Summer Fog

I've been in a five day fog. Things are so surreal to me right now, I'm afraid there's something I'm not seeing. I'm hoping it will make more sense if I write it down.

I have more friends than anyone I know. Truly. I say that with no arrogance whatsoever, just gratitude. I'm an incredibly lucky girl to have the number of deep and true friendships that I do. I consider each of them an incredible blessing. I have a group of friends I jokingly call 'the cult,' partly because these women can never leave me. :) We're very tight, very close to each other's families. There are four of us, and we are committed for life. The other three have been a support to me in ways I can't describe and I hope I have done the same for them. I could go on and on about them, but that is not the point of this post.

Separately I have a friend named Rochelle. She has been my best friend for over 10 years and I have never known friendship like hers. She knows everything about me and loves me unconditionally. She knows all my junk - everything I've ever done that makes me cry in shame to think about, the good, bad and ugly - and she never judges me, just loves me. For reasons that are too sad and complicated to explain here, we lost touch in January after 10 years. It is one of the saddest losses I have ever experienced, and I miss her terribly. There have been times in my life when she's been my lifeline and she's the closest thing to a soul mate I've ever known.

One of my friends in 'the cult' has a son named Joey who is 20 years old. I don't know what it is to have a son, but if I did it would surely feel like my love for Joey. Since he was young he and I have had a bond that is hard to describe, but for which we are all grateful, especially me and his mom. When important issues come up in Joey's life, my friend Pam will call me and ask me to speak to him, because I'm an adult whose opinion he respects enough to consider. The years have been filled with great conversations with this incredible kid. He always wanted my opinions on decisions he needed to make, and he wanted to hear about my own experiences and how I handled them. Most recently, Joey wanted to move to L.A. to pursue an acting career. He's been successful as an actor. If I mentioned some movies and commercials he's been in, you would say, "Oh yeah! I know that kid." His mother heard about him dropping out of college and immediately got on the phone with me asking me to talk some sense into him. Joey and I talked for hours and as much as I hate to admit it, by the time we were through, I realized that this was a dream he needed to pursue, and I needed to tell his mom what I thought. So off he went to L.A. Well, since he's been there, he's done everything except pursue that dream. He's messed up the opportunity completely, and I got numerous calls from Pam telling me he was now taking drugs and spiraling downward. She needed me to call and kick his ass and I was on it.

I called Joey on Monday and didn't get him. In fact, I didn't get him on the phone until Thursday. I was coordinating my friends wedding and I could not flake on her, so I told him when all the wedding responsibilities were over, we needed to talk, and we made a commitment to talk on Sunday. He thanked me for calling, said he couldn't wait to talk to me and that he would call Sunday by noon. He never called. I called him, no answer. At 5 PM, I got a call from Pam and she was driving south from L.A., following an ambulance that Joey was being transported in, and she wanted me to meet them at the hospital. At 4:00 that morning Joey, drunk and high, wandered out of his friend's backyard in Topanga Canyon. He wasn't paying attention, fell 30 feet down an almost vertical hill, tumbling end over end with such force that his shirt got ripped off of his body. His momentum was stopped when his face smashed up against a tree. He didn't stop completely, however, and fell over the side of a cliff into a ravine below. A couple of hours later, unable to feel his legs, he got up enough strength to reach his cell phone, called his friends at the party who called 911. After several hours, they were finally able to get him out of the ravine and to the hospital. When I got to the hospital, I went to the trauma unit where I learned the extent of Joey's injuries. He has a broken nose, and will need reconstructive surgery on his face. He shattered his ankle on his right leg and will need surgery to reconstruct his ankle. He broke his left foot in three places, and sprained his wrist. But by far the worst injury is to one of his lumbar vertebrae. It completely shattered, called a burst fracture. I saw the x-rays and the vertebrae was in at least a hundred little pieces, some of which were embedded in his spinal column, compressing the nerves there. One piece tore the lining that covers his spinal cord. Joey should have died in that ravine, but he didn't. He should never walk again, but he will. After two surgeries to repair the vertebrae, the doctors have implanted a titanium cage in place of the shattered vertebrae, and they successfully removed all of the bone fragments from his spinal column, without causing major trauma to the nerves. They were also able to repair the torn tissue covering his spinal cord. It is an absolute miracle. The second surgery was this morning and was a success, as was the first. It's hard to gauge his mobility in his feet because of the injuries to his foot and ankle, but he has feeling in both.

As I was leaving the hospital today, I ran into my friend Rochelle's younger sister, who strangely didn't seem at all surprised to see me - that is until I asked what she was doing there. She assumed we were there for the same reason - to see Rochelle. My heart absolutely dropped. I was terrified that something had happened to this beautiful and priceless friend of mine. Whatever had happened six months ago to separate us no longer mattered. Last night she had a seizure and lost consciousness while standing in her kitchen. There was no one there to catch her and she fell flat on her face on her kitchen floor, splitting her forehead and breaking her nose. She had surgery this morning and thankfully, will recover fully. Since we haven't spoken for six months, and I had no idea how she would receive me walking into her hospital room, I nervously followed her sister down the hall. At first she was too groggy to respond to me, then when she did all she asked was how I knew she was there. She was disoriented and didn't really understand much of what I was saying, but at least she knew I was there. I stayed for several hours, knowing that I was given this chance to restore our friendship, one that leaves an ache in my heart to this day because of the way it ended six months ago. I knew I couldn't let her go again. Back then she was swimming in self-destruction and refusing the help she needed to pull herself out of it, including the help I was offering. Instead she buried herself in denial, feeling victimized by others. She thought I abandoned her in her time of greatest need, after loving me unconditionally. Six months ago, we could not see eye to eye, and there is a part of me that feels I let her down. I've spent six months mourning a friendship that I thought was irreparably damaged.

Between these two recent events, and Lisa losing her son a couple of weeks ago, I'm no longer sure of anything anymore. I feel lost, and that I'm floundering in the uncertainty that is surrounding those I love; surrounding all of us. I'm having to sit back and watch some of those most dear to me suffer incredible pain, life-altering tragedies and, in Lisa's case, insurmountable loss. My boss was nice enough to let me work from the hospital and not worry about coming into my office or going out in the field. I've been at the hospital pretty much 24/7 since Sunday. So down the halls I walk, between Rochelle's room and ICU where Joey sleeps, laptop in hand, the picture of professionalism and confidence. Confidence has always been something I can fake very well. But right now I'm a fraud. My confidence has not just been shaken, but the chair has been pulled out from underneath it. If I took the time to lean against one of those walls, I would surely slide down it in a heap of tears and confusion.

I don't know. I have no answers. I'm in a fog.

As I was saying goodbye to Rochelle today, she was half asleep. I took her hand, leaned over and told her I love her. And she whispered back, "I love you too. As much as I ever have."

To see the blessing in all of this means to thank God that after months of rehab, Joey will walk again. Rochelle will heal. And I have my best friend back.

Good Times...

I've been thinking that I've really had so little to blog about lately and so I haven't taken the time to sit down and write. As I was thinking today, however, I realized that I've had so many cool things happen over the last week, that I'll just throw those out and hopefully, you guys will enjoy hearing about them.

~ First and Foremost...Yup! See those purple flowers up there? Just arrived today from my sweet friend John, the one I absolutely don't deserve. No reason, just to make me smile - and they sure did.

~ On Sunday of last week, I got to pick up my daughters from the airport after they had been gone for about a week. It was a good break for a few days, especially after having my entire family at my house the previous week, but then I just really missed them. Picking them up was a treat! My friend Sara went with me and they just cracked me up from the minute I walked into the airport. As we're driving home, my 11 year old says from the backseat, "Guess what?! We sat next to the nicest lady on the plane! She gave us gum!!" And then, totally deadpan says, "Only she poured it out of an envelope and now I can't feel my tongue." She is hysterical, and her comic timing is perfect!

~ On Tuesday night, my friend Chera and I went to a wine tasting at a local wine bar. We do this occasionally, but it wasn't our borderline alcoholic tendencies that got us there that night - it was our cheap asses. They were giving away a free insulated double wine bag with bottle opener to the first 20 customers. Needless to say, we were on it!

~ Last night, my girls were at their dad's house so Chera came over for some martinis, and I whipped up some chicken Caesar salads. We spent the entire night sitting on my kitchen counter while discussing a book that Work in Progress turned me onto called The Wisdom of a Starry Night. It is the coolest book with a beautiful work of art on one page and a thought provoking question on the other, such as "Who is in your inner circle?," and "When do you feel at peace?" I absolutely LOVE this book (thank you WIP) and it made a great night for Chera and I last night as we went through it answering the questions to each other.

~ And last, but certainly not least...I had one of the greatest experiences of my recent past just a couple of nights ago. As some of you know, I'm approaching a milestone birthday. To paraphrase Carrie Bradshaw, I'm getting ready to check the next box. Turning the big 4-0, and not adjusting very well to my impending old age. Knowing that makes this story all the more sweet. While out a couple of weeks ago, I met a very young man who wanted to take me out sometime. Now I have admitted that I do have a thing for younger men (a sad reminder), but it's not like it's really ever going to work out with an enormous age difference. But it was flattering and I really thought why the hell not go for one drink? So I met this young man, whose name is Brian, at a restaurant in town with a patio. As we were walking outside to the patio, the owner stopped us to let us know that they were only open for drinks, and then asked Brian for his ID. I continued to get settled in my seat and the conversation continued like this:

Owner: I'm going to have to see your ID, too.
Steph: Really?
Owner: Oh yeah. I have a daughter who's older than you.
Steph: Reeaalllly?
Owner (while he looks at my ID): Whoa. I didn't realize you were so old.
Steph: No problem! I appreciate you asking for it!

Meanwhile, at the next table, is a family eating dinner. After overhearing the conversation, the father said, "Okay, now I have to ask...because you don't look like you could be even be approaching 30! I need to know..."
To which I respond, "Thanks!! You're my new best friend. I LOVE you!!!" And he continues, "No, there's no way you're even near 30!" At which time he turns to his wife and say, "I'm sorry, honey, I have to ask her (looks at me)...how old are you?" I respond with, "I'm about an hour and a half away from turning 40." Both the man and his wife said, "WHAT?! NO WAY!" And of course, I am eating this up. Every single word of it! :) I said, "Let's do this again next week...same time, same place, okay? Here let me buy a drink for my new best friends!" It was hysterical! Then to make the night even funnier, the man turns to my date and says, "Alright...now I really have to know...how old are you?" Brian replied, "Twenty-seven." The man went nuts. He said, "Yeeeeeaaaaahhhh!!!!!!" I looked at his wife and we smiled, both knowing that if we weren't there, they be locked in a man-hug, with this man high-fiving Brian and patting him on the back! That whole experience was about enough to sustain me through the rest of the year! :)

Have a great weekend, everyone!

Changing Direction...

This is where I live. My own backyard (well, actually my front yard since behind me is a road). It's a beautiful lake, rather small, but incredibly peaceful. It only takes about fifteen minutes to walk the mile around the lake and it's one of the most peaceful times of the day for me.

Yesterday, July 4th, I took this picture while walking back towards my house. The blankets on the bank of the lake are not Orange County's contribution to the AIDS quilt, as it might look, just the community reserving their spots for prime firework viewing.

Now, my camera doesn't do this picture the justice it deserves. The greens are much greener, the mountains more majestic, and on some of the smaller trees in front, there are the most beautiful purple flowers.

The funny thing about this picture is how I came to take it. I was at the Beach Club - a man made lagoon on the side of the lake I was standing on, about 30 yards down the path from my house. The lake water is nasty and not good for swimming, so my community has built a small lagoon with chlorinated water, sand and picnic areas for families to gather. There's just a narrow bridge separating the lagoon from the real lake water. Needless to say, it was packed for the 4th.

I went early to reserve a lounge chair on the sand, and at 8 AM I got the very last one. I was meeting my friends that night for a yacht ride around Newport Harbor to watch the fireworks (very hoity toity :), but spent the early part of the day by myself, so I only needed one chair. Since I live so close, I would just walk home whenever I needed something. Being the Coke addict that I am (the liquid kind), and fountain Coke snob, I walked at one point to the Carl's Jr. that sits in the shopping center around the other side of the lake. I'm a terrible creature of habit. I walk the same way around every day, same direction, same path, stopping at the same spots to look at the beauty of the lake. Coming back from Carl's Jr., however, it made more sense to backtrack to the Beach Club the way I came. And I'm so glad I did. How is it possible that after living on this lake for 8 months, and walking around it every day - morning or evening and sometimes both - I have never seen this beautiful perspective? I always walk around the other way and this scene ends up at my back, or I end up walking right underneath it, basically not seeing it from the same angle. I am certainly no philosopher, but how have I become so narrow minded, going through life with blinders on, and essentially blocking out that which is beyond my limited and "comfortable" perspective? It made me think about what something as small and simplistic as changing your direction can lead to. I'm not someone who embraces change, but rather rolls with it. I can't say I don't like change because I feel like I'm an adventurous person, who seeks out new and exciting life experiences. But that's not change. That's adventure. Change is like what's coming up for me shortly, when I have to dust off my resume and, for possibly the first time in my life, seek out a position that has not been offered to me. And let me tell ya...the biggest thing that came with this new pretty house on the lake is the mortgage, which I'm pretty sure is higher than the national debt. Being a single mom, the kind of change that will make me uncertain about meeting that mortgage is more than a little frightening. I'm having to face life changing decisions about certain relationships in my life. All I can do is pray that I'm making the right decisions because we never really know if we are until we see them play out, and for me that could be years. Staying complacent can be so comfortable, don't you think?

So while I was busy contemplating these changes in my life and my new found perspective, I came home to an e-mail yesterday telling me that one of my dearest friends, Lisa, has lost her oldest son. He was kayaking in Newport Harbor the night before and suffered some kind of a seizure. Because it was nighttime, Lisa's husband who was kayaking with him, couldn't find him in the dark and sadly he drowned, being found by the Coast Guard several hours later. Her son Richard was the father of twin little girls.
Well. Lisa never had the option of staying in her comfortable cocoon, did she? Her life is irreparably changed with a loss that I cannot even imagine, not to mention her son's wife and children. It will probably be years, if ever, that she wakes up in the morning and thinks a career decision means anything at all. Years before she walks around a lake path such as this and cares which direction she is headed. Years before her husband wakes up without being haunted by the memory of that night, and his futile effort to find his son in the dark. This woman who has meant so much to me, an unwavering support in my times of need, is now dealing with something that is too horrific to even gauge. No words can touch it, and yet as a mother, there's that selfish part of me that laid my head on my pillow last night and thanked God that it wasn't one of my own children. Sort of puts my decisions into some much needed perspective. A new job - just not that big. The relationships I'm talking about - definitely not life or death.

I don't know what to do for my friend Lisa - I don't know what to say. And in my floundering helplessness, all I can do is love her and pray for her and her family, that amongst the sleepless nights and unanswered questions they will inevitably face, that peace will eventually find them.

When he shall die,
Take him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of heaven so fine
That all the world will be in love with night
~William Shakespeare