Journeys

In the early days, our family always visited my grandparents, Mimi and Nonne, on Easter. I can remember looking forward to those trips for months, before we finally arrived in Wellsville. There was something about spring and seeing the buds on the trees, the robins in the lawn and all those familiar faces (many of whom are gone now). After coming through the long cold winter, those times signified for me, a new beginning.

In my mind, every life is a journey. As we celebrated Easter, I thought of the journey that Jesus took that eventually led to the cross and his resurrection. Everyone is on their own personal journey in life and searching for meaning and answers to the questions that arise and hopefully a new beginning.

This last winter, I was on my way back from work and it was snowing so hard that I didn't feel comfortable on the expressway (highway?). To alleviate my fears, I got off and decided to drive through some city back streets until I made my way back to suburbia. Syracuse didn't do such a good job taking care of their streets this year, nor the sidewalks for that matter. As I meandered my way through, I encountered several people who were walking down the middle of the road out of necessity. I looked out in the dark and the falling snow at these characters and wondered what their stories were. Where were they headed on such a night? home? to the neighborhood store? to rescue a friend or love one? and what memories would they develop during these adventures? I thought of all of my favorite holiday films and how there was always some character who was searching for something and meeting up with the strangest people along the way. These were people (or spirits) that you might not normally associate with (e.g. Christmas Carol, The Walton's Homecoming and It's a Wonderful Life), but come to rely on in a moment of need. In the end, the main character always found personal salvation of some sort and a new beginning in life.

I have been thinking of the idea of journeys for some time. Currently, I am reading a book entitled,  the Goodbye Quilt by Susan Wiggs and it has a similar theme. In it, a mother and daughter take a road trip from their home out West to a college in the Northeast. The daughter, Molly, drives while her mother sews a quilt comprised of special fabric mementos from Molly's many achievements over her short life. The mom is reminiscing while the daughter is becoming more and more apprehensive about her new stage in life. The quilt really ends up being the story of the mom's life and the new beginning that she discovers at the end of their trip.

When Tammie was dying, I thought of the past and how our lives had changed so since we were small. I could see that she was entering a new chapter and that death was not the end but in a sense a new beginning for her. At the time, this was difficult for me to contemplate until a friend pointed it out, but the concept makes perfect sense to me now. This Sunday, I am going to "celebrate" Tam's birthday by running my 7th Mountain Goat Run in Syracuse. Although, not nearly in shape, I decided that this 10 mile journey through Downtown Syracuse, Onondaga Street, Strathmore, the South Side, the University Section, and back Downtown would be dedicated to her memory and hoping that I discover a "new beginning" for me.

Fun with Sean

Today was a very cold day, but Sean was up and I took him to see Tam's bench. During the day, we shared some thoughts and stories about her and I am still having trouble processing what happened.

Life will never seem the same without her.

Last year, I made a post about our trips to the Camillus Ski Association hill that was practically in our back yard. We did this for a few years, but neither Tam or I became outstanding skiers. Last week, Tammie's son, Derek was up visiting and I took him to the old ski hill for a moment, before we headed for Green Lakes State Park in Manlius, NY.

Derek and I also went to a skating rink in Downtown Syracuse. Neither of us had any interest in skating, but it got me to thinking of skating in the past with my family. We used to skate at a park in Camillus, but a couple of years, my parents created a skating rink in our backyard. My dad brought out these old skates that he probably borrowed from Hans Brinker and stormed across the ice with all of his 200 plus pounds. Fortunately for us, he remained on his feet. I can't tell you how much that Tam and I enjoyed skating over the bumpy ice with my parents. I look out over that yard now, and realize how many wonderful moments I had growing up and how much my sister was an integral part of that.

This was the ski hill where we first learned about snowplowing and how to get up from a terrible fall. We had a lot of those.

The best part of these trips for me was warming up with some hot chocolate after the falling had stopped.

Covered in Snow

In My Heart

One year ago, we received a call from my Mother who told us that my incredible sister had passed away.  Despite realizing that the inevitable was going to happen, I was beyond stunned. After I hung up the phone, I tried to process what I had just heard.

That night, the New York Yankees were on their way to another American League Championship and had Mariano Rivera on the mound. Rivera is perhaps the greatest relief pitcher of all time and when he comes in to pitch, the ball game is usually on it's way to being over. I retreated to my bedroom to watch the final outs and my mind drifted back to all the times that I spent alone and how baseball and sports had always been a personal refuge. Today, they couldn't help me hide the pain, however, so instead I just watched as this tremendous pitcher methodicaly closed out yet another big game. He is the one the Yankees turn to when they are in trouble and he almost always comes through. Tammie was that kind of person for me.

As a kid, she was my protector and was seemingly always there when I needed prodding or was afraid. She gave me strength in difficult social situations and helpful encouragement when I needed confidence. There have been so many times over the past year, when I have wished that I could talk to her about something funny that has happened or heard her laugh. Unfortunately, I won't be able to experience any of that, ever again.

Over the weekend, I finished a book entitled Cape Ann by Faith Sullivan.  The book is about a young girl named Lark, who is growing up during the Depression in Minnesota and documents the struggles endured by her and her family. During all the heartbreak and sorrow,  a very close friend commits suicide and Lark cannot make sense or overcome the terrible tragedy.  At one point, the young man's mother tells Lark that she is considering moving across the country and away from her son's grave. In her explanation, his mother says, "Hillyard is gone, Lark."  "What is left of him on this earth is in my heart and in yours."  I know that there is nothing or no one that can bring my sister back to me, but my memories of her and the influence that she has had on me will reside in me forever.

I love you, Tam.

Letter from Mom

Tam,

It's hard to believe that it has been a year since we actually were able to see your beautiful smile and to give you a kiss and tell you we love you. Each day, I think of you throughout the many hours, the things around me remind me of you and Billy when you both lived here. I hope I never have to leave this house.

The last several years, you and your father went shopping and among other things you bought our Christmas cards; I always loved them. This past year, I used the cards that you had purchased. This year, your father and I had to pick out our cards without you. We got some that I'm sure that you would have liked.

Your boys have been so good staying in touch with us and we feel very close to both Sean and Derek. You would be proud of them; you were a good Mother.

The whole family will always remember you and never stop loving you.

Love,

Mom

A Letter From Dad

Tammie,

It doesn't seem possible that you passed on almost a year ago. I was watching stories about you on Facebook that your brother Bill was showing us on his computer and was very happy to see the many friends you had growing up in Camillus.

Honey, I think I must be clairvoyant, as I see you near me every day. You have never left me in spirit and I think that is because of our heavenly father who has taken you into his great kingdom in heaven. He is the reason that you were with us for forty-eight years. Mother, Dad and Billy will think of you, every moment of every day and miss you very, very much.

Love,

Dad