Showing posts with label death. Show all posts
Showing posts with label death. Show all posts
Thursday, May 9, 2013
Monday, April 22, 2013
Healing
We're all trying to move on from the events last week and start to heal. Things are less surreal now, though just as heartbreaking. I keep thinking about how lucky I am to not be directly effected by the events and to not have to explain to my kids what happened. We live a few blocks away from the funeral home that is holding the wake for one of the victims, and yesterday the area was lined with police cars and helicopters to protect the family and friends from potential (promised) protests from the Westboro Baptist Church. I can still get away with not being truthful when Sam asks about all the activity. Today, I drove past the funeral home, as they were preparing to leave for the church, with Vivian in the car, my heart heavy, her sleeping obliviously.
Funeral article link
Friday was horrible and tense as waves of news kept us glued to the TVs, poor journalism, and misinformation; as the police searched for the suspect after an MIT police officer was killed, another wounded and a chase ensued through Cambridge and Watertown. Communities were on lockdown, with Davis Square and other urban areas being ghost towns, while next door Medford had minimal traffic. I went to a grocery store in Chelsea which was open, and in the same plaza, TJ Maxx and RadioShack were closed. My mother couldn't get to New York with Amtrak, the T, and buses being down. Of course there are connections everywhere, in this small city, and Tess knew the officer who was killed.
My coworkers had to endure their homes being searched by SWAT team members and to take cover during the gunfights and manhunt in Watertown. Everyone returned to school today with counseling services on hand, to support each other and the students through the hopeful return to routine and normalcy. On Friday, I watched on the news as neighborhoods I am familiar with, were combed for explosives, the suspect, and lined with law enforcement in military vehicles. Social media actually became a source of comfort and reassurance as friends updated their statuses and let us know they were okay, some providing much needed humor (not to make light of the situation).
"Omg there's a swat team in my house right now!!!!!"
(and my message to her & response:
me: "I hope there were some hot guys"
her: "Thanks for the good laugh. They were literally hot and sweating poor guys. Most were older, but a couple were good looking ")
"The swat guys were super cool and friendly. They declined a group photo. One of them said, "its still pretty dangerous" to me. You know I had to try."
There were some scary images and statuses also, but I will refrain from sharing those.A few that were taken in the thick of things by friends in the neighborhood:
And that have been circulating:
A police officer delivers milk to family with young children who were on lockdown in Watertown.
The Make Way for Ducklings Statues in Boston.
And of course, moments like this, David Ortiz speaking at Fenway Park on April 20.
Big Papi at Fenway link
Now the suspect is in the same hospital as those who were injured in the initial bombing. The same hospital that Vivian was born in less than two months ago.
Chris and I went down to Newbury Street yesterday, without the kids, to walk around the galleries and get out of the house. Newbury runs parallel to Bolyston, which is still an active crime scene. People were everywhere and the cherry blossoms and Magnolia trees were in bloom. On the corner of Newbury Street, people sat eating lunch outside at Stephanie's. Next to them where Newbury and Exeter St meet, metal barriers blocked the crime scene and memorials lay. Bolyston is still littered with blown out windows and the same mangled barriers that first responders pulled aside and leapt over. The Bolyston blocks and intersecting streets are silent and deserted, other than the crowds paying their respects and officers guarding the area, and the forensic teams dressed in all white, combing through the area. It's eery and heartbreaking. Large bomb squad vehicles are parked throughout and news crews are still filming. The next block is lively and crowded and signs of spring are everywhere. H & M has the Newbury St entrance open and the adjoining entrance onto Clarendon is locked with the investigation in full force outside.
Now we move on, as the suspect at Beth Israel hospital is beginning to communicate and victims are laid to rest. People are coming together to mourn and hold vigils and runs, and find some peace. The great political repercussions have yet to be seen with immigration and Miranda rights hitting the forefront of the discussions.
We have to cherish what we have, the communities we live in, and the way tragedies bring us together, and hope not to have to explain this type of thing to our children, ever.
This is a little overdone, but a recap of both the events, Boston community, and spirit.
Below is a link to the Opening ceremony at Fenway Park on April 20.
Fenway 4/20 Opening Ceremony
Funeral article link
Friday was horrible and tense as waves of news kept us glued to the TVs, poor journalism, and misinformation; as the police searched for the suspect after an MIT police officer was killed, another wounded and a chase ensued through Cambridge and Watertown. Communities were on lockdown, with Davis Square and other urban areas being ghost towns, while next door Medford had minimal traffic. I went to a grocery store in Chelsea which was open, and in the same plaza, TJ Maxx and RadioShack were closed. My mother couldn't get to New York with Amtrak, the T, and buses being down. Of course there are connections everywhere, in this small city, and Tess knew the officer who was killed.
My coworkers had to endure their homes being searched by SWAT team members and to take cover during the gunfights and manhunt in Watertown. Everyone returned to school today with counseling services on hand, to support each other and the students through the hopeful return to routine and normalcy. On Friday, I watched on the news as neighborhoods I am familiar with, were combed for explosives, the suspect, and lined with law enforcement in military vehicles. Social media actually became a source of comfort and reassurance as friends updated their statuses and let us know they were okay, some providing much needed humor (not to make light of the situation).
"Omg there's a swat team in my house right now!!!!!"
(and my message to her & response:
me: "I hope there were some hot guys"
her: "Thanks for the good laugh. They were literally hot and sweating poor guys. Most were older, but a couple were good looking ")
"We are becoming way too familiar with our living room rug today!"
"Huffingtonpost interview shows our Swifer was in the shot!"
"The swat guys were super cool and friendly. They declined a group photo. One of them said, "its still pretty dangerous" to me. You know I had to try."
There were some scary images and statuses also, but I will refrain from sharing those.A few that were taken in the thick of things by friends in the neighborhood:
And that have been circulating:
A police officer delivers milk to family with young children who were on lockdown in Watertown.
The Make Way for Ducklings Statues in Boston.
And of course, moments like this, David Ortiz speaking at Fenway Park on April 20.
Big Papi at Fenway link
Now the suspect is in the same hospital as those who were injured in the initial bombing. The same hospital that Vivian was born in less than two months ago.
Chris and I went down to Newbury Street yesterday, without the kids, to walk around the galleries and get out of the house. Newbury runs parallel to Bolyston, which is still an active crime scene. People were everywhere and the cherry blossoms and Magnolia trees were in bloom. On the corner of Newbury Street, people sat eating lunch outside at Stephanie's. Next to them where Newbury and Exeter St meet, metal barriers blocked the crime scene and memorials lay. Bolyston is still littered with blown out windows and the same mangled barriers that first responders pulled aside and leapt over. The Bolyston blocks and intersecting streets are silent and deserted, other than the crowds paying their respects and officers guarding the area, and the forensic teams dressed in all white, combing through the area. It's eery and heartbreaking. Large bomb squad vehicles are parked throughout and news crews are still filming. The next block is lively and crowded and signs of spring are everywhere. H & M has the Newbury St entrance open and the adjoining entrance onto Clarendon is locked with the investigation in full force outside.
Now we move on, as the suspect at Beth Israel hospital is beginning to communicate and victims are laid to rest. People are coming together to mourn and hold vigils and runs, and find some peace. The great political repercussions have yet to be seen with immigration and Miranda rights hitting the forefront of the discussions.
We have to cherish what we have, the communities we live in, and the way tragedies bring us together, and hope not to have to explain this type of thing to our children, ever.
This is a little overdone, but a recap of both the events, Boston community, and spirit.
Below is a link to the Opening ceremony at Fenway Park on April 20.
Fenway 4/20 Opening Ceremony
Sunday, September 16, 2012
Blue Fishy
We ended up getting a little Beta fish recently, one weekend when Chris was away, and Sam and I had a lot of time together. We had been reading a lot of "going to school" stories, as Sam was transitioning to a toddler program in a toddler- grade 2 school, and we were trying to prepare. For some reason, every story featured fish and feeding fish. Sam likes stories and reading and seems to get a lot out of his books, so I think he related to most of what the school stories were implying (say goodbye to parents, have fun with friends, do projects, eat snack, read books... fish?).
On day three of Chris's trip, we were trying to run some errands. Going to more than two stores is asking a lot of a two year old, especially if it requires getting back in the car between places. Luckily, that day, Sam was being cooperative (it may have had something to do with the Panera chocolate chip bagel I bribed him with to get him out the door in the first place). With two errands down, and one left to run in the same plaza, I couldn't fathom trying to come back to the area again, I told him we could go and look at the fish in the pet store if he would go to one more store with me. It worked, and we ended up with a Beta fish. I had been contemplating getting one anyway, so it wasn't that big of a deal. Now he would relate to the pet fish in the books also.
The fish, who was blue, was aptly named, "Blue Fishy," by Sam. He was quite proud of it and would have to visit it periodically throughout the day to show it various toys and tell it things.
"See Monsta twuck Blue Fishy? I play with Monsta twuck. You like it?"
"Don't worry Blue Fishy, I home now."
"Blue Fishy, Daddy come home soon," and so on. I did have to point out that Blue Fishy didn't want to see Monster truck up close (like in his little tank) and remind him about putting things in Blue Fishy's water that weren't food.
Anyway, Blue Fishy was a good pet for two whole weeks. Then, we got an great assignment from Sam's school that I had five days to complete: a list of photos to bring on the first day. I have very limited printed photos at all, so this was quite a task (photo of child's face, the whole child, a family photo- recent?, and photos of the family pets). I was going to skip the photo of Blue Fishy, but figured Sam would inevitably mention it and I'd get caught. Turns out I needn't have worried. Camera in hand I approached the cubic tank and found Blue Fishy motionless and not revived upon a gentle shaking of the tank or by addition of food.
So, Blue Fishy is no longer. Sam accepted Blue Fishy's death well. We just talked about how it wasn't going to swim anymore and it was time to let Blue Fishy go (in the toilet). Sometimes he will look into the toilet and ask if Blue Fishy is coming back and then say, "oh no, I 'member. Blue Fishy go home. Yep, bye-bye Blue Fishy."
I think we got off easy on that one. He also hasn't asked for a new fish, so for now we'll stick to the cat.
On day three of Chris's trip, we were trying to run some errands. Going to more than two stores is asking a lot of a two year old, especially if it requires getting back in the car between places. Luckily, that day, Sam was being cooperative (it may have had something to do with the Panera chocolate chip bagel I bribed him with to get him out the door in the first place). With two errands down, and one left to run in the same plaza, I couldn't fathom trying to come back to the area again, I told him we could go and look at the fish in the pet store if he would go to one more store with me. It worked, and we ended up with a Beta fish. I had been contemplating getting one anyway, so it wasn't that big of a deal. Now he would relate to the pet fish in the books also.
The fish, who was blue, was aptly named, "Blue Fishy," by Sam. He was quite proud of it and would have to visit it periodically throughout the day to show it various toys and tell it things.
"See Monsta twuck Blue Fishy? I play with Monsta twuck. You like it?"
"Don't worry Blue Fishy, I home now."
"Blue Fishy, Daddy come home soon," and so on. I did have to point out that Blue Fishy didn't want to see Monster truck up close (like in his little tank) and remind him about putting things in Blue Fishy's water that weren't food.
Anyway, Blue Fishy was a good pet for two whole weeks. Then, we got an great assignment from Sam's school that I had five days to complete: a list of photos to bring on the first day. I have very limited printed photos at all, so this was quite a task (photo of child's face, the whole child, a family photo- recent?, and photos of the family pets). I was going to skip the photo of Blue Fishy, but figured Sam would inevitably mention it and I'd get caught. Turns out I needn't have worried. Camera in hand I approached the cubic tank and found Blue Fishy motionless and not revived upon a gentle shaking of the tank or by addition of food.
So, Blue Fishy is no longer. Sam accepted Blue Fishy's death well. We just talked about how it wasn't going to swim anymore and it was time to let Blue Fishy go (in the toilet). Sometimes he will look into the toilet and ask if Blue Fishy is coming back and then say, "oh no, I 'member. Blue Fishy go home. Yep, bye-bye Blue Fishy."
I think we got off easy on that one. He also hasn't asked for a new fish, so for now we'll stick to the cat.
Saturday, November 12, 2011
Offices, Pharmacies, and Too Much Medication
Sam's been a trooper through all this illness, down to me losing my patience over silly stuff that wouldn't normally bother me ("mama said, "NO pouring your bottle on the couch!!! SAM, NO!!!") and getting dragged from appointment to appointment and various pharmacies. I usually try to leave him with Chris or my parents when I go to the doctor's, so that not only he is not exposed to random germs, but I can also actually carry on a conversation with the doctor.
His last appointment to check on his ears, ended with Sam screaming, "Bye-bye, bye-BYE, BYE-BYE. Buses, outside BUSES!" as I tried to get the final directions from the tolerant doc. (His reward for going to the doctor is to see the buses in Davis Square afterwards and the statues on the bike path). When I look back at photos from Halloween and see how pale and sick he was, I'm just glad he's feeling better.
Today he entertained the masses as the useless pharmacist searched fruitlessly for a prescription that had been faxed in, which she just couldn't locate. Sam waved over my shoulder at the line forming behind me, "hi people!" he called, "Mama, people! HI people!" I didn't dare turn around because I was afraid of how many "people" were the line now.
Then he got down and did his new walk, a giant side step from side to side, which luckily the "people" were amused by. Thank God he wasn't screaming Sam, but cute entertainer guy.
We then got to drive two towns over to my doctor, where he entertained the waiting room, while I double-checked that the prescription had been sent (it had), but they don't answer phones on Saturday, so I had to go there to find out.
We have been really trying to keep him in a routine and get out and about with him (even if it's playing with keys at Daddy's office), despite everyone feeling crappy. With my super-duper doses of antibiotics (4 pills together on day 1?), hopefully I will feel better soon.
Since we didn't track down the medication till this afternoon, I didn't get to take my horse-size dose until around dinner time. Chris went to the Bruins game, and I plodded through the nighttime routine in a medicated haze, feeling slightly dizzy and hoping Sam would be in his crib before I potentially passed out. I finally got a very hyper, very tolerant little guy down to bed. He won't know what to do when everyone is back on their feet!
Times like this make me think of how lucky we really are. At the hospital getting a lung x-ray yesterday, I saw so many little tikes getting carried into the ER by their parents, and a little girl who was a patient there. I think of a colleague, Danielle, who passed away last year from cancer, how I imagine that she lived with the pain day-to-day while she worked until months before her death. I think of families who have lost their dads or moms, watched them suffer. This is all a minor inconvenience to us, and it is taxing enough. Finding the strength to get through a long-term or terminal illness is just something I can't imagine contending with. Hoping for healthy days ahead for everyone.
His last appointment to check on his ears, ended with Sam screaming, "Bye-bye, bye-BYE, BYE-BYE. Buses, outside BUSES!" as I tried to get the final directions from the tolerant doc. (His reward for going to the doctor is to see the buses in Davis Square afterwards and the statues on the bike path). When I look back at photos from Halloween and see how pale and sick he was, I'm just glad he's feeling better.
Today he entertained the masses as the useless pharmacist searched fruitlessly for a prescription that had been faxed in, which she just couldn't locate. Sam waved over my shoulder at the line forming behind me, "hi people!" he called, "Mama, people! HI people!" I didn't dare turn around because I was afraid of how many "people" were the line now.
Then he got down and did his new walk, a giant side step from side to side, which luckily the "people" were amused by. Thank God he wasn't screaming Sam, but cute entertainer guy.
We then got to drive two towns over to my doctor, where he entertained the waiting room, while I double-checked that the prescription had been sent (it had), but they don't answer phones on Saturday, so I had to go there to find out.
We have been really trying to keep him in a routine and get out and about with him (even if it's playing with keys at Daddy's office), despite everyone feeling crappy. With my super-duper doses of antibiotics (4 pills together on day 1?), hopefully I will feel better soon.
Since we didn't track down the medication till this afternoon, I didn't get to take my horse-size dose until around dinner time. Chris went to the Bruins game, and I plodded through the nighttime routine in a medicated haze, feeling slightly dizzy and hoping Sam would be in his crib before I potentially passed out. I finally got a very hyper, very tolerant little guy down to bed. He won't know what to do when everyone is back on their feet!
Times like this make me think of how lucky we really are. At the hospital getting a lung x-ray yesterday, I saw so many little tikes getting carried into the ER by their parents, and a little girl who was a patient there. I think of a colleague, Danielle, who passed away last year from cancer, how I imagine that she lived with the pain day-to-day while she worked until months before her death. I think of families who have lost their dads or moms, watched them suffer. This is all a minor inconvenience to us, and it is taxing enough. Finding the strength to get through a long-term or terminal illness is just something I can't imagine contending with. Hoping for healthy days ahead for everyone.
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Life & Loss
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