ENTRY 6: Nothing to do with weight.

This entry has nothing to do with weight. It has everything to do with my life though. My life has forever changed. The world is a little more empty than it was when I went to bed last night. My grandfather has left us.

My grandfather was one of my favorite people growing up. Why? Because he never told me no. One of my second favorite people growing up, my dad. Why? Because he also rarely told me no. I've never liked that word and, I still loath it! As a matter of fact I once told my mom, who did tell me no, "Don't say me no!"

I was the first grandchild on my Dad's side. I pretty much got away with anything. Ok, I did get away with anything. Most of my memories of my grandpa revolve around food. Every Thanksgiving grandpa made brown sugar glazed carrots which I now make every Thanksgiving. He taught me how to cook them. We would stop at Cracker Barrel every time we headed out to the camp grounds and once we got there we cook around the campfire. My number one favorite memory of my grandpa was his cheese sandwiches. This was the recipe:

White Bread
Miracle Whip - but never scrape the leftover Miracle Whip off the knife on to the rim of the container!!
Lettuce from the special green Tupperware container
American Cheese from the Deli counter
*Dad always made sure to triangle the sandwich and put the chips in the middle of the two halves.

One bag of Regular Lays

One Can of Coca Cola

It doesn't count if you don't follow the recipe exactly! This is and will always be my go to comfort!!

There is a famous and slightly over used phrase that says, "You don't know what you got till it's gone." I always knew I loved my grandpa but I'm not sure I knew how much until now. Grandpa is the first dear person in my life that I have lost. No, I didn't call him everyday and I didn't get to see him much since I moved to Seattle but I always knew he was there. I knew that if I called he would answer the phone. I knew that any time there was a family function he would be there to support me. He even came to my baby shower this summer when I came back to Chicago. Now that security is gone. I know that when I go to Grandma's he will not be there to answer the door and he will not be there to walk me out to the door. My grandpa was a man of few words. Most of the time I just liked to sit by him.

This week I watched how being strong willed can be a double edged sword. It got grandpa where he was in life by never giving up through his trials but I also watched he fought death and refused to get up. Just yesterday he tried get out of bed. He could barely talk but as he pulled his cancer ridden body up off the bed he said, "I need to get out of here. I want to go home." He couldn't have walked if he tried. It was terrible to watch because you knew that in his mind he was still 25 and had so much he wanted to live to see but his poor body just couldn't keep going anymore. It had done all it could and was checking out. I watched as death overwhelmed and consumed a the body of a person who did not want to go. Death is an ugly thing that doesn't care about your race, gender or religion. It is merciless and heartless.

I've heard people around me say a lot that, "He's happy now. He's not in pain. He's gone to a better place where you'll see him again." I think that people say that to medicate the pain they feel. If we were all honest with ourselves we don't know what REALLY happens after death. If we all knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that there was a Heaven and we were going there no one would be afraid of death. There would be no need for faith. Faith is simply belief that is not based on proof. My Grandpa loved God and I know for a fact that if there is definitely a Heaven after death that Grandpa IS there. I hurt for grandpa because I know he was scared. He always struggled with his faith. He believed in God but he wasn't sure God believed in him.

I struggle with Grandpas death because I know he fought it out of fear and sadness. Had he felt complete and happy looking back on his life I would probably be ok but I will always remember his death as restless. I know they say time heals and I hope that's true as we learn to live with a new sense of "normal".



Dad and Grandpa

ENTRY 5: A one of a kind art piece

Ok, so I'm a little behind. Last Tuesday I made it to the gym! Yep, I climbed the wall and conquered it! It was awesome!! My goal was to do a light walk on the elliptical. Nothing big, no expectations means no disappointments. I end up running 2.1 miles with a 10 warm up and a 5 minute cool down to equal a total of 30 minutes. I did a VERY quick set of chest presses, 5 sets of 10 and biked for 2+ miles. I felt great and best of all I wasn't even achy and sore the next day! It was the best! All I could think of was Jace, and how I was being a healthy example to him! It felt amazing!! I can't wait to get back. Unfortunately, it has been a busy week and I haven't made it back but I am shooting for tomorrow!!

Here's some of my workout tunes among MANY more:
Boom Boom Pow - Black Eyed Peas
This is why I'm hot - Mims
Snap yo fingers - Lil Jon
LoveGame - Lady Gaga
Supermassive Black Hole - Muse
Imma be - Black Eyed Peas
Sweet Dreams - Beyonce
Run this Town - Jay-Z
Crank that - Soulja Boy
Walk it out - Unk
Evanescence
P.O.D.
One Time -Justin Bieber
Whatcha Say - Jason Derulo

As I was running I was thinking of a terrible story I heard. A model and former Miss Argentina died from a surgery to have butt implants put in. It was so sad. She was so beautiful as she was.


It got me to thinking about my what I want to look like. I don't have a number in mind that I am working toward. I'm not shooting to see 125 on the scale. As a matter of fact, I don't even own a scale. I know roughly what I weight and that is good enough for me. I tend to obsess over numbers, whether they're about money or weight, I obsess! I am working toward a feeling. That is more important to me than a number. I want to feel comfortable in my clothes and in my body. That is my goal.

As for that model, it reminded me that God made us all unique even if that means we're not all 6'5 120 pounds. I know that God did not make me to be 60 ponds overweight but I also am realistic and content enough to know that I will never look like a Victoria's Secret model. At some point we have to draw a line and separate fiction from reality. Don't misinterpret what I'm saying though. I have nothing against people who have cosmetic surgery. I have quite a few friends who have it done and if I could afford it I'd be under the knife right now rather than blogging! For a lot of us though, like me, that is not an option and I need to be ok with that.

Ephesians 2:10 of the New Living Translation Bible says, "We are God's masterpiece.." I have to remind myself that when I look into the mirror and put myself down that I am putting God and His talent down. I am God's masterpiece and like any fine art it should be appreciated not put down. I have not been taking care of myself like I should, like a good curator at the Louvre would take care of the Mona Lisa. Like any good piece of art it must be cared for and protected. That is what I am attempting to do. I am cleaning up a piece of fine art and learning to preserve it a safe and healthy environment just as you would do for a one of a kind Monet or VanGough.