Tag: memories

Overcoming Writer’s Block: 300 Words a Day

~ K ~ Leave a comment

Reading Anne Lamott makes me want to write. Is that the mark of a good writer? One who encourages other writers to write?

I am reading Bird by Bird, her book on writing and life. To overcome writer’s block, she encourages her readers (who are writers) to write 300 words a day.

Three hundred words a day. I can do that. Right?

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I have a memory book that I’m writing. In it all are the memories that I can possibly remember. Believe it or not, I don’t remember much. Only about 20 pages’ worth of memories in a small journal out of who knows how many pages possible. 200? Although I have 20 years of journals to sort through and read to remind myself of all the horrible things that have happened to me. Because, of course, I am notorious for recording the negative events in my life rather than the positive ones.

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Perhaps the following really belongs on my depression introspection blog, but I’ve had a really great year. Since my father died 11 years ago, 2012 has been the best year I’ve had mentally. Physically, I’m still dealing with chronic mono, but I hope that 2013 will bring a year of renewed mindfulness and energy. Normally, the fall and winter months (especially the Christmas season) bring with it sadness and depression, but thank the LORD, it’s been at bay this year. I’m finally accepting my father’s death and doing my best to move forward. I’ve accepted the fact that another year has gone by that I’m not a mother, and that’s okay. Forward. It was President Obama’s slogan during his re-election campaign, but it holds so much meaning for me. I will not let a political campaign co-opt a word that describes how I need to look toward the future.

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I am trying to read a Bible chapter daily and pray daily. I am using Health Month to do this. I still have not succeeded in exercising. I do not know that I will ever succeed in exercising. I start then stop, in fits, like traffic on the congested Belt Parkway. I do not know that I have grown closer to God. But I am walking by faith and not by sight (2 Corinthians 5:7). I am reading about the Old Testament God—the Heavenly Father who was all wrath and anger and appeasement by animal sacrifice. I like the New Testament God—Jesus, the Incarnation, who is all love and human and emotional. Reading about God through Genesis makes me so glad for Jesus in the four Gospels.

“Whose god then is God? They all want jurisdiction. In the Book of Earth, whose god spread fear? Spread love?” —Tori Amos

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I fear that my Mac is not long for this world. It is one of the discontinued 13″ white Macbooks (I almost wrote Powerbook—whew!). I don’t use it for anything anymore except to play music and to sync my iPhone to.  It was playing music when the song came upon a discordant note and the note kept playing over and over and over and… well, you get the point. It was like a CD permanently skipping. I had to force restart my Mac by holding down the Power button. But unlike the devotees of Mac, I simply cannot afford to buy a new Mac laptop of any sort. It is much too much expensive. But then again, I haven’t been sucked into the cult of Mac when it comes to computers. If I really loved Macs, I’d spend the money. But I don’t. I’d rather plunk down the cash and get a touchscreen Windows laptop for maybe as much money (or a fraction of the cost—I’m not sure how much touchscreen laptops run these days).

I am definitely an “i” girl. I use iTunes, love my iPhone, own an iPod Shuffle and and iPod Touch, and would like an iPad. Apple has won me over in the mobile department. But I figure I can make things work on Windows if need be. I would plunk down the money for an iPad. I just haven’t yet.

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Look at that. More than 700 words. And the goal was simply to write 300. Can I keep this up? I need to whether it’s through blogging, article writing, or fiction creation. I won’t get better as a writer otherwise.

A eulogy delivered on December 17, 2001

~ K ~ 5 Comments

Me and Daddy

Family, friends, and beloved guests, I want to thank you for attending my father’s memorial service.  Not only was he a devoted brother, husband, and father, but above all, he was a born again child of God.

Even though I’ve lived for only 19 years, I praise God for the memories I shared with my father. I remember my father teaching me how to ride a bike at Eisenhower Park.  Although he did not have a son, I fulfilled that role when he taught me how to play football.  I look back memorably on the last Sunday of each January when my father and I would sit and watch the Super Bowl.  My father has taught me everything I need to kow to watch sports with my future husband.  He taught me that soccer is true football and that no one (but Americans) calls football soccer.  He raised me on cheering for the New York Yankees, but would take me to a Mets game when he had the opportunity.

All the areas of my father’s life seems to be all right but he felt an emptiness that he could not explain.  To fill this longing in his heart, he set out on his quest to find God.  Raised as a staunch Catholic, he realized he could not find what he needed in the traditions of man.  God led him to Bible Baptist Church where he accepted Jesus Christ as his Lord and Savior.  As a born again Christian, he began reading the Bible and learned that he could go directly to God for the forgiveness of his sins, not through a priest.  Because of my father’s earnest efforts to bring me to a Bible-believing church, in July of 1998, I also came to know Jesus Christ as my Savior.

As my father immersed himself in the Bible, God changed his heart and gave him a joy that he had never possessed.  A verse from his favorite Psalm reads, “The Lord is my rock, and my fortress, and my deliverer; my God, my strength, in whom I will trust; my buckler, and the horn of my salvation, and my high tower.”  When trials headed his way, he turned to God for comfort and assistance.  Leaving New York for a Christian college in Florida was not the easiest thing for me to do, but my father was at peace with the decision, knowing that I was doing the will of God.

When people ask how they can help ease the pain of my father’s passing, there’s only one answer: To do what I know my father would want people to do, and that is to believe on the Lord Jesus Christ for the remission of their sins.  Everyone in this room is a sinner.  Romans 3:23 in the Bible says, “For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God.” Romans 6:23 says, “For the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.”  The ultimate punishment of sin is death, but because my father believed upon Jesus Christ’s finished work on the cross, he is now living eternally in heaven with God.  People should be sad today because my father is no longer physically present.  But I know that my father is in a better place right now, not because he deserved to be, but because God made salvation available to my father as He is making it available to everyone here.  John 3:16 says, “For God so loved the world, that he gave His only begotten Son that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.”  Do not focus on my father’s death; instead, I ask you to focus on your eternal destination.  It doesn’t matter whether you’re 19 or 90, each of us will die eventually.  Then where will you go?  There’s a heaven above, a hell below and nothing in between.  Had my father not trusted in Jesus Christ, he would have suffered from eternal torment.

Has there ever been a time in your life when you told God that you believed Jesus Christ died, was buried and resurrected for your sins so that you could have access to the gates of heaven? In John 14:6, Jesus states, “I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life: no man cometh unto the Father but by me.”

Philippians 4:13 emphasizes, “I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.”  If anyone is without Christ, he can do nothing. But I praise God that when He calls me to my home in heaven, I can see my father again.  Can you say with definite assurance that you are on your way to heaven?  If my father’s death has not made you questions your eternal destination, then he will have died in vain.  But if someone here realizes that he is a sheep wandering without a shepherd, the Lord Jesus is beckoning you to come to Him.

August 22, 1942–December 9, 2001

Will You Be There?

~ K ~ Leave a comment

I’ve been feeling really sentimental lately with all these celebrity deaths. As a result, it’s gotten me thinking of my father who passed away in 2001. I was at PCC and he died on Sunday, December 9. It was the week of finals and my family (mother and my dad’s two sisters) thought it’d be better to let me finish up my finals without distractions so they didn’t tell me until they were driving me home from the airport on Saturday, December 14. I got 104 (extra credit) on Mr. Zila’s History test and knew my dad would love to hear that since he loved any grades that were 100+. Instead, I suddenly found myself preparing a eulogy for my father’s funeral on December 17.

Most of you know by now that I’m a huge Michael Jackson (MJJ) fan. Well, you can thank my dad for that. Back in 1992 around the time the Free Willy movie came out, MJJ came out with a song called “Will You Be There.” My father loved that song TONS and back then said he wanted it played at his funeral. Well since I had no hand in funeral preparations (and I was still in the clutches of IFBism), it was never played. It’s something I regret not fighting for. To make up for it, I chose to walk down the aisle to “Will You Be There” as a tribute to my father.

All that to say that 8 years later, I still miss my dad. I’m over the bitterness about my family not telling me my father died sooner because I know they did it in my best interest. (Apparently when my uncle died of AIDS in the early ’90s, they had to give me a sedative to get me to calm down because I was so hysterical. They figured if that’s what happened with my uncle, I’d be ridiculous upon my father’s death. I wasn’t.) I talk to my husband about him but I feel like I’m talking about some imaginary person who never existed. (BTW, I know that’s a redundant phrase.) I don’t know how to keep his memory alive. What makes things worse is that I really lost my dad a long time ago. My father struggled with schizophrenia/paranoia and so the father that I had at 12 was radically different from the father I ended up with when I was 16. He passed away from a heart attack when I was 19. My mom said she watched his eyes fly open and gasp for air. He started foaming out the mouth and couldn’t breathe. She watched him die on their bed in their bedroom. She couldn’t bring herself to talk to me about his passing until a few years later.

Many of the memories I have of my father are fading and that scares me. We used to go to the park and toss around a football even though I was hopelessly nonathletic. (I still enjoyed it immensely.) One Christmas when all my parents could afford was one gift, he found out which CD I wanted the most that year and got it for me (Alanis Morissette’s Jagged Little Pill). When MJJ’s Live in Bucharest concert was being played on VH1 (wow – remember when they used to play music videos?!) after we first got cable, he called me in from my bedroom because he knew I’d love to see it. (His “Smooth Criminal” choreography always amazes me but I found out he stole it from Fred Astaire.) I’m writing this out, hoping it stays with me.

Me and DaddyAnyway, I wrote all that as a partial vent and also to ask how do you keep the memories of your loved ones alive. My husband will never know my father on this earth. My kids (if I ever have any) will think of my dad only as some kind of fairy tale. Pictures of him are limited but here’s one I found and scanned into my computer. I just try to think that he’s still looking down at me and smiling—whether I’m perfect or not.