Friday, September 26, 2003
“Sorry I didn’t get your call, I was in Atlanta for the weekend.”
“What were you doing in Atlanta?”
“Well Dave Matthews was playing there, so I went to see the show.”
“You flew from NYC to Atlanta to see Dave Matthews?”
“Yea why not? Alright I have to go; I want to go to bed early so I can go out to surf at 6 tomorrow morning. I’ll talk to you later. Peace sweetheart.”
That was a segment of my phone conversation with my best friend Nick last week. The funny thing is that this is normal for him. He is one of the most interesting people you will ever meet. With his mop top hair that he always lets grow too long, his flip flops made out of green astro-turf, and Hawaiian shirts, Nick is always a sight to see. He always has some kind of adventure story and always seems to be able to have a conversation with every person in a room by the end of an evening.
He spends his winters on the slopes skiing and is now even on the search and rescue team at Hunter Mountain. He uses his search and rescue credentials to make sure he is always in the right place at the right time to help someone. He helped out at Ground Zero after the September 11th attacks, missing his first month of freshman year of college. I remember one other time we were driving back in the rain from NYC and the car in front of us hit the divider and skidded off the side of the road flipping over. Nick pulled over right next to them and helped the paramedics pull the people from the car.
Nick always has to try new things, and is one of those people that can never sit still. He spent the last summer in the Persian Gulf for an internship. While most people are shaken up about the terrorist activity and putting their travel plans on hold, Nick chooses to get as close to the action as possible.
Nick and I have known each other since kindergarten. We have been best friends since the sixth grade. He lived across the bay from me and we used to take our boats to each other’s house. Over the years we have accumulated all kinds of interesting stories, including junior high parties, kidnapping my stuffed bear, and the time we dated for two weeks until he got his best guy friend to dump me.
Our journey continued when he decided to attend Chaminade, the all- boys high school while I went to Sacred Heart Academy for girls. Being in brother and sister high schools, we remained inseparable. There, our friendship evolved through puberty with three hour phone conversations and rescuing the other by being each other’s date for every formal dance. We always survived the significant others that came in and out of our lives, in fact we were compared to Dawson and Joey from Dawson’s Creek, yet for some reason we never thought to date each other.
I honestly do not know what I would do without Nick in my life. He continues to surprise me everyday. Last year I once again was single and needed a date to my sorority formal. Nick was on the slopes by 6 am, left work at 2 in the afternoon and drove down to Quinnipiac to come to the formal with me. He then left right after the formal at 1:30 in the morning and drove back to Hunter, slept in the locker room for 2 hours before having to be back on the slopes for another day at 6. That is the type of person he is though.
Whenever people see Nick and me together, I inevitably get asked why we’re not together. When Nick and I were dancing at my formal he said something that I think sums it up perfectly.
“You know I think I have danced with you more than any of my girlfriends? Yea, you’re the one girl that I’ve had by me for everything, that’s outlasted them all. You’ll always be the one that I know I’ll always have in my life.”
Sometimes I think its better to have one guy that you feel comfortable enough to not have to put makeup on and do your hair for. That you don’t mind crying and sniffling on their shoulder after you’ve been dumped and they still tell you that you’re beautiful. It’s great to have a guy that you know will always be the “Backup Date” for a formal event when you need one, even if the only dances he knows are the lawnmower and the shopping cart. I know that he will always be one guy that I can count on to remember my birthday or get me a Christmas gift. He will always have a place in my life and I know that someday in the future we will be Aunt Joy and Uncle Nick to each other’s kids. So maybe we’re not together, but maybe I got something better.
“What were you doing in Atlanta?”
“Well Dave Matthews was playing there, so I went to see the show.”
“You flew from NYC to Atlanta to see Dave Matthews?”
“Yea why not? Alright I have to go; I want to go to bed early so I can go out to surf at 6 tomorrow morning. I’ll talk to you later. Peace sweetheart.”
That was a segment of my phone conversation with my best friend Nick last week. The funny thing is that this is normal for him. He is one of the most interesting people you will ever meet. With his mop top hair that he always lets grow too long, his flip flops made out of green astro-turf, and Hawaiian shirts, Nick is always a sight to see. He always has some kind of adventure story and always seems to be able to have a conversation with every person in a room by the end of an evening.
He spends his winters on the slopes skiing and is now even on the search and rescue team at Hunter Mountain. He uses his search and rescue credentials to make sure he is always in the right place at the right time to help someone. He helped out at Ground Zero after the September 11th attacks, missing his first month of freshman year of college. I remember one other time we were driving back in the rain from NYC and the car in front of us hit the divider and skidded off the side of the road flipping over. Nick pulled over right next to them and helped the paramedics pull the people from the car.
Nick always has to try new things, and is one of those people that can never sit still. He spent the last summer in the Persian Gulf for an internship. While most people are shaken up about the terrorist activity and putting their travel plans on hold, Nick chooses to get as close to the action as possible.
Nick and I have known each other since kindergarten. We have been best friends since the sixth grade. He lived across the bay from me and we used to take our boats to each other’s house. Over the years we have accumulated all kinds of interesting stories, including junior high parties, kidnapping my stuffed bear, and the time we dated for two weeks until he got his best guy friend to dump me.
Our journey continued when he decided to attend Chaminade, the all- boys high school while I went to Sacred Heart Academy for girls. Being in brother and sister high schools, we remained inseparable. There, our friendship evolved through puberty with three hour phone conversations and rescuing the other by being each other’s date for every formal dance. We always survived the significant others that came in and out of our lives, in fact we were compared to Dawson and Joey from Dawson’s Creek, yet for some reason we never thought to date each other.
I honestly do not know what I would do without Nick in my life. He continues to surprise me everyday. Last year I once again was single and needed a date to my sorority formal. Nick was on the slopes by 6 am, left work at 2 in the afternoon and drove down to Quinnipiac to come to the formal with me. He then left right after the formal at 1:30 in the morning and drove back to Hunter, slept in the locker room for 2 hours before having to be back on the slopes for another day at 6. That is the type of person he is though.
Whenever people see Nick and me together, I inevitably get asked why we’re not together. When Nick and I were dancing at my formal he said something that I think sums it up perfectly.
“You know I think I have danced with you more than any of my girlfriends? Yea, you’re the one girl that I’ve had by me for everything, that’s outlasted them all. You’ll always be the one that I know I’ll always have in my life.”
Sometimes I think its better to have one guy that you feel comfortable enough to not have to put makeup on and do your hair for. That you don’t mind crying and sniffling on their shoulder after you’ve been dumped and they still tell you that you’re beautiful. It’s great to have a guy that you know will always be the “Backup Date” for a formal event when you need one, even if the only dances he knows are the lawnmower and the shopping cart. I know that he will always be one guy that I can count on to remember my birthday or get me a Christmas gift. He will always have a place in my life and I know that someday in the future we will be Aunt Joy and Uncle Nick to each other’s kids. So maybe we’re not together, but maybe I got something better.
Wednesday, September 17, 2003
I shivered in my wool coat as the snow started to fall. The snowflakes looked fragile, yet beautiful as they melted away when they hit the red oak of the coffin. The priest continued to read the Psalm from the Bible. It was about saying goodbye and letting your loved one go to meet God’s loving arms. I wanted to scream out “NO! I’m not ready to let go and say goodbye.” Why was this happening?
I looked around at the faces standing around the coffin. They were all tear streaked and shivering. People were wrapping their arms around each other. I wanted to pinch myself to see if this was real. I reached out and grabbed the nearest thing to me and squeezed with all my might for some form of comfort. It was a hand, it squeezed me back reassuringly. I tried to take a steady breath. My chest felt so tight and smothered. I felt like I was drowning under water and I couldn’t reach the surface. I closed my eyes, but all I could see were those florescent lights from the hospital and the machines with all the wires. Oh God, all those wires and tubes!
Everything seemed so hopeless now. Why couldn’t I have done more? Why couldn’t I have saved him? At that point, I feel an arm tighten around my shoulders and begin to lead me away from the grave site. They were going to lower the coffin into the ground now. That would be it, he would be gone forever. Just like that he’d be gone. How could it be over like that? One day I hear his voice on the phone and the next he’s being buried in that coffin. It seems impossible.
I hear the car door slam as they put me in the car. We begin to pull away from the cemetery. I sigh and lean back against the cold, leather seat and allow my mind to wander to the past. I remember that last phone call. It seems like a century ago now. Was it really only 4 days ago? I should have known after last time. The last time they found him in time. I felt guilty enough then, when he called and asked to see me and I told him that I had to work. If only I had known…but they found him then and he was saved. I swore I wouldn’t let him down again.
I knew he wasn’t really better yet. The last time I saw him he looked like he weighed seventy pounds and his eyes…oh God his eyes! They looked empty and glass-like. He told me he was finally out of bed and that he had a job and was going to go back to school. I mean after being out of bed for the first time in three months, I wanted to believe him. He said that he wanted to live and get his life back together. I remember telling him that I would try to help him do that. He began to talk about the past, reconcile our past differences. Oh, they all seem so petty now. How could I have allowed them to hold me back from helping him? How could I have been so bitter and awful?
I look out the window and see the landscape go flying by. People walking into stores; life continuing on without him. I think back to that last day we were together. He was sitting across the table from me at the diner. I never would have believed that would be the last time I’d see his smile, hear his laugh, or the sound of his voice as he teased me.
I finally forgave him that day. I forgave the past, let go of all the ghosts. I forgot the horrible way he treated me the past two years. I wanted to remember the way he used to be before he started changing and falling into his depression and drug use. I realize now that he never meant to hurt me. The last two years were not the real him. It was a ghost of him, encompassing a person who had a disease and needed help. Why wouldn’t he listen and see a therapist? He had so much potential and so much to offer the world. He was going to be a great lawyer and save people.
We pull up to my house now. I feel the door open beside me and someone take my hand to help me out of the car. They lead me through my front door. I slowly climb the stairs to my room and climb into bed. I cuddle the stuffed animal next to me in my arms.
As I lay there my mind wanders again to saying goodbye to him that last day. I had to return to school. I was only going back for three more weeks and then planned to see him over Christmas break. How could that plan go so wrong? I got so busy. I had work to do. It was the end of my semester. Still I should have made more time to call. I never expected that horrible phone call. They had found him again. This time it might not have been soon enough. I had rushed to the airport and got on the first plane there. I got to the hospital in time to see him connected to all those machines. I sat there and held his hand. I will never forget the sound as that loud beep went off and the nurses and doctor came rushing in. That was it, he was gone.
The tears begin to roll down my face again. How could I have failed him? How could I have not been there to remind him what he had to live for? All the things he could achieve. How could he have thought that life was so horrible that it wasn’t worth living?
He’s opened my eyes though. I look around and I see how important things are, how you have to tell everyone how much you love them. You unfortunately never know when it might be the last time you see them. I wish I had told him one last time. It makes me realize that you should forgive people worth forgiving. Good friends are far and few and hard to come by. Don’t let them get away. I will remember the way he used to be before everything changed. I will remember all the good times we shared and try to forgive myself. Goodbye my dear friend, you’ll always be in my heart.
I looked around at the faces standing around the coffin. They were all tear streaked and shivering. People were wrapping their arms around each other. I wanted to pinch myself to see if this was real. I reached out and grabbed the nearest thing to me and squeezed with all my might for some form of comfort. It was a hand, it squeezed me back reassuringly. I tried to take a steady breath. My chest felt so tight and smothered. I felt like I was drowning under water and I couldn’t reach the surface. I closed my eyes, but all I could see were those florescent lights from the hospital and the machines with all the wires. Oh God, all those wires and tubes!
Everything seemed so hopeless now. Why couldn’t I have done more? Why couldn’t I have saved him? At that point, I feel an arm tighten around my shoulders and begin to lead me away from the grave site. They were going to lower the coffin into the ground now. That would be it, he would be gone forever. Just like that he’d be gone. How could it be over like that? One day I hear his voice on the phone and the next he’s being buried in that coffin. It seems impossible.
I hear the car door slam as they put me in the car. We begin to pull away from the cemetery. I sigh and lean back against the cold, leather seat and allow my mind to wander to the past. I remember that last phone call. It seems like a century ago now. Was it really only 4 days ago? I should have known after last time. The last time they found him in time. I felt guilty enough then, when he called and asked to see me and I told him that I had to work. If only I had known…but they found him then and he was saved. I swore I wouldn’t let him down again.
I knew he wasn’t really better yet. The last time I saw him he looked like he weighed seventy pounds and his eyes…oh God his eyes! They looked empty and glass-like. He told me he was finally out of bed and that he had a job and was going to go back to school. I mean after being out of bed for the first time in three months, I wanted to believe him. He said that he wanted to live and get his life back together. I remember telling him that I would try to help him do that. He began to talk about the past, reconcile our past differences. Oh, they all seem so petty now. How could I have allowed them to hold me back from helping him? How could I have been so bitter and awful?
I look out the window and see the landscape go flying by. People walking into stores; life continuing on without him. I think back to that last day we were together. He was sitting across the table from me at the diner. I never would have believed that would be the last time I’d see his smile, hear his laugh, or the sound of his voice as he teased me.
I finally forgave him that day. I forgave the past, let go of all the ghosts. I forgot the horrible way he treated me the past two years. I wanted to remember the way he used to be before he started changing and falling into his depression and drug use. I realize now that he never meant to hurt me. The last two years were not the real him. It was a ghost of him, encompassing a person who had a disease and needed help. Why wouldn’t he listen and see a therapist? He had so much potential and so much to offer the world. He was going to be a great lawyer and save people.
We pull up to my house now. I feel the door open beside me and someone take my hand to help me out of the car. They lead me through my front door. I slowly climb the stairs to my room and climb into bed. I cuddle the stuffed animal next to me in my arms.
As I lay there my mind wanders again to saying goodbye to him that last day. I had to return to school. I was only going back for three more weeks and then planned to see him over Christmas break. How could that plan go so wrong? I got so busy. I had work to do. It was the end of my semester. Still I should have made more time to call. I never expected that horrible phone call. They had found him again. This time it might not have been soon enough. I had rushed to the airport and got on the first plane there. I got to the hospital in time to see him connected to all those machines. I sat there and held his hand. I will never forget the sound as that loud beep went off and the nurses and doctor came rushing in. That was it, he was gone.
The tears begin to roll down my face again. How could I have failed him? How could I have not been there to remind him what he had to live for? All the things he could achieve. How could he have thought that life was so horrible that it wasn’t worth living?
He’s opened my eyes though. I look around and I see how important things are, how you have to tell everyone how much you love them. You unfortunately never know when it might be the last time you see them. I wish I had told him one last time. It makes me realize that you should forgive people worth forgiving. Good friends are far and few and hard to come by. Don’t let them get away. I will remember the way he used to be before everything changed. I will remember all the good times we shared and try to forgive myself. Goodbye my dear friend, you’ll always be in my heart.
Thursday, September 11, 2003
It was a sunny, summer day. My best friend Alyssa and I were packing up my boat getting ready for a fun day out at the beach.
“Towels?”
“Check.”
“Drinks and sandwiches?”
“Check.”
“Sunblock?”
“Check.”
“Alright let’s go!” I got in the driver’s seat and started the boat while Alyssa fiddled with the antenna and the radio to get us some tunes to set our mood. The chords of “I’ll Say a Little Prayer for You” started singing out from the radio. We started to sing along, and she went up to the bow of the boat and laid out her towel. Then she arranged herself in perfect alignment with the sun to lay out and work on her tan.
I put my sunglasses on and pulled off my own shirt so I just had my bathing suit top on, so I could work on my own tan. It was a glorious day for the beach, I thought as I felt the hot sun beating down on my back.
We zoomed along the flat, clear bay water and waved to hot guys out on their boats along the way. All in all it was an easy trip, concluding with us throwing out the anchors and pushing the boat up on the beach. Once the boat was secure, we carried our stuff out and walked across the parking lot to the ocean side of the beach.
There we kept ourselves occupied, sleeping in the sun, swimming and checking out guys. Before we knew it hours had passed and all of a sudden we were swimming in the ocean and Alyssa said, “Is the sky supposed to be that dark?”
Sure enough the sky had grown menacing with threatening clouds covering the sun. A storm was coming, and it was coming quick. We ran out of the water and packed up our stuff and ran across the parking lot to where we left the boat. There we found a BIG problem. The tide had gone out leaving our boat completely on land.
“The boat’s not supposed to be like that is it?” asked Alyssa. (As you can tell, Alyssa is not always the sharpest tool in the shed, but I love her anyway). We were seriously screwed…We tried to shove and push and but the boat wouldn’t budge. Meanwhile, the thunder was coming closer and closer.
After about 10 minutes of us pushing and shoving, we were sweating and gross and leaning up against the boat waiting for the storm to overpower us. Then all of a sudden we saw these 2 huge guys walking across the beach towards us.
“Hey you girls need some help?” the first one asked.
“Yes please, the storm’s coming and we have to get back.” I answered.
“I don’t know if you girls should go out in that, its getting pretty bad out there.” The second one said.
“We’re not that far and I’d rather try to out run it then wait for us to get trapped here.” I said. The guys exchanged looks and you could tell they thought we were either stupid or crazy and I didn’t like either idea.
“Listen I’ve lived on the water since I was born and I know how to read the sky, if we get out of here now, we have at least ten minutes till its over us, so please if you’re going to help, start pushing now!” I shouted. The guys shrugged and backed off and started pushing us out into the water.
Finally we were floating backwards into the harbor. Alyssa and I waved to the guys as I started the engine and puttered around to face the exit.
“Hold on Lyssie, we’re gonna race the storm home.” I said, as I gunned the accelerator down. Unfortunately, I had read the clouds wrong, and as we were midway through the first channel, the sky opened up. The clear, flat bay from before was gone. Instead huge waves were crashing over the sides of my little 17 foot bow rider. We were flying all over the place and we still had at least a ten to fifteen minute ride across the bay left.
I looked over at Alyssa and we clasped hands. She then decided to tell me,
“I have to go to the bathroom.”
“Well cross your legs, cause there’s no way we’re stopping!!” I shouted. Before I could say anything else, a huge wave of salt water came sloshing over the boat on top of me. The whole boat buckled, as I grabbed the wheel again to try to get it under control. Alyssa looked at me with a truly terrified expression. I was starting to really regret my stubborn refusal to listen to those boys.
The most important thing now was to get home safely, and to calm down Alyssa. I took a deep breath and looked over at her, she was clutching at her seat so tightly her knuckles were white.
“Hey, Every morning I wake up, put on a little make up…” I started to sing.
She laughed and joined in on the chorus
“I’ll say a little prayer for us…” she laughed as she changed the words. We continued to sing in completely off key voices, but it helped, I steered us through the worst of the storm and our silly song helped us to forget the danger that we were in. Finally, a huge streak of lightning, lit the way to my canal. I steered the boat into the mouth of my canal. We heaved a sigh of relief as my house came into sight and I glided into the dock. We had made it. That was definitely an adventure that we will never forget, and that song forever will be our song.
“Towels?”
“Check.”
“Drinks and sandwiches?”
“Check.”
“Sunblock?”
“Check.”
“Alright let’s go!” I got in the driver’s seat and started the boat while Alyssa fiddled with the antenna and the radio to get us some tunes to set our mood. The chords of “I’ll Say a Little Prayer for You” started singing out from the radio. We started to sing along, and she went up to the bow of the boat and laid out her towel. Then she arranged herself in perfect alignment with the sun to lay out and work on her tan.
I put my sunglasses on and pulled off my own shirt so I just had my bathing suit top on, so I could work on my own tan. It was a glorious day for the beach, I thought as I felt the hot sun beating down on my back.
We zoomed along the flat, clear bay water and waved to hot guys out on their boats along the way. All in all it was an easy trip, concluding with us throwing out the anchors and pushing the boat up on the beach. Once the boat was secure, we carried our stuff out and walked across the parking lot to the ocean side of the beach.
There we kept ourselves occupied, sleeping in the sun, swimming and checking out guys. Before we knew it hours had passed and all of a sudden we were swimming in the ocean and Alyssa said, “Is the sky supposed to be that dark?”
Sure enough the sky had grown menacing with threatening clouds covering the sun. A storm was coming, and it was coming quick. We ran out of the water and packed up our stuff and ran across the parking lot to where we left the boat. There we found a BIG problem. The tide had gone out leaving our boat completely on land.
“The boat’s not supposed to be like that is it?” asked Alyssa. (As you can tell, Alyssa is not always the sharpest tool in the shed, but I love her anyway). We were seriously screwed…We tried to shove and push and but the boat wouldn’t budge. Meanwhile, the thunder was coming closer and closer.
After about 10 minutes of us pushing and shoving, we were sweating and gross and leaning up against the boat waiting for the storm to overpower us. Then all of a sudden we saw these 2 huge guys walking across the beach towards us.
“Hey you girls need some help?” the first one asked.
“Yes please, the storm’s coming and we have to get back.” I answered.
“I don’t know if you girls should go out in that, its getting pretty bad out there.” The second one said.
“We’re not that far and I’d rather try to out run it then wait for us to get trapped here.” I said. The guys exchanged looks and you could tell they thought we were either stupid or crazy and I didn’t like either idea.
“Listen I’ve lived on the water since I was born and I know how to read the sky, if we get out of here now, we have at least ten minutes till its over us, so please if you’re going to help, start pushing now!” I shouted. The guys shrugged and backed off and started pushing us out into the water.
Finally we were floating backwards into the harbor. Alyssa and I waved to the guys as I started the engine and puttered around to face the exit.
“Hold on Lyssie, we’re gonna race the storm home.” I said, as I gunned the accelerator down. Unfortunately, I had read the clouds wrong, and as we were midway through the first channel, the sky opened up. The clear, flat bay from before was gone. Instead huge waves were crashing over the sides of my little 17 foot bow rider. We were flying all over the place and we still had at least a ten to fifteen minute ride across the bay left.
I looked over at Alyssa and we clasped hands. She then decided to tell me,
“I have to go to the bathroom.”
“Well cross your legs, cause there’s no way we’re stopping!!” I shouted. Before I could say anything else, a huge wave of salt water came sloshing over the boat on top of me. The whole boat buckled, as I grabbed the wheel again to try to get it under control. Alyssa looked at me with a truly terrified expression. I was starting to really regret my stubborn refusal to listen to those boys.
The most important thing now was to get home safely, and to calm down Alyssa. I took a deep breath and looked over at her, she was clutching at her seat so tightly her knuckles were white.
“Hey, Every morning I wake up, put on a little make up…” I started to sing.
She laughed and joined in on the chorus
“I’ll say a little prayer for us…” she laughed as she changed the words. We continued to sing in completely off key voices, but it helped, I steered us through the worst of the storm and our silly song helped us to forget the danger that we were in. Finally, a huge streak of lightning, lit the way to my canal. I steered the boat into the mouth of my canal. We heaved a sigh of relief as my house came into sight and I glided into the dock. We had made it. That was definitely an adventure that we will never forget, and that song forever will be our song.
Thursday, September 04, 2003
I had a really bad day yesterday. You know one of those days where every little thing goes wrong? Well after tripping down the front steps of my building, slipping on the wet floor of the student center and falling flat on my face, and then choking on a piece of candy in class and having to leave for water in the middle of my professor's lecture...I was ready to crawl into bed early and nurse my bruised soul.
Whenever I'm in a bad mood I rely on one of my favorite movies to pick me back up. Last night's choice was Pretty Woman. Pretty Woman has got to be one of the best movies ever made. I have watched it more times than I could possibly count. I don't know, there is just something about watching a movie so many times that you know all the lines by heart. Its like wrapping a comforting blanket around yourself to forget about reality for awhile.
When I was a young girl, I was obsessed with fairy tales and romance. My favorite movie was Cinderella and I loved reading any fantasy story that ended with "happily ever after". I had a very active imagination and was not at all a shy child. I used to dress up and dance around my house making my family call me by a different name every day. I idolized fairy tale princesses like Sleeping Beauty, Snow White, and Cinderella. I was obsessed with the idea of my own prince riding up on his white horse, taking me away to live in his castle where he'd take care of me and we'd live happily forever.
As I grew older I began to go through different phases of my life. I went to an all-girl high school where they molded us into this "Girl Power" mentality. I began to feel that it was demeaning to be taken care of by a man. I didn't want to fall into that stereotypical housewife role of cooking and cleaning for a man. Not to mention that with my cooking abilities, I'd probably poison my husband if I cooked for him, or at least burn the house down by accident. I began to view marriage as a cage or a trap that I didn't want to be confined to. I began to see that my fairy tale princesses that I had once idolized, were actually very weak women that I wanted to be nothing like.
As I now look back I can see that I had another role model right in front of me that I lived with on a daily basis. As an outsider I can see how different my parents' relationship was. My mother is one of the strongest women I know. Not only was she able to maintain her own career working part-time in her own private practice, but she was able to still have a very active role in raising my sister and myself, keep a beautiful home, and cook dinner at least three nights a week.
However, my father was unique in the fact that he helped my mother, cooked at least two nights a week, and played just as active a role in the carpools and packing lunches for school. My parents had a unique relationship of giving and taking. Both of their opinions and desires mattered. They respected each other equally and lived "happily ever after" together that way.
I believe that I have managed to grow up into an independent, young woman. I have seen my parent's relationship and would like to model my own marriage after theirs, someday. I want my own career and to not have to rely on someone to support me. I want to have my own interests that matter to me. I still am a hopeless romantic and would like to find someone to share my life with, but I want it to be someone that takes care of me and I take care of him just as much. I want someone who treats me with respect and cares for me because is is the nice thing to do and not because he believes that I need him to rescue me.
Its funny how much I have changed since my fairy tale days. Yet still when I am in a vulnerable mood, the first movies I pop into my VCR are Pretty Woman or Cinderella. What can I say? They bring me back to my childhood, which is where I feel safe.
Whenever I'm in a bad mood I rely on one of my favorite movies to pick me back up. Last night's choice was Pretty Woman. Pretty Woman has got to be one of the best movies ever made. I have watched it more times than I could possibly count. I don't know, there is just something about watching a movie so many times that you know all the lines by heart. Its like wrapping a comforting blanket around yourself to forget about reality for awhile.
When I was a young girl, I was obsessed with fairy tales and romance. My favorite movie was Cinderella and I loved reading any fantasy story that ended with "happily ever after". I had a very active imagination and was not at all a shy child. I used to dress up and dance around my house making my family call me by a different name every day. I idolized fairy tale princesses like Sleeping Beauty, Snow White, and Cinderella. I was obsessed with the idea of my own prince riding up on his white horse, taking me away to live in his castle where he'd take care of me and we'd live happily forever.
As I grew older I began to go through different phases of my life. I went to an all-girl high school where they molded us into this "Girl Power" mentality. I began to feel that it was demeaning to be taken care of by a man. I didn't want to fall into that stereotypical housewife role of cooking and cleaning for a man. Not to mention that with my cooking abilities, I'd probably poison my husband if I cooked for him, or at least burn the house down by accident. I began to view marriage as a cage or a trap that I didn't want to be confined to. I began to see that my fairy tale princesses that I had once idolized, were actually very weak women that I wanted to be nothing like.
As I now look back I can see that I had another role model right in front of me that I lived with on a daily basis. As an outsider I can see how different my parents' relationship was. My mother is one of the strongest women I know. Not only was she able to maintain her own career working part-time in her own private practice, but she was able to still have a very active role in raising my sister and myself, keep a beautiful home, and cook dinner at least three nights a week.
However, my father was unique in the fact that he helped my mother, cooked at least two nights a week, and played just as active a role in the carpools and packing lunches for school. My parents had a unique relationship of giving and taking. Both of their opinions and desires mattered. They respected each other equally and lived "happily ever after" together that way.
I believe that I have managed to grow up into an independent, young woman. I have seen my parent's relationship and would like to model my own marriage after theirs, someday. I want my own career and to not have to rely on someone to support me. I want to have my own interests that matter to me. I still am a hopeless romantic and would like to find someone to share my life with, but I want it to be someone that takes care of me and I take care of him just as much. I want someone who treats me with respect and cares for me because is is the nice thing to do and not because he believes that I need him to rescue me.
Its funny how much I have changed since my fairy tale days. Yet still when I am in a vulnerable mood, the first movies I pop into my VCR are Pretty Woman or Cinderella. What can I say? They bring me back to my childhood, which is where I feel safe.
