It probably comes as no surprise when I say that the last post took a lot out of me. That's why I haven't posted in over a week. Now I'll try to get y'all back up to speed.
Been fighting a sinus/ear infection that has the added benefit of giving me some TMJ problems as well. No chewing gum for me for awhile. While the kids were home over spring break, I did not go to the gym once. Feels like I slid more than just a week, even though it's only that much actual time. The good news is the first time back last week I did a full-on workout with extended cardio and upper body, and I wasn't too sore afterward. I've also been keeping up with my chiro and massage, so the muscles and spine are in good shape. And my LMP has been studying reflexology, so I get to be her guinea pig. Fine by me!
Got a visit from my buddy Hans over Easter weekend. Hans and I were the first artists at Boss Game Studios back in the early 3D days (circa 1994). Remember the first Sony Playstation (aka PSX)? The Sega Saturn? The Nintendo Virtual Boy? I don't blame you if you don't remember that last one - it was on the market for about five seconds. Hans still works as an artist in the game industry, albeit in San Diego - so whenever he comes up to Seattle to visit family, we try to meet up. We're like a couple dorky kids when we get together.
Things with Tyler have been going pretty smoothly, despite a small incident today. He's really starting to show an amazing level of maturity. In fact, he took his last month's allowance that he'd saved and opened a savings account today. Wow!
Kayleigh was invited by the owner of her dance studio to join a second class during the week - the members of which will do a second performance at this year's recital. This morning as I was dropping her off at school, she wished me luck dealing with Tyler. That made me chuckle.
Kayleigh and I went to the Pacific NW Ballet production of Sleeping Beauty on Saturday night, thanks to a fellow widda in my Gilda's group. It was a lavish, beautiful performance - although at 3 hours with 3 intermissions, a tad long for the younger set. Honestly, ballet is probably my least favorite of the classical arts. There are only so many moves and so many solos I can watch before I'm making a snowflake out of my program or counting the lights on the grid. But it's hard to beat a top-notch ballet company doing their shtick to Tchaikovsky's famous score (played by one of the best orchestras in the world). The sets were fantastic, the makeup and costumes amazing. In fact, I must mention the coolest thing for me personally as a history geek: the first half is set in a 17th century fairy tale kingdom. Long hair and van dykes, cavalier jackets and floppy boots. Totally appropriate given that the origins of the written story date back to the 17th Century French folklorist Charles Perrault. Then, after Aurora falls asleep for 100 years and we meet the prince who will save her, everyone is wearing 18th Century waistcoats and tricorn hats. Very cool - "hats off", as it were, to the costume designer.
I've been getting a lot of email correspondence from the folks putting on my 20th high school reunion. Although I plan on going to California to meet up with some old friends that weekend (and will probably go to the family picnic), I have decided I am not attending the reunion dinner. Five hours of constant reminders of Sam and having to tell the story over and over just doesn't fill me with warm fuzzies.
I just finished editing a commercial for Steve Hartley's caricature business, Muggshotz. I feel like my old editing chops are starting to thaw. Also finished a second draft of Ordinary Angels, which now has a producer and a casting director. I'm putting together a scope for a documentary on the widowing process and starting a new life. There have been several widdas who have come forward to offer interviews. I think it's a promising project. Looks like I will be directing the fall show on the Twelfth Night Productions season - I've proposed A.R. Gurney's The Dining Room. Small cast, one set, limited costume changes. The ideal show for a space like Youngstown.
Other than that, the weather in Seattle has been beautiful - sunny and mid-70s with a gentle breeze. It feels like spring - it feels like rebirth. The summer schedule is filling up and the demolition on the house is supposed to start this week. Things are looking up.
Thanks for checking in!
Monday, April 24, 2006
Wednesday, April 12, 2006
Dear Sam,
One year ago today I watched you take your last breath, a moment I will never forget. For the next several hours, you lay peacefully on the hospice bed while I waited for the couriers to come pick up your body for donation to the UW Medical School. I sat there in the family room with your brother and his wife and the three of us conversed in the most oddly calm manner - a clear combination (at least on my part) of shock, exhaustion and relief. Relief because your fight, and hence our fight, was over. After your body had been removed, I picked up the neck pillow I'd placed under your head the previous night, and was shocked to find it was still warm, after 5+ hours. I carried that pillow around the rest of the day, and kept it in bed with me for weeks. Anything that carried your scent or reminded me of you was hoarded. I obsessed over your recordings and images, tried to locate every bit of you I could find.A year later, I still think about you every day. I still remember the way you smelled, the way I could get you to laugh at just about anything, the way your head felt cradled in the crook of my neck and chest when you came looking for a hug. I miss the comfort of going to sleep with you beside me, and waking up next to you in the morning. I miss talking shop about kids, acting, theater, film and publishing. I miss debating the merits of a particular novel or play, or a certain childrearing technique. I miss traveling with you, whether it be a road trip or a long vacation to a foreign country. Lord, how I miss your awesome cooking!
Though I believe you are still out there, watching out for the kids and me, I miss having your corporeal energy, your physical presence in my life. Will I ever stop missing you? Perhaps in the years to come, the craving will be less acute. But I don't anticipate living a single day and not thinking about you, about us, for at least a few minutes. We shared a formative portion of our lives, and I'm profoundly honored and proud to have been your partner, friend, confidant and lover for the 20 years we were together.
You know how the last year has been for us. You know my dad followed your exit at the end of May. You know the city flooded our bedrooms with raw sewage and the subs cleaning the furnace burned down the house. Any one of those events would have been much more tolerable with you at my side, but to face all of them in concert without you was more than I thought I could bear.
But I did.
You see, losing you brought out an inner strength I thought came from you. But it turns out it was within me all the time. Losing you made me strong enough to face these other disasters, to protect our children and soldier on with them. If there's anything positive I can take away from the loss of my high school sweetheart, it's the realization that I am stronger and more capable than I ever thought possible.
All this being said, here we are a year later... and I am extremely positive looking forward. The immediate pain I felt from having you ripped away from me and from the kids has dulled with time, and will continue to do so. I have dated, but have found I don't need to tie my identity to a relationship - so now I'm concentrating on the kids and the business. I continue to work with the theater group you were instrumental in introducing me to. I continue making strides toward a return to film, which you so ardently supported before your passing (and for which I will be eternally grateful). I found I hadn't lost my camera chops - so theory still serves me, even though I was technologically not up-to-speed. Some of my creativity has come back. I'm returning to a semblance of balance.
Really what I mean by all of this is... thank you. Thank you for being in my life for 20 wonderful years. Thank you for giving me two amazing children. Thank you for making me realize my strength and identity are not tied to outside influences. And most of all, thank you for continuing to inspire me (and others) in continuously new and creative ways.
I will always love you, Samantha Kate.
Love,
Todd
Sunday, April 09, 2006
A Year Approaches
I haven't posted all week due to a few reasons:
1) I was getting actual work done (evident in my 2nd draft of Ordinary Angels).
2) I was being sick.
3) The last week before spring break entails a lot of school-related activities.
4) I was also indulging in my favorite form of crack - some tactical strategy games, namely Star Wars: Empire at War (which has all the cool stuff about Star Wars without any of the lameness), and Warhammer 40,000: Dawn of War (which is based on a tactical miniatures game I used to play back in the day - which was a Wednesday, if you believe Dane Cook).
I'd feel a lot worse about #4 if #1 and #2 weren't the case. :)
I wanted to give a big shout out to GAMA, the Game Manufacturers Association, who held a silent auction at this year's GTS show, and presented us with a generous check. Thanks Anthony, and all the wonderful folks who made the auction happen. I keep marveling at the generosity of our industry. It really helps, guys. Thank you.
And to the generous folks in the Puget Sound area who donated to the Seattle's Bravest firefighter charity - thank you. We were presented with another check that really helps take the sting out of the out-of-pocket expenses we have absorbed (and will have to absorb until we get a final insurance settlement). Dave came out to the house with a big envelope full of your cards and notes. You are all wonderful.
There's been a huge buildup in my mind regarding this coming Wednesday, which will mark 1 year since Sam died. Since our family was transformed. Since the kids lost their mom. Since my life as I knew it ended. I don't know how I will observe/handle/cope with the day. I guess we'll find out. Don't be surprised to see another open letter to Sam. It's kind of my shtick, I guess.
I've been doing a lot of thinking about Sam. There's still some longing, some looking back with a tear and a sigh. But that looking back is from a completely foreign perspective now. I look at those old photos and it's like observing someone else's life... like, "oh yeah, I knew that guy... married, couple kids, videogame designer..." It just doesn't seem like me anymore - probably because I feel fundamentally different at the core. And while I might sometimes wistfully remember what it was like being him with her, that is a dynamic that no longer exists. That combination, that equation is no longer valid. It has gone out into the universe as something good and loving and unique, and will never be seen again.
I don't usually talk about a lot of metaphysical stuff on this blog, due to the fact that it is very personal to me (and I only post stuff I feel comfortable sharing with the world at large). But interestingly, Tyler confessed to having had a dream about Sam, where she briefly talked to him. That was good to hear - it's only about the second time he's talked about his mom appearing in a dream. According to Tyler, she said she was glad we'd found a temporary place to live, she was glad Tyler and I were getting along better (we are), and she was sorry about James Brown's accident (he's still not recovered, but is slowly gaining back some use of his hind legs - a good sign). I don't claim these "visits" are anything more nor less than what they appear to be. If they are real to the dreamer, so be it. Sam & I shared too many freaky "connection" moments for me to disregard the possibility of a persistent soul. I also had a dream about Sam last night, on the eve of a road trip up to Bellingham to help celebrate my grandparents' 65th wedding anniversary. Seemed like she was just checking in and giving me a hug to keep moving forward.
Picked up my brother & sister-in-law bright and early, and trekked up to the B-ham. We surprised my grandparents at their church, and all of us went to brunch after the service. There was a time (recently) when I would have been sour and jealous at the thought of celebrating such a wonderful anniversary - from a purely selfish perspective (like that could have been Sam and me eventually, blah blah blah, bitter bitter bitter). But I'm a lot more at peace with the way things are, the way things have been, and the way things will be. And VERY happy that my grandparents are still here with us and celebrating such a great milestone! I love them dearly and I'm glad we made the trip. Photo, L: Jack & Dorothy Brown, April 1941. Photo, R (from Left): sister-in-law Michelle, grandmother Dorothy (aka Omi), little sister Sara, yours truly, grandfather Jack (aka Opa), and little brother Gavin (who is taller than me, so "little" only refers to our chronological age).
My best friend, Randy, has been working on some CAD designs for proposed alterations to the house when they get to rebuilding. There's a lot of talk of opening up the upstairs quite a bit, to allow more flow. There are also some alternate designs that include an enclosed garage (we've had a carport since day one) and a dedicated studio space above. I keep remembering what Sam said when she'd decided on that house 11 years ago (much to my astonishment): "It's perfect."
"It's too small for us," I worried. "We already have Tyler, and we want to have a second kid - this place isn't big enough." "But the lot is huge," she countered, "and we can add on..." It was totally the wrong reason to buy a house, but the fact that within 5 years we'd doubled the square footage drove her point home. Because of the home's modest beginnings as a 1924 craftbuilt 1-bedroom bungalow, there were always space issues - not enough storage, small rooms sectioned off from one another, plaster/lathe walls filled with blown newspaper insulation (most of which had settled halfway down the wall after 80 years), a full bath upstairs which was rarely used since the basement was turned into living space. Now we have the opportunity to make it a truly useful space with lots of storage and good flow. I'm really excited to see what we can do. And my adjuster says we should have approval to start work by Friday of this coming week.
Caleb and I were watching the documentary Murderball the other night, and it really inspired me to start interviewing some of my friends in the widda community, with the goal of assembling a compelling documentary piece on spouse/partner loss.
Kayleigh's having a blast with her cousin and my stepmom in Oregon. They are visiting a friend's farm and getting to feed the new lambs. It's a valuable experience to have - every kid should at least visit a farm.
That's all for now. No school for the kids this week. There's a beer with my name on it and rebel scum who need a good Imperal smiting. More later.
1) I was getting actual work done (evident in my 2nd draft of Ordinary Angels).
2) I was being sick.
3) The last week before spring break entails a lot of school-related activities.
4) I was also indulging in my favorite form of crack - some tactical strategy games, namely Star Wars: Empire at War (which has all the cool stuff about Star Wars without any of the lameness), and Warhammer 40,000: Dawn of War (which is based on a tactical miniatures game I used to play back in the day - which was a Wednesday, if you believe Dane Cook).
I'd feel a lot worse about #4 if #1 and #2 weren't the case. :)
I wanted to give a big shout out to GAMA, the Game Manufacturers Association, who held a silent auction at this year's GTS show, and presented us with a generous check. Thanks Anthony, and all the wonderful folks who made the auction happen. I keep marveling at the generosity of our industry. It really helps, guys. Thank you.
And to the generous folks in the Puget Sound area who donated to the Seattle's Bravest firefighter charity - thank you. We were presented with another check that really helps take the sting out of the out-of-pocket expenses we have absorbed (and will have to absorb until we get a final insurance settlement). Dave came out to the house with a big envelope full of your cards and notes. You are all wonderful.
There's been a huge buildup in my mind regarding this coming Wednesday, which will mark 1 year since Sam died. Since our family was transformed. Since the kids lost their mom. Since my life as I knew it ended. I don't know how I will observe/handle/cope with the day. I guess we'll find out. Don't be surprised to see another open letter to Sam. It's kind of my shtick, I guess.
I've been doing a lot of thinking about Sam. There's still some longing, some looking back with a tear and a sigh. But that looking back is from a completely foreign perspective now. I look at those old photos and it's like observing someone else's life... like, "oh yeah, I knew that guy... married, couple kids, videogame designer..." It just doesn't seem like me anymore - probably because I feel fundamentally different at the core. And while I might sometimes wistfully remember what it was like being him with her, that is a dynamic that no longer exists. That combination, that equation is no longer valid. It has gone out into the universe as something good and loving and unique, and will never be seen again.
I don't usually talk about a lot of metaphysical stuff on this blog, due to the fact that it is very personal to me (and I only post stuff I feel comfortable sharing with the world at large). But interestingly, Tyler confessed to having had a dream about Sam, where she briefly talked to him. That was good to hear - it's only about the second time he's talked about his mom appearing in a dream. According to Tyler, she said she was glad we'd found a temporary place to live, she was glad Tyler and I were getting along better (we are), and she was sorry about James Brown's accident (he's still not recovered, but is slowly gaining back some use of his hind legs - a good sign). I don't claim these "visits" are anything more nor less than what they appear to be. If they are real to the dreamer, so be it. Sam & I shared too many freaky "connection" moments for me to disregard the possibility of a persistent soul. I also had a dream about Sam last night, on the eve of a road trip up to Bellingham to help celebrate my grandparents' 65th wedding anniversary. Seemed like she was just checking in and giving me a hug to keep moving forward.
Picked up my brother & sister-in-law bright and early, and trekked up to the B-ham. We surprised my grandparents at their church, and all of us went to brunch after the service. There was a time (recently) when I would have been sour and jealous at the thought of celebrating such a wonderful anniversary - from a purely selfish perspective (like that could have been Sam and me eventually, blah blah blah, bitter bitter bitter). But I'm a lot more at peace with the way things are, the way things have been, and the way things will be. And VERY happy that my grandparents are still here with us and celebrating such a great milestone! I love them dearly and I'm glad we made the trip. Photo, L: Jack & Dorothy Brown, April 1941. Photo, R (from Left): sister-in-law Michelle, grandmother Dorothy (aka Omi), little sister Sara, yours truly, grandfather Jack (aka Opa), and little brother Gavin (who is taller than me, so "little" only refers to our chronological age).My best friend, Randy, has been working on some CAD designs for proposed alterations to the house when they get to rebuilding. There's a lot of talk of opening up the upstairs quite a bit, to allow more flow. There are also some alternate designs that include an enclosed garage (we've had a carport since day one) and a dedicated studio space above. I keep remembering what Sam said when she'd decided on that house 11 years ago (much to my astonishment): "It's perfect."
"It's too small for us," I worried. "We already have Tyler, and we want to have a second kid - this place isn't big enough." "But the lot is huge," she countered, "and we can add on..." It was totally the wrong reason to buy a house, but the fact that within 5 years we'd doubled the square footage drove her point home. Because of the home's modest beginnings as a 1924 craftbuilt 1-bedroom bungalow, there were always space issues - not enough storage, small rooms sectioned off from one another, plaster/lathe walls filled with blown newspaper insulation (most of which had settled halfway down the wall after 80 years), a full bath upstairs which was rarely used since the basement was turned into living space. Now we have the opportunity to make it a truly useful space with lots of storage and good flow. I'm really excited to see what we can do. And my adjuster says we should have approval to start work by Friday of this coming week.
Caleb and I were watching the documentary Murderball the other night, and it really inspired me to start interviewing some of my friends in the widda community, with the goal of assembling a compelling documentary piece on spouse/partner loss.
Kayleigh's having a blast with her cousin and my stepmom in Oregon. They are visiting a friend's farm and getting to feed the new lambs. It's a valuable experience to have - every kid should at least visit a farm.
That's all for now. No school for the kids this week. There's a beer with my name on it and rebel scum who need a good Imperal smiting. More later.
Saturday, April 01, 2006
Emerald City + Shop Talk
Caleb & I showed up at the Emerald City Comicon this morning, and I broke in the HDV cam with some crowd and vendor shots for Brian & Co. to use in their advertising next year. Also took some footage of Steve doing caricatures. I want to assemble a mini-commercial for his website. It's really great being associated with the great guys who run the show, because I get to watch a friend's project blossom and become a success from within. The show has grown enormously in its scant four years, and Brian, George and Jim (and a small army of partners in crime) deserve all the success this show has coming. And there is more to come - mark my words.
We shmoozed from 9:30 until about 12:30 and then headed back to the homestead. Gavin took Tyler to Ice Age 2, and Caleb and I hung out with Heath Ward, whom I declare forthwith to be The Nicest Dude in Indie Film in Seattle. We talked shop, and discussed how we'd like to do the Ordinary Angels project. He's got some great ideas, and has some great motivating energy. He wants to be attached to the project, and I am looking forward to the collaboration.
Well, the clocks get set forward tonight, so I'm gonna try to put the kids to bed. TTFN.
We shmoozed from 9:30 until about 12:30 and then headed back to the homestead. Gavin took Tyler to Ice Age 2, and Caleb and I hung out with Heath Ward, whom I declare forthwith to be The Nicest Dude in Indie Film in Seattle. We talked shop, and discussed how we'd like to do the Ordinary Angels project. He's got some great ideas, and has some great motivating energy. He wants to be attached to the project, and I am looking forward to the collaboration.
Well, the clocks get set forward tonight, so I'm gonna try to put the kids to bed. TTFN.
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
One Whole Person
It's been a crazy week. Lots of fighting with Tyler over stupid things. I try my best to get him to open up, but he's so closed off - I don't know if even he knows how to access and process his emotions right now. I'm hoping the counselor can give us some more insight and tools to help. Kayleigh wears her emotions a mile in front of her and can have a meltdown at the slightest provocation, but at least it's all right there and can be dealt with. Tyler maintains an excellent poker face, and his frustrations tend to come out in other, seemingly non-related ways. Now throw the beginning stages of puberty into the mix and - voila! - instant family drama.
RestorX returned three acoustic guitars to me. The Ovation Sam gave me survived the fire, as did my mother's Spanish style folk guitar (which must be at least 40 years old at this point). The third was a 6-string belonging to Sam, which frustrated her because it sounded tinny and never stayed in tune. Funny what survives. Anyway, I was elated to have them back, because I'd really been jonesing to play for several weeks. On the same day, a lot of my replacement studio gear arrived on my doorstep, which is really inspiring.
No sooner did I mention my exclusive dating relationship with MD than I began to feel like I'd taken another premature step. We'd had a terrific week of fun and romance, but when she started her new job and I went back to my schedule, we found we weren't able to meet as often, and the chemistry dampened. We have called the "relationship" quits, although we are still fond of each other and are remaining friends. I don't think it's a boast to say I've fared pretty well in that department, remaining friends with the women I've dated.
The weird schedule dance with MD also bore its own gift - the realization that I don't have to be in a relationship to be a whole person. I'd been part of a couple since I was 16, so I naturally developed a sense of completeness that was tied to my relationship. And because Sam was so much of my stimulus-response existence for so long, when she died I really did feel that chemical withdrawal those in the know said that I would. In a way, I look at my dating during the past year as a sort of "emotional methadone". And if I ended up helping the woman in her own situational process (as both LA & MD said I did), so much the better.
And now it's time to be okay with being single. More time to focus on my craft, more time to focus on the kids, less distraction from matters like the house reconstruction. Sure, I miss the emotional and physical intimacy, and eventually I'll find the right person to permanently share it with. Overall, I feel like I was really putting a lot of work into dating. Not that I've had a lot of experience, but what little I have has taught me the stuff that needs to happen to you usually does so when you aren't looking.
I'm starting to feel a bit of creativity returning, after a long, dry spell. Guess we'll see where it goes.
RestorX returned three acoustic guitars to me. The Ovation Sam gave me survived the fire, as did my mother's Spanish style folk guitar (which must be at least 40 years old at this point). The third was a 6-string belonging to Sam, which frustrated her because it sounded tinny and never stayed in tune. Funny what survives. Anyway, I was elated to have them back, because I'd really been jonesing to play for several weeks. On the same day, a lot of my replacement studio gear arrived on my doorstep, which is really inspiring.
No sooner did I mention my exclusive dating relationship with MD than I began to feel like I'd taken another premature step. We'd had a terrific week of fun and romance, but when she started her new job and I went back to my schedule, we found we weren't able to meet as often, and the chemistry dampened. We have called the "relationship" quits, although we are still fond of each other and are remaining friends. I don't think it's a boast to say I've fared pretty well in that department, remaining friends with the women I've dated.
The weird schedule dance with MD also bore its own gift - the realization that I don't have to be in a relationship to be a whole person. I'd been part of a couple since I was 16, so I naturally developed a sense of completeness that was tied to my relationship. And because Sam was so much of my stimulus-response existence for so long, when she died I really did feel that chemical withdrawal those in the know said that I would. In a way, I look at my dating during the past year as a sort of "emotional methadone". And if I ended up helping the woman in her own situational process (as both LA & MD said I did), so much the better.
And now it's time to be okay with being single. More time to focus on my craft, more time to focus on the kids, less distraction from matters like the house reconstruction. Sure, I miss the emotional and physical intimacy, and eventually I'll find the right person to permanently share it with. Overall, I feel like I was really putting a lot of work into dating. Not that I've had a lot of experience, but what little I have has taught me the stuff that needs to happen to you usually does so when you aren't looking.
I'm starting to feel a bit of creativity returning, after a long, dry spell. Guess we'll see where it goes.
Thursday, March 23, 2006
Detoxing
The last couple days have been sorta icky, not in any my-house-burned-down kinda way, but more in a my-tummy-hurts kinda way. Tyler has been a challenge at bedtime the last couple nights, and has earned himself many non-consecutive hours of restriction. I think he must sense when I'm not feeling well, and it throws his security and routine off - thus the bedtime and morning fights.
I got maybe 5 hours sleep in 48 (Mon/Tues), and woke up Wednesday exhausted. Fortunately, I had an appointment at M3 Bodyworks - whatever was locked up got broken loose in the massage, and I came home and collapsed for 4 hours. Still didn't feel up to the trip downtown to Gilda's. And then last night, Tyler was holding James Brown (the hardest-working guinea pig in show business), and the little fuzzball climbed over his shoulder and took a swan dive to the floor. I heard nothing about it until Kayleigh, very concerned, told me that "James isn't moving his hind legs..."
Sure enough, the fall did a number on his legs and lower spine. Poor little guy was dragging his back legs around the cage. Took him to our vet today, and had him examined by an expert on guinea pigs. The bad news is he got some spinal or pelvic trauma. The good news is he's getting pain response in the legs (which were not broken), so chances are his spine wasn't broken, and a lot of times small mammals can recover from such falls and get around reasonably well. Gave us some anti-inflammatory pain meds to give him, and we'll leave him alone for a couple weeks to see how he does. He's otherwise healthy, and only about 3 years old. Still has a good year or two left in him, if this doesn't end up doing him in.
On the way to the vet, I reminded Kayleigh that he might not make it through this injury - not that I wanted her to worry, just that I wanted her to be ready if it did happen. She totally understood, and added that if James died, then Mommy could play with him again. What must it be like to be 8 years old and already have such perspective? Anyway, the jury is still out on James Brown, but we'll keep y'all informed.
Aside from that, there is a mountain of boxes for the recycling tomorrow, due to the stuff for my studio arriving by the truckload. Got the new work computer up and running, with its new video and sound cards, and have begun extracting some of the salvaged data. It's a slow process, especially with media files.
Gotta get a vacuum tomorrow, and get to the storage unit to grab 10 cases of the Red Dwarf RPG for our consolidator - I've been remiss in getting the product out to the fulfillment warehouse, but it's on the way...
I got maybe 5 hours sleep in 48 (Mon/Tues), and woke up Wednesday exhausted. Fortunately, I had an appointment at M3 Bodyworks - whatever was locked up got broken loose in the massage, and I came home and collapsed for 4 hours. Still didn't feel up to the trip downtown to Gilda's. And then last night, Tyler was holding James Brown (the hardest-working guinea pig in show business), and the little fuzzball climbed over his shoulder and took a swan dive to the floor. I heard nothing about it until Kayleigh, very concerned, told me that "James isn't moving his hind legs..."
Sure enough, the fall did a number on his legs and lower spine. Poor little guy was dragging his back legs around the cage. Took him to our vet today, and had him examined by an expert on guinea pigs. The bad news is he got some spinal or pelvic trauma. The good news is he's getting pain response in the legs (which were not broken), so chances are his spine wasn't broken, and a lot of times small mammals can recover from such falls and get around reasonably well. Gave us some anti-inflammatory pain meds to give him, and we'll leave him alone for a couple weeks to see how he does. He's otherwise healthy, and only about 3 years old. Still has a good year or two left in him, if this doesn't end up doing him in.
On the way to the vet, I reminded Kayleigh that he might not make it through this injury - not that I wanted her to worry, just that I wanted her to be ready if it did happen. She totally understood, and added that if James died, then Mommy could play with him again. What must it be like to be 8 years old and already have such perspective? Anyway, the jury is still out on James Brown, but we'll keep y'all informed.
Aside from that, there is a mountain of boxes for the recycling tomorrow, due to the stuff for my studio arriving by the truckload. Got the new work computer up and running, with its new video and sound cards, and have begun extracting some of the salvaged data. It's a slow process, especially with media files.
Gotta get a vacuum tomorrow, and get to the storage unit to grab 10 cases of the Red Dwarf RPG for our consolidator - I've been remiss in getting the product out to the fulfillment warehouse, but it's on the way...
Saturday, March 18, 2006
MACHIIIIINE!
When I went to Ensinada, Mexico, with Randy in 1989 to visit the orphanage where he'd lived and worked for over 2 years, the kids had a cute expression for anything cool. The word "machine", but pronounced with a long, drawn-out eeeee on the second syllable. Combined with an approving nod of the head, it was the total package of affirmation.
So when my new work computer showed up yesterday, I couldn't help but utter, "machiiiiine!"
Because I do a lot of graphics and multimedia, an off-the-rack desktop doesn't really cut the mustard... in fact, there are very few condiments it will cut. So with the insurance advance to cover my business machine losses in the fire, I bought a new media workstation and started to replace elements of my studio. The main machine is a Dell XPS dualcore (where they put two chips on a single processor). While most computers are getting smaller, this guy is unashamed to be a muscle car. It's as tall as my last tower and about 3" wider, and looks like a chrome version of the old SGI workstations we had at Boss - the ones that started with a key ignition.
Sam's brother Doug came out to the rental house today and set up the network. Many trips to Staples later, the new rig is working, the laptop is wireless, and our Vonage phone is set up. The last thing to do is get the kids' machine working in the next room. I have one of the rescued data DVDs dumping to the hard drive as I finish this post.
Got a box back from RestorX today. An old renfaire shirt, a pair of Sam's dress shoes, and a bunch of fabric remnants. None of it stuff that we really need to keep.
Tomorrow I will head over to Brian Chase's studio to learn a sound app and get some of our tracks in progress. Then I'm taking Kayleigh to a friend's birthday party, then meeting with Ron. Hope to get out this week sometime to see V for Vendetta. Trying to stay focused on "stuff that needs doing" and keeping positive. I'll let you know how that works out.
So when my new work computer showed up yesterday, I couldn't help but utter, "machiiiiine!"
Because I do a lot of graphics and multimedia, an off-the-rack desktop doesn't really cut the mustard... in fact, there are very few condiments it will cut. So with the insurance advance to cover my business machine losses in the fire, I bought a new media workstation and started to replace elements of my studio. The main machine is a Dell XPS dualcore (where they put two chips on a single processor). While most computers are getting smaller, this guy is unashamed to be a muscle car. It's as tall as my last tower and about 3" wider, and looks like a chrome version of the old SGI workstations we had at Boss - the ones that started with a key ignition.
Sam's brother Doug came out to the rental house today and set up the network. Many trips to Staples later, the new rig is working, the laptop is wireless, and our Vonage phone is set up. The last thing to do is get the kids' machine working in the next room. I have one of the rescued data DVDs dumping to the hard drive as I finish this post.
Got a box back from RestorX today. An old renfaire shirt, a pair of Sam's dress shoes, and a bunch of fabric remnants. None of it stuff that we really need to keep.
Tomorrow I will head over to Brian Chase's studio to learn a sound app and get some of our tracks in progress. Then I'm taking Kayleigh to a friend's birthday party, then meeting with Ron. Hope to get out this week sometime to see V for Vendetta. Trying to stay focused on "stuff that needs doing" and keeping positive. I'll let you know how that works out.
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
More Tears
Our Gilda's Club contact with Extreme Makeover took me aside and informed me she'd received a response on our submission. They loved our story (which means we evidently passed the pity threshold), but apparently the show's producers don't like doing projects in Washington State due to the unstable weather (hey - we have variety: rain, snow, sun, hail, wind, sometimes all at once!), but asked for my contact info so she could talk to me about submitting to another show. I wonder if Oprah would be interested. ;)
My friend Patrick Goddard works for Rhino Records. He sent me a box of really great CDs (thanks, Pat!). For the past few days, I've been switching between the Doors collection, the New Order collection, and a couple of my own acquisitions (Matisyahu, Morningwood & KT Tunstall) in the car while I drive all over Seattle shuttling children and running my various errands. Today I finally got the desire to pop in a Chameleons compilation CD that survived the fire by virtue of it being in my car. Of course, Tears is probably my favorite track of theirs, and when the acoustic version came on, Kayleigh and I began singing along with it. But when it got to "waiting for the light to turn green/carry me home/to the kindest eyes that I've ever seen", the early part of my relationship with Sam came rushing back and I choked up.
When I talked to Caleb later this evening, he asked a very good question. Did I miss Sam, or did I miss how I was when I was with her. And he wasn't surprised when I said "both". I've said it before on this blog - a big portion of one's grief (especially in relation to a spouse) is more than just missing the person. It's missing the person you once were. It's missing the life you shared together. It's missing the history and the little secrets and jokes to which only the two of you were privy, and that now must reside solely in your memory.
Imagine my surprise when I arrived home to an email from an old Aptos High theater friend, Michelle Welk. Michelle and musician/actor Gary Hagen were a year ahead of me in high school, and had become an item the year before I moved to Palo Alto and met Sam. They were the only two friends from school who'd been together as a couple longer than Sam & me. The last time I'd had any contact with Michelle was in about '93, and Gary in about '96. They didn't know about Sam, they didn't know about my dad, they didn't know about our house. It's weird telling the tale to someone I've not been in communication with in over a decade.
Spoke to Randy tonight. Talking to my big bro always makes me feel better. It's a relationship that now spans 26 years and gives me a great sense of continuity. He's known me literally since I was a kid. I've only known Dave & Adam Beach longer. He was able to dump some rare vinyl to CD, including The Humans Happy Hour LP and their Play EP. The Humans were a talented Santa Cruz band merging new wave and surf music with sophisticated lyrics. Randy took me to see them live at the Catalyst in 1982 when I was 14. I credit that as my first rock show. The frontman, Sterling Storm, is now a successful production designer.
Tyler amazes me. Here's a kid who's gone through the personal hell of losing his mom, grandpa and home, on top of trying to function with ADHD and starting puberty... and what does he post on his blog? His recipe for egg salad. Here I am, angsting it up, and he's sharing something nice with others. I've been really surprised (pleasantly so) at his maturity level of late. Of course, it all came crashing down tonight when he and Kayleigh decided to have a fight at bedtime. That stuff happens from time to time. But overall, I can see him evolving - and I'm encouraged to see the direction in which it's happening. In fact, I'm pretty happy with both of my kids. Yes, this is the same guy who wanted to sell them to visigoths not long ago, but they're both ambulatory, clever as all heck and talented like you wouldn't believe. I shouldn't complain. I absolutely love them to pieces.
I think I've rambled enough for the midweek check-in. Be well, and thanks to everyone for the notes, emails and care packages! :) And Piggy, thanks for the cookies, goo and all.
My friend Patrick Goddard works for Rhino Records. He sent me a box of really great CDs (thanks, Pat!). For the past few days, I've been switching between the Doors collection, the New Order collection, and a couple of my own acquisitions (Matisyahu, Morningwood & KT Tunstall) in the car while I drive all over Seattle shuttling children and running my various errands. Today I finally got the desire to pop in a Chameleons compilation CD that survived the fire by virtue of it being in my car. Of course, Tears is probably my favorite track of theirs, and when the acoustic version came on, Kayleigh and I began singing along with it. But when it got to "waiting for the light to turn green/carry me home/to the kindest eyes that I've ever seen", the early part of my relationship with Sam came rushing back and I choked up.
When I talked to Caleb later this evening, he asked a very good question. Did I miss Sam, or did I miss how I was when I was with her. And he wasn't surprised when I said "both". I've said it before on this blog - a big portion of one's grief (especially in relation to a spouse) is more than just missing the person. It's missing the person you once were. It's missing the life you shared together. It's missing the history and the little secrets and jokes to which only the two of you were privy, and that now must reside solely in your memory.
Imagine my surprise when I arrived home to an email from an old Aptos High theater friend, Michelle Welk. Michelle and musician/actor Gary Hagen were a year ahead of me in high school, and had become an item the year before I moved to Palo Alto and met Sam. They were the only two friends from school who'd been together as a couple longer than Sam & me. The last time I'd had any contact with Michelle was in about '93, and Gary in about '96. They didn't know about Sam, they didn't know about my dad, they didn't know about our house. It's weird telling the tale to someone I've not been in communication with in over a decade.
Spoke to Randy tonight. Talking to my big bro always makes me feel better. It's a relationship that now spans 26 years and gives me a great sense of continuity. He's known me literally since I was a kid. I've only known Dave & Adam Beach longer. He was able to dump some rare vinyl to CD, including The Humans Happy Hour LP and their Play EP. The Humans were a talented Santa Cruz band merging new wave and surf music with sophisticated lyrics. Randy took me to see them live at the Catalyst in 1982 when I was 14. I credit that as my first rock show. The frontman, Sterling Storm, is now a successful production designer.
Tyler amazes me. Here's a kid who's gone through the personal hell of losing his mom, grandpa and home, on top of trying to function with ADHD and starting puberty... and what does he post on his blog? His recipe for egg salad. Here I am, angsting it up, and he's sharing something nice with others. I've been really surprised (pleasantly so) at his maturity level of late. Of course, it all came crashing down tonight when he and Kayleigh decided to have a fight at bedtime. That stuff happens from time to time. But overall, I can see him evolving - and I'm encouraged to see the direction in which it's happening. In fact, I'm pretty happy with both of my kids. Yes, this is the same guy who wanted to sell them to visigoths not long ago, but they're both ambulatory, clever as all heck and talented like you wouldn't believe. I shouldn't complain. I absolutely love them to pieces.
I think I've rambled enough for the midweek check-in. Be well, and thanks to everyone for the notes, emails and care packages! :) And Piggy, thanks for the cookies, goo and all.
Sunday, March 12, 2006
11 Months & Scar Tissue
Woke up at 5AM this morning, and for a moment I wondered why. Then I remembered - 11 months ago Sam died. It's incredible to ponder how radically different my life is now, compared to 11 months ago.
In some ways, the pain has dulled. In others, especially the horror of her last breath, the pain is still fresh. But I do know the passage of time has dulled all sensation somewhat. That makes it possible to keep moving. I'm not emotionally vulnerable anymore. The two people who knew me best in the world are gone, and I'm not anywhere near that level of intimacy with any of my other friends. The last year has been like a prison rape of the soul - and the time spent between each horrific event just adds layer upon layer to the cicatrix growing over the wound.
Every day nothing gets done at the burned house just adds frustration. Between three insurance companies, you can imagine the foot dragging, despite promises to "get this done real quick for you".
Last month was especially dificult, due not only to the house fire, but to four anniversaries: Sam's birthday, Dad's birthday, 10 month marker of Sam's death, 9 month marker of Dad's death. This month is a bit of a reprieve, but April and May will be tough again. I'm sure I'll have more clarity next month when I'm staring down the 1 year marker of Sam's passing. All I want to do is make it through this first year. For whatever reason, whether the hype is internally or externally created, I just have a sense that things will stabilize after the year marker.
In other news...
I should get my new work computer on Monday. Already received the video card from ATI. Thanks for the recommendations, Doug & Randy.
Thanks again to everyone who has been sending care packages of cool stuff. At this point, we're set for all the necessities and really don't have room to store toys and that kind of thing in the rental house. We've also got the food thing figured out.
The kids have been making their beds. Now I know I'm in the Twilight Zone.
Tyler just informed me he has a blog.
Feeling a bit more in-balance overall, with regular trips to the chiropractor and the massage studio. Also have been seeing a local woman for about a week. Schedules are about to get crazy again, so I'm hesitant to make anything too momentous out of it, but the fact that I'm even in a place where I could be open to a more exclusive dating relationship is another big leap forward on the grief continuum. Romance is a totally different beast when you're in your thirties, as opposed to high school. So much more to consider...
My brother (the youngest of the surviving siblings) is about to be the first of the three of us to get his degree and actually graduate college. I did a 2-year animation trade program in college, but that's different. Gavin will actually have his degree and be able to start teaching. I'm VERY proud of my little brother - he's worked his ass of for this.
Off to coffee with Ron. Was gonna try to pick up some furniture from a friend of my Mom's in Bellevue, but I haven't been able to track down DJ and his cargo van.
Blah blah blah...
In some ways, the pain has dulled. In others, especially the horror of her last breath, the pain is still fresh. But I do know the passage of time has dulled all sensation somewhat. That makes it possible to keep moving. I'm not emotionally vulnerable anymore. The two people who knew me best in the world are gone, and I'm not anywhere near that level of intimacy with any of my other friends. The last year has been like a prison rape of the soul - and the time spent between each horrific event just adds layer upon layer to the cicatrix growing over the wound.
Every day nothing gets done at the burned house just adds frustration. Between three insurance companies, you can imagine the foot dragging, despite promises to "get this done real quick for you".
Last month was especially dificult, due not only to the house fire, but to four anniversaries: Sam's birthday, Dad's birthday, 10 month marker of Sam's death, 9 month marker of Dad's death. This month is a bit of a reprieve, but April and May will be tough again. I'm sure I'll have more clarity next month when I'm staring down the 1 year marker of Sam's passing. All I want to do is make it through this first year. For whatever reason, whether the hype is internally or externally created, I just have a sense that things will stabilize after the year marker.
In other news...
I should get my new work computer on Monday. Already received the video card from ATI. Thanks for the recommendations, Doug & Randy.
Thanks again to everyone who has been sending care packages of cool stuff. At this point, we're set for all the necessities and really don't have room to store toys and that kind of thing in the rental house. We've also got the food thing figured out.
The kids have been making their beds. Now I know I'm in the Twilight Zone.
Tyler just informed me he has a blog.
Feeling a bit more in-balance overall, with regular trips to the chiropractor and the massage studio. Also have been seeing a local woman for about a week. Schedules are about to get crazy again, so I'm hesitant to make anything too momentous out of it, but the fact that I'm even in a place where I could be open to a more exclusive dating relationship is another big leap forward on the grief continuum. Romance is a totally different beast when you're in your thirties, as opposed to high school. So much more to consider...
My brother (the youngest of the surviving siblings) is about to be the first of the three of us to get his degree and actually graduate college. I did a 2-year animation trade program in college, but that's different. Gavin will actually have his degree and be able to start teaching. I'm VERY proud of my little brother - he's worked his ass of for this.
Off to coffee with Ron. Was gonna try to pick up some furniture from a friend of my Mom's in Bellevue, but I haven't been able to track down DJ and his cargo van.
Blah blah blah...
Wednesday, March 08, 2006
...And Breathe.
I suppose I should post something since it's been almost a week. Friday was fortunately the last day I had to don the yellow Tychem suit and dig through ash for identifying portions of my old life. Thank heavens - that stuff wears on your soul, and you smell like a barbecue gone wrong besides.
Mad props to Titan Games, who sent a thoughtful box of geekery (including a limited edition D&D Player's Guide for Tyler). Also to ACD Distribution who sent a box of awesome board games and goodies. Thanks to Ken Whitman at RapidPOD for his offer of assistance. Thanks to my buddy Gordon in Oregon, formerly one-half of the experimental band Mozart Air Raid, for his offer to help rebuild my music collection.
I also want to give a special thanks to Dave Alpern, who runs the John Steakly fan site. I've known Dave for about 6 or 7 years (although we have never met f2f). He writes the Balancing Act column for GamerDad. Anyway, Dave knows I'm a fan of John Steakley's 2nd novel, Vampire$ (which is not to be confused with that terrible film "adaptation" John Carpenter made of it). He also knew that my trade paperback copy (as well as 2 other standard novel-sized copies) were consumed by fire. So since he was just at an event with Steakley, he sent me a new trade paperback copy of Vampire$ with a very nice personalized dedication by The Man himself.
We're still receiving help from various church groups, industry organizations, fellow game publishers, schools... it's so heartening to be lifted up by our fellow human beings after the trauma of loss. I know I can't remember everyone to thank all at once, so be patient as I throw in a few here and there as I go. Just know we appreciate your help.
Mad props to Titan Games, who sent a thoughtful box of geekery (including a limited edition D&D Player's Guide for Tyler). Also to ACD Distribution who sent a box of awesome board games and goodies. Thanks to Ken Whitman at RapidPOD for his offer of assistance. Thanks to my buddy Gordon in Oregon, formerly one-half of the experimental band Mozart Air Raid, for his offer to help rebuild my music collection.
I also want to give a special thanks to Dave Alpern, who runs the John Steakly fan site. I've known Dave for about 6 or 7 years (although we have never met f2f). He writes the Balancing Act column for GamerDad. Anyway, Dave knows I'm a fan of John Steakley's 2nd novel, Vampire$ (which is not to be confused with that terrible film "adaptation" John Carpenter made of it). He also knew that my trade paperback copy (as well as 2 other standard novel-sized copies) were consumed by fire. So since he was just at an event with Steakley, he sent me a new trade paperback copy of Vampire$ with a very nice personalized dedication by The Man himself.
We're still receiving help from various church groups, industry organizations, fellow game publishers, schools... it's so heartening to be lifted up by our fellow human beings after the trauma of loss. I know I can't remember everyone to thank all at once, so be patient as I throw in a few here and there as I go. Just know we appreciate your help.
Thursday, March 02, 2006
Ashes, Ashes, We All Fall Down.
Spent the day - all day - sifting through the blackened remains of my home with the cataloguing crew hired by my insurance company. Itemizing losses.
Itemizing losses. Twenty-plus years of memories and generations of family antiques and memorabilia reduced to lines on a sheet with an approximate replacement value and an age for depreciation.
Among the pots and pans, we found a simple utensil from when Sam was a Pampered Chef rep (which she only did long enough to get the discount on the cool gear), which triggered a million memories. Across the fridge, crisp black rectangles that were once photographs of the kids, or of Sam & me.
In the corner of the dining room, I discovered a pile of photos which must've fallen out of a box. Singed around the edges. The ones on the top and bottom were blackened and unrecognizeable. But in opening the pile to the middle, I found the picture of Sam feeding me cake at our wedding reception.
Jesus.
Even though I was kneeling solidly on my right knee and not crouching, I could feel it give way and my vision went misty with tears, like I was swimming in a badly chlorinated pool.
The ladies were understanding and let me take a break.
All in all, we spent a full work day picking through ash, describing what the ash used to be, figuring how much the ash originally cost and how long I'd owned the ash. I came home at 5:30PM, covered in soot and smelling like a strip club before the smoking ban, my nose and throat scratchy with dust and ash, one knee strained and a heart filled with angst and sorrow.
And tomorrow I get to do it all over again.
I would like to mention that the folks in the adventure game industry are some of the most incredibly kind and generous people I have ever met... and not met. Apparently there is a silent auction to be held at the GAMA Trade Show (GTS) this year - to benefit my family. Some folks have offered a number of favors, goodies, services and the like. And Matt Forbeck (who has contributed to several of my favorite RPG titles evar) posted a really unexpected and completely wonderful blog entry about me, my company and my family. As Matt says, we don't even really know each other personally (although we did meet at Gen Con 2003, if I recall correctly). And yet, when there's a man down, everyone rallies. As Rule #1 clearly states: Never split up the party.
Thank you all. You're amazing.
Itemizing losses. Twenty-plus years of memories and generations of family antiques and memorabilia reduced to lines on a sheet with an approximate replacement value and an age for depreciation.
Among the pots and pans, we found a simple utensil from when Sam was a Pampered Chef rep (which she only did long enough to get the discount on the cool gear), which triggered a million memories. Across the fridge, crisp black rectangles that were once photographs of the kids, or of Sam & me.
In the corner of the dining room, I discovered a pile of photos which must've fallen out of a box. Singed around the edges. The ones on the top and bottom were blackened and unrecognizeable. But in opening the pile to the middle, I found the picture of Sam feeding me cake at our wedding reception.
Jesus.
Even though I was kneeling solidly on my right knee and not crouching, I could feel it give way and my vision went misty with tears, like I was swimming in a badly chlorinated pool.
The ladies were understanding and let me take a break.
All in all, we spent a full work day picking through ash, describing what the ash used to be, figuring how much the ash originally cost and how long I'd owned the ash. I came home at 5:30PM, covered in soot and smelling like a strip club before the smoking ban, my nose and throat scratchy with dust and ash, one knee strained and a heart filled with angst and sorrow.
And tomorrow I get to do it all over again.
I would like to mention that the folks in the adventure game industry are some of the most incredibly kind and generous people I have ever met... and not met. Apparently there is a silent auction to be held at the GAMA Trade Show (GTS) this year - to benefit my family. Some folks have offered a number of favors, goodies, services and the like. And Matt Forbeck (who has contributed to several of my favorite RPG titles evar) posted a really unexpected and completely wonderful blog entry about me, my company and my family. As Matt says, we don't even really know each other personally (although we did meet at Gen Con 2003, if I recall correctly). And yet, when there's a man down, everyone rallies. As Rule #1 clearly states: Never split up the party.
Thank you all. You're amazing.
Tuesday, February 28, 2006
There Are No Words.
Yesterday I decided to follow the advice of my chiropractor and get a deep tissue massage. I looked up places in West Seattle and decided on a little studio on California Ave. It's fairly new, but I liked their stated approach. The LMP I got doesn't have a lot of post-school experience, but is one of those natural healers. Like my friend who does acupuncture out of the Maya studio in the Fremont, she has a calming energy about her, that puts one immediately at ease and in a trusting space. I had a nice wakeup call the other morning in the form of my left knee threatening to buckle as I was taking out the garbage - I need to attend to my own oxygen mask before assisting others. As one who instinctively helps others, I need to realize I can't do much good in a weakened state. So now I have my team... family doc, acupuncture (for which I'm woefully overdue), chiropractor and now a massage practitioner. All but the family doctor were my choices, and they all happen to be women. I think when it comes to healing, I respond better to female energy. Interesting, but probably not uncommon.
Drove the whole West Seattle clan out to Shilshole last night for a birthday celebration on board Volant. We had a favorite meal of my dad's: lemon chicken, mashed potatoes, brocolli, caesar salad and olive bread. Music alternated between John Denver and Pavarotti - surreal, yes, but he was that ecclectic. We crowded eight of us around that settee below, chowed down and told stories about my dad (aka Grampa Bear to the kids). Dessert took the form of a lemon sheet cake with this lemon sauce that dad used to tease the kids with, telling them it was made from banana slugs.
Had some trouble with Tyler at bedtime. He's trying that boundary push again, just making sure I'm paying attention. You better believe I am, but I really don't need the added stress of preteen rebellion. Sigh. This too shall pass.
Crawled into bed and had a dream...
I entered a hospital-ish room, but I could tell this was more homey, like a rehab facility or something. And sitting up in bed, smiling and healthy, was Samantha. She had her long dark hair and a nice red tint to her skin. It had been a long time since she hadn't looked gaunt and gray. I was astonished. I sat on the edge of her bed and she reached out and held my hand.
"They're not finding any cancer anymore," she said. "They're going to do a full scan tomorrow, but all the blood work has come back negative. I think it's gone."
I looked at her seriously, caught in the turmoil of being ready to continue my life and yet being faced with my soulmate, my partner of twenty years - back in the flesh. "Honey, you were dead. I held you as you died. I thought I'd never see you again."
Her hazel eyes sparkled with tears. She squeezed my hand earnestly. "I know. I know. And I was, technically. But it was all a lesson I had to learn. This was all something we had to learn."
We were cut off in mid-conversation by a stray cell signal buzzing my laptop speakers as they occasionally do. I awoke. It was 6:15AM. I tried to go back to sleep and continue the conversation, but to no avail. Perhaps we can continue later...
This is the first really clear conversational dream I've had of Sam. And the most clear in terms of setting (with the exception of the scary eyes opening dream, which was entirely too realistic). So much of this past few years (and this last one in particular) has been about being pushed along, out of my comfort zone, to grow and change - even though such growth hurts like hell. I still haven't sorted out what everything means (at least in terms of my own intuition), but I'm working on it.
Back to the gym today - finally...
Drove the whole West Seattle clan out to Shilshole last night for a birthday celebration on board Volant. We had a favorite meal of my dad's: lemon chicken, mashed potatoes, brocolli, caesar salad and olive bread. Music alternated between John Denver and Pavarotti - surreal, yes, but he was that ecclectic. We crowded eight of us around that settee below, chowed down and told stories about my dad (aka Grampa Bear to the kids). Dessert took the form of a lemon sheet cake with this lemon sauce that dad used to tease the kids with, telling them it was made from banana slugs.
Had some trouble with Tyler at bedtime. He's trying that boundary push again, just making sure I'm paying attention. You better believe I am, but I really don't need the added stress of preteen rebellion. Sigh. This too shall pass.
Crawled into bed and had a dream...
I entered a hospital-ish room, but I could tell this was more homey, like a rehab facility or something. And sitting up in bed, smiling and healthy, was Samantha. She had her long dark hair and a nice red tint to her skin. It had been a long time since she hadn't looked gaunt and gray. I was astonished. I sat on the edge of her bed and she reached out and held my hand.
"They're not finding any cancer anymore," she said. "They're going to do a full scan tomorrow, but all the blood work has come back negative. I think it's gone."
I looked at her seriously, caught in the turmoil of being ready to continue my life and yet being faced with my soulmate, my partner of twenty years - back in the flesh. "Honey, you were dead. I held you as you died. I thought I'd never see you again."
Her hazel eyes sparkled with tears. She squeezed my hand earnestly. "I know. I know. And I was, technically. But it was all a lesson I had to learn. This was all something we had to learn."
We were cut off in mid-conversation by a stray cell signal buzzing my laptop speakers as they occasionally do. I awoke. It was 6:15AM. I tried to go back to sleep and continue the conversation, but to no avail. Perhaps we can continue later...
This is the first really clear conversational dream I've had of Sam. And the most clear in terms of setting (with the exception of the scary eyes opening dream, which was entirely too realistic). So much of this past few years (and this last one in particular) has been about being pushed along, out of my comfort zone, to grow and change - even though such growth hurts like hell. I still haven't sorted out what everything means (at least in terms of my own intuition), but I'm working on it.
Back to the gym today - finally...
Monday, February 27, 2006
When I'm 62?
Among my first memories is being a toddler playing outside our house in San Carlos, CA, and watching my dad chase our dog, Muffet, down the street after she'd gotten loose.We did the usual suburban family things. Dinner parties, camping trips, BBQs. I watched Monday Night Football with my dad on a little black & white TV set in his den. We did the YMCA Indian Guides and Cub Scouts together. We went sailing on Lake Vasona in San Jose. When our family built a house in the Aptos hills, he let me help nail the outside stairs and deck planks, and never took me to task for getting it wrong - just showed me the proper way to do it.
My dad ran along behind my first bike, only letting go when I was completely under my own power, letting me fall upon occasion (because that's how we learn), and always there to help me up and try again. He went to my soccer games, my basketball games and the occasional field trip. I used to ride on his shoulders a lot. When he was the age I am now, he was 6'4", like me - it was the best view a boy could want.
I was 11 when my dad left his marriage. The next year was painful, as we rarely saw him. I tried hard to fill that void in my house, becoming my mom's chief of staff as she went to work to support three children on a shoestring budget. It was hard to do without my dad that year, but we talked about it in depth later, and I understand why it would have been hard to be in contact - not to say it's okay, because it most certainly wasn't - but I understand.
When he re-entered my life, it was as if he'd never left. We just picked up where we left off. We got NAUI certified together and went diving off Monterey. He took me to rated R movies, much to my mother's chagrin. When he married the woman who would become our stepmom, my brother and sister and I were all part of the ceremony. When we moved to Palo Alto in 1984, not only was it the right move for a 16 year old boy who was stagnating in Santa Cruz, but it facilitated meeting a certain hazel-eyed actress in drama class.
My dad and I didn't always get along. There were periods of angst and strife and family drama, but when I came into my twenties, we did a lot of sorting it through. We stood united against the generations-old dysfunction and abuse in our family. He owned his own computer consulting company and retired early to follow his dream of living aboard a sailboat and cruising different parts of the world. He was an example of success on the most personal level, an example I've always tried to follow.
He was a loving dad. He was a loving grandfather. He would have turned 62 today.
I miss you, pop. Fair winds.
Saturday, February 25, 2006
Bad Luck?
The Seattle PI article is out. Yeesh. I look like hell. In all, Hector did a good job describing things and checking facts. The only small "oops" (and it is truly small) is that Punky was female.
Interesting that so many have mentioned luck as a factor. What bad luck. They've had a run of bad luck. That would indicate the presence of randomness in all of this, but that doesn't explain the timing of it all. Was Sam's diagnosis just bad luck? Was it mere chance that something funky on the kidney scan made our doctor ask for a full torso CT? And my father's diagnosis just two months after that? Okay, maybe. Was Sam's death just before spring break 2005 just random, so that the kids had time away from school to be close to family? Perhaps. What about my dad dying just 6 weeks later, on Memorial Day, after a VERY rapid 2-week decline? And not directly from the cancer, but of a pulmonary embolism in the hospital? Was that random, or was he supposed to go with Sam for some higher purpose? Were those left behind supposed to learn something from the odd set of circumstances?
People die all the time. I suppose just by playing the odds you could come up with two people related by marriage dying within 1 clendar month of two unrelated, non-hereditary, rare cancers. But I'd bet those odds are astounding.
Okay, so we're reeling from having these two people ripped from our lives, and starting to get back into a semblance of normalcy and life. But wait - Christmas Eve wouldn't be complete without a little sewage in our bedrooms. Okay, sewer mains back up, I understand that. Sometimes people get flooded. On Christmas Eve (when we have winter break to deal with it). Fine. I suppose that could be random by itself too. But to lose the rest of the house in a fire on Valentine's Day (just before the President's Day/midwinter break), in combination with EVERYTHING that's happened in the last year... well, that's just a little bizarre. It smacks of fate or plan or whatever you want to call it. In my opinion (speaking from the eye of the huricane), we're meant to be changed by all of this - my kids and I are being set on a different path. I was beginning to make strides in my own life toward releasing the "couple" part of me, toward making "our" home into "my" home. But whatever forces are at work (be it a collective intelligence, my own higher consciousness or a gentle janitor played by Morgan Freeman - see Bruce Almighty), it is clear to me that we were not meant to remain in that home. That home was something that Samantha and I created with our kids. And that part of our lives is over. We have no choice but to move forward.
Bad luck? I don't think so. I think people make their own luck. And in the midst of everything terrible we are dealing with, there are bits and pieces of really good luck to be found: friends and family who drop everything to run to our aid; a school PTA which organizes food delivery so we don't have to worry about cooking every night; a vacant rental house right across the freakin' street; the firefighters who thought our situation warranted some special attention; a massive campaign by friends around the world to get us on Extreme Makeover...
Whatever lessons are to be learned in all of this are being learned. Outside of those larger lessons, we nurture relationships and try to attract positive things into our lives. Even though my kids have had their world turned upside down, they smile and hug me and know in their hearts that the universe is ultimately in balance and things will work out. Maybe that's pig-headedness, or maybe it's faith in an ordered universe. Regardless, I think it goes beyond a roll of the dice on some cosmic scale.
We are where we are for a reason, and are becoming the people we need to become. Luck... mmm, yeah, not so much.
Interesting that so many have mentioned luck as a factor. What bad luck. They've had a run of bad luck. That would indicate the presence of randomness in all of this, but that doesn't explain the timing of it all. Was Sam's diagnosis just bad luck? Was it mere chance that something funky on the kidney scan made our doctor ask for a full torso CT? And my father's diagnosis just two months after that? Okay, maybe. Was Sam's death just before spring break 2005 just random, so that the kids had time away from school to be close to family? Perhaps. What about my dad dying just 6 weeks later, on Memorial Day, after a VERY rapid 2-week decline? And not directly from the cancer, but of a pulmonary embolism in the hospital? Was that random, or was he supposed to go with Sam for some higher purpose? Were those left behind supposed to learn something from the odd set of circumstances?
People die all the time. I suppose just by playing the odds you could come up with two people related by marriage dying within 1 clendar month of two unrelated, non-hereditary, rare cancers. But I'd bet those odds are astounding.
Okay, so we're reeling from having these two people ripped from our lives, and starting to get back into a semblance of normalcy and life. But wait - Christmas Eve wouldn't be complete without a little sewage in our bedrooms. Okay, sewer mains back up, I understand that. Sometimes people get flooded. On Christmas Eve (when we have winter break to deal with it). Fine. I suppose that could be random by itself too. But to lose the rest of the house in a fire on Valentine's Day (just before the President's Day/midwinter break), in combination with EVERYTHING that's happened in the last year... well, that's just a little bizarre. It smacks of fate or plan or whatever you want to call it. In my opinion (speaking from the eye of the huricane), we're meant to be changed by all of this - my kids and I are being set on a different path. I was beginning to make strides in my own life toward releasing the "couple" part of me, toward making "our" home into "my" home. But whatever forces are at work (be it a collective intelligence, my own higher consciousness or a gentle janitor played by Morgan Freeman - see Bruce Almighty), it is clear to me that we were not meant to remain in that home. That home was something that Samantha and I created with our kids. And that part of our lives is over. We have no choice but to move forward.
Bad luck? I don't think so. I think people make their own luck. And in the midst of everything terrible we are dealing with, there are bits and pieces of really good luck to be found: friends and family who drop everything to run to our aid; a school PTA which organizes food delivery so we don't have to worry about cooking every night; a vacant rental house right across the freakin' street; the firefighters who thought our situation warranted some special attention; a massive campaign by friends around the world to get us on Extreme Makeover...
Whatever lessons are to be learned in all of this are being learned. Outside of those larger lessons, we nurture relationships and try to attract positive things into our lives. Even though my kids have had their world turned upside down, they smile and hug me and know in their hearts that the universe is ultimately in balance and things will work out. Maybe that's pig-headedness, or maybe it's faith in an ordered universe. Regardless, I think it goes beyond a roll of the dice on some cosmic scale.
We are where we are for a reason, and are becoming the people we need to become. Luck... mmm, yeah, not so much.
Friday, February 24, 2006
Open
So the Youngstown Cultural Arts Center opened to the public tonight. Twelfth Night Productions set up in one of the exhibition rooms and ran the Bye Bye Birdie DVD on a video projector. Seattle Poetry Slam fielded some really amazing poets in the movement room, and the Pandemonium Players did a couple numbers from the musical Working.
Representative Jim McDermott was there tonight. Former Seattle mayor Norm Rice and family were in attendance on Wednesday night when I made the booth dedication to Sam. Mary Springer delivered a really beautiful introduction to Sam, and turned things over to me. The name plates are not the typical brass or plastic strips with a name on them, but rather large pieces of slate from the former school's own vintage blackboards, etched with the name of the donor or contributor. Sam was on a DNDA subcommittee, and really contributed more to the whole process than I ever imagined.
My video camera and stuff came on Thursday. As you might recall, I'd ordered the stuff the day before the fire, and because it had to be shipped out from NY, it was not a fire casualty. I cracked the manual today and filled out the product reg stuff. Can't wait to try it out.
It was good to see friends and note the very packed facility. But I'm all done with sensory overload now - took my melatonin and I'm gonna hit the sack. For those of you who have seen The Lost Skeleton of Cadavra, "I SLEEP NOW."
P.S. My brother and SIL rock. Thanks G&M. For all your help.
Representative Jim McDermott was there tonight. Former Seattle mayor Norm Rice and family were in attendance on Wednesday night when I made the booth dedication to Sam. Mary Springer delivered a really beautiful introduction to Sam, and turned things over to me. The name plates are not the typical brass or plastic strips with a name on them, but rather large pieces of slate from the former school's own vintage blackboards, etched with the name of the donor or contributor. Sam was on a DNDA subcommittee, and really contributed more to the whole process than I ever imagined.
My video camera and stuff came on Thursday. As you might recall, I'd ordered the stuff the day before the fire, and because it had to be shipped out from NY, it was not a fire casualty. I cracked the manual today and filled out the product reg stuff. Can't wait to try it out.
It was good to see friends and note the very packed facility. But I'm all done with sensory overload now - took my melatonin and I'm gonna hit the sack. For those of you who have seen The Lost Skeleton of Cadavra, "I SLEEP NOW."
P.S. My brother and SIL rock. Thanks G&M. For all your help.
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
Dedication
We got a house full of rental furniture today. Cable was hooked up here at the rental so I am now reconnected to the digital world. Hi.
Two of the three adjusters I have working on my claim through Allstate came out to the house to walk around, take pictures and poke and prod. I'm sick of the smell of wood smoke, soot and burned plastic.
There is obviously a lot going on right now and will be for some time, but I wanted to mention a few positive things that are keeping me going...
I hope I don’t sound trite when I say that theatre was in Sam’s blood. We met in a high school drama class, later discovering we’d both worked tech on the same production of Romeo & Juliet at the Palo Alto Children’s Theater two years previous. And although we were both film majors in college and dabbled in music, we never wandered far from the stage.
Two of the three adjusters I have working on my claim through Allstate came out to the house to walk around, take pictures and poke and prod. I'm sick of the smell of wood smoke, soot and burned plastic.
There is obviously a lot going on right now and will be for some time, but I wanted to mention a few positive things that are keeping me going...
- RestorX says it looks like they will be able to salvage some of the data on the hard drives they yanked from the office computers and laptop. Holding breath.
- RestorX says my Ovation guitar (the 22nd birthday gift from Sam) was in a hard shell case and is being sent to a stringed instrument shop to be detailed, but it seems to have survived okay.
- We have beds to sleep on.
- I am still out of pocket for my replacement computer, printer and dress suit (which I purchased for Jordan's wedding 2 weeks ago and the dedication for Sam tonight, and which was hanging by the front door and vaporized in the fire), but at least I have them, and can make the presentation tonight.
- A reporter from the Seattle PI called and talked to me this afternoon, so there is going to be more press. This part always makes me uncomfortable - I'm no stranger to hype for creative endeavors, but this is not exactly how anyone wants to become a celebrity.
- Tomorrow, the Seattle Fire Department is presenting the kids and me with a Fred Meyer gift certificate (more clothes for the kids - school starts back up next week). The reporter will be there, and there will be a photo op.
- My buddy David Choi came down to the house on Sunday and shot a walkthrough for the Extreme Makeover folks.
- David Beach, my oldest friend on the planet with whom I'm still in contact, wrote perhaps the most beautiful tribute to me on his blog. Thanks Dave. It makes a huge difference in my psychological outlook.
I hope I don’t sound trite when I say that theatre was in Sam’s blood. We met in a high school drama class, later discovering we’d both worked tech on the same production of Romeo & Juliet at the Palo Alto Children’s Theater two years previous. And although we were both film majors in college and dabbled in music, we never wandered far from the stage.
In the twenty-plus years we shared, Samantha honed her craft, whether on the stage, backstage or in the booth. In productions at the Haymarket Theatre, The New Varsity, Palo Alto Children’s Theater, Foothill College, San Francisco State, LACT, ArtsWest, Theater Schmeater, and with Wingspread and Twelfth Night, she proved to be a tireless talent, a driving organizational force and a consummate professional.
Samantha was drawn to the Twelfth Night mission of building community through the arts. It was this sense of community that enticed us to settle in West Seattle, to become merchants, to raise a family. It is this community which sustained us through Sam’s cancer diagnosis in 2002, her three-year fight against the disease, and her passing last year, just one month before my father lost his own battle with cancer. It is this community which reaches out even now, as my children and I meet continued challenges and create new lives for ourselves.
Although exhausted from constant chemotherapy and radiation treatments, Samantha was able to tread the boards one final time, as Mrs. Peterson in the Twelfth Night production of Bye Bye Birdie, sharing the stage with her husband and daughter – a girl of eight who is already charting a future in the arts. In productions to come, Kayleigh will be able to see her mother’s name on this booth, and be reminded not only of her mother’s talent, but her contribution to the Seattle theatre community, including her expertise in the design of the control booth at this facility.
I am honored to continue Samantha’s legacy of involvement with the Seattle arts community, and to dedicate this control booth in honor of my Juliet, Samantha Downing.
Monday, February 20, 2006
Home Again?
Okay, we got the rental, as I think I mentioned previously. Our landlady is great - she and her family lived in the home and were our neighbors for about 5 years before Sam was sick. Her husband (who is usually her partner in the whole rental business) is serving in Iraq, so it's nice that she won't have terribly high maintenance tenants in there for a few months. The home is small, but it's clean and much better than either the motel or the air mattresses on the floor in our house.
Sunday David Choi came down with his DV cam and shot the walkthrough and interviews for the Extreme Makeover: Home Edition submission. There was actually a moment where I found a melted picture frame containing a portrait of my dad just weeks before his death, and later a Polaroid of Kayleigh as a toddler. If we get on the show and you see any misty eyed looks from me in the walkthrough, it's real.
I got my girls from Gilda's club to back me up today. Sharon (who lost her brother to stomach cancer the same weekend Sam died) got on the phone and sorted out my utilities, phone etc. Gavin already handled the cable - we'll have broadband sometime Wednesday. I filed a claim on my primary home insurance so I have an advocate who can get me reimbursed and go after the responsible parties instead of me doing the legwork and the waiting. At the adjuster's behest, Jeanne (a widower from my Gilda's bereavement group) and I went down to CORT furniture rentals and ordered a house full of furniture for the 6 months we'll be living across the street from our former house.
Meanwhile, Pathfinder School has organized parents into a daily food brigade. It's amazing how just wrestling verbally with bureaucrats over the phone all day can exhaust you to the point of forgetting to cook dinner.
Bottom line, we're being taken care of, by the community and our friends and family. The utility companies are treating us well and it looks like we'll have furniture and a new work machine for me by the end of the week. People are writing to ABC on our behalf to get us on Extreme Makeover. Still others are putting money in my PayPal account to cover the inevitable shortfalls of the insurance companies. So far, my insurance has said all the right things - but until I am depositing that final settlement into my bank account, I'm staying on my guard. It's tiring, but I fell like I've been savaged by rabid mutant crocodiles right about now, and my defenses are on full alert.
Again, my thanks to everyone for everything you've done and are now doing. And we don't currently need any more milk. :)
OK - more sleep and then back to the pile of rubble to identify the pieces of our lives tomorrow. And Wednesday I get to make the lighting booth dedication to Sam.
Sunday David Choi came down with his DV cam and shot the walkthrough and interviews for the Extreme Makeover: Home Edition submission. There was actually a moment where I found a melted picture frame containing a portrait of my dad just weeks before his death, and later a Polaroid of Kayleigh as a toddler. If we get on the show and you see any misty eyed looks from me in the walkthrough, it's real.
I got my girls from Gilda's club to back me up today. Sharon (who lost her brother to stomach cancer the same weekend Sam died) got on the phone and sorted out my utilities, phone etc. Gavin already handled the cable - we'll have broadband sometime Wednesday. I filed a claim on my primary home insurance so I have an advocate who can get me reimbursed and go after the responsible parties instead of me doing the legwork and the waiting. At the adjuster's behest, Jeanne (a widower from my Gilda's bereavement group) and I went down to CORT furniture rentals and ordered a house full of furniture for the 6 months we'll be living across the street from our former house.
Meanwhile, Pathfinder School has organized parents into a daily food brigade. It's amazing how just wrestling verbally with bureaucrats over the phone all day can exhaust you to the point of forgetting to cook dinner.
Bottom line, we're being taken care of, by the community and our friends and family. The utility companies are treating us well and it looks like we'll have furniture and a new work machine for me by the end of the week. People are writing to ABC on our behalf to get us on Extreme Makeover. Still others are putting money in my PayPal account to cover the inevitable shortfalls of the insurance companies. So far, my insurance has said all the right things - but until I am depositing that final settlement into my bank account, I'm staying on my guard. It's tiring, but I fell like I've been savaged by rabid mutant crocodiles right about now, and my defenses are on full alert.
Again, my thanks to everyone for everything you've done and are now doing. And we don't currently need any more milk. :)
OK - more sleep and then back to the pile of rubble to identify the pieces of our lives tomorrow. And Wednesday I get to make the lighting booth dedication to Sam.
Saturday, February 18, 2006
Just a Quick Update
Not feeling so good today... the shock has worn off and now reality has set in. Had a couple too many at the pub last night too. Won't be doing that again. The kids went to overnights at friends' houses and I spent the last night in the motel by myself. This morning I hauled my hungover ass to the new place - our former neighbor across the street still owns the house in question and uses it as a rental, and it had just become available. RestorX stepped up to bat and got us in on a 6-month lease.
This place is smaller, but it's clean and it's right across the street from my house. The kids can go to their same bus stop and I can oversee the reconstruction, collect my mail and try to pick up my business again.
I will just make this observation: the insurance companies are being slow behemoths and balking at reimbursement at every turn; in contrast, RestorX is being pretty darn stand-up so far, taking the initiative to make sure we're covered for stuff quickly. I will reserve the right to yank that praise if and when it ceases to be true, but so far they've been pretty good.
We had a bunch of friends and family converge to help move what little we have into the new space, and to acquire what we needed. Members of my Gilda's group came through with legwork and a few amenities (like a TV set and DVD player, etc).
And let me just give a shout out to all the folks on Widownet and YWBB who have crowded my email inbox with PayPal donations. I'm floored. Seriously stunned at the overwhelming show of support. I didn't even ask, yet here it is. You people are seriously the best. I wish I had the time and energy to reply to each person right now... eventually I will, but I'm just worn to the bone right now.
Thank you everyone for your support and prayers. I'll update when I can.
This place is smaller, but it's clean and it's right across the street from my house. The kids can go to their same bus stop and I can oversee the reconstruction, collect my mail and try to pick up my business again.
I will just make this observation: the insurance companies are being slow behemoths and balking at reimbursement at every turn; in contrast, RestorX is being pretty darn stand-up so far, taking the initiative to make sure we're covered for stuff quickly. I will reserve the right to yank that praise if and when it ceases to be true, but so far they've been pretty good.
We had a bunch of friends and family converge to help move what little we have into the new space, and to acquire what we needed. Members of my Gilda's group came through with legwork and a few amenities (like a TV set and DVD player, etc).
And let me just give a shout out to all the folks on Widownet and YWBB who have crowded my email inbox with PayPal donations. I'm floored. Seriously stunned at the overwhelming show of support. I didn't even ask, yet here it is. You people are seriously the best. I wish I had the time and energy to reply to each person right now... eventually I will, but I'm just worn to the bone right now.
Thank you everyone for your support and prayers. I'll update when I can.
Thursday, February 16, 2006
WHAT.
Okay, whoever up there has been trying to get my attention, I'M LISTENING!
On Tuesday afternoon, the subcontractors who had been hired by RestorX to decontaminate and clean my furnace (as the last part of the sewage flood cleanup before reconstruction could begin) accidentally ignited a piece of foam that was used in the cleanup process within the ductwork. When the exchange kicked in, it turned my oil furnace and the ducts into a giant blowtorch. I grabbed my daughter's guinea pig cage (with James Brown inside), let Wiley out the front and left the back open for Punky. I called 911 as the furnace guys tried their best to stop the flames. But the thick black smoke was too much, and I sat on the front lawn and stared in wonder as my house burned.
The house that Sam and I bought as a young couple with a toddler, back when I was working as a concept artist in the videogame industry. Our first home. The only home Tyler can remember. The only home Kayleigh has ever known. The home Sam died in.
The kids were at school, so they had to be told. Why, in the name of an ordered universe, must my children have to withstand yet ANOTHER horror? I don't care about being kicked around - I've been a rock all my life. But leave my kids alone, damnit.
We'd just been replacing some of the stuff we'd lost in the flood. Now we have to replace the replacements.
All the stuff we'd saved the night of the flood had been stacked upstairs. Poof.
The new TV, the new leather couches that were my attempt to create a stable home out of what chaos my life had become in the last year. We enjoyed them for 5 days. All the new studio equipment, the work computers (jury is out on salvaging hard drives - the laptop drive may be saved, thank you Dell). Photo albums, CD & DVD archives. Our film collection, our music collection, our original music master tapes and digital archives. Our business - from tax records to content. 1 of a kind artwork by friends and by me. The huge forest painting I did for Sam's 26th birthday. The Ovation guitar she gave me for my 22nd. 20 years of our life together, and family history dating back generations.
Just stuff, sure. But HISTORY. It ain't the Library of Alexandria, but it may as well be to me, to my kids.
The contractor and fire inspectors agreed - it's back to bare external studs and rebuild from scratch. At least 5 months. The house across the street is a rental and the insurance companies are trying to get us in there on a 6 month lease. It would be the ideal annex for the rebuild operation.
The wagons are again being circled, and the community is pulling together. How sick I am of having to be the object and beneficiary of that community once again. Not that I'm ungrateful - I am blessed beyond imagination to have an incredible network of friends, family and community (both local and international). I just don't want to NEED help again. I've been needy enough this past year. Still, when this stuff gets put on you, how else can you possibly stand up without the help of others? The lyric from Nada Surf's "Do it Again" say it perfectly:
Maybe this weight was a gift
Like I had to see what I could lift
Honestly, this is shock talking. I'm not as rational on the inside. The inside is crouched screaming maniacally inside an old steamer trunk. I know the folks who read this blog care for my family and for me. At this point our basic needs are being addressed, but if someone reading this wants to help in some way, they should probably communicate with my brother, since my access will be spotty until further notice.
If any of you guys have an "in" with admin, can you please find out when they expect to send the locusts?
I'M KIDDING. DO NOT SEND LOCUSTS.
OK... back to racking up my cell minutes sorting out my life from this moment forward. Take care - I hope to post again soon...
More pics here. Thanks Gavin. BTW, the dead gray cat is Punky. She used to be white.
On Tuesday afternoon, the subcontractors who had been hired by RestorX to decontaminate and clean my furnace (as the last part of the sewage flood cleanup before reconstruction could begin) accidentally ignited a piece of foam that was used in the cleanup process within the ductwork. When the exchange kicked in, it turned my oil furnace and the ducts into a giant blowtorch. I grabbed my daughter's guinea pig cage (with James Brown inside), let Wiley out the front and left the back open for Punky. I called 911 as the furnace guys tried their best to stop the flames. But the thick black smoke was too much, and I sat on the front lawn and stared in wonder as my house burned.
The house that Sam and I bought as a young couple with a toddler, back when I was working as a concept artist in the videogame industry. Our first home. The only home Tyler can remember. The only home Kayleigh has ever known. The home Sam died in.The kids were at school, so they had to be told. Why, in the name of an ordered universe, must my children have to withstand yet ANOTHER horror? I don't care about being kicked around - I've been a rock all my life. But leave my kids alone, damnit.
We'd just been replacing some of the stuff we'd lost in the flood. Now we have to replace the replacements.
All the stuff we'd saved the night of the flood had been stacked upstairs. Poof.
The new TV, the new leather couches that were my attempt to create a stable home out of what chaos my life had become in the last year. We enjoyed them for 5 days. All the new studio equipment, the work computers (jury is out on salvaging hard drives - the laptop drive may be saved, thank you Dell). Photo albums, CD & DVD archives. Our film collection, our music collection, our original music master tapes and digital archives. Our business - from tax records to content. 1 of a kind artwork by friends and by me. The huge forest painting I did for Sam's 26th birthday. The Ovation guitar she gave me for my 22nd. 20 years of our life together, and family history dating back generations.
Just stuff, sure. But HISTORY. It ain't the Library of Alexandria, but it may as well be to me, to my kids.
The contractor and fire inspectors agreed - it's back to bare external studs and rebuild from scratch. At least 5 months. The house across the street is a rental and the insurance companies are trying to get us in there on a 6 month lease. It would be the ideal annex for the rebuild operation.
The wagons are again being circled, and the community is pulling together. How sick I am of having to be the object and beneficiary of that community once again. Not that I'm ungrateful - I am blessed beyond imagination to have an incredible network of friends, family and community (both local and international). I just don't want to NEED help again. I've been needy enough this past year. Still, when this stuff gets put on you, how else can you possibly stand up without the help of others? The lyric from Nada Surf's "Do it Again" say it perfectly:
Maybe this weight was a gift
Like I had to see what I could lift
Honestly, this is shock talking. I'm not as rational on the inside. The inside is crouched screaming maniacally inside an old steamer trunk. I know the folks who read this blog care for my family and for me. At this point our basic needs are being addressed, but if someone reading this wants to help in some way, they should probably communicate with my brother, since my access will be spotty until further notice.
If any of you guys have an "in" with admin, can you please find out when they expect to send the locusts?
I'M KIDDING. DO NOT SEND LOCUSTS.
OK... back to racking up my cell minutes sorting out my life from this moment forward. Take care - I hope to post again soon...
More pics here. Thanks Gavin. BTW, the dead gray cat is Punky. She used to be white.
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
Tuesday AM Check-in
Yesterday, the head of the company (meaning me) ordered the DV camcorder that will be the ceterpiece of the studio. I also got the green light from the city to start the reconstruction - so as soon as I hung up the phone, I was back on it, calling the contractor. The ball starts rolling today.
Yesterday was so good, I didn't even care that the court in North Bend, OR decided to uphold my alleged speeding ticket from back over Thanksgiving. Ehhhh. So what? I'm finally on the road to getting my house back! Many smileys.
Also watched Hurlyburly after the kids went to bed, which I will review on Manic Lobster later.
Today is crazy busy. Because of the cool stuff happening, I totally spaced on getting Tyler's prescription refilled. It will be a late-to-school day, as we must wait for the pharmacy to open and then wait for the prescription to be filled. But that's also OK, because Kayleigh needs to bring some Sprite to her in-class Valentine party, and we don't keep soda pop in the house. So, to RiteAid we go, and then home for me to rehearse a project with Conor, a project which will be shot with the new camera. Sorry, couldn't resist putting it in there a second time.
That means the gym will have to wait until later this afternoon, but then maybe Caleb can join me. Working out is better with a partner to keep your head in the game.
Yesterday was so good, I didn't even care that the court in North Bend, OR decided to uphold my alleged speeding ticket from back over Thanksgiving. Ehhhh. So what? I'm finally on the road to getting my house back! Many smileys.
Also watched Hurlyburly after the kids went to bed, which I will review on Manic Lobster later.
Today is crazy busy. Because of the cool stuff happening, I totally spaced on getting Tyler's prescription refilled. It will be a late-to-school day, as we must wait for the pharmacy to open and then wait for the prescription to be filled. But that's also OK, because Kayleigh needs to bring some Sprite to her in-class Valentine party, and we don't keep soda pop in the house. So, to RiteAid we go, and then home for me to rehearse a project with Conor, a project which will be shot with the new camera. Sorry, couldn't resist putting it in there a second time.
That means the gym will have to wait until later this afternoon, but then maybe Caleb can join me. Working out is better with a partner to keep your head in the game.
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