Last night, 3 friends of mine and I went to the Funny Bone on the Levee, in Newport Kentucky. We were there to see Terry Fator, and we were very excited. For those of you who don't know who he is, he is the ventriloquist who won the 2007 edition of America's Got Talent. You can see him all over YouTube; here is a link to his first AGT performance.
This is a story of how a few amazing events led up to one of the most enjoyable nights I have had in a very very long time. By the end of the night, I was truly inspired. I promise to try not to bore you too much. You might want to go pee now. I'll wait.
All set? Excellent.
Believe it or not, just over 2 weeks ago I had no idea who Terry Fator was. I hadn't seen last season's America's Got Talent. I was sitting in an office, filling out some paperwork for a new contract job I was going to be starting the following week. I saw a gorgeous woman walking out, and went back to my paperwork. Then I heard her voice, and knew almost instantly who it was -- my friend Krista, whom I hadn't seen in over a year!
By the time I realized who she was, she was gone. I still had her number, so I texted her, talked to her on the phone, went to lunch with her, and we reconnected. It was as if we had never been apart. She is such a sweetheart, and I had missed her. It's a blessing to have her back in my life.
This was shaping up to be a great day! I had a new job, and I had just run into a good friend I hadn't seen in a while. During our lunch, I found out she was as big a YouTube fanatic as I. She asked me if I knew about Terry Fator, and I said no. She got me to look at him on YouTube, and I totally fell in love with him. He is amazingly funny, and incredibly talented. She told me he was going to be at the Funny Bone in Newport, and I had tickets two days later.
A couple of days later, I got a call from another friend, Jackie, whom I also hadn't heard from in over a year. I met her after work one day, and we sat and talked for a while, also reconnecting. I love her... she really is a sweetheart, and was very happy to have her back in my life as well. I mentioned that I was going to see Terry Fator, and that I had bought two tickets. I asked her if she would like to go, and she enthusiastically said yes.
Excellent! Now I had a date!
Fast forward to last night. Right after work, I hauled ass down to Newport, and sat in front of the door to the Funny Bone. I was the first in line. Krista showed up shortly after, and we sat and played Travel Scrabble until her friend Val and my friend Jackie showed up. By 7 we were in the club, sitting at the best table in the house, front and center. We were very excited.
Shortly after 8pm, Terry came on stage and immediately began his act. He was great; very funny, and an excellent singer. About halfway through the act, his dummy Walter T. Airedale started hitting on Jackie. She really enjoyed it, but she turned about 5 shades of red. Walter seemed to be quite pleased that Jackie and I were "just friends" and turned on the charm. He almost had her, too, until he started yodeling!
So, Terry continued and was winding down his show. He started clearing an area on the stage, and told Jackie that he was sorry for picking on her. To make it up to her, he said he would pick on someone else. The whole time he's telling her this, I knew what was going to happen. I looked over to see Krista crossing her fingers and muttering "please be Mike, please be Mike, please be Mike..." Terry then turned to me and said "Mike, come on up here, you're gonna help me with my next number!" Great.
Krista leapt out of her seat, squealing in joy, and moved her chair out of my way, a huge grin on her face! I won't give away the whole act, because you just have to see it to truly appreciate it. Here is a YouTube video of the act. Just picture me in the outfit. Or not... it's your scarred psyche, not mine!
After the show, Terry allowed me to go to the front of the line and take pictures with him. He gave me a copy of every piece of memorabilia he was selling: a CD, DVD, picture, and a sock puppet his sister made, and he autographed them all.
It truly was an amazing evening. But it wasn't over.
By this time, I had an amazing amount of respect for Mr. Fator. He is very funny, incredibly talented, and just an all-around nice guy. I just had no idea how nice. While waiting for Krista's friend Val (who, by the way, is a doll, and incredibly sexy) to get through the line, We had the priveledge of talking to Terry's manager, who told us a few things I don't think Terry would ever share on his own.
Terry once noticed a poor woman asking about prices to get her nails done. He pulled out his credit card and paid for an entire day of beauty for her at the salon, giving them his credit card number and telling them to add a 20% tip onto the bill. He then walked out, never telling the woman what he did.
Terry was talking to a woman after one of his shows and learned that she was having financial trouble after her father died. He promptly took all of the proceeds from the sale of his merchandise after the show, and handed it to her -- around $5000!
After our show, Terry said he'd meet us at the autograph table in a couple of minutes. He was very late, and people were wondering what was keeping him. "You know those showbiz types." He eventually came out, without a word of apology or explanation, and began signing autographs and greeting fans with a warm smile.
As it turns out, inside the club, he ran into a young handicapped man in a wheelchair being lovingly attended to by his mother. He stopped to spend a good 10 or 15 minutes with him before coming out to greet the rest of us.
I was moved. Here is this guy, adored by an exponentially growing fanbase of millions, giving back everything he can to help people around him. He is an amazing insipiration to me, and has touched my heart. I am humbled by his enormous giving nature. This is a very good man, a truly good soul. He deserves all of the success he has enjoyed so far, and will for many years to come.
Terry, I tip my hat to you, and hope that you have many many years of success in Las Vegas. You are a true inspiration, and I count myself blessed to have met you (and "performed" with you). Your closing performance is perfect -- it truly is a Wonderful World with people like you in it to inspire the rest of us to do good things. Keep up the good work!
---------------------------------------------
View Pictures from the show
Visit Terry's site at http://www.terryfator.com. Hopefully they will soon sell the sock puppets on there. His sister makes them all by hand, and they are adorable. I think the proceeds go to a good cause, but I cannot remember what it is. Terry, if I am blessed enough for you to read this, please let me know what the proceeds from your sock puppet sales go to, and I'll update my blog.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Monday, June 9, 2008
Do you believe in happily ever after?
Recent events in my life have been a tremendous cause for reflection and retrospection. I have a good sense of humor, and love to laugh about things, but it has been incredibly difficult for me to find a reason to laugh lately.
I recently began dating a woman I have known for the past couple of years. She has played in my pool league for a couple of years, and although I never knew her outside the pool hall, I talked to her many times, and over time came to respect her and admire her, for many reasons I don't really need to elaborate on here. Suffice it to say that I have learned over time that she is a warm-hearted, caring, and genuine person; one of those personalities that everyone seems to be drawn to. She attracts friends like a rare earth magnet; once you are in her circle, you are there forever.
Or so I thought.
In mid-March, we began to see more of each other, and within a relatively short time, decided to see each other exclusively. We shared so many things; we are both huge Lord of the Rings geeks, we both are passionate and creative in our own ways, we are "foodies." Our attraction for each other was almost self-destructive; many times, we would stay up all night long talking and otherwise enjoying each other's company, even on "school nights." We recognized this, and made a conscious effort to reign it in, and try to go slow. Considering the passion and attraction, I think we did a fairly good job of it.
And then, I did something stupid. Looking back on everything, I can see that thing as the defining moment in our relationship, where things took a turn down a different road, and before long we were lost, desperately trying to find out way out of the woods, but only managing to get deeper and deeper. What was this horrible thing I did? What is it that would cause such a drastic change in our relationship, and cause us to lose our way?
I fell in love with her.
Yes, that is my horrible crime. A terrible mistake, indeed. She warned me, too--told me that she is not good at relationships. She hinted over and over that she is not lovable, that she has a nasty temper, the likes of which I have never seen before, something so terrible to behold that I should hope it never surfaces. She told me how she doesn't believe that anyone can fall in love after a short time, even though she has fallen instantly in love in her past. She seems to have a low opinion of herself, and doesn't see how anyone can fall in love with her, especially when she has so carefully and painstakingly crafted this perfect image of herself as a cold-hearted, uncaring bitch.
She did't seem to realize that with the X-ray glasses of love, one can see past the exterior shell she donned to the real person underneath: a warm, caring, vulnerable woman who is quite obviously in a LOT of pain.
When she told me about her "Slovak" temper, and how I should hope I never see it, I wondered about that. My first wife had a pretty nasty temper herself, and we had some pretty crazy fights. I am quite a stubborn person, as she is, and I couldn't help but wonder what it would be like if we did end up fighting. Sure enough, we started butting heads about our ideas of where our relationship should be heading. We both agreed that we moved a little too fast, but we completely disagreed where we should go from there.
I felt that we should explore our feelings and try to move forward, cautiously if necessary. Her reaction was to retreat and build a castle around herself.
Our differing opinions were a breeding ground of discontent, and I began to think that it might be about time to see that infamous Slovak temper makes its presence known. Not that I was looking forward to it, of course, but I was curious about how bad it would really be. I was not prepared.
Let me tell you, my friends, my family, and even you, the odd stranger who somehow wandered onto this page and for some reason is still reading this boring story... I encountered something far worse than anything you could imagine. I had this picture of plates flying through the air, smashing into shards on the wall behind me; knives whirling through the air and whistling past my ears. Screeching, and hollering, and screaming.
No. It was worse. Much worse.
What I encountered was... nothing. That's right. NOTHING. Dead, cricket-chirping silence. At first, I figured she was thinking about things, as she said she was going to. I gave her the space she told me she needed, and stopped trying to talk to her, because she told me she wasn't ready to talk. The silence was deafening. Then I found out she was very sick, and I felt like an idiot. I sent her a text to let her know I was thinking about her, and that I hoped she'd feel better. I got little more than a virtual grunt, and only because she didn't seem to like what I had to say. It was pretty obvious she was having some very negative thoughts about me. I put that on her being sick, and left her alone.
But... I loved her, and I am a romantic, so I sent her some flowers. They were definitely delivered; I received confirmation of that. Still... nothing. No "Thank you." No "I got the flowers." No "What the fuck are these for, you piece of shit?" NOTHING. Still... I figured I'd wait.
After a few more days of this, I decided it was time to tell her how I felt about her, regardless of her desire to wait until she was ready to talk. Despite her feelings toward me, which more and more seemed to be on the side of (hatred? loathing? disgust?) who knows what, I loved her. I don't love lightly, and I don't easily give up on the one I love.
But, she told me she also believes in the same things I do about relationships: honesty, communication, trust, and respect. She told me that if she didn't want to be with me, that she'd have said so by now, and that she was trying to figure things out. I had to believe there was still hope, that she would open up her heart, tear down the walls, and stop being afraid to love me back. I hoped and prayed that she would realize that she had a good man who would always be there for her, who would always be at her side when she needed it, who would always leave her alone when she needed her space.
So much for that.
I believe in happy endings. E.T. goes home, Hansel and Gretel kill the bad witch, Dorothy wakes up from a dream, and I find the love of my life and live happily ever after. I am a hopeless romantic, and I will always be. I had hoped for her sake that she would wake up from her nightmare someday soon, and realize just how wonderful it would have been to have someone in her life who loves her: body, mind, heart and soul.
I truly hope she finds that someday. Everyone deserves to be happy. It just won't be with me.
I recently began dating a woman I have known for the past couple of years. She has played in my pool league for a couple of years, and although I never knew her outside the pool hall, I talked to her many times, and over time came to respect her and admire her, for many reasons I don't really need to elaborate on here. Suffice it to say that I have learned over time that she is a warm-hearted, caring, and genuine person; one of those personalities that everyone seems to be drawn to. She attracts friends like a rare earth magnet; once you are in her circle, you are there forever.
Or so I thought.
In mid-March, we began to see more of each other, and within a relatively short time, decided to see each other exclusively. We shared so many things; we are both huge Lord of the Rings geeks, we both are passionate and creative in our own ways, we are "foodies." Our attraction for each other was almost self-destructive; many times, we would stay up all night long talking and otherwise enjoying each other's company, even on "school nights." We recognized this, and made a conscious effort to reign it in, and try to go slow. Considering the passion and attraction, I think we did a fairly good job of it.
And then, I did something stupid. Looking back on everything, I can see that thing as the defining moment in our relationship, where things took a turn down a different road, and before long we were lost, desperately trying to find out way out of the woods, but only managing to get deeper and deeper. What was this horrible thing I did? What is it that would cause such a drastic change in our relationship, and cause us to lose our way?
I fell in love with her.
Yes, that is my horrible crime. A terrible mistake, indeed. She warned me, too--told me that she is not good at relationships. She hinted over and over that she is not lovable, that she has a nasty temper, the likes of which I have never seen before, something so terrible to behold that I should hope it never surfaces. She told me how she doesn't believe that anyone can fall in love after a short time, even though she has fallen instantly in love in her past. She seems to have a low opinion of herself, and doesn't see how anyone can fall in love with her, especially when she has so carefully and painstakingly crafted this perfect image of herself as a cold-hearted, uncaring bitch.
She did't seem to realize that with the X-ray glasses of love, one can see past the exterior shell she donned to the real person underneath: a warm, caring, vulnerable woman who is quite obviously in a LOT of pain.
When she told me about her "Slovak" temper, and how I should hope I never see it, I wondered about that. My first wife had a pretty nasty temper herself, and we had some pretty crazy fights. I am quite a stubborn person, as she is, and I couldn't help but wonder what it would be like if we did end up fighting. Sure enough, we started butting heads about our ideas of where our relationship should be heading. We both agreed that we moved a little too fast, but we completely disagreed where we should go from there.
I felt that we should explore our feelings and try to move forward, cautiously if necessary. Her reaction was to retreat and build a castle around herself.
Our differing opinions were a breeding ground of discontent, and I began to think that it might be about time to see that infamous Slovak temper makes its presence known. Not that I was looking forward to it, of course, but I was curious about how bad it would really be. I was not prepared.
Let me tell you, my friends, my family, and even you, the odd stranger who somehow wandered onto this page and for some reason is still reading this boring story... I encountered something far worse than anything you could imagine. I had this picture of plates flying through the air, smashing into shards on the wall behind me; knives whirling through the air and whistling past my ears. Screeching, and hollering, and screaming.
No. It was worse. Much worse.
What I encountered was... nothing. That's right. NOTHING. Dead, cricket-chirping silence. At first, I figured she was thinking about things, as she said she was going to. I gave her the space she told me she needed, and stopped trying to talk to her, because she told me she wasn't ready to talk. The silence was deafening. Then I found out she was very sick, and I felt like an idiot. I sent her a text to let her know I was thinking about her, and that I hoped she'd feel better. I got little more than a virtual grunt, and only because she didn't seem to like what I had to say. It was pretty obvious she was having some very negative thoughts about me. I put that on her being sick, and left her alone.
But... I loved her, and I am a romantic, so I sent her some flowers. They were definitely delivered; I received confirmation of that. Still... nothing. No "Thank you." No "I got the flowers." No "What the fuck are these for, you piece of shit?" NOTHING. Still... I figured I'd wait.
After a few more days of this, I decided it was time to tell her how I felt about her, regardless of her desire to wait until she was ready to talk. Despite her feelings toward me, which more and more seemed to be on the side of (hatred? loathing? disgust?) who knows what, I loved her. I don't love lightly, and I don't easily give up on the one I love.
But, she told me she also believes in the same things I do about relationships: honesty, communication, trust, and respect. She told me that if she didn't want to be with me, that she'd have said so by now, and that she was trying to figure things out. I had to believe there was still hope, that she would open up her heart, tear down the walls, and stop being afraid to love me back. I hoped and prayed that she would realize that she had a good man who would always be there for her, who would always be at her side when she needed it, who would always leave her alone when she needed her space.
So much for that.
I believe in happy endings. E.T. goes home, Hansel and Gretel kill the bad witch, Dorothy wakes up from a dream, and I find the love of my life and live happily ever after. I am a hopeless romantic, and I will always be. I had hoped for her sake that she would wake up from her nightmare someday soon, and realize just how wonderful it would have been to have someone in her life who loves her: body, mind, heart and soul.
I truly hope she finds that someday. Everyone deserves to be happy. It just won't be with me.
Friday, April 18, 2008
My happy place
The squeak of the chalk cube as I apply it to the tip of my cue. The smooth cool shaft sliding through my fingers. The worn rough felt under my fingertips. The cracking thunder of a well-struck break. The chunk-chunk-chunk of the balls finding the bottom of a pocket. And "Ring of Fire" blaring on the jukebox. Ok, I could really do without that last part. But this is where I'm happy.
Holy crap...
I think we just had an earthquake... In Ohio??? It felt like maybe a
4.0 or so. Can't wait to find out!
Update: Yep. Earthquake. Pretty cool... I haven't felt one in quite some time. Being from California, it almost made me feel at home :)
There's more information about it here.
4.0 or so. Can't wait to find out!
Update: Yep. Earthquake. Pretty cool... I haven't felt one in quite some time. Being from California, it almost made me feel at home :)
There's more information about it here.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
My new blog
I decided to start using Blogger, because of the very cool features they have. Best of all, I can post blogs directly from my iPhone simply by sending an email. How cool is that?
To those of you coming here from my old blog site, welcome. To those of you who are new... well, welcome to you too.
I am sure most of my posts will be random boring observations on my part, but feel free to peruse to your heart's content, and leave me any comments you like.
Are you confused about posts that are older than this one? I brought some over from other blogs, and post-dated them. Ain't computers great?
Thanks, and enjoy :)
To those of you coming here from my old blog site, welcome. To those of you who are new... well, welcome to you too.
I am sure most of my posts will be random boring observations on my part, but feel free to peruse to your heart's content, and leave me any comments you like.
Are you confused about posts that are older than this one? I brought some over from other blogs, and post-dated them. Ain't computers great?
Thanks, and enjoy :)
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Happy Easter, Mom
It's been three months since my Mom died, and it's Easter Sunday. I was raised as a Catholic, but these days I find my faith in God a little shaky. Some of it has to do with my logical mind questioning the validity of the many claims the church has made, and some is due in no small part to the many trials I have been through recently.
But this is not about my lapse in faith. Today I find myself thinking about my Mom, and how much I miss her. She wasn't a church-goer, either -- indeed, she believed in reincarnation. But Easter was still an important holiday to her, and I find myself wishing I could be with her today.
Here is the story of my last visit with my Mom. Read and remember her with love and joy. It is what she would have wanted.
In early December (2007), I got an email from Staci, my ex-girlfriend, telling me that my mother's partner Debby was trying to get a hold of me. I guess she couldn't find my email address, and didn't know that I had cancelled my land line. I called her, and she told me that Mom was sick and in the hospital, and that I should fly out to Reno to see her. I couldn't really afford to miss work (as I was getting paid by the hour), so I booked a flight for early Saturday morning, to return on Monday afternoon. This way, I'd only miss a day of work.
I arrived at the hospital on Saturday, and Mom wasn't looking good. I found out that she had been there for 3 weeks, after catching pneumonia. She looked very weak, but she was happy to see me. We talked for a little bit (with me doing most of the talking; she could barely breathe, let alone talk), and I told her that I missed her, and loved her very much.
On Sunday, Mom put herself on the Do Not Resuscitate list. Essentially, she told them that if anything happened, they were not to go through any extraordinary means to keep her alive. We were heartbroken. This meant that Mom knew she wasn't going to make it. She wanted to make sure that we all were ok with her decision, and that we weren't mad at her. I assured her that I loved her, and trusted her to do what she thought was best. We called my brother Jason, and he was on the next flight to Reno he could get.
Sunday night, they put Mom on a morphine drip. Before she went to sleep, she asked for Jason, and kept asking "how much longer?" She wanted all of her children to be with her before the end. We told her "he'll be here soon." Jason arrived on Monday, and was in the room by 12:45pm. We left him alone with her to talk to Mom for a while. Then we all came back in and gathered around her bed. Debby sat on Mom's right hand, and I was on her left. Everyone gathered close, and we all told Mom how much we loved her, and that it was ok to let go. At 1:45, she stopped breathing, and finally let go. I truly believe that the tremendous love in that room put Mom at peace, and allowed her to stop hurting.
I miss Mom terribly, as I am sure every person she has ever touched in her life does as well. Her legacy lives on in many people. Even now, three months later, I occasionally cry as I think about her. She had a beautiful smile, and a childlike joy for life, which she shared with everyone. I can still hear her laugh, and quite often I find myself hearing that laugh whenever I see or hear something I know she would enjoy.
I would like to close with a copy of the eulogy I wrote for her. I love you Mom. Happy Easter.
Eulogy for Dianna Mary Lee Yielding
delivered by Michael K. Glass Jr.
June 22, 1948 – December 17, 2007
My mother, Dianna Yielding, was a complex, multi-faceted person. Many of you here today knew my mother personally, and many of you knew my mother indirectly through one of her family members. You may have known her as a coworker, a friend, or a support person. Of course, all of my mother’s family here today each knew a part of her, a “facet” of her--as a partner, a mother, a daughter, a sister, an aunt, a grandmother, a cousin.
As many of you may know, I was not raised by my mother. She has always been “Mom” to me, but I have also come to know her as a friend. My mom shared much of herself with me over the years, and I saw sides of my mother as she struggled with her Sarcoidosis that I had never seen before, especially her strong belief in positive thinking and the importance of quality of life. I was privileged to know so many facets of my mother, but certainly I did not know all. There were parts of her life that I didn’t see, relationships that I didn’t know about. Over the past few days, I have heard so many stories about my mom’s strength, courage, humor, kindness, her quietness, her loyalty as a friend. It was so special to hear of these things that my mom said and did, to know some of these other parts of her life. I hope that her friends and family will continue to share these stories with me and with each other so we can continue to know and remember my mom.
Therefore, I would like to share a little about my mother as I knew her--as her oldest son, and as her friend.
I have quite fuzzy and varied memories of my mother when I was very young. After she and my father divorced, and after a lot of moving around, I finally settled into a relatively normal life with my aunt and uncle. I would visit my mother on a regular basis, and it was during these visits that I really connected with her and got to know her on so many levels. Each night I would get ready for bed, which usually was the couch. To this day, I still sleep on the couch when I visit mom’s house.
Mom would come in to say goodnight and tuck me in, and would usually end up sitting with me, talking for hours. I don’t remember what the conversations were about. They may have been about school, or life with my aunt and uncle, or some girl I liked. But she always listened, always answered every question I had in the best way she knew how, and never, ever spoke down to me; she always treated me as an equal. She would continue talking with me until I could no longer keep my eyes open.
As I became an adult, life sometimes got in the way, and I didn’t see her as often as I would have liked. However, we did talk on the phone from time to time, and again we would talk for hours on end. Many times, it felt as if we had some sort of psychic connection. Indeed, my mother firmly believed in this connection. I cannot recall how many times I would call her, and she would pick up the phone knowing it was me – of course, this was before caller ID!
Whenever I really needed her, Mom was there for me, even when nobody else was. No time was this more evident than when I was in the Navy. She was very proud of me, and she never let me forget it. She came to my graduation from Boot Camp, and never stopped smiling, waving, and taking pictures. When I was deployed to the Persian Gulf during Operation Desert Shield and Desert Storm, she was a huge supporter of the Yellow Ribbon Campaign back home. She did not get along with my wife Carrie at the time, but she was able to put her feelings aside and make amends with Carrie, because she knew how much it meant to me. She was there on the dock, alongside my wife, to greet me as I returned home from the Gulf War.
While in the Navy, I attended some classes and received my Associate’s Degree from Columbia College. It wasn’t a huge occasion, just a simple little ceremony, but it was very important to Mom and she flew to Seattle to help me celebrate my success. Yes, smiling, waving, and much picture-taking.
Another facet I can recall is that Mom was the consummate collector. I would not classify her as a pack-rat. She truly loved everything she collected, from DVDs of her favorite TV shows, to books, pens and business cards, to refrigerator magnets, dice and singing hamsters. Watching her shop for new treasures was a pleasure, and it was easy to get caught up in her glee of discovery. I can still hear her joyful little giggle when she would pick up some trinket and make it spin, shine, or sing a Christmas Carol.
For Mom, however, it was never about the “things.” More often than not, the things she would buy would never make it out of the package. They would find their way into a box or drawer, or sit on a shelf still wrapped in cellophane. She enjoyed the hunt, the discovery of some neat little toy. And the smaller it was, the better! Much to Debby’s chagrin, all you had to do was mention some neat gadget you just saw at Walmart, and Mom was out the door, dragging Debby along. Debby lived to make Mom happy, and although she’ll probably never admit it, I think she enjoyed being dragged along on those trips.
Mom was generous to a fault. If you told her in passing that you liked Smarties, she would always remember, and would make sure to give you some every time she saw you. She was probably the best tipper in Reno, and delighted in giving away golden Sacagewea dollars. If you were her valet, grocery bagger, florist, or dry cleaner, then you probably have received numerous gifts from her, including her famous Sees Candies. She truly delighted in making people happy.
One thing I learned early on in my life was to be very careful what you say to Mom. She was very observant, and that mixed with her generosity was a potent combination. I can recall many times when I would casually mention how cool some trinket was, sitting on one of her numerous shelves, and she would invariably say “You like that? It’s yours.” I can’t remember how many times I would return home from a visit with Mom with twice the weight in luggage as when I arrived.
I also knew my mother as a person who didn’t shirk her responsibilities, who did difficult things without complaint. I saw her care for her own sick and terminally ill mother, even having my grandma live here in Reno with her for a while. It certainly wasn’t easy for Mom to become a “mother” to her own mom. But my mom did this, and I have never once heard her complain about it.
I am sure that through the rest of my life, those around me will see flashes of my mother in me--the good and the bad! I am my mother’s own son, after all. Each of you also carry a part of my mother, and at times you will do or say something a certain way because of her. I hope you will always remember my mom, and share her memories with others! There are so many more memories of my mom; I hope you all feel free to share them with me and with each other.
I love you, Mom, and I will miss you.
But this is not about my lapse in faith. Today I find myself thinking about my Mom, and how much I miss her. She wasn't a church-goer, either -- indeed, she believed in reincarnation. But Easter was still an important holiday to her, and I find myself wishing I could be with her today.
Here is the story of my last visit with my Mom. Read and remember her with love and joy. It is what she would have wanted.
In early December (2007), I got an email from Staci, my ex-girlfriend, telling me that my mother's partner Debby was trying to get a hold of me. I guess she couldn't find my email address, and didn't know that I had cancelled my land line. I called her, and she told me that Mom was sick and in the hospital, and that I should fly out to Reno to see her. I couldn't really afford to miss work (as I was getting paid by the hour), so I booked a flight for early Saturday morning, to return on Monday afternoon. This way, I'd only miss a day of work.
I arrived at the hospital on Saturday, and Mom wasn't looking good. I found out that she had been there for 3 weeks, after catching pneumonia. She looked very weak, but she was happy to see me. We talked for a little bit (with me doing most of the talking; she could barely breathe, let alone talk), and I told her that I missed her, and loved her very much.
On Sunday, Mom put herself on the Do Not Resuscitate list. Essentially, she told them that if anything happened, they were not to go through any extraordinary means to keep her alive. We were heartbroken. This meant that Mom knew she wasn't going to make it. She wanted to make sure that we all were ok with her decision, and that we weren't mad at her. I assured her that I loved her, and trusted her to do what she thought was best. We called my brother Jason, and he was on the next flight to Reno he could get.
Sunday night, they put Mom on a morphine drip. Before she went to sleep, she asked for Jason, and kept asking "how much longer?" She wanted all of her children to be with her before the end. We told her "he'll be here soon." Jason arrived on Monday, and was in the room by 12:45pm. We left him alone with her to talk to Mom for a while. Then we all came back in and gathered around her bed. Debby sat on Mom's right hand, and I was on her left. Everyone gathered close, and we all told Mom how much we loved her, and that it was ok to let go. At 1:45, she stopped breathing, and finally let go. I truly believe that the tremendous love in that room put Mom at peace, and allowed her to stop hurting.
I miss Mom terribly, as I am sure every person she has ever touched in her life does as well. Her legacy lives on in many people. Even now, three months later, I occasionally cry as I think about her. She had a beautiful smile, and a childlike joy for life, which she shared with everyone. I can still hear her laugh, and quite often I find myself hearing that laugh whenever I see or hear something I know she would enjoy.
I would like to close with a copy of the eulogy I wrote for her. I love you Mom. Happy Easter.
delivered by Michael K. Glass Jr.
June 22, 1948 – December 17, 2007
My mother, Dianna Yielding, was a complex, multi-faceted person. Many of you here today knew my mother personally, and many of you knew my mother indirectly through one of her family members. You may have known her as a coworker, a friend, or a support person. Of course, all of my mother’s family here today each knew a part of her, a “facet” of her--as a partner, a mother, a daughter, a sister, an aunt, a grandmother, a cousin.
As many of you may know, I was not raised by my mother. She has always been “Mom” to me, but I have also come to know her as a friend. My mom shared much of herself with me over the years, and I saw sides of my mother as she struggled with her Sarcoidosis that I had never seen before, especially her strong belief in positive thinking and the importance of quality of life. I was privileged to know so many facets of my mother, but certainly I did not know all. There were parts of her life that I didn’t see, relationships that I didn’t know about. Over the past few days, I have heard so many stories about my mom’s strength, courage, humor, kindness, her quietness, her loyalty as a friend. It was so special to hear of these things that my mom said and did, to know some of these other parts of her life. I hope that her friends and family will continue to share these stories with me and with each other so we can continue to know and remember my mom.
Therefore, I would like to share a little about my mother as I knew her--as her oldest son, and as her friend.
I have quite fuzzy and varied memories of my mother when I was very young. After she and my father divorced, and after a lot of moving around, I finally settled into a relatively normal life with my aunt and uncle. I would visit my mother on a regular basis, and it was during these visits that I really connected with her and got to know her on so many levels. Each night I would get ready for bed, which usually was the couch. To this day, I still sleep on the couch when I visit mom’s house.
Mom would come in to say goodnight and tuck me in, and would usually end up sitting with me, talking for hours. I don’t remember what the conversations were about. They may have been about school, or life with my aunt and uncle, or some girl I liked. But she always listened, always answered every question I had in the best way she knew how, and never, ever spoke down to me; she always treated me as an equal. She would continue talking with me until I could no longer keep my eyes open.
As I became an adult, life sometimes got in the way, and I didn’t see her as often as I would have liked. However, we did talk on the phone from time to time, and again we would talk for hours on end. Many times, it felt as if we had some sort of psychic connection. Indeed, my mother firmly believed in this connection. I cannot recall how many times I would call her, and she would pick up the phone knowing it was me – of course, this was before caller ID!
Whenever I really needed her, Mom was there for me, even when nobody else was. No time was this more evident than when I was in the Navy. She was very proud of me, and she never let me forget it. She came to my graduation from Boot Camp, and never stopped smiling, waving, and taking pictures. When I was deployed to the Persian Gulf during Operation Desert Shield and Desert Storm, she was a huge supporter of the Yellow Ribbon Campaign back home. She did not get along with my wife Carrie at the time, but she was able to put her feelings aside and make amends with Carrie, because she knew how much it meant to me. She was there on the dock, alongside my wife, to greet me as I returned home from the Gulf War.
While in the Navy, I attended some classes and received my Associate’s Degree from Columbia College. It wasn’t a huge occasion, just a simple little ceremony, but it was very important to Mom and she flew to Seattle to help me celebrate my success. Yes, smiling, waving, and much picture-taking.
Another facet I can recall is that Mom was the consummate collector. I would not classify her as a pack-rat. She truly loved everything she collected, from DVDs of her favorite TV shows, to books, pens and business cards, to refrigerator magnets, dice and singing hamsters. Watching her shop for new treasures was a pleasure, and it was easy to get caught up in her glee of discovery. I can still hear her joyful little giggle when she would pick up some trinket and make it spin, shine, or sing a Christmas Carol.
For Mom, however, it was never about the “things.” More often than not, the things she would buy would never make it out of the package. They would find their way into a box or drawer, or sit on a shelf still wrapped in cellophane. She enjoyed the hunt, the discovery of some neat little toy. And the smaller it was, the better! Much to Debby’s chagrin, all you had to do was mention some neat gadget you just saw at Walmart, and Mom was out the door, dragging Debby along. Debby lived to make Mom happy, and although she’ll probably never admit it, I think she enjoyed being dragged along on those trips.
Mom was generous to a fault. If you told her in passing that you liked Smarties, she would always remember, and would make sure to give you some every time she saw you. She was probably the best tipper in Reno, and delighted in giving away golden Sacagewea dollars. If you were her valet, grocery bagger, florist, or dry cleaner, then you probably have received numerous gifts from her, including her famous Sees Candies. She truly delighted in making people happy.
One thing I learned early on in my life was to be very careful what you say to Mom. She was very observant, and that mixed with her generosity was a potent combination. I can recall many times when I would casually mention how cool some trinket was, sitting on one of her numerous shelves, and she would invariably say “You like that? It’s yours.” I can’t remember how many times I would return home from a visit with Mom with twice the weight in luggage as when I arrived.
I also knew my mother as a person who didn’t shirk her responsibilities, who did difficult things without complaint. I saw her care for her own sick and terminally ill mother, even having my grandma live here in Reno with her for a while. It certainly wasn’t easy for Mom to become a “mother” to her own mom. But my mom did this, and I have never once heard her complain about it.
I am sure that through the rest of my life, those around me will see flashes of my mother in me--the good and the bad! I am my mother’s own son, after all. Each of you also carry a part of my mother, and at times you will do or say something a certain way because of her. I hope you will always remember my mom, and share her memories with others! There are so many more memories of my mom; I hope you all feel free to share them with me and with each other.
I love you, Mom, and I will miss you.
Sunday, December 30, 2007
The power of a word
From time to time, I will put my writer's hat on, climb up on my soap box, and lecture someone on the power of words. I wax poetic on how important it is to use the proper word or words, to convey the meaning you intend; to paint the proper picture in the reader's mind. I'm sure I come off sometimes as a pretentious bore, especially to those people that really don't care how they get their point across, as long as the intended recipient gets the main idea.
Piers Anthony is one of my favorite authors; He has a way of using words that practically sing to you. They splash paint on the canvas, but he ultimately leaves it up to the reader to make his own interpretation of the resulting abstract images. He is a master of the craft, and I can only hope that someday I will possess a portion of the talent that he possesses.
Recently, I was shown the power of a simple word. As I have pondered it, its power has grown, and caused me to shift my thinking in profound ways.
As many close to me know, I have had a very rough time for the past month or two. My mother passed away a week before Christmas; she died while I was holding her hand. I have had some tough relationship issues recently as well. I don't know what fate has in store for me, and it has been very difficult for me to accept.
It is easy to fall apart, to feel sorry for myself, and blame the Powers That Be for putting me through the ringer. I have often spouted such profound statements as "relationships suck," with the intent of garnering sympathy from those who wish to empathize and tell me just how right I am.
Someone close to me has also gone through some difficult times. She said something to me that has since caused me to reexamine my own point of view, and it has shaken me a bit.
She said "relationships can suck."
Of course, when she first said it, I completely agreed. Yep, that's what I always say: relationships suck. Then I did a mental double-take. That is so NOT what she said. She said they CAN suck.
Have you ever played Boggle? I have been searching the Boggle dice of my life for some sort of purpose, some meaning, some great 8-letter word that will blow everyone's mind. That simple statement upended the dice, and gave me a completely new playing grid. I'm seeing all sorts of potential, and it has energized me in a way that nothing else has.
Everybody dies. I can't wallow in self-pity forever, pining over the lost opportunities with my father. He is gone, and I am not to blame for the chasm that separated us when he was alive. I cannot go back and fix the problems he and I had. It's time to move forward.
I cannot bring back my Mom. She asked me to let her go, to be at peace with her decision to not suffer any more pain. How can I mourn her passing, when she herself believed that she was moving on to something better, and would not have to suffer any more. It's time to celebrate her life, and her legacy. It's time to move forward.
Sometimes, someone comes along in your life, and they have a tremendous impact. I am lucky to have had someone enter my life who really seems to "get" me in ways nobody ever has. She has helped me get through some very rough times, and for that I am eternally grateful.
What a word, "can!" It takes the finality out of any phrase; relationships can suck, but they don't always. It gives us hope; the 49ers can do well next year (ok, I know, a big stretch there). It certainly has made me think, and I realize, I CAN turn my life around. I can take care of my finances, and turn over a new leaf. I can let go and let destiny take its course.
Life can suck sometimes, but it doesn't have to.
Piers Anthony is one of my favorite authors; He has a way of using words that practically sing to you. They splash paint on the canvas, but he ultimately leaves it up to the reader to make his own interpretation of the resulting abstract images. He is a master of the craft, and I can only hope that someday I will possess a portion of the talent that he possesses.
Recently, I was shown the power of a simple word. As I have pondered it, its power has grown, and caused me to shift my thinking in profound ways.
As many close to me know, I have had a very rough time for the past month or two. My mother passed away a week before Christmas; she died while I was holding her hand. I have had some tough relationship issues recently as well. I don't know what fate has in store for me, and it has been very difficult for me to accept.
It is easy to fall apart, to feel sorry for myself, and blame the Powers That Be for putting me through the ringer. I have often spouted such profound statements as "relationships suck," with the intent of garnering sympathy from those who wish to empathize and tell me just how right I am.
Someone close to me has also gone through some difficult times. She said something to me that has since caused me to reexamine my own point of view, and it has shaken me a bit.
She said "relationships can suck."
Of course, when she first said it, I completely agreed. Yep, that's what I always say: relationships suck. Then I did a mental double-take. That is so NOT what she said. She said they CAN suck.
Have you ever played Boggle? I have been searching the Boggle dice of my life for some sort of purpose, some meaning, some great 8-letter word that will blow everyone's mind. That simple statement upended the dice, and gave me a completely new playing grid. I'm seeing all sorts of potential, and it has energized me in a way that nothing else has.
Everybody dies. I can't wallow in self-pity forever, pining over the lost opportunities with my father. He is gone, and I am not to blame for the chasm that separated us when he was alive. I cannot go back and fix the problems he and I had. It's time to move forward.
I cannot bring back my Mom. She asked me to let her go, to be at peace with her decision to not suffer any more pain. How can I mourn her passing, when she herself believed that she was moving on to something better, and would not have to suffer any more. It's time to celebrate her life, and her legacy. It's time to move forward.
Sometimes, someone comes along in your life, and they have a tremendous impact. I am lucky to have had someone enter my life who really seems to "get" me in ways nobody ever has. She has helped me get through some very rough times, and for that I am eternally grateful.
What a word, "can!" It takes the finality out of any phrase; relationships can suck, but they don't always. It gives us hope; the 49ers can do well next year (ok, I know, a big stretch there). It certainly has made me think, and I realize, I CAN turn my life around. I can take care of my finances, and turn over a new leaf. I can let go and let destiny take its course.
Life can suck sometimes, but it doesn't have to.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)