My Mother: 1 Year Today

I'm not going to address my long absence, because well, there's too much to catch up on, none of which has nothing to do with why I'm typing this blog post.  October 21, 2011 no longer means just seven days before my birthday.  From now, and forevermore, it will now symbolize something much more important to me: The death of my mother. Time sure flies, and it sure as hell doesn't seem anything close to a year.  But I intended this to be my one year tribute to her, since I can't be there in CA to help celebrate this milestone with family (we just moved to Portland/Vancouver and I can't take off work just yet).

Keep in mind that I'm under the influence here, because it's the only way I can lower my inhibitions to speak openly and freely, so if I misspell at any point or wander off on a tangent, or bounce around topics/memories-I apologize ahead of time. The cost for honesty in feeling is the occassional grammatical error LOL.

With no bias at all my mother was one of the greatest human beings I have ever had the priviledge of knowing.  She was a true inspiration to a lot of people, who often considered her their second mother.  Those of you who don't know my mother's story, you can go back in previous posts to read the details since retelling it here would triple this post size.

On a side note, I have to go to bed, and I'll have to continue this tomrrow. Seems that I've "influenced" myself a little too much, and I've just been looking at the screen for 5 minutes haha.

To be continued....

Okay, just got back from the paper route, and am more alert.  It's been a hard year without my mother, for myself and my family. She was the rock of the family: The Matriarch.  What made it hard for me, as I've discussed in previous posts was that when she died, I had to force all the emotions down so I could be the person to organize her funeral as she had wanted it, and get everyone else through it, since nobody else was in any state to arrange anything.  As that very difficult week went by, every day I had to cram those emotions further and further down, until it was so packed tight that when it was all done, and I wanted to reach them, so I could grieve....I couldn't. I didn't feel anything anymore. Numbing yourself to pain works too well if you do it too long, and I felt like such a shit son for not being able to cry for my mom, the wonderful lady that she was.

BUT, all is not lost, I'm happy to say that I was finally able to grieve, and it just happened a month ago. When my mom first died, someone had said not to worry about not being able to cry, that it tends to happen to the organizer and "go to" guy of the family that handles the arrangements, due to the reasons I mentioned; cramming it all away to deal with "later" to get through the hard part. And no truer words were spoken. After a few months after my mother died, I just came to accept that those feelings will come one day and stopped stressing over why I couldn't reach them.

Well the time came when last month we watched Big Fish (one of my favorite movies, you really should check it out). I've always loved this movie, but it never came close to making me cry, but this particular time after not having seen it in years its what triggered my grief.  Without spoiling the movie for anyone who hasn't seen it, in the end there's a scene where a son gets to say goodbye to his dying father.  And it all started with the thought "I never got to say goodbye", as I connected w/ the scene in relation to watching my mother die. The night my mother died, by the time I got to the hospital, she no longer was conscious. The moments during her actual death she made noises like she was trying to say something, but nothing understandable ever came out. So in essence, I never really got to say goodbye.

That thought I had was like a key to the 30 foot walls I built around my grief, and it all fell apart. All the walls crumbled, all the rusty locks broke open, all the emotions like water rushing through a broken dam, came flooding out...it was instantly overwhelming. And...I cried. I cried like I've never cried before...HUGE, sobbing, grief ridden crying. I have never ever cried like this, and I couldn't stop. My instant reaction was to try to stop, but just like I didn't know how to reach my grief when it was walled up, I didn't know how to stop crying. It was like standing in the middle of a river, trying to figure out how to get it to stop flowing instantly. Wasn't gonna happen...so I let myself go, released control and just rode it.

Needless to say, my wife and kids lost it as well. My kids have never seen me cry, and all of a sudden they see me just sobbing like a fucking Fat Boy (from the 80's rap group: UHUHUHUHUH LOL). Now everyones crying, and no one knows why I am, and everyone's hugging me, and I managed to get out: " I never got to say goodbye...HE (the actor) got to say goodbye, and it was beautiful...My mom deserved a goodbye, she deserved for it to be beautiful just like that...I should have been able to send her off into death just like that...it's what she deserved..." And now knowing why I was crying everyone started crying even more. LOL....and after, I felt a weight ( a rather huge one) off my shoulders. The grief was no longer locked up, and I smiled.

None of this changes the fact that I miss my mother, more so now, than a year ago. It tears heart in two knowing that she won't PHYSICALLY be able to see my beautiful daughters grow up, graduate, get married, and do wonderful things. But I know that she sees us all, wherever she is, and I live my life hoping to continue to make her proud.

She was a truly amazing woman, one the world can never replace. She was a woman that everyone admired, and lived her life full of honesty, integrity and strength. And I hope where she is, there is no more pain, and that she continues to smile down on us, and I hope she's proud.

I love you, mom. I miss you, and life will never be the same without you....but you live on in my thoughts every day.

On Top of Old Smooookeeeyyyy!

So I've been looking at camping gear this morning.  I was quite excited in NY, because Hailey was finally a good age to start taking her camping.  But then Ashlyn was born, so family camping had to wait a few years, since it'd be really hard to take a baby camping.

Well, now Ashlyn is 2.5, and I think that's old enough to start taking her, since she seems to like being outside.  So I've been looking into tents, and sleeping bags and the like. Hoping to squeeze in a camping trip (somewhere probably on the CA coast), before we head to Oregon.  It'll probably be somewhere like Carpenteria or something. Can't wait. 

YUM! Paper!

Awesome! I actually remembered to write, before another month passed.  Nothing much to report though, other than being a bookworm for a while now. I go through these cycles often, for as long as I can remember. I won't have time to pick up a book for years, and then all of a sudden for months at a time, I'm reading up to 8 books a month.  I probably make up for lost time, when I go through my book binges.  This time it's ranged from rereading A Song of Ice and Fire series (in preparation for that fat bastard George Martin finally finishing Dance with Dragons, which is to be released in July 2011), to new Fantasy and Fiction novels on my "to read" list, like the new book by Rothfuss that came out a month ago (aka Wise Man's Fear which was excellent by the way), to books by Michio Kaku the theoretical/string physicist based on his field of specialty.  Still going strong.

Took the kids to Medieval times this past Sunday as well. I was worried Ashlyn (the little one) would hate it, due to the loud noises, dark environment, and scary moments, but she loved it. Her and Hailey both were screaming and clapping.  The food was good too, and it was a great way to spend an afternoon together as a family. I had found a coupon on their site that gave a free Child's admission for every Adult admission you bought, so I used that.  They got their money back though, because I spent as much on wooden swords and shields for me and the girls as those "free" tickets would have probably cost me.  Oh well. We all had a blast, and it was a good time.

Retirement Home Project

Click the picture to the left to get to the album of some of the pictures from the project I did.  The captions show some of their life stories, and experiences. Hope you enjoy. Feel free to comment.

Yet More Time Passes...

Goddammit! Everytime I say I'm going to write more often, I always forget, and a month(s) passes.  So to wrap up, since last time: Alzheimer's went kaput, due to privacy act, had to do a backup project about a retirement home and its residents. It actually ended up a pretty solid piece of work. Not a topic/shoot for a class though, since the scope was much bigger, but I still got an A on the final, so I was happy.  The project really helped me deal with the weakest part of my photographic skill: Shooting, and conversing with, strangers. I actually spent hours upon hours with some of the residents of a local retirement home, and got to hear some of their FASCINATING life stories, as well as shoot them. It was an amazing experience, and one that I feel has helped me grow as a photographer.

So Mid March, we went to Portland and Seattle, and let's just say we LOVED Portland. Everyone that knows what's up, knows what's up, so I'll leave it at that.

Other than that, it's just been the normal grind. Just work, sleep, school, photography, etc etc. And before you know it, a month and change has passed since the last update. GRR! I need to really be better with this blog.  I'll post the link to some of the photos for the Photojournalism Class final project next.

Alzheimer's: Times Remembered

The title might changed. Lord knows it's already changed four times in my head, and from an earlier posting on Facebook. Just as a backstory, this semester I am in a Introduction to Photojournalism class. Finally! After two straight math classes to fulfill requirements, I'm finally in a class relating to my degree and interest. And, man am I interested.  This is where I hope my career takes me: As an editorial photographer (if National Geographic never calls LOL).

Anyway, for our final project which we will be working on week by week, we were to choose a story to shoot. I never choose "easy". In a previous Photography class, everybody was choosing subjects like "A Day at the Park" , or "Sunday with Dad", I chose "The Road to Suicide" which was staged, but was a journey of a mother who just lost her child from depression to suicide LOL.  So, point is, I rarely choose the easy road. I feel the most growth happens when you challenge yourself.  News/Editorial photography is my weakness. I'm used to photographing nature. There are no people to talk to or request permission of when you're shooting landscapes. Nature is slow, it's patient, you can plan your shoots well in advance. I have always been uncomfortable with shooting strangers, or people that don't come to me, asking me to shoot them.  So I figure with this assignment I'd challenge myself to the full extent, and go all out, so I can break through my inhibitions.

Looking back it was kind of silly, but after work last night I drove by the Alzheimer's home in Cerritos.  My intention was to introduce myself to the staff, and above all the four patients that live there so that they knew me when I came back and started shooting and taking pictures.  I soon realized how stupid of an idea that was when I met Effy.

Effy is 80 (I may be off a few years, I still have to listen to our convo again), and is the sweetest old lady you could ever meet.  We sat and talked for 40 minutes. She told me about her early life, her life growing up, her life there, my life and family, etc etc. I mean we REALLY got into it, more than I was ready for, being without my camera, and a recorder. I had to use my iPhone's voice recorder. I thanked her for her time, since I had to get home, and started talking to the staff (the main guy being Filipino too, speaking my dialect of Ilonggo, which was cool to actually speak to someone in that dialect since it's always Tagalog).  Effy wandered off to the back yard, to pick flowers. When she came back 5-10 minutes later, I said "Well, goodbye Effy, thanks again for your time, I'll see you this weekend", and her response to me floored me, since I had forgotten where I was. Her response was, still in her sweetest face and voice, "...and you are?"

Wow. In that second I knew I chose the right story to tell. What a powerful moment, and what a powerful subject.  I think I will really enjoy getting to know the people there, and telling the stories that they forget immediately after telling.  Such a compelling subject, with such compelling people. This will be a challenge in many, many ways.

Acceptance

It's been a while, AGAIN, I know I know, but life happens, and despite best intentions, things fall by the wayside-like this blog.  I wanted to clear up the loose thread in regards to my mom, before I move on to what's been going on lately, and what's to come, since I'm sort of at an okay place. 

I think I spent too much time trying to force feelings, rather than just letting them happen.  Some days can be harder than others, and often times when the days are hard, the feelings come out of nowhere.  I often found myself doing work, or working on pictures, and I remember something that has to do with  my mom, and all of a sudden it feels like I'm about to lose it, my eyes start stinging, and then the moment passes. I miss my mother, and no amount of typing or talking will lessen the loss that came with her passing. She was a truly great woman, and one that changed the lives of many. She is no small loss to this world.

But acceptance comes, after thinking about this over the past few months, because well, it just has to. I can be angry, I can be depressed, and I can reflect all I want, but in the end, she's never coming back.  After thinking for so long at it, I've come to accept my reaction or lack thereof sometimes, because, honestly I saw how much she suffered. Her last days/months here on Earth were filled with suffering, both physical and mental. I saw the damage to her physical body, and the tears from that pain, as well as the pride lost at having to depend on others, after a life of independence.  There was no cure for her, I think that is something we all knew deep down inside. There was just suffering.

And I firmly believe, now, with time, that I don't grieve as I believe I SHOULD, because after seeing what she went through, her passing was actually a blessing. Is that wrong to say?  Death became her release.  And I would rather have her free from that pain I saw, and forever have a hole in my heart, than have her alive and suffering like she was. And that is why I'm okay with it now. Wherever she is, she's not suffering anymore, and that actually makes me happy. I hope that comes out sounding like I mean it to sound LOL