My Best Friend

Monday, August 29^th is the day I was forever changed. Sitting on the cold floor of the vet with pajamas on, I realized it was going to be the most difficult night of my entire life. It was midnight. My baby boy walked back into me with a catheter on his leg. He looked at me with such sadness. He knew. He knew that he was about to go, and there was nothing he could do about it. He walked over to my lap, looked me in the eye, and wagged his little stump. The tech asked me if I was “ready?”. How do you respond to that? Yes, I’m ready to lose my entire world…

She inserted the shot and my baby boy fell into my lap. I held him close until she said “he’s gone”. I couldn’t believe it, so I didn’t. I continued to pet him until the sadness overcame my body and I began to weep.

It is insane how much a dog can impact your life. They don’t just impact your life, they become your entire world. Tyson wasn’t a pet but rather so much more. He was my best friend, my confidant, and the love of my life. He never failed me. When I was sad, he would silently do all he could to make me smile. As soon as he got the slightest grin from me, his little “stump” (they cut his tail too short) would wiggle back and forth. In middle school and high school, he would wait at the front window until I got off the school bus and entered his presence. He was just always so welcoming.

It hurts me to say he WAS instead of he IS. It hurts to know that I will never be welcomed by that little smashed in face with a sloppy wet kiss. Whenever I was upset, if simply being near me didn’t work, I knew I could always use his shoulder to cry on. Looking back, there were so many times where I just hugged and hugged and hugged Tyson, until the tears stopped flowing. He never backed away from my hugs, but rather embraced them.

It makes me smile when I think of all the times we ran around the couch together. He would chase me until he finally caught up with me. He’d tackle me and attack me with kisses. During the first week that we got him, I decided to ride my rollerblades around the block. I figured Tyson would love the exercise and attached his leash and took him with me. Everything was fine and dandy until a cat ran across the street. He dragged me so far, we had to be going at least 20 mph. He was determined to catch that cat, but seemed so disappointed when it ran up a tree. My mom and I genuinely thought Tyson didn’t have the ability to bark. So the first time we heard his bark will always stand out to me. I had just bathed him in the drive way and I was waiting for him to dry off so I could take him back inside. All of a sudden, I see him look up into the sky and start growling. I looked up and saw a huge BLIMP! Oh man, that was it, Tyson went nuts. He barked and barked and barked until his vocal cords were raw. I would do anything to hear that bark again. 

 There wasn’t a mean bone in Tyson’s body. We couldn’t even teach him to be aggressive towards strangers.  He never held grudges, no matter what. With a quick scratch of the ear, it didn’t matter what happened, you were forgiven by Tysie. 

Losing Tyson is not something that I had ever thought about before. I never dreamed the pain would be this intense because I never imagined I would lose him. I can’t believe he’s gone. I will never see those curious wrinkles in his forehead again. I will never be able to scratch his white chest. Those big brown eyes were the light at the end of my tunnel….

But through all this, I am thankful. I am thankful that God put a creature in my life that showed me the meaning of life. He taught me forgiveness; something that I had a real hard time with before he came along. Tyson wasn’t just my pet, but rather an eye-opening reminder to not take life for granted.

I miss you Tyson but I know I will meet again with you in Heaven someday. I can’t wait to look into those big brown eyes again and watch that short little tail wag again in pure happiness. I love you more than anyone could ever begin to imagine.This is not good-bye, but rather a "see you later".

College Paper

I wrote this paper during my second semester of college. I planned on entering it into some writing contests but never got the opportunity to. Today being the anniversary of Jamie's death, I figured I would share this experience with everyone.

“The Effects of Family”
       The pastor finished his sermon and gathered his belongings. As he cued me with his eyes, I knew this was going to be the most nerve-wracking moment of my life.  My hands were sweating and tears were cascading from my eyelids. My heart began to beat rapidly and I could feel my legs shaking against the pew but as I stood up the fear I had felt a split second before, escaped me. I dried the water from my eyes and began to walk towards the front of the room. I stepped up onto the box that was provided for me because of my inability to see over the podium. When I looked out towards the six hundred pairs of eyes staring back at me, the words of remembrance flowed from my lips with ease. At the age of ten, I began my cousin’s eulogy with “My cousin, Jamie, was the best friend I ever had and I miss him very much.”
      Three days before, on a scorching summer day in July of 2000, things couldn’t have been more different. I woke up bright and early because my mom had promised breakfast at Cracker Barrel that morning. I ordered satisfying French toast and I can still taste the cinnamon from it. My mom and I had an enjoyable day together while running some errands that were long overdue.  By the time we were done with breakfast and finished the extended errands it was already three o'clock. When realizing how long we had been out we decided it was time to head home.
        I am a curious person to this day but my curiosity at the age of ten was unbelievable. Every day when I walked into my house I always ran to the back room, the home of the answering machine. I was always eager to hear a message from a friend. But this time, there were a ridiculous number of messages on the machine. The number six blinked fiercely in red. I anxiously pressed the largest button on the machine that read "play". It was my Uncle Joe, the ex-husband of my mom's sister, with a worry in his voice. The first two messages were hang ups and the next three were followed with, “Please call me as SOON as you get this”. The final message was filled with nothing but tragedy. The painful words poured out of his voice, "Jamie died today around eight this morning, please call me back." Jamie was my cousin, my frantic uncle’s son, and my oblivious mother’s nephew. As I stood in that back room alone, completely flabbergasted, I replayed the last message over and over. After the longest five minutes of my life, my mom had come frantically running into the room questioning about who called and left six messages. With tears streaming from my eyes and my voice cracking uncontrollably I proceeded to tell her what happened. She was stunned and in almost as much shock as myself.
      Later, after the initial shock of my cousin's passing started becoming a reality, the whole story was unveiled. My cousin had died from a drug overdose in New York City. Jamie was the last person our family would have expected to be involved in illegal substances. My cousin was going into his senior year at Johns Hopkins University and his major was in biomedical engineering. He had driven up to New York in search of a rave with friends. Ecstasy was later found in his system along with another drug that was often used by college students in attempt to counter-act the side effects of ecstasy. With further investigation, my family realized that my cousin had a heart attack on the dance floor in a popular New York Club. The club didn't feel the need to seek medical attention for Jamie because of the consequences the club owners would face if drug use was found in the rave. Instead, my cousin was dragged into a nearby room. His heart attack became fatal due to failure to seek proper medical attention after the irresponsible decision to use illegal drugs.

      A few days after the horrible phone call, I flew up to Baltimore, Maryland with my family. As we arrived in Maryland, my family was busy with preparations for the viewing. This event is the most distinct in my memory. I remember glaring into the casket and looking at his chest because the deception of his heart beating. When I questioned my mother’s friend she told me, “Stefanie, your eyes are playing tricks on you.”  After the wake, we had a huge Catholic funeral for my beloved cousin. There were at least five hundred in attendance. Emotions overwhelmed my body. Everywhere I turned in the large church, I was swarmed with a countless number of hugs from loved ones and even strangers. My endless sorrow earned me numerous apologies from many people. I soon realized that I wasn’t the only one drowning in sadness. As my family followed the large box out of the church, Jamie’s sister collapsed. She had been so emotionally drained that her body couldn’t handle the pain any longer. Her actions of exhaustion symbolized what our entire family was going through.

     On the way back to Florida, I sat pondering out of the airplane window. I asked my mom if I could say something to all of Jamie’s friends at his funeral in Orlando. She broke a smile for the first time in a week as a response to my question. When my mom asked her sister, Jamie’s mother, on the drive home from the airport, I remember my aunt giving me the largest hug I had ever received from her. She whispered in my ear “I would love for you to speak at Jamie’s funeral and he would love to hear what you have to say from heaven.”

   As my words continued to flow from my mouth, during my eulogy, I began to feel a sense of peace engulf me. I wasn’t able to cry but rather smile uncontrollably when recollecting memories spent with my cousin. “I will never forget the big bear hugs from Jamie and I will never forget the times we spent together in Aunt Linda’s pool,” I had told the people gathered before me. “Although Jamie was older than I was he always acted silly when around me. Everyone loves Jamie and I am glad to have such a big-hearted angel looking over me from heaven.” When I finally looked up from my wrinkled piece of notebook paper, I felt like a deer in headlights. I couldn’t believe the change in emotion that had overpowered the room. There wasn’t a single being in the room that didn’t have a smile beaming off their face. This is the moment I realized I had exceeded all of the silent expectations of the present crowd including my heartbroken family.

Pointless

It’s incredible to me how one experience can change your life forever. I just don’t understand how so much emotion can fill a room to the point that it makes me laugh, it makes me cry, it engulfs me with a sense of nostalgia, it makes me eager for what my future holds, and it helps me to realize that when I put my mind to something I WILL be able to do it.

Age is funny and it does funny things to you. I remember being five years old and being so excited to go to school I would wake my mom up an hour before she really needed to be awake. I remember loving middle school but hating my lack of friends.  I remember being in high school and skipping classes because I hated it so much. And now, I’m in college and I just can’t wait for it to be over.   

I love to laugh. I escape with laughter. The best laughter is when you keep laughing even though you KNOW you can’t breathe, you’re about to pee, your face is bright red or all of the above.  Laughter is the most enjoyable when surrounded by good friends and there isn’t any logical reason for your joyous outburst.

I want success so bad I can taste it. I hope that when I am finished with my education I will be able to make a difference. I want people to know my name but not because of fame. I want people to know me because I’m a good person that does respectable things.

I don’t think people like Taylor Swift are famous because of their music. Yes, she’s a singer. And yes, I could listen to her on repeat for years (and I have) but I don’t think that is what makes Ms. Swift so admirable. It is because she is doing what she is passionate about. Although my passion isn’t music, I can only hope my passion will take me as far in life as someone like Taylor’s has.

Well, this post was kind of pointless…but hey, if you had something better to do I’m sure you wouldn’t be reading my blog anyways! ;) 

Welcome To My Silly Life

This summer I am taking my last 6 credit hours for my AA degree. I can’t believe it.  I am so proud of myself.

You must understand that 3 summers ago I had no intention of attending college. I walked at my high school graduation in June of 2008 but I didn’t receive a diploma. I failed my English class senior year, so in order to fulfill the requirements to receive that high school diploma; I had to retake the class that summer after I went to graduation.  So for six weeks during that blazing summer, I went to school at 6 in the morning. Meanwhile, all my friends enjoyed their first summer out of high school.

Many of my peers were accepted into the colleges of their choice. Some moved to attend a university and some stayed in the area to pursue their education; but the people who didn’t go to college were usually looked down upon. I was one of them.

After receiving my high school diploma, I decided that if I wasn’t going to college I was going to work. I had two part time jobs, which usually totaled about 60 hours a week. I didn’t think this was such a bad idea. I was making money and having a good time at parties whenever I wanted. I didn’t have to go to school meaning I certainly didn’t have to worry about tests and grades. I hated doing assignments in school. They were always so repetitive and useless. I loved making money and being in the real world.

One day I decided I didn’t want to deal with people who were so angry about their lives that they took it out on a girl scooping ice cream. My other part time job, at the eye doctor, wasn’t too bad. I was the youngest employee and my coworkers were constantly pushing me to get an education. However, I still rejected the idea of going to college.  

Then I realized, my only option if I didn’t go to college was to stay on the same path that I was on currently. I would be living in my mother’s house forever. I would be dependent on others because I was uneducated. Jobs that didn’t originally require a college education were becoming more competitive and the only way to win the job was to have a college degree. Since the age of 12 I wanted to be a teacher, so my best friend and I moved to Gainesville seeking an education.

And here I am. Two years later. I did it. I earned my AA degree in Elementary Education. In another two years, I will have my Bachelor’s in Elementary Education. In another three years (I hope) I will be teaching in my own classroom. I will have children looking up to me, as I did to my kindergarten teacher. I will have a career that I thoroughly enjoy.

Perhaps that year away from school gave me the opportunity to mature. It certainly opened my eyes to the consequences of being uneducated. I look at people from my hometown that never pursued a college education from my graduating class and I feel bad for them, I don’t look down upon them. They don’t know what they are missing! I encourage everyone to get a college degree. There’s no reason not to!

Cheaters Never Prosper

I’m constantly surrounded by awkward situations and I really don’t mind them most of the time. They give me a chance to get a good laugh in for the day.  I’m not afraid to tell you there’s a bat in the cave, your zipper is afraid of heights, or offer you a piece of gum.  A situation is always less awkward when acknowledging the awkwardness of the situation. Right?  

Wrong.

I was standing in line at a Publix Supermarket about 12 months back with three friends when I was presented with the most awkward situation of my life. It was the only time in my life that I can recall being entirely lost. The only time in my life where I couldn’t believe what was taking place not only in front of me but the additional 3 pairs of eyes standing next to me.

We were purchasing ice cream after a distasteful dinner at a nearby restaurant. The man in front of us looked awfully familiar, but being new to Gainesville, I wasn’t entirely sure I was identifying the man correctly. But his uniform was very distinguishable. I instantly related his face with a newly acquired friend of mine from the Gainesville area; it was her boyfriend. I fully expected to see my friend standing next to him but was rather disappointed when the female next to him did not meet my expectations.

I eagerly shared the identity of the man in the uniform in front of us to my friends standing next to me. The four of us walked out of the store slowly behind the “couple” who now had their arms intertwined. My conscious did not allow me to immediately assume the worse, but rather attempted to convince myself that the young woman he was walking hand in hand had to of been his adult daughter.

As the familiar man and unfamiliar woman walked to a van sitting in the second spot of the parking lot, the four of us attempted to walk as slow as possible to get a full view of what was “going down”.  Before I could even blink and before I could even take my next breath of air, the man grabbed the young woman and began to passionately make-out. In front of me, in front of Publix, in front of any one who cared to take a glimpse at the love-scene in the parking lot.

Again, I doubted myself. I was sure that this couldn’t be happening right in front of me. The man got into a car that confirmed his identity. I couldn’t believe it. I was stunned, baffled, and shocked. He was being unfaithful to my friend right in the middle of everything and everyone. But once again, I doubted my observations.

As if this whole ordeal in the middle of the well-lit Publix parking lot at 9pm wasn’t enough to win over my unsure conscious, something happened that wouldn’t allow me to re-consider what I saw. The following day I saw my friend and her boyfriend’s hours were brought up in a casual conversation. She began to tell me how he hasn’t been getting home until late because his job was really over-working him. And there it was….100% Confirmed. The type of work that this man does isn’t something that has extreme night hours. The latest he should be getting home to her is 8pm. But she went on to tell me the night before he wasn’t home until 11:30. And unless he works at Publix (which I’m positive he doesn’t),  I saw her boyfriend the night before cheating on her, and I couldn’t round up enough courage to tell her what I saw.

Why not just blurt out what I saw? Because I was  75% guaranteed to receive negative consequences if I  spewed the observations from my lips. It would be uncomfortable whether I let the situation slip or not. My friend wasn’t someone I was close with. I didn’t have the luxury of telling her what I saw and then never have to see her again; because I would see her all the time.

So what did I do? I never told her. I couldn’t look her in the eyes for months. I saw the boyfriend more frequently and he was constantly sending her lavish gifts. I can’t stand to be near him because he turns my stomach and makes me want to dry heave.  I’m sure he continues to cheat on her  because she still complains about his “late nights at work”. What a sad, sad story.

Do I regret my decision? Not at all. There are some things that should be left unsaid. There are some awkward situations that should never be mentioned of again. This was one of them. You can’t hide forever you scumbag. Your lies will eventually be revealed.  

Gun Shots

It's four in the morning; that means I am four hours past my bedtime. I can't remember the last time I was up this late. I found a lot of interesting things on the internet though; one being this website. Why am I creating this blog? I have no idea. Perhaps it's an escape from the "don't stop, can't stop, won't stop" lifestyle that consumes me. I'm curious to see if anyone even looks at this thing...but it won't hurt my feelings if they don't.

Things happen at four in the morning. My mind begins to wonder but then it is brought back to reality by the noises outside resembling gun shots. A man yelled "what the hell was that?!" and I mumbled "good question". The noises repeated themselves. As I began to find blogs scattered throughout the internet, alarms started going off in my room. I quickly realized they were just old watches. Then my television turned itself off. A pan fell in the dishwasher. My roommate coughed. The early morning hours make me more aware. I sort of like it.

I have a lot to say; but I hold a lot back. I look forward to updating this thing and I hope I will be able to let it all out.