 7) Tell people how much they mean to you and how much you love them. 8) "If you can't love yourself, how the hell you gonna love someone else?"-RuPaul. Onward to regular life, meal prep, working, and getting stuff done.

Half Way Done

It's hard to believe that we are just now at the half-way mark of the year 2019. This has been one of the longest and most challenging years I've faced as an adult and somehow I am holding onto a small piece of optimism for the second half. I am learning (literally and figuratively) so much about human behavior and why and how we act and behave certain ways. Why is it that in crisis and stressful events so many people lose their minds? Turns out there is a biological and physiological explanation. Even when armed with the scientific understanding, it still doesn't help much in regular every day life. Especially when some people thrive in chaos and truly don't want or are incapable of getting and keeping help. Somehow when someone you love deeply is presented with a terminal illness, everything else seems so minor and trivial. I've begun focusing on putting my attention where it counts and attempting to be more present in the moment and not allow these distractions to, well...distract...me. So much of my past was based on gut-reactions and internalizing and evaluating every single thing placed at my feet. I am a "fixer" and "peace maker" and "decision maker" and someone people looked to for answers and direction. I'll still be those things because they make up who I am but with the pressure of being a full time student, worker, dad, husband, and the list just goes on and on, I honestly don't have the time or mental capability to balance it all so I just take each day as it comes and keep my focus on the relationships that are reciprocal. I love Brene Brown (seriously watch her Netflix special TODAY if you haven't already), and I remember her in a podcast several years ago talking about the gas-fillers and the gas-takers. We all need people who refill our emotional and spiritual tanks and whom you do the same for. Gone are the days for me where I give and give with nothing in return and feel depleted...I'll allow my future clients to pay me for that energy, thank you very much! Speaking of future clients, I was selected to begin my work with real clients in September at a community clinic in North Hollywood! I digressed, but in my regular non-therapist work, I want to laugh a lot. I want to have real-authentic conversations and look you in the eye, preferably over a glass of nice wine. I want to play Nintendo into the wee hours of the morning with my husband as we jam out to Katy Perry or Kirk Franklin or whomever. I want to reply to sweet and thoughtful text messages to a mother-in-law that I never dreamt would even message me to begin with. I want to send funny mi-mojis to my niece and remind her how much she is loved. I want to swim in pools with friends, drag my feet in the sand, barbecue on the back patio, wake board at lake, sleep under the stars. I want to have picnics in the park with my daughter and dogs and watch her read her Hamilton books with so much joy and wonder. And for the first time in a long time, I am going to do just that. Here's to Act II of 2019, bring it on!

A Birthday Love Letter

I never really paid that much attention to birthdays before I met you. Of course, I celebrated and had parties and such, but it didn't really FEEL like that big of a deal. To be fair, I had trouble FEELING much of anything at all. Then I met you, my love, and then I got see someone every day who lives each moment like it's their last. Laughs. A lot. And just like that, I was forced to see how beautiful life can be when you take the wheel and jump in the drivers seat. You are inspiring, and it isn't just me who feels that way. Part of me is jealous and anxious that everyone loves you so much. I'd love to steal away all of that positivity and energy and warmth and keep it all to myself. Somedays I do. But you are the most YOU sitting in the middle of a large circle of people, smiling and joking and criss-crossing the energy back and forth. It's like watching the most brilliant Broadway musical the way you can captivate anyone who gets the pleasure of interacting with you. You're confident, but not cocky (well....most of the time). You're charming but not a pushover. You're emotionally present without being overly emotional. Sometimes I just sit back and watch as you navigate the walkway of a mall or enter a building or meet someone new. You slightly arch your back and walk in with such confidence, no matter what you might find inside you know who you are and you aren't willing to sacrifice THAT for anything. I have to be honest, sometimes when you're home alone with our girl, I watch the home video cameras. Not because I am trying to spy, but just the way you look at her and treat her with dignity, lovingness, and joy makes my heart burst. You fill her glass of milk about 3/4 full as to not spill, but also so that she gets the right amount to drink. When it's early in the morning, you just lay there and pretend to sleep but I see you constantly checking on her and watching in amazement at the person she is. With her, you, and I we can take on the world. You are my world. Thanks for always reminding me that we get this one shot at life. You are my teacher, a constant source of strength. It's hard to remember life without you, when I see pictures from before you I think you might be in the

other room and that's why you're not there. You've given me new life and on this day, just like every other day, we celebrate your life. Thanks for always being you! -AJFR

Mom's Cancer Battle Update

I spent a full week with my Mom as she battles Stage III Rectal Cancer. It’s been overwhelming, terrifying, challenging, beautiful, and harmonious all at the same time. I feel like 2019 has perhaps been thirty-six months long so far, when in reality it’s only been two. I arrived to Detroit last Saturday with my posse in tow, my amazing and supportive husband and my big blue eyed girl that makes everything better. Honestly, preparing for the trip, I had no idea what to expect. Mom is under a rigorous chemotherapy and radiation regimen that will last five weeks. The first week included chemotherapy that is attached to her and distributed over the course of a week. By the time we’d arrived, the first week was over and this mysterious chemo attachment had been removed. I was so excited on the flight from Los Angeles to Detroit, but I was also worried. I had been to see my sister along her cancer journey and every time our eyes met I was presented with a different version of cancer. Would Mom be unable to walk and talk? Would her hair be falling out in clumps and how could I possibly explain this all to a seven-year-old whose only exposure was her dying Aunt. ***Sidenote…would you believe me if I told you Chicago Midway does NOT have a Starbucks?!?*** When we first locked eyes, Mom looked like she’s always looked. Hopeful, and funny, and determined. I was so cold and shivering that I really didn’t take the moment to really LOOK at her. It just seemed like a spring break trip and the fam jam and I had arrived for a fun visit. I got to visit with my Aunt Colleen, who is my Godmother and someone I have laughed with endlessly my whole life. We all made small talk and tried to navigate the range of emotions we’ve all been feeling, but it was nice to be there. To physically see for myself what the heck was going on. My Aunt Donna, Mom’s best friend since childhood, met us at home with a home-cooked meal of Spaghetti and Meatball...man-oh-man must she know my daughter well...and we enjoyed visiting and talking and laughing and maybe a few tears of crying. I am terrible with expressing emotions. When I feel that tickle in my throat that leads to a cry, I know the perfect remedy to make it subside. Swallow hard twice and keep it moving. I kept looking at my Mom. I would stare for a few moments when she’d engage with someone else so she couldn’t see me stare and really observe. “What’s actually happening in there?” I’d ask myself and try to figure it all out. Sunday night I got to visit with my Gramma; we did the math and I think it’s been nine years since I’d seen her. She is beautiful, always has been and always will be to me. We share something so special, I can hardly put it into words. And my wonderful Uncle and his beautiful wife, they’ve all been so amazing as Mom navigates this crazy and scary and wild journey. A few things I know for sure. 1) Cancer absolutely sucks. 2) You only get one family and you need to treasure every moment...even the difficult, uncomfortable, or crazy moments. 3) Your Mom is way stronger than you know...she carried you inside of her body for 40 weeks (or 42 in my case) and is a superstar. 4) We can only be our own authentic truth of a self and expect nothing in return. The week with Mom was hard at times. I hate to see anyone I love so very sick. But, I have to be honest with everyone including myself. I didn’t know what a fighter she was until I saw her face to face. She can somehow prepare herself for battle day in and day out for radiation, knowing it would wipe her out for the rest of the night. Illness is a strange thing. The evenings and nights are much harder than daylight; it’s almost if God also has to sleep at night too or something? Isn’t it that way with most illness though, not just cancer? If I could take some of the pain away I would in a heartbeat. I’ve always loved being in charge and calling the shots, but with illness you don’t get that luxury. You have to take each hour, or minute really, as they come and just go with it. As Mom's treatments are daily at the same time, I watched as dozens of other fighters arrived while I waited in the lobby. So many people are fighting with no one; they too find the strength to fight even without support. I wanted to hug them all and offer to drive them or come cook them a meal. Mom's oncologist says the ones who have the most success are surrounded in love of family and friends, and she has that in spades. My husband is my superhero. As we watched my sister leave this earth together and again now as my Mom battles this awful disease, he is always there steadfast in hope and reminding me that no matter what it’ll all be OK. I have no idea how this journey ends, but I know my Mom is strong, I am hopeful, and somehow someway this’ll all work out and teach us something at the same time.

The C Word

When my sister Crystal died of ovarian cancer in 2013, I somehow thought that meant my family and I could somehow sigh in relief. It was the most horrific and challenging part of my life thus far. And as hard as it was, I thought that meant that we had paid our dues and could move forward putting the awful C word behind us. I learned so much about cancer during Crystal's journey. She documented it in her blog here: https://www.caringbridge.org/visit/crystalheimgartner/journal Truth be told, I just cringed a bit having to login to the journal to post the link and left as soon as I could cut and paste it. Five years later and seeing her thoughts and feelings about the disease still shakes me to my core and I am unable to read about it again. However, I am so grateful it is there so when my heart is ready I can relive the journey with her. She also made beautiful tributes to her girls in there several times and one post even especially about me. It is a treasure to have and something I am eternally grateful for. Before Crystal's journey, I knew nothing about cancer. Like nothing. Like most people, I imagined it to be this awful disease (disclaimer it is) but honestly I had no idea what it actually even was. Over the years, I learned the difference between a CT scan and PET scan; what scan showed what and how they were integrated into treatment. I learned how a biopsy is performed and how a radiologist determines what the mass actually is. I also read every book imaginable, including all of the hippie-dippie Susan Somers books about holistic non-medical treatments (stop rolling your eyes all of you science geeks). I learned that many tumors LOVE sugar and how marijuana can be integrated into treatment. I learned about raw foods and vitamin supplements and chemotherapy and radiation all work. I watched specials about John of God, Mexican treatment facilities, German experimental treatments, and the list goes on and on. I learned how the stages of cancer are assigned by your oncologist (a doctor who specializes in cancer). I learned what the cellular makeup of a tumor looks like and saw raw images of tumors taken from my sisters own body. I learned that nurses are angels sent straight from God to care for others and always be nice to them no matter how much you are hurting. And again, on that day when she died somehow I took all of the knowledge and bagged it up in a trash bag and threw it away, thinking I'd never ever ever have to access it again. And I was thankful for that; "good riddance" I told it. I actually had a therapy session where I said good bye to all of that information to help clear my mind and try to get back to some sort of "normal" without my sister. Part of that session was a reminder to myself that knowledge in this case does not necessary equal power as every human is unique and I wasn't going to outsmart cancer no matter how much I studied it. I really didn't like hearing that, but hey I was never going to use it again anyway so I obliged my therapist and said I agreed. And then Saturday night happened. I was out celebrating a dear friends birthday when that damn trash bag got thrown back into my world. Five years later, it smells like utter and complete shit after festering for five plus years, but it's still there packed full of things I never wanted to think about or remember again. To God, the Universe, or whomever---I really wanted to keep the damn bag in the dump. I never wanted to see it, think about, or most importantly feel it again. But here it is, right at the doorstep of my heart banging to come back in and do this journey again. For those of you that know me well (which is pretty much all of you reading this), you know I will be fine. Part of being in graduate school to become a therapist is a very rigorous self-therapy program for yourself so I have support. Not to mention my support system in all of you and my amazing husband and daughter who give me strength I didn't ever realize I had before them. You know that my family and I will fight with every single fiber of our being. But this SUCKS! I am angry and frustrated and confused and angry and did I say angry? I am and will forever be a Momma's boy. I don't know anyone as close with their Mom as me and mine. We speak on the phone for hours each week. She's funny, she has a heart of gold, and is one of the kindest most loving and accepting people on this planet. But also, when you fuck with her...or me for that matter...we will WIN! And if we don't we will fight like hell on the way out. You know the very best part about my Mom, though? She nailed being a Mom. She spoke to me like a grown up from early on, told me I could tell her anything (and I have), and I knew she would never waver. If I killed someone, she told me to call her and she'd help me bury the body. And she meant (and still means) it. I can't think of a more beautiful gift to your child than them knowing that you'll stand with them no matter what they do or say or how they act and love them through it. I am so beyond grateful for support of everyone in my life. The number of calls and texts and meals and love I can feel from my front porch here in Los Angeles and it is soooooo appreciated. We are just at the beginning of this and don't have enough answers for anyone, or ourselves for a few more weeks. One thing I did learn (the hard way) on Crystal's journey is to allow the person fighting the disease to choose for themselves how they want to fight, what treatments they'll undergo, and how they want to take on this monster. Everyone has an opinion or a story of something that worked for them or a theory or a story of a loved one who did this or did that or went here, and I know it is meant in good faith but I ask that you allow Mom to choose for herself what she wants to do, how she wants to do it, and surround her with positivity and strength in whatever her heart and body decides is right for her. Now to the C word. GO. FUCK. YOURSELF.