12 of 12 - September 2010

Sorry all - I needed to take down my September 12 of 12 post. Not sure if I'll be reposting anything in it's place or not.

12 of 12 - August 2010

Happy 12 of 12. Check at Chad Darnell's blog for the master 12 of 12 list with links to all the other 12 of 12ers. And remember Chad's name, cause he's gonna be an Academy Award winning screenwriter one day soon. :-)

My 12th was spent once again at the doctor's. I've got to stop letting them schedule me on the 12th, cause I have way too many photos of the hospital, x-ray machines, blood, needles, etc. in 12 of 12s past. I don't want to see them anymore, and I'm sure no one else does either. But unfortunately, this month, that's most of what I got.

So let's begin.

6:55 a.m. - View from my bed. Looks like the sun is creeping up on me again. I rarely sleep anymore, but I try. Of course, most of my good sleep comes about 15 minutes before the alarm goes off. Trying to get in a little early today since I'm only working a half day and have tons of stuff that has to be finished before I go.

7:15 a.m. - Getting prepped for the doctor. They can never get a good vein when they take my blood, and I'm already squeamish about it to begin with. I've even passed out a time or two (or 7) when they've stuck me, so I've learned all kinds of tricks to try and make it go easier for me. Trick #1 is to start drinking lots of water 24 hours ahead of the appointment. (This has the added benefit of also helping if you have to give another type of sample as well.) So, here are a couple of bottles to get me started (plus 2 more I left in the fridge at work.)

7:17 a.m.- Trick #2 is to take something to focus on that makes me happy so that I won't focus on them sticking me. I've used a lot of things over the years, but this is one that has helped me the last few times. It is a photo from a friend that has special meaning to me. I had it made into a wallet size so that I can whip it out whenever they start tying the little rubber thing around my arm.

7:17 a.m. - Trick #3 - Previous lab results. I get copies every time I have blood work done, because if it has only been a few weeks, some of my doctors will take this in lieu of doing it over again. This works once in a while. It didn't work today.

12:48 p.m. - Piedmont Fayette Hospital, oh how I hate you. It's a nice hospital and all, I just hate being there since that's where Daddy was through most of his final illness. But all of my doctors are in this building, so what can I do?

12:55 p.m. - Kind of a weird reflection thing going on between the two sets of windows on either side of the glass doors going into the doctor's office.

1:12 p.m. - Trick #4 - Have them use a butterfly on you instead of what the smart-ass technician referred to as a "grown-up" needle. The butterflies are a little easier for them to fish with when my vein inevitably runs and hides. Looks like they found one on the first try.......

1:30 p.m. - Yep - just looked like it. That one blew out before the first tube filled up. Ended up with two sticks in my arm...


1:37 p.m. - before they ended up going to my hand, which still hurts hours later. Seems that none of my tricks worked today. And it just got worse after that. I'll just say that blood was not all they wanted from me today, and the next set of photos would have involved longer needles, my hip and me weeping uncontrollably. Needless to say, the camera got put away and I need to have my photo from Trick #2 reprinted cause it got crumpled pretty badly.


4:00 p.m. - Finally getting ready to flee from the torture. View of the hospital parking lot from the 4th floor. Can you spot my car/truck? You know, from this distance, you can't even tell that it needs to be washed.

4:10 p.m. - Passed the lake on the way home and stopped for a few minutes to get out and kind of meditate on it all. Of course, the heat, combined with my light-headedness, was not a good combination so it didn't last long. So I went home and took a nap.

9:00 p.m. - Woke up and went upstairs to try and finish cleaning out the guestroom closet. This baby was completely full 2 weeks ago. But I've lost 50 pounds in the last few months (which made me happy, but not my doctor for some strange reason) and so I went in and tried on just about everything up there in the last few weeks. Ended up donating about 100 items. Now all that remains are all my winter coats, my concert t-shirts from the 80s and 90s, a few other keep sake clothing items and my Dad's flight jacket. Now I can actually have a guest stay with me and have room to hang their clothes. And for the record, that little black spot on the wall of the closet? It isn't really there. I went back up there and the wall is completely white. I cleaned my lens and took the photo again, and it was still in the photo. Too strange.

So, guess that's it. See you next month, if not sooner.

12 of 12 - July 2010

Here we are with July's 12 of 12, and pardon me, but this as been the most f....ed up day. It was sunny, it rained, it was sunny again, then it rained again. It was even sunny and raining at the same time. And as the weather went, so did my mood - up and down, up and down. I woke up happy and by the evening I was curled up in my childhood bed in the guestroom bawling my eyes out. As soon as I post this baby, I'm taking a Xanax and calling it a day.

So, for those new to the 12 of 12, it is the brainchild of Chad Darnell. Check out his blog and the links to other 12 of 12er's around the world.

4:05 a.m. - I never sleep more than a couple of hours, so I was up at 4:00 in the morning watching videos on YouTube. Close up screen shot from a video I'd sent to a friend earlier in the night.

6:50 a.m. - Grabbing my water for work. I hate the new thin plastic bottles that Aquafina uses now. Yes, they are supposed to be better for the environment, but the problem is that when you grasp the bottle to twist the cap off, the weak plastic collapses in your hand and the water comes spewing up out of the top as the cap loosens and half the water ends up on you.

12:45 p.m. - Lunch time trip to the post office. I went to the post office last 12 of 12 too, but it was the 24 hour post office down the road from this one. It occurred to me that technically, the 24 hour post office is called that because they are open 24 hours a day, every day, but really the service is so slow there that it kind of feels like you've been there for 24 hours when you finally get finished, so that could also be the reason. .

12:57 p.m. - So you know how the part of the post office with the boxes always sounds so echo-ey? Well, last week my friend in TX was telling me that he was all alone in the empty post office on a Sunday and it was echo-ey so he started singing a Christmas carol (Do you Hear What I Hear?) to enjoy it. So, as I was leaving the post office and got to the part with the boxes and I remembered that story, so I started singing the same song. Only, I wasn't alone. There was a guy ahead of me and a lady coming in the door. They both looked at me like I was a nut, and the guy kind of hurried out the door (to get away from the crazy lady) but the lady started laughing with me and commented that someone just breaking out in song was sort of like an episode of Glee. :-)

12:58 p.m. - Outside the post office, snapped this close up of the tree in front of my car. See how pretty the sky is behind it?

4:16 p.m. - Yeah, well, that didn't last. Started raining, thundering and lightning over my skylight. Got a little bit scary, it was coming down so hard. And of course, that was right about the time I was getting ready to leave for an appointment with my physical therapist downtown.


4:35 p.m. - Stopped in the hangar on the way out and got a unique perspective of the nose gear on the Spirit of Delta 767 from underneath. Liked the way the overhead light made everything red.
4:55 p.m. - On I-85N heading into Atlanta, just south of the capitol building. Weird thing about this photo is that while the sun is shining, it was actually still raining. (My windshield wiper had just cleared the rain from my windshield.) I always get a little creeped out when it is both sunny and rainy at the same time. It feels wrong.

4:58 p.m. - Almost at my exit and the rain is about gone again. Got the Georgia Pacific Building, the Peachtree Plaza Hotel, SunTrust Plaza and the AT&T building among others in that shot.

6:37 p.m. - and an hour and a half later, we are back raining again. Some of the same buildings in this shot. As I took this photo, "In the Air Tonight" came on the radio. Now that song, especially when the sky is all black and ominous, scares the crap outta me.

6:39 p.m. - No idea what I was trying to capture in this photo, as I tend to just snap without looking when I drive and hope for the best. But I liked the Coca-Cola sign as a little logo in the lower half of the shot of my rain soaked window.

7:47 p.m. - I was already really upset over a couple of things that had happened earlier in the day, and then got a bit shaken up by almost getting hit by a tanker truck right before my exit on the way home, so I went upstairs to my guestroom, crawled into my childhood bed and under the quilt that my great-aunt made for me and cried for about 45 minutes. When I finally settled down, it was sunny again.

9:05 p.m. - and finally my bonus photo - a recreation from last month's 12 of 12. The hat from the photo of the photo that my friend in TX (yes, him again) sent me to make me laugh. Well this month, he sent me the actual hat. So here it is again, covering my wet head.

Guess that's all for today. Hopefully I'll be taking a Xanax nap within the hour. See you next month.

12 of 12 - June 2010

A sad 12 of 12 for me today, as I lost my father last week on the 3rd. To say that the last week has been difficult would, of course, be an understatement. It just seems unreal that it has been over a week since I've seen him or talked to him. I keep thinking he is just on a trip and will be home soon. I know I have a lot of rough days ahead of me as it all becomes real.

I appreciate the many kind words and displays of sympathy from so many friends and family members, especially those who have already lost a parent and where therefore able to give me some insight and perspective into what was going on. I'm also thankful to those closest to me who have managed to give me constant love and support while also giving me the space I need to try and grieve in my own way. It is a delicate balance, but you (and you each know who you are) have given me just what I've needed as I've needed it.

Sleeping has been the hardest part - I just hate to go to bed because if my brain gets too silent, I end up getting really sad and so I end up climbing back up out of bed and roaming the house working on random projects...

2:15 a.m. - ...like an astrological reading for a friend (Pisces with a Capricorn ascendant). My aunt Charlsie was a world-renowned astrologer with thousands of clients around the globe. She taught me how to plot a chart and do a reading when I was a preteen. She did many readings for me over the years, advising me on boyfriends (this one is a double Leo - he loves himself more than he will ever love you) and career moves (your true destiny won't open up to you until you are almost 50, so just make sure you learn all you can and enjoy what you are doing in the meantime). She always did the math herself and plotted each chart by hand with a ruler and colored pencils. I always feel like a cheat when I run a chart from a computer program.

11:30 a.m. - Had about 2 hours of sleep, then piddled around the house until a little before noon and than headed down to Mom's to write thank you notes. I just snapped the clouds, but when I loaded the photos, I thought it looked like a dinosaur or dragon's head about to bite something.


12:15 p.m. - While at Mom's, we went through a few of Dad's clothes, picking some to donate and some to keep. This is a keeper - his flight jacket from his dear friend Gabe at Boeing.

12:16 p.m. - it even has his nickname sewn into the lining.

2:10 p.m. - So, this is a joke that got out of hand. Way out of hand. I was having my hair cut and colored Thursday evening, and I got a text from my friend JD suggesting I color it pink (it was occasionally pink back when we knew each other in the 80s.) I got my friend and stylist Brooke to pull out the pink hair color so I could take a photograph and send it as a joke. Somewhere along the line, the joke became a reality as Brooke convinced me that a pink streak would be fun. So, here you go - Retro Joni. (By the way, no, that is not an overexposed photo. I really am that white.) Thank God he didn't make a joke about me getting a tattoo or an additional piercing, cause sometimes I will do anything to make a friend laugh.

2:17 p.m. - Went next door to see Katie and stumbled across her cat Bob. Hi Bob. (Drink!)

2:27 p.m. - Puzzle that Katie and Brian (mostly Brian) were working on. I stared for about 10 minutes and finally found two pieces that fit together. Least I think they were supposed to be together. Brian might have pretended they did just so I would be satisfied that I contributed and finally leave and not mess with his puzzle any more.

2:40 p.m. - and on to the real reason I went to see Katie - sonogram photos. They found out that they are having a boy, and here is his little foot. I would have shown the photo that determined he was a boy, but that seemed a little bit too sketchy of a thing to do to the poor kid. I mean, would you like the neighbor lady showing your stuff on her blog before you ever knew what a blog was?? Did I mention that after my fall down the stairs last month, Katie has decided that maybe she won't be calling on me for babysitting duty after all. Although, thanks to me and my clumsiness, she does now know the direct route to one of the local ERs in case she ever needs to know.

3:55 p.m. - Went over to Lowes with my neighbor David to get some soil to plant the beautiful hydrangea plants that several of my friends sent for Dad's services. While we were there, we checked out some of the other flowers and plants.

4:12 p.m. - and I ended up with 2 more hydrangea to fill out the area where we are going to plant them tomorrow after church.

8:10 p.m. - After an attempt at a nap (I slept 45 whole minutes!), I ran by work to pick up something I left on Friday. This is my bonus shot - a recreation of a shot of the windows from the outside of the hanger in my February 2010 12 of 12 entry. The photo above was taken of the same windows from inside the hangar.

9:05 p.m. - and then I stopped by the 24 hour post office to mail a package. There is always about 20-30 people in line at that post office no matter what time I go. Of course, there is also only 1 agent working while the other 6 windows are always closed, so it takes for ever to get through the line. But I'm getting closer - only 3 more folks ahead of me.

10:05 p.m. - Back home finally, and here is my final photo. It is really just a photo of a photo that my friend in Texas sent me from his shopping expedition today. I would say it related to an inside joke, but I'm sure most of you already have an idea of what that inside joke is in reference to. What can I say? Sometimes we both still have the sense of humor of two 12 year olds. But it made me laugh, and I need to laugh, so good job on that one.

Guess that is it. Hope you enjoyed.

D-Day

My father passed away this past week. I've pretty much been on auto-pilot ever since. I want to write more about the last few days, but it is all still very raw and painful. So instead of focusing on his death, I'd like to focus some more about his life and the things he left me with. I know my entries of late have already been a bit on the emotional side, but I hope you will bear with me as writing helps me both heal and honor him as best I can.

Today is the 66th Anniversary of the D-Day invasion. Now, my father was a very patriotic man, but he never served in the military. Dad was in the ROTC in high school, and he and his classmates proudly stood honor guard in East Point, GA as the train carrying the body of President Franklin Roosevelt returned to Washington, DC from Warm Springs, GA following his death in 1945.

He planned on enlisting after high school and follow in the footsteps of several of his uncles and older cousins, but was turned down because of a broken arm (football injury) that never healed correctly and impacted his ability to hold and fire a rifle properly. So instead, he went on to college at Georgia State. Shortly after that, his own father passed away suddenly and Dad left school to go to work in order to help his mother take care of his younger brother and baby sister. But he was so very proud when his younger brother Paul grew up and joined the Navy during the Korean War.

As I was growing up, Dad always wanted to make sure that I was aware of the sacrifices that others made so that we could live free. Every year a few days before the school year started, Dad would call me out into the backyard where we would sit on the steps, and he would give me "The Speech." The Speech was the talk he gave me to explain how lucky we were in our country be provided with the opportunity to go to school and receive a good education. He would explain how children in some parts of the world didn't have that chance, and how in some countries, little girls were not afforded an opportunity to go to school at all. Then, he would explain to me that while I would pay nothing for my education, many who came before me had paid the ultimate price. Therefore, my only job as a child was to study hard, do my school work and ensure that I got all I could out of my education so that those men did not die in vain.

Me & my brother Steve at Pearl Harbor on the anchor of the USS Arizona

Through the years, our many vacations would take us to locations where he would reinforce the story of military sacrifice. I was 7 years old when our family went to Honolulu on vacation and visited Pearl Harbor.

Dad, Me & Steve on the boat to the USS Arizona Memorial

As the boat took us across the water to the memorial over the USS Arizona, Dad pointed to the oil still seeping up from the ship almost 30 years after it was sunk. He said they were the Tears of the Arizona, and he told me what he remembered as a 12 year old boy on that December day in 1942 when we were attacked. (Years later, as the events of 9-11 occurred, I understood some of what he must have felt that day.)

Wall of casualties at the USS Arizona Memorial in Pearl Harbor

When we reached the big white memorial, with the names of almost 1,200 who were lost that day etched in the the marble wall, he reminded me that these were some of the men who paid for my education. It made quiet an impression on this 7 year old.

Some years later, as a 19 year old college student, I went with Mom and Dad on a European vacation. During the trip, we rode a hovercraft over the English Channel from the White Cliffs of Dover to the Beaches near Normandy.

Omaha Beach as seen from the Normandy American Cemetery

As we reached the coast of France, the hovercraft took a slight detour from the direct route and took us out towards Omaha Beach where you could see where part of the D-Day landing occurred. It was overcast that day and there was a foggy mist in the air, and I felt a cold shiver as we made the approach. I wondered how those young infantry men who were probably about my age at the time must have felt that early morning almost 40 years earlier as they waited on the order for the assault to begin. Everything seemed to go quite around me, the sound of the hovercraft, the voices of the other passenger. It was surreal silence that was probably only occurring in my head. And as I looked over to my Dad sitting next to me, I could see the tears in his eyes.

Normandy American Cemetery at Colleville-sur-Mer

I saw those same tears, and matched them with my own, a few hours later when we visited the American cemetery in Colleville-sur-Mer where the bodies of over 9,000 American servicemen who paid for my education were laid to rest.

Now I wasn't always a straight A student, and I'm not going to pretend I came home from this trip and suddenly made Dean's List every quarter. But I've always tried my best, and I've always remembered my Daddy's lessons and the sacrifice of those young men.

I'll end this with a quote from the movie Saving Private Ryan. "I've tried to live my life the best I could. I hope that was enough. I hope that at least in your eyes, I've earned what all of you have done for me."

The Lord's Prayer

We have a tradition in my family. Of course, I guess every family has a family tradition or two, otherwise why would Hank Williams, Jr. have bothered to write a song about them? But the tradition I hold most dear to my heart is one that my Dad started long before I was born: The saying of the Lord's Prayer as we head out on any long journey.

Steve, me and Dad on one of my first trips - Daytona Beach, FL - 1964

Dad worked for Delta Air Lines for over 40 years, and one of the wonderful perks (and one of the reasons that I to went to work for them too) is the generous travel benefits. In his years at Delta and in retirement, Dad has managed to hit 48 of the 50 states (he's missing the Dakotas) and every continent except for Australia (he's even been to Antarctica.) That's pretty good for a poor kid from East Point, GA who was born during the Depression.

Me & Dad at the Petrified Forrest, Navajo, AZ - 1971

When traveling on an airline employee pass, you typically are traveling standby/space available. So, to give ourselves the best chance to get on a flight, we always tried for the first flight of the day. That usually meant getting up at 3:30 a.m. and leaving for the airport at 4:00 a.m. to try and catch a 6:00 a.m. flight. So many an early morn, well before dawn, we would load up in the car, back out of the driveway onto 1st Avenue, and then, as Dad put the car in drive, he would say, "Let's say our prayer." And as one, we would all begin:

Our Father who art in heaven,

hallowed be thy name.

Thy kingdom come.

Thy will be done

on earth as it is in heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread,

and forgive us our trespasses,

as we forgive those who trespass against us,

and lead us not into temptation,

but deliver us from evil.

For thine is the kingdom,

and the power, and the glory,

for ever and ever.

Amen.

Me, Dad & Steve - Disneyland, Anaheim, CA - 1976

We lived so close to the airport, that by the time we were finished with our prayer, we were pretty much pulling into the parking lot. Around the time I was 7 or 8, I remember wondering how Dad managed to drive all that way with his eyes closed. I was probably about 11 before I worked up the nerve to sneak a peek during the prayer and see if his eyes were indeed closed. For the record, they were open. Good thing I learned that before I became the one who did most of the driving to the airport.

Dad & me in Squaw Valley, CA - July 1980

It wasn't just airplane trips that brought out the prayer - we did it on road trips, heading to hospitals for surgeries, basically any time we were going to need some strength and protection from above. My brother told me that just before Dad took Mom to the hospital for my birth, the three of them said the prayer together.

Me & Dad at the Rhine River in Lorch, Germany - September 1983

Today I sat with Daddy at the hospital for a few hours and watched him as he slept. He goes through bouts of confusion, the doctors say because of all the mediation they've had him on, but there is some thought that he may have also had a minor stroke in the last few days as well. So, when I can, I try to let him sleep. But he woke up for a few moments and said, "How you doing, Tune?" (Tune is one of his silly nicknames for me, short for Petunia. Not sure if Petunia came from the flower or the Looney Tunes pig, but I've always hoped it was from the flower.) Then he asked me if I was ready to say our prayer.

Me and Dad in front of the Houses of Parliament, London - September 1984

I held his hand, we closed our eyes and we began to recite as we have so many times before. I held back a little, wanting to see if he could remember the words on his own, and he did. Although his voice was weak, he spoke every single word correctly. Then when we finished, with his eyes still closed, he said "I'm ready for the trip."

Mom & Dad on the Athabasca Glacier in Jasper, Alberta, Canada - October 1999

I pretty much lost it at that moment, thinking he was speaking of that last, metaphorical trip, if you understand what I mean. As the tears began welling up in my eyes, and I was trying so hard not to make a noise or let the dam break in front of him, without even opening his eyes he quietly said, "We'll make it to Australia like we planned, Tune. I promise you."

I really pray we do.

Dad kicking back in BusinessElite on the way to Buenos Aries, Argentina - February 2008