Appreciate

The world we live in today is so fast paced it’s a wonder we have time to pee better yet think about the things in our lives for which we are grateful, but I wanted to make myself aware. I started making a list. It’s a list of things in my life that I truly love but all too often take for granted. Here we go…

So His name is Harrison. He’s skinny and black and he doesn’t weigh much, but we’ve been in love for about a year now. I was with his cousin for a while a couple years back, but I needed something hotter. I have severe dependency issues with Harrison. I have to know that he’s somewhere around me at all times. If I can’t find him, I freak out and search frantically until he appears again. Aside from that, we have a fantastic relationship. He keeps me close with my friends and family. He doesn’t snore – which would be a HUGE problem since he sleeps right next to my head, and he faithfully wakes me up with a little song every morning at 6:40. I honestly don’t remember what life was like before him, my sweet Harrison, my iPhone. When I step back and look at it, I couldn’t be more grateful to have such amazing technology at the tips of my fingers.  Smartphones have changed the way we live our lives. And while yes, I am thankful for nature and peace and quiet, I’m also thankful I can check my bank account from anywhere while talking to my mom on the phone and listening to the new Adele album. I am grateful for you Harrison – my iPhone. 

Next on my list are Jack Johnson and Jonny Lang and U2 and Heart and Led Zeppelin and…I guess it would be easier to just say music. Think about it, how sad would our world be without music? Music is a universal language. It’s in our cars, in our movies, in our television shows. It’s on when we shop; we hear it at Church and in the elevators. Music is an emotion! When I’m excited, I turn on Gaga. When I’m sad I turn on Norah Jones. When I’m working I turn on Jack Johnson. I can think of an artist or song for every mood I have. That’s what music is. It’s an organ in the body of life. And I am beyond appreciative to have it in mine. I sincerely believe the world would be lesser without it. I am grateful to live in a place where we don’t have to.

Conversely, I don’t give enough thanks to the peace in my world. I don’t think that most people do. When was the last time you turned off your phone? Not just silenced it, but really shut the whole thing off? To be unreachable is an extravagance in today’s society. There was a time when the thought of shutting out the outside world had me popping Xanax, but now it’s a luxury that I feel blessed to be able to enjoy. There is something excitingly intimate about being able to appreciate the company of oneself. I like feeling in control. When I turn off my phone, close my door, whatever it may be, I know that I am not obligated to respond to a text or pick of my phone unless I want to. Finding peace in my day also makes me acutely aware of how lucky I am to be needed or in demand. I may not like responding to emails at 10pm but I am thankful to have a job right now that needs me and I may be slightly annoyed that my grandma is calling during the middle of my show, but as least I know she wants to talk to me.

And last, but certainly not least are my parents.  I think out of all the things in my life, this is what I have taken for granted the most. I assume that every time I’m sick, my mom will be there with Kleenex and soup, that whenever I need oil changes Bob will be waiting with some Valvoline. I assumed every time the Dallas Cowboys lost I could call my dad and rub it in. I learned a valuable lesson this spring when my dad passed away unexpectedly. I know its cliché, but life is unpredictable. I have lived my 28 years of life believing that my parents would be around forever. I didn’t really think “forever”, but I certainly didn’t think I’d lose one before I turned 30. So in these last two months, I’ve really tried to let my mom, stepdad, and stepmom know just how important they are in my life. I know for a fact that I would not be the bubbly, sarcastic, strong, independent woman I am today if it weren’t for their guidance and influence in my life. I love them more than words can say and I will let them know so every day for the rest of my life. 

I think it’s important to keep yourself grounded, to remember where you came from and to realize that you can never be too humble. These are the things in my life that make it go ‘round. Yes, I could live without most of them but if I don’t have to then I’m sure going to make an effort to be more grateful that I don’t.

Luxie

Her name is Lux, but I call her Luxie or Luxie Lou, or Lou. Sometimes, after she’s eaten a throw pillow, she’s just known as Satan. She is my loud, rambunctious, sometimes stinky, very un-lady like dog. She was born in the pound – a true little pound puppy. She was the only female in her litter of 11. When I saw her adorable wrinkly face 6 years ago, I fell in love. I had to have her. I paid for her and put her in the front of my brand new jeep. She looked over at me with her huge puppy eyes, happy to have a home I assumed; she then proceeded pee all over my seat. That should have been a warning. 

Lux is ½ Rhodesian Ridgeback and ½ Pit, so going in I knew I’d have a “chewer” on my hands. I didn’t foresee just all the chewing she would do. Before her 1^st birthday she had eaten several pairs of shoes (one set I am still mourning),  the carpet in my rented apartment, a newly upholstered love seat, a chunk of drywall in my bedroom and various rocks and sticks. I was married at this point in my life and each time Lux would ingest something foreign (her favorites were rocks) my husband and I would rush to the vet! We spent a small fortune on antibiotics, hoping she wouldn’t get sick! Each time the (insert foreign object here) would pass and she would go back to her happy little self.

We enrolled her in obedience class. She was a brilliant little puppy! She learned fast and responded well to direction.  My husband, Matt, was the ‘handler’ when it came to the classes. She responded better to a male figure – so essentially she became his dog. She looked at him with her sad puppy eyes and he would melt all over her. They went for 5 mile runs together; he even napped on the floor with her. I loved her, but I wasn’t IN love with her like he was. 

Then Matt left us. He took his stereo, his clothes, his friends…but not his dog. Lux and I watched the man of our dreams walk out the front door. It was at this point I realized I wasn’t the only one in love with him. Lux would whine, wait by the door at night, and sniff his side of the bed. I started to resent her. I was still there! I didn’t walk away! I was the one who fed her and took her out! She should love me! What I wasn’t understanding was that the hostility I had towards my dog was the hostility I couldn’t express to my future ex-husband. 

I think we finally reached a point where we realized just how much we needed each other. Luxie didn’t care who loved her, she just wanted to be loved. And I was feeling the same way. So began the new chapter in our lives.

It’s been 4 years since Matt left, and I just recently started to realize how big a chunk of my heart this dog has.  She has been the one consistent thing in my life for the past 6 years. She has been with me through 4 moves, an MS diagnosis, 3 serious relationships, camping trips and slumber parties. She’s my road trip buddy up to Duluth. She’s my security guard on neighborhood walks. She always greets me with a happy face at the door! When I’m sad she puts her head on my knee and looks at me as if to say “It’s gonna be ok mom, we’ll get through this.” 

When my ex-husband closed the front door on me and Lux, we opened a new one. It hasn’t been the easiest or happiest of lives, and there have been days when I don’t even want to get out of bed. But I do…for Luxie.  She has never let me down and I owe her the same. I’m in love with this dog, and I feel like the two of us can get through anything together!

Awareness

3 weeks ago today, I lost my dad, Christopher Snyder, to a brain aneurysm. He was 51 years old. Within a matter of hours, from the time my stepmom called to tell me he had collapsed to the time she called to tell me he had passed, my life turned completely upside down. 

What has been the hardest to deal with so far is not the fact that I have lost my father (as I think I am still in shock) but the way people have reacted to this event. 

Death, like birth is an intimate thing. It brings out emotions that not everyone is comfortable exposing. There is a vulnerability there that people are not used to feeling or facing. It’s because of that people have such a hard time reacting to death and grief. I have experienced kindness and sympathy from complete strangers and on the other hand I have experienced an utter lack of concern from people whom I thought should care the most.

When my parents divorced, 21 some years ago mind you, my dad was not someone you would nominate for father of the year. He didn’t pay child support, he didn’t send birthday cards. It took a long time for him to come around and realize what he was missing. He met an amazing woman who I am lucky enough to call my stepmom, and his life started to change. My brother and I went out to visit, and he came to see us. He was at my graduation and he walked me down the aisle at my wedding. We went on a family vacation together and we talked regularly about when we would see each other next. He turned into a real father. Better late than never I say. My father was not perfect, but he was always my father.

When word spread about his passing, some of my family reacted in a way I perceived as odd. They called with their initial condolences and a few sent cards, but the reaction was quite subdued in what I actually expected. Keep in mind; I have only one aunt on my dad’s side. I have grown up and been raised exclusively with my mom’s side of the family. I expected more. When my grandfather passed away 2 years ago, the outpouring of grief was tremendous. People came out of the woodwork to comfort my family. I couldn’t quite grasp why many people were so blasé about my father’s passing. Then I went to California for his funeral.

My father lived in California for 17 years. He had an extensive group of friends there, most of whom considered him like a brother. The outpouring of support was incomprehensible.  My brother and I were submersed in love and support from people whom we had only met a couple of times at most. They lifted us up and reminded us what a great man our dad had turned out to be. They let us know that they would not forget our father and they would not let us forget. 

What I started to understand though all of this is that when someone dies, we should not dwell on the person that passed, we should support those that have to go through the loss. And this is why my family and others had such a strange reaction to my father’s death. To them the man that died was the one who divorced my mom, the one who didn’t pay child support, the one who wasn’t there on our first day of school. Instead of focusing on the loss and heartache my brother and I felt, they were focused on the memory of the deadbeat dad that died. 

I am hoping that something can be learned through all this. I am hoping that by writing this and by talking about things that we can open our eyes. Death is a part of life. It is not up to us to judge the person who passed, it us up to us to help the survivors deal with their loss. My stepmom lost her husband, the love of her life. While she should be grieving for herself, she instead texts and calls to make sure my brother and I are ok. My mom lost the father of her children, a man she used to be in love with, again, she should be grieving for her loss; instead she spends hours on the phone with me making sure my heart isn’t hurting too much when I turn off the light that night.

 It’s time for us to look at the bigger picture. This world would not turn with utter selfishness. This world functions on the kindness of others. It’s when we can stop being selfish and start being a part of something bigger, that we will really realize what life is all about. I hope that in my life I can be the ideal version of that type of person. I believe it takes practice and that no one is perfect, but awareness is the first step.

In Memory

For those of you who do not know, my father Christopher L. Snyder, passed away unexpectedly last Monday, April 4th. My brother and I both delivered the eulogy at his service. Below is what I wrote. I think it honored him perfectly.

There are certain people who are put on this earth to touch others lives. They do so in such a subtle way that often times we don’t realize what we had until it is gone. This was my father.

My dad with a heart the size of Texas and a bad accent to match. His outrageous stories could make people double over in laughter and the kindness of his actions would leave you smiling for days.

My dad lived his life with vivaciousness. He wasn’t one to let the day slip by without squeezing out some of its goodness. Whether he was cheering for his awful Dallas Cowboys, who by the way were SPANKED this year by my Super Bowl Champ Green Bay Packers,or sitting on Captain Casey’s boat enjoying the sunshine and beer, he made the most of his life. And for that I am thankful.

I am thankful that I had the opportunity to learn such an important life lesson from someone I am lucky enough to call my father. I am thankful for the precious time I had with him.

I am thankful that he chose to share his life with a woman as amazing as Rebecca and I am even MORE thankful that he was smart enough to marry her and never let her go. I love you Rebecca.

I am thankful for the smile and dimples he passed on to my handsome brother.

I am thankful for the wonderful friends he has here. Our California family.

My dad’s passing was sudden and unexplained, but I know he would not want us to focus on our loss. When I spoke with Rebecca last week in the midst of all this chaos, I asked her if my dad had a directive. She laughed and said “Are you kidding Jacqueline, this is your father. He told me when he dies he wants me to drive him out to the desert and when I find a good place roll his body into a ditch. And when I get back into town throw a party”

Thank goodness Rebecca is classy enough to ignore the first part of that request.

I want to celebrate my dad’s life with all of you. I want to hear his crazy stories told by his best friends. I want to honor him as a father, husband, brother, and great friend -and I know this is what he would want too.

So, thank you dad for living your life and not letting moments pass you by. That’s something I all too often forget to do.

Jimmy Buffett said it best: Let the winds of change blow over my head. I’d rather die while I’m living, than live while I’m dead.

The Whole Truth and Nothing but the Truth

I was on my 156^th “first date” last week. Ten minutes after this guy sat down, I knew it wasn’t going to work. He was nice enough, semi-funny and tall – but I wasn’t feeling the sparks. So a drink later we said our goodbyes. He hugged me at the door and said he’d text me. I drove home wondering how I would tell this guy I wasn’t interested. I could say I met someone else, I could say my fish died and I’ll be grieving for a month or two, I could say Joe Mauer finally called and the wedding is BACK ON!… I consulted my faux dating coach, Andy who basically said “be honest”.  So, when date number 156 did text me back to ask me out again, I replied “I had a really nice time with you, and I think you’re a nice person, but I just didn’t feel the chemistry that I’m looking for in a relationship.” His response back… “Well, I guess I should have just tried for a one night stand.” REALLY?! 

Why do we have a problem with honesty? Are we not raised to tell the truth? My parents washed my mouth out with soap if I was caught in a lie. One taste of that Ivory bar and I had learned my lesson. Granted, we all fib. We tell little white lies here or there. We purposely leave things out of the details to make ourselves look better. But, wouldn’t we all be better off if we were just honest with each other? No one likes to be criticized but at the same time, who likes being lied to? I have not once met someone who after finding out the truth said, “I’m so glad I was lied to, it made things so much easier.” Instead we find out we were lied to (and we always find out…) then we are saying “I wish he/she would have just been honest.” 

There are two problems with honesty, someone has to give it and someone has to receive it. The person telling the truth never wants to look like the “bad guy”, so we say “Yeah! Those jeans look great on you” or “I know! The company party IS going to be fun.” The supplier of said fib is simply telling the recipient what they want to hear. In actuality, those jeans were a little too tight and while I enjoy a cocktail or two on someone's dime, I wouldn’t consider spending my off-the-clock hours small talking with co-worker s “fun”.  Jack Nicholson was right, we “can’t handle the truth”. 

We can’t handle the truth because truth is reality, and I don’t mean Jersey Shore reality, I mean nitty-gritty-honest-to-goodness-realness. Americans have such a warped sense of reality right now. People can find their soul mate on The Bachelor, they can shed 150lbs on The Biggest Loser, and they can become the next pop-star on American Idol. We need to turn off our televisions and open our eyes to what’s really going on. The divorce rate in America is over 50%, we are a nation with a fast-food consumption problem, and for a while people thought William Hung should have been the American Idol. I’m not saying we all need to become pessimists and look for the gloom and doom of the world, but it is time for a reality check.  So, perhaps instead of keeping our heads in the clouds we need to take off our fake designer sunglasses and put one foot back on the ground. It’s time to be honest with ourselves.

Falling

Generally speaking, falling is never a good thing. Falling from grace, falling off the wagon, falling up the stairs, these are not things normal individuals aspire to achieve. This had me wondering why so many people are hoping to “fall” in love, and how maybe my reservations in doing so are quite justified. 

Let’s start by looking at the word “fall”. Mr. Webster says that “fall” means to descend freely by the force of gravity, to hang freely, to drop oneself to a lower position, to leave an erect position suddenly and involuntarily. Is it just me, or do none of these definitions sound appealing? 

So why are we – especially it seems women in my age group- so anxious to fall? It’s freakin scary! Personally when I think of falling, I picture myself tripping off a curb or slipping on ice and landing on my ass. I can’t say that I’ve ever wanted to fall. The thing that sucks about falling is landing. I’ve never had an unexpected fall that has ended pleasantly. I’ve never fallen off a curb into the arms of a handsome stranger; I’ve never slipped and fell on ice only to be rescued by a hot EMT. Nope, I'm found on my backside, sporting a lovely bruise and an embarrassed smile. And to be honest, I haven’t been lucky when “falling” in love either; I’ve only ended up with a broken heart and a bruised ego. 

In general, when you leap from a plane or strap yourself into a roller-coaster, you’re not looking forward to the landing; you’re looking forward to the adrenaline rush that accompanies the fall. It’s an intense feeling! Your stomach is in your throat, you’re smiling so hard your face hurts, you’re screaming out in excitement! Doesn’t that sound like more fun than the dull thud you experience when gravity unexpectedly pulls your feet from beneath you? 

I think we’ve got it wrong. No one should want to “fall” in love, because falling implies landing, and when you’re with the right person, you want to feel like your head is in the clouds all the time. Yes, it’s realistic to experience ups and downs, but I think as a general rule, if you’re with the “right” person, you should never hit rock bottom. 

So I’m giving up on falling in love. I think a better term should be float or fly. OK, I am aware that neither of these sounds nearly as dramatic as “falling” in love, but I’m sick of drama anyway, I think it would be absolutely divine to find someone to hold my hand and fly through life with me. Sure we may have to land a few places in between on our journey, but for most of it we’ll be in the sky, side by side like two happy little love birds.  Now I just need to find someone with a really great pair of wings!

Too Fast

Life moves by so fast. This has become ever more apparent as I get older. Mr. Time is sneaky though. When we are young we live a structured lifestyle. As soon as we’re born we start a routine. We are fed at certain time, we nap at a certain time (well, I still kinda do that....). Pretty soon we are going to preschool and kindergarten at a certain time. Then it’s middle school and high school. Everything is so planned out, next comes college and then a “real job”. Sooner then we realize we are thrust into this crazy world. We are expected to date, find someone to marry, have said wedding, pop out a couple kids, put them on a routine, then retire. 

What we aren’t taught is that dating and marring and making babies is not routine, but our society has deemed it a normal part of life. When you start your life in such a structured manner, when is the right time to start the unstructured part?

This is where I get all flustered.  For all of those that really “know” me. You know what a crazy control freak I can be. I’m a list making,date planning, calendar writing, freak of nature! I like things clearly organized and tangible. I like looking at my calendar and seeing things planned out months in advance. I’m not saying this is a bad quality. It’s just becoming harder and harder to do as an adult. 

At 22 I was so eager to start my fairytale life that I overlooked a lot of things about my Prince Charming. After our Royal Divorce I felt like I had wasted a great deal of time. I jumped right back into dating, searching for someone to make up for that lost time. That was NOT the right move. While I did enjoy some of the dating, for the most part it left me feeling bitter, “WHY couldn’t I find the right one?!”

I’m 6 years older now. And I’m taking things much slower. While I’d like to live the picture perfect life like everyone else, it’s clear that I’m not ready for that again. I’m not comfortable moving too fast. I am enjoying time spend alone and with good friends. I like the excitement of dating. And while I do sometimes miss the comfort and normalcy of a steady exclusive relationship, it also makes me a bit anxious. I’m not ready to give up my single apartment or spend 5 out of 7 days with a guy. I like the anticipation and excitement of getting ready for a date. I like missing someone.  And while I hope that eventually one of these lucky gentlemen I have been “dating” moves into relationship status, I’m not stressing about it. I’m keeping my sights focused on next week, not the next five years.

I will know when it’s the right time for me to move into the next stage of my life, when I’m comfortable. Not when I read it in a magazine or see it on TV or hear it from my family. I’m getting out of my own head and listening to my heart. Wish me luck!