it's embarking on a year

It is coming up to a year since my Mom has passed away. I can't believe it's been almost a year since that fateful weekend. I've written a little about the passing but mostly from a place I call the "Wastelands" a place and book title by Stephen King from his Dark Tower series where he titled it after a highly influential 434-line modernest poem by T. S. Eliot. This was not a good place to be. It was desolate and dark with a very eerie feeling as though a tornado could hit down anywhere or a gigantic earthquake could rock the earth. Ominous and foreboding couldn't even describe what was to come.

It also felt as if I were the only one in an airplane, sitting in the co-pilot's seat watching the plane plummet, spiraling in slow motion with no control and no way to pull out of the fall.

This was the deepest, darkest place I have never been. I hardly remember the 6 months after February 24th. I know it was somewhat of a blur. The morning of her death was such a surreal feeling. She died at 5:15am on a gloomy, overcast Sunday. After the whole family had left the rehab center where she passed, my Uncle was driving me back to the house I grew up in, my Mom's house. That drive was a blur. I remember thinking how finished it was and how much was left unsaid. . .


My mom had been diagnosed with a tumor inside her lung 6 months prior that turned out to be lung cancer. Her prognosis was uncertain so she went through chemo and radiation. Living over 70 made it difficult to really ascertain how her level of health was really. I had both my sister and brother living with her, taking her to her doctor's appts. yet I think even they were led to believe her situation was positive.


I had a trip planned with our youngest son to visit my Mom and family in Salinas the weekend of Feb. 22nd. That week prior to that weekend, Duque, my oldest brother mentioned that they moved Mom from the hospital into a rehabilitation place. This sounded like good news as it seems she would be on yet another road to recovery however throughout that week, I kept getting updates that her condition was getting worse and finally by Friday morning, 3 hours before Asher and I were to get on a plane to fly down to Salinas, my family said it was not good and that Mom was becoming unresponsive and seemed to be in a lot of pain. . .


Just a side note, I rarely saw my mom in pain, if ever, while growing up. She was silent and stoic. That morning while I was trying to get ready to leave with Asher, I broke down finally realizing that this could be it. Now for some reason, I always thought that when it was time for my Mom to go, I would be very calm and understanding of the whole process. Having that realization that morning crippled me. Luckily my wife and our oldest son, got on the phone really quick and were able to secure tickets on the same flight which was a godsend for what I was about to go through.


We flew down and immediately drove from the airport in San Jose to the rehab center in Salinas where my Mom was staying. When entering the room, that was not the Mom I grew up with. To spare you the details, her physicality had changed quite dramatically and she was barely audible. Through all my life, my Mom has been a rock, a fortress, self sufficient and the most selfless person I knew. She was now a mere shell of what she was and it was insanely difficult to take in.


I first got an update of the status and type of care she'd been receiving while in this rehabilitation clinic. My brother, sister and myself were wondering why she wasn't being moved back into the hospital to fight whatever she had that was taking over. We had tried to page her doctor but wouldn't hear from him until the end of the next day. From that Friday night on, my brother, sister and I were by her side trying to make her as comfortable as we could.


For me, that started Friday afternoon. From that point until Sunday morning, there were many ups and downs. At one point on Saturday, my cousin Aaron and his wife Brenda were in the room while the others were out. It came to a point where my Mom was vocalizing "she was done" and that she didn't want to do this anymore. That 20 minutes while I softly rubbed her brow and told her that it was okay to let go and that everything would be alright. I told her how good a job she did in raising all of us and that she meant everything to us. I thought right then and there that it was coming to an end. It was also the most lucid moment in my entire time with my Mom that weekend. She looked into my eyes and said, "I don't want to do this anymore, I just want it to end. . ." in which I said, "Let it go Mom, we'll be okay, just let go" while tears were streaming down my face. I finally was able to calm her for the time being and that was just one of the many rollercoaster moments I endured that weekend.

When Saturday night rolled around, her doctor finally showed up and my brother and myself went to speak with him in the hallway outside my Mom's door. We asked about her condition and why she wasn't being moved back to the hospital. The doctor then laid down the boom. He said her body was shutting down and their wasn't much to be done, other than make her comfortable. Whenever she seems in pain, give her a dose of morphine.

Now morphine kind of puts the patient into a la la state and their ability to comprehend decreases immensely. My sister, brother and myself agreed we'd rather not see her in pain as she was pretty far out already. We then started the morphine to at least relieve the pain she was having which seemed to be increasing minute by minute.

There was one moment that Saturday night that seemed to change the landscape quite a bit. There was this nurse who reminded me of Zelda Rubinstein, the little short lady from Poltergeist and she would usher us out, as she was in charge of changing the sheets and linens and any other incidentals that needed to be taken care of that night. By then, there was quite a bit of family that had shown up. We all slumbered into the lobby as it was just after 11, however my brother, sister and myself felt compelled to get back in the room as soon as possible before the rest of the family.

It was at this moment when we entered the room, that we saw my Mom sort of sitting up and her eyes were wide open and it seemed like the last look of life that came out of her. Her eyes were wide as if she knew this was it. It seemed really strange that right after this Poltergeist lady visited the room knowing that our mother was in her final hours, that the last of our Mom's life was emitted. After that moment, she became a low breathing vegetable. Duque and I sent Robynn home for a few hours to sleep around midnight. It was just Duque and myself in the room with the weird Poltergeist lady showing up every so often to let us know the progression of her death.


I must say, seeing that rapid decline in my Mom's health through to the final breath was a sight I wish I wouldn't have seen. A lot of people have brought up to me that they would much rather be there during the whole process and receive the closure they anticipate they will get. Let me tell you, that was the hardest 36 hours I've ever gone through and don't recommend it to anyone. When I think of my Mom nowadays, I think of that last weekend with her in utter turmoil and sores inside her mouth and pretty much incoherent. i hate those images and yet they are burned in my mind forever.

My mother was silent and stoic and she lived a tough life. She was the most influential and important woman in my life. As my Uncle Dave said to my Mom shortly after her death, "Have fun Janet, have fun!" I hope your having a great time Mom and I can't wait to see you. . .

Where to hide?

The alcoves in Koningin Astridpark. . .

Polite Sneeze

Whatever happened to sneezing politely? Seriously, there are a few people in my office that when they sneeze, it sounds as if they're spraying their phlegm all over their desk. GROSS! Try to cover your nose and mouth when you sneeze. Cover it up, people! Don't Attssschoooooooo so loud that it it reaches my area. This should be common sense but apparently it isn't since multiple people have this issue in just my office alone, not to mention when I take mass transit. It's so wrong and I get so disgusted with the people that can't control their sneezing.

There is also those ultra polite people that when they sneeze they are able to keep it within their head and it seems as if their head will explode as they hold their nose and close their mouth and let the little time bomb go off. I have no problem with these people other than I'm afraid for their lives each time they do this.

So that's it, I had to get this off my chest. I may delete this post later on but it was screaming out of me especially when every time a certain someone sneezes and it's like a typhoon is launched from their cube. . . not good.

Closer

I lay down in my bed, I take one earphone and insert it into my left ear and then the same to the right ear. I lay my head back and press play. A synthesizer starts it off slow and melodic for a few turns, then a unsuspected snap of the snare brings me out of the trance I'm in and owns me.

All I can do is shudder with fear as the haunting wale comes in from the guitarist's pickups. By the time the lyrics come in, I already know this is my anthem giving me power in every situation. The guttural voice sings with a controlled yell that is un-paralleled.

Still that synthesizer and drum beat flow through my head as I listen to the words. It's insane the rush I feel listening to this song that I could hear it over and over again. As it drops it's canter leaving just the synthesizer, it feels like a lullaby putting me to sleep. . .good night

35

Well, today I turned 35, I don't feel much older although I feel very emotional being my first birthday without having my mother around to celebrate with. I didn't think it would hit me as hard as it has. Just another day. . .

The Basis of What?

Jules: What does Marcellus Wallace look like?
Brett: What?
Jules: What country you from?
Brett: What?
Jules: What ain't no country I ever heard of! They speak English in What?
Brett: What?
Jules: ENGLISH, MOTHERFUCKER! DO-YOU-SPEAK-IT?
Brett: Yes!
Jules: Then you know what I'm saying!
Brett: Yes!
Jules: Describe what Marcellus Wallace looks like!
Brett: What, I-?
Jules: [pointing his gun] Say what again. SAY WHAT AGAIN. I dare you, I double dare you, motherfucker. Say what one more goddamn time.

The never ending strive for perfection

This is one of my tattoos. With tattoos, I believe in putting them in discrete places so I can show them when I want but they're not exposed when wearing normal clothes. This tattoo is on the inside of my right bicep.

This tattoo in particular I designed and had done a few years ago when I was about 24 years old. My wife and I decided on a whim to go gettem one evening after work and we happened upon Al's Rock of Ages tattoo parlor, on El Camino Real. We were living in San Mateo and working in SF at the time. I ended up designing this puzzle theme after seeing an episode of X-files with Mulder and Scully working on a case at a carnival. Within this episode, a sideshow performer in real life was playing a character as himself, the Enigma. That sentence may not read correctly but I'm not clever enough at the moment to change it.

I'm really not sure where I'm going with this post so I think I'll stop but I will be getting another one soon. I just need to design it. Ohh wait, there was a story about getting to the tattoo parlor that goes a little like this:

My wife and I drive to the location which isn't far from our apartment at the time; I'm driving. We see the place on the left but I turned too early into a small parking lot for a apartment complex and as I drive around the back to find a place to turn around, I see a black extension cord going across the driveway and is attached to a lamp that a man is using to see under the hood as he was obviously trying to work on his truck. As I drive over the cord, I see him look at us and I just want to get the heck outta this lot since it looks a little shady. I start my 3 point turn but as I back up, I drive right over where two extension cords meet and I see his bulb flash and go out. Uh oh, he looks at his bulb and then at us in a disgusted look and I immediately high-tail it out of there, not wanting to stay to see what he would have done. When we get to the end of the driveway, we would need to go left to the tattoo parlor but I'm so freaked out about that guy's lamp and thinking it was a bad omen, I just wanted to go back home and forget about the tattoo that evening.

My wife however still wanted to do it and mentioned if she didn't get one that night, she might back out altogether so I agreed and we ended up parking on the street several streets over so that dude couldn't see where we went if he was gonna follow us which I don't think he did. We laughed at the whole situation after we got home that night but holy cow, at that moment, we were both freaked out and the auspice involving the breaking of the bulb almost made us give up on the whole tattoo thing for good; glad we didn't :)

Café au lait - Who knew?

For years now, I've been getting the standard drip coffee with an occasional Americano or an infrequent longing for a white chocolate mocha mainly from Starbucks. Yeah, Starbucks has a lot of my money. However, just recently I decided to try a Café au lait instead after hearing a co-worker say that is the only coffee they'll order when buying from an outside establishment. To those of you who are not aware of what a cafe au lait consists of, it basically is the house coffee with steamed milk, not to be confused with a Latte' which utilizes expresso instead of regular coffee.

Now at Starbucks, they've switched the name from cafe au lait to Caffè Misto. I'm not sure why, I haven't really asked them about it since it really won't change the taste of the drink at all. The main reason I buy from Starbucks is the convenient location on my way to work. I have realized though that their Misto doesn't hold a candle to a local establishment we have here in Portland called World Cup. There is something about their cafe au lait that is crazy good. I've also tried one other establishment and so far, World Cup is winning the race by a long shot.

I'm glad I branched out and tried something new. It definitely worked for me. I'd say the percentage things work for me when trying something new is very low, like 5%, well this was well within that 5%!

The Widowmaker

The term "widowmaker" can refer to many things (click on title) and when I first heard this word, it immediately connected to me and have since given myself this nickname. Now I know one is not supposed to give themselves a nickname and in the movie "Young Guns II", the character Hendry William French asks Billy the Kid for a nickname and Billy says to Hendry, you have to earn it.

Well, I'm not sure what I'll have to do to earn this nickname since the true meaning is a little violent but until then, I will be taking it as my own!

Blogging

I have been out of blogging commission for a little bit but will be returning and utilizing this canvas as a creative outlet. To my fan out there, "there are other worlds than these. . ."

Kickin' Band

VP Kicks ASS!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Not only back but way back!

I'm back here at Bridgetown selling what I know. The stint in paper really made me realize that the grass is not greener on the other side which I thought it always was. It may have been the company I chose and the dynamic they created with each rep working as their own cell and not really accountible for what he or she has done. It just didn't work for me so I'm back in the printing game

What the paper industry taught me was that I was better off in the printing world, doing something in which I got a degree in. It's not to say the paper industry was hard but with no training and no support it became overwhelming along with some other factors that came into play.

The bottom line is, I should have never left printing as I lost about 6 months of growth here at Bridgetown.

I definitely feel happier now and where I should be.

Thanks,
Courtney

I'm back; back in the saddle agaaaiiiiin!?

Weeks after my mother has passed

What a wonderful hesitation
who would bear to feel sorry for me
dropped another pill just to calm me
collapsed to my knees and fell fast into sleep
there I was drifting
way out into the sunshine
expecting to crash but I'm tied to a string
look at me I'm a tangled puppet
I might be a mess but I'm sure can survive
find myself awake counting sad days
1-2-3 that's too many for me
dropped another pill just to find me
reached for my hand but it was already there
then I started believin'
that I fell out of a tiny raindrop
that lost its way when I decided to roam
chasing me was a hungry dweller
but I had escaped it by pretending to die
come follow me
you won't expect the illusion you'll see
it's my imagination
hand me your eyes
I will put them in front of mine
you'll see a little better
you'll see a little better
what a wonderful destination
where I am now
I can no longer see
dropped another pill just to kill me
collapsed to my knees and fell fast into sleep
there I was
there I was
there I was drifting
way out into the sunshine
expecting to crash but I'm tied to a string
look at me I'm a tangled puppet
I might be a mess but I'm sure can survive
but I had escaped it by pretending to die

Evolving

Now it is time that I must morph my old blog into a newer one. I'm somewhat removed from the Printing world and am now working for the Paper world. Granted, I still work with printers on a daily basis, I am now a vendor of theirs.

The transition from selling printing to selling paper has been more difficult than I originally imagined. I thought I would have no problem picking up whatever new protocols that there might be. So far there are so many different rules for every little thing, I believe it will take some time before I have a good handle of the day to day managerial tasks that I have to do.

I have no problem with the selling part and thoroughly enjoy the part of my job where I go from customer to customer, visiting with them and updating them with whats going on in the paper industry. However, there is an entirely different job that happens once I get back to my desk that involves painstaking processes that are difficult to understand, but I'm getting there.

I have to transition this blog and I'm not sure how to. Any advice out there? I'm trying to figure out a way that I can bring in my current status as a paper sales person to the mix and still utilize what I know as a printer. Who knows, maybe this doesn't even matter, I mean, this is pretty much just an creative outlet hiding behind what I think is useful to any of you that might read this.

Maybe I should stop trying to make this about what job I have at the moment and make it more of a creative round table where people can write and be written to about any creative ideas that they have at the moment, and belive me, I have a few.

A Juncture

I have changed employment in the past month which has left me really distraught. Unfortunately, this was a necessary move. I'm now selling Fine Paper as opposed to printing. Oh, and it's not the same thing as working for Dunder Mifflin. Professionally, it will be a lot similar to selling printing.

I will be calling primarily on Printers to sell them parent sheets, rolls, digital paper or if they want copy paper, that too. I won't be picky. I'm hungry and if I can sell it, I will.

The internal battle I'm facing has to do with leaving a position that I wasn't entirely happy with to a position that has a questionable future. My new position does have a great upside in the fact that I will be working from home, I can make my own hours, I now have company 401k matching, better health insurance and I'm attaining an established territory.

The downside at the moment is I feel depressed and lost. I am also scared that this position could dissolve at any moment and the possibility is out of my hands. All I can do is hope for the best and try to learn as much as I can in the time that I have. Never the less, I worry. I'm really good at worrying. I know the current depression is mostly due to changing environments and having to get acclimated all over again to a new company. I miss my old co-workers. I miss the day to day banter we had.

Regardless, all that I missed unfortunately was not paying the bills. I had to make the move or I'm not sure what the outcome would have been. Where's the light at the end of the tunnel?

Ups and Downs

There are a lot of ups and downs in sales that make it tough to stay really motivated and wanting to keep coming to work every day even after numerous rejections. What keeps me motivated are these two guys:

I surround myself with pictures of my two boys to always keep me motivated and striving for more. I couldn't stand not being able to provide for them in the way that I think they deserve.

It's tough being rejected but for every 10 rejections there has been a really customer that has come along that makes me want to do my job better. Some of you, and I hope you know who I'm talking about, give me a lot of joy in doing my job. You make it easy to be a sales person of which I'm really not. I don't consider myself a sales person. I like to think of myself more of a solutions expert and client manager willing to do whatever it takes to make my customers happy.

Sometimes when I get down, usually due to being really slow at work, I get in my car and start to drive. I try and open my mind to find out what am I doing wrong or what I'm not doing right. It usually boils down to apathy. I tend to snap out of it quick usually when I get home at the end of the day and my three year old son runs up to me and jumps in my arms. I love that. Or as I'm leaving to work in the morning and the three year old gives me a hug and kiss and says "don't go to work daddy, stay here with us". That breaks my heart but at the same time, it gets me going and I don't want to dissapoint him by not working really hard during the day.

Sales will always be tough however if I strive to keep a creative mind and always service my customers to the best of my ability, I know I will make it. It also doesn't hurt to have my two sons as my motivation!

Environmentally Friendly

Forest Stewardship Council (FSC) is just one of the many new ways that Printers are becoming more environmentally aware. Using soy based inks, recycled paper and wind power energy are a few others. Our company follows a lot of environmental practices, many of which you can find at http://www.bridgetown.com/environmental.html.

FSC has really helped our industry create awareness in the environment where soy based inks and recycled paper have kind of dwindled. FSC has created a serious buzz in ours and many other industries with its creative marketing campaign. One of the FSC logos is a Rainforest Alliance logo and on the logo is a frog. I know a few customers loved using that logo on their brochures and have said they will continue to do so on future projects. Each time we print this and the FSC logo, we create awareness.

I read the other day that Gibson Guitar has produced 25 environmentally-friendly guitars with the Live Earth logo on the front and they are FSC certified. Apparently they will be auctioned off to benefit the Live Earth concerts and Alliance for Climate Protection. This is very cool.

We all try to do our best to help the environment and in addition to sorting my plastic, paper and aluminum goods at home I try to educate my clients on the uses of FSC information. Printed information gets seen by a lot of eyes so the more jobs I can get these logos onto, the more I feel I'm helping create awareness for the safety of our forests.

Just do it!

My very first boss in the printing industry used to say "Just do it" and that has stuck with me all this time. When I first started in printing, I worked as an estimator figuring out the costs and the way a print job would run. I remember complaining one day about a request I received to provide a multitude of options for a print estimate. My boss turned to me and said, "Just do it! It's going to have to get done anyway, you might as well stop complaining about it and get it done!" This was said in a semi-jest way but I knew he was right.

From that day forward we both lived by that Mantra and whenever someone complained about something they had to do, we gave them that advice. It is good advice. Too many times I think we as a whole complain just to complain so other people will feel pity for us. In the end, if it is something that has to get done, you just do it and get it over with. Complaining about it won't get it done faster or make it easier to get done. One of my best friends just called me complaining about all the work he had to get done by the weekend and you know what I said?

You know it. . .

Take a minute . . .

More and more I find that I don't take a minute and just notice things once in a while. I often get to wrapped up in life and what I'm doing to ever stop and smell the roses. Yesterday, as I was taking the trash up my hill to the curb, I found myself looking into the sky and noticing the blueness of it and the scattered clouds that reminded me of childhood and how I used to lay on the ground and seek out animal shapes from them.

I remember one time watching a lifetime movie about a person that became blind later in life due to some illness that couldn't be prevented. The actor in the movie mentioned that she missed being able to see the colors of the leaves, sky and the grass. After watching that movie, I tried to take a little time every now and then and just appreciate the ability to see and hear everything around me. I take it for granted most of the time however yesterday I just took a minute while taking out the trash to just listen and see the world around me. It was nice and I'm gonna try to do it more often because if I don't, I may just miss it.