I leave for Buffalo on Wednesday. The rest of my family arrived from Cape Cod last night and I couldn't be happier about spending Thanksgiving with my mom, dad, sister, neice, grandparents, uncle, aunt, and cousins (as well as seeing all the millions of second cousins that still live in the area).
Since I've moved to Pittsburgh, I've been up to Buffalo three times. It seems like it should be more, yet I am incredibly grateful that I can go up so often. It's been nice to just clean the house for my Nonna and cook meals for the both of them. The only downside is that I always ending up gaining five pounds after every weekend I spend there!
The last time I was there, three weeks ago, it seemed as if the whole situation was so hopeless. I don't know what to think anymore. I don't know if I should hold onto hope or if I should resign myself to the worst. The only problem is I can't quite seem to do the latter. I have no reference point in my brain for life without my Nonna. Is that even possible? What will I do without our quiet evenings on the porch just holding her hand? Helping her cook in the kitchen? Hearing her tell stories in Italian? The loving bickering she does with my Nonno? I cannot fathom it. I feel as though so much will be lost with the passing of my grandparents...an entire chunk of history will be gone.
I savor every moment with them...but, it's never enough. I wish I could just absorb everything about them into my very being and keep it forever, always as fresh and clear as it is now and not dimmed by time as I know my memories will eventually become.
How does one even begin to cope with the inevitable?
Sunday, November 22, 2009
On Starting to Run Again.
Every time I take a break from running and then start up again, I always think that I can just pick up where I left off and not have to work myself up to where I was before. It makes me frustrated to think how much faster, stronger I could be if I had just never stopped in the first place.
On Running in the Cold.
The cold air slices through my lungs like a knife and leaves them feeling raw and tattered. Pushing through the pain of my searing chest is worse than pushing through the proverbial "runner's wall." With the wall, it's simply a mental exercise of pushing through the exhaustion and muscle cramps. With my lungs it never gets better....only worse....until the saliva in my mouth tastes like blood and I think that I'm dying.
On How Much I Love my Under Armor.
I adore its thinsulated amazingness.
On Running On A Track.
I've never enjoyed running in a circle, I prefer the changing scenery of running on a trail or through neighborhoods. But, Pittsburgh is so damn hilly that it's hard to run anywhere without killing myself. I'm attempting to work up to it, but, let's be honest, I'm going to be running in the Schenely Oval for awhile yet.
On Always Feeling Like I Have To Outrun Everyone Else.
This doesn't work and only makes me look like an idiot. It's better to find my stride and keep my own rhythm. I am at peace there and could run forever...or until the cold gets the better of my lungs....
Thursday, November 19, 2009
I had an argument with God this evening whilst driving home from work. He won. As usual. Why does He always have to be right? Oh...yeah...He's God.
The last week has been incredibly peaceful and joyful. I've come (again) to the place of contentment and trust, knowing that God will take care of everything, no matter what. And then...today happened. And it's not like anything catastrophic or horrible went wrong, it was just kind of....blah. And I don't know what triggered it, but all of a sudden I was so frustrated to have this longing inside me for something beyond what I have that I started yelling at God for putting the longing inside me in the first place. See, apparently He thinks that it's not good for man to be alone, but I think I'd prefer life without all the drama, thankyouverymuch.
And not that I'm all-of-a-sudden an uber "anything you can do I can do better" feminist, but I've changed dramatically over the past three years to become more and more independent and okay with the single life. Actually, more than okay, just plain old content with it. The fact of the matter is, I've learned to be self-sufficient to the point that I really don't need a man to:
- Make me feel like I'm a complete person
- Do handy things around the house
- Buy me pretty things
- Keep me warm at night
- Hold me when I'm sad
At this point in my life, all of the above are just luxuries, added line items that I can do without. All of the above items except the first one. More and more I get frustrated when the idea is implied that, as a woman, I need to find my worth in a relationship/man. Why? Why is that the way it has to be? It's not the 1950s anymore when women truly did rely on men to provide and take care of them. Now, I am self-sufficient without the help of a significant other.
I can't deny that we were created for companionship (which is where my aforementioned argument with God originated). And I can't deny that it's nice to have a warm body in the bed next to me; however, I don't right now, so why should I pine away for it?
I know and believe all this, and yet, I feel like I was slapped in the face this afternoon by the longing for someone. Why is that? And how do I get it to go away?