So where we last left off was yesterday mid-morning. From that point on I pretty much ate all day
like a crazy woman, and then got changed into my dress for the funeral.
Oh wait, one second before that I did this on Instagram.
Because seriously that is one of the best quotes I have
EVER, EVER read. So true and so
amazing. And then I changed into my
dress for the funeral. By that time it
was hot and I was tired and alas, left work a few minutes early to make it to
my mom’s to carpool to the funeral. Can we talk about funerals for a
second. They are generally speaking
awful… why is that? Shouldn’t they be
fun, or a celebration of life? I would
like mine to be a fun party to celebrate the kick-ass life I led. Of course
this means I need to live a kick-ass life but that really is the plan I am
working on right now. Let it be known
publically that if I die tomorrow I want a giant party honoring my life. Oh and a run… make them all run. HA HA, okay
maybe not a run. But a party for sure.
This particular funeral was inside a small country
church. With NO A/C on a very hot day
with a bunch of people packed in it. Up a
very long and twisty windy road where I realized upon traveling to that I did
not drink enough water throughout the day and I felt completely dehydrated
which meant light-headed which meant nauseous in the car. Yes, I get motion sick far too easily. It’s my tummy flaw. So I was already feeling the signs of it all
and then you cram us into this tiny building where we sit to roast. And then it’s
a big catholic ordeal so its lots of stand up, sit down. Stand up, sit
down. I think I might have been perceived
as rude but I sat in the back of the church and was incredibly disinterested
because mostly I was trying to not pass out.
Plus I am not going to lie the entire thing was all a formality.
Let me explain. This was my grandma’s funeral. This was my mom’s mom. I adore my mom. That is not secret or
surprise. When my grandpa died 2 months ago it was hard. I loved my grandpa. My mom adored her dad. We all had a very good relationship. It was really sad. My grandma was not a nice lady. The entire time I was growing up I don’t
recall her ever being nice or loving.
And all the stories I ever heard about my mom growing up in regards to
her mother were bad as well. How my
grandma definitely had favorites amongst her 8 children and my mom was definitely
not one of them. It is hard to actively
mourn for someone you thought wasn’t that nice. Pretty much your entire
life. I was not that per say for my
grandma but instead for my mom and her brothers and sisters. This certainly was not as emotional overall
of a service as my Grandpa’s. The thing
is, the actual service or church crap was pretty terrible. It goes like this: here is a reading of the
lord. Here is a song, everyone open up a
book and try to sing along to some babble that doesn’t mean anything to you,
here is another reading of the lord, another song, another reading, another
song. It seemed to go on forever. None
of it having any real reference to my grandma.
Eventually we did get to a eulogy of her life and I honestly
didn’t know who the hell they were talking about. I know you are not supposed to say anything
but lovely things during a service and I get that and that’s cool but it’s like
the woman they were describing is not the stories I’ve heard my whole
life. There were stories about big epic
meals my grandma cooked. How she loved to bake and cook. No less than 5 or 6 references to different
foods she loved to cook and eat. I can
honestly say that in my entire life I have never heard a story about a big
giant family meal that happened. And I
hang out a lot with my mom and aunts. I
was like, okay, that’s cool. And then
there were so many references to essentially her life being all about
food. How if you wanted to make her
happy bring her Kentucky Fried Chicken.
I kind of shook my head. And then
something about her favorite thing to do was to go out to Chinese dinner. I was like, wow. Why are there a million references to eating
in this eulogy? It was disturbing honestly.
During my Grandpa’s entire eulogy there was not a single reference of
food.
And I literally thought, holy shit, why on earth are they
talking about her entire life as a giant menu or meal? No wonder she was grossly overweight as are a
lot of her children. They were doomed
from the start and it trickles down to the next generation. And it suddenly hit
me, I have been fighting this genetic and
learned behavior my entire life. I am
fighting hard against what is clearly a very difficult and losing battle for
most everyone. Food clearly is the sub
context of my entire extended family.
This is not an issue for Chris and his family. He did not grow up with every family
gathering being about food or with food being the reward or treat for any sort
of life accomplishment or depressed moment for that matter. There is no wonder our relationships with
food are so different. He has and has
always had a very healthy relationship with food where he has never used it as
anything other than fuel for his body, and occasionally eating something because
it tastes good but I am certain he’s never binge ate in his life. And then there is me, who has to fight tooth
and nail against it. I see part of the
reasons why in one simple eulogy.
It disturbed me to my core to be honest. And it was right there in that moment where I thought, holy
shit, I want my life to be about so much
more than food. I want my eulogy to read
something to the effect of here was one bad-ass, kick-ass, strong independent female
who wasn’t afraid to live her life. She
loved to run, and be outside and travel.
She ran marathons, half marathons until she was old and gray. Not and I paraphrase quote the eulogy, “due
to health restrains (i.e., she was too fat) in her later life she wasn’t able
to get around or go outside much” I want
my eulogy to say she remained active and healthy and ran races until she
died. These are lessons that life has taught
me. I want my eulogy to talk of all the
amazing adventures I had in life. All
the places I went, the things I saw, the life I lived and was not afraid to
do. I know in my heart there are a
million adventures still out there waiting for me. Things I haven’t even dreamed of yet. I know aside from running a marathon that
while I can’t quite think of it yet that there is undoubtable even cooler
things in my future. I love myself and
my life and my health not because it makes me look better, but because it makes
me live an amazing life. It gives me the
opportunities to not be afraid to live the way I want. And that right there is the reason I do any
and all of this. It is far beyond vanity
at this point in my life. It’s about
winning at life. And leaving behind the
most kick-ass eulogy possible. End of
rant.
After the service where I somehow did manage to not pass out
we got in the car and drove to the cometary to bury her and then back to the
church for a gathering in the hot basement.
Let me tell you for a second I had a mental moment where I had to fight
with all my might to remain in control.
What I mean is this. The entire
spread was cookie after glorious cookie.
Lots of delicious varieties including my favorite frosted sugar cookies. I might have almost hypervenalated when I saw
them. My brain said oh shit, I’m in
trouble here. Next to the cookies were
varies slices of different kinds of pie.
OMG. Control. Control. I tried to breathe. Do you want one? Someone asked me. Yes, that is the problem my brain said. And not just one, I want every single
god-damned cookie on that spread. It
didn’t help that I was starving. “NO NO
NO” I told myself. No way. Not doing it. Can’t. Just can’t. I scooped up some chunks of watermelon that
were present, thank God for them. And
got a cup of coffee. I was going to
remain in control of this situation. By
this point it was late in the day and we were tired and had to get home so we
honestly didn’t stay long.
Every second I sat in that church basement was a total testament
to mind over matter. Do NOT eat the
cookies. Don’t look at the cookies. Don’t
watch all the people eating cookies. Or pie.
Or the baked muffin pastries people were downing. You don’t need
them. You are better than that. But I did it. I survived. Yes, I could have ate a cookie, I am fully
aware. But would it really have been
just 1? I don’t know the answer to
that. And I felt better not having
touched them. I’m working way too hard
on my goals right now for that. I don’t
need it. I don’t like the way it makes me feel.
How sluggish my body gets as a result, so no, no thank you. I shall
pass. And that was that my friends. We got in the car and drove away and I didn’t. Not even a little bit.
We stopped for Subway on the way home and I had real food
and felt very proud of myself as a result.
Some days it’s easier than others.
As a result I woke up this morning feeling very happy and confident and
in control. I can do this. All of this.
In 49 days, 7 weeks to the day I shall be boarding a plane for Maui and
I am in total control. I don’t believe
in between now and then I won’t fuck up and binge again I am sure I will at
some point. I won’t be entirely perfect,
that’s impossible and honestly I wouldn’t want to be. I deserve treats. Speaking of that I did have a cookie at home
last night. A single cookie. One that was controlled and regulated in my environment.
And it was delicious and I didn’t feel guilt at all. Oatmeal raisin cookie. I’m not trying to deny myself treats or
cookies. Just the giant crazy spread of
them that leads to cookie after cookie.
So yes, this morning I felt great about myself and that was the real
reward and take away from yesterday.
Live my God Damned life to the fullest so that I have a eulogy I’d be
proud of.
And then this entire morning was spent driving in the
car. Yup all morning up to Portland and
around and back down. But I did stop at
the Coach store because I have been wanting a new pair of clear sunglasses for
Maui and these little babies are my reward for my awesome-ness as of late. Okay, I don’t need an excuse but seriously I
love them.
And that leads me to right here, right now. And I’m happy and glad it’s Friday afternoon
and the weekend is almost upon me. I
have half marathon number 40 tomorrow. Can
you believe it will be number 40?
Seriously, I still remember what the first one felt like and where we
are at 40. I feel like that is kind of a
big deal. Not as big of a deal as say 50
or running a full marathon. But still 40
is pretty impressive actually. Yeah, I’ve
run 40 half marathons. That sounds like
a grand start to an epic eulogy already.
Alas it is supposed to be like record breaking hot this weekend and I am
not thrilled about an 8 AM half start tomorrow but oh well, I run slow, who
cares. At the end of it is the knowledge
that I finished 40 of these bad boys to date.
I don’t have any major plans for Sunday just yet, but I know I want to
be active and healthy. I can’t sit
around all day and do nothing, that is just not in me. I am sure I will come up with something of
value!
Have an amazingly epic, eulogy inspiring kind of
weekend. Okay, let’s just settle for
staying cool and having peace and love in your heart.
No comments:
Post a Comment