My first Christmas without Santa

This was the last photo I took of my mother. This time last year my mother got the flu. Since she had no immune system at the time due to her illness, it was very dangerous. I remember my father and I bringing her to the hospital. We spent the day with her there secretly praying the whole time they would let her come home for Christmas Eve. I put Christmas music on my iPod and sat next to her bed listening to it and watching videos with her and smiling. That was the thing about my mother, no matter how she felt, she was always smiling.

They did let her come home, and even though she was still very sick and in a lot of pain she continued masking it with her smiles and positive outlook. This photo was taken Christmas morning, 2012. She would probably strangle me for posting a picture of her in her robe! But the reason I had to post this is because her face illuminates her personality so perfectly in this photo. To my mother, the joy was rarely about the gift itself, but always entirely about the act - our family, a friend, just being there. Making time to be present. She was always so giving. And when this was returned she was so grateful, so happy, so excited. This photo epitomizes my mother.

Writing this today is almost impossible. My hands are actually shaking as I do. I still can't believe that she is gone. It took me months to actually say it out loud, but I still can't say it without crying.

She was the best person I knew. She was the definition of class. I remember her doctor came in the last week we were with her in the hospital and told me, "Your mother was the most graceful person I've ever met."

The last nine months have been the hardest months of my life. They have also been the most life-changing. I quit my job at the Practising Law Institute in Manhattan. I moved out of Manhattan. I moved in with my father for three months, and in just six days from now I am moving to the Virgin Islands. Since I have been home I've been in and out of the country, from Europe to Jamaica and even a trip to Tennessee. I've barely unpacked my life from the city and have six days to pack for my new life on an island. It's been exciting, challenging, and a little scary to think about everything that has already happened and everything that is about to happen.

Last Friday an amazing friend of mine brought me to go see the Long Island Medium. It was an interesting experience to say the least. After leaving everyone asked what I thought of the show. Did I think she was real? Was it all made up? Honestly, I have no idea. That wasn't what I took from it though. I was in a room of three thousand people. What I experienced was three thousand people that have lost someone they loved. Three thousand people that know what it feels like to have your heart ripped out of your chest and to feel like you might not ever have a genuine smile again. I listened to their stories, and admired their strength. If they could be this strong, so could I, right? The medium would walk around during the performance and have people's loved ones "come through" in spirit to communicate with their family or friends in the audience. Someone asked me if I was upset my mom didn't come through, and I honestly was not. You see, I was fortunate enough to have an answer for what happened. Was her passing sooner than I expected? Yes. Was I ready for it? Absolutely not. I lived in a world of denial before my mom died. A world where I thought my mom would actually "kick cancer's ass" and she would never leave me. But I knew what happened. It isn't comforting but at least it is an answer. So many people in that room were searching for answers to what happened to their loved one. My mom didn't need to come through and tell me anything that she hadn't already told me before she had to go. That was the type of woman she was, the one who constantly told her children she loved them. The wife that kissed her husband and danced around with him in the kitchen and loved him unconditionally. She lived. So many people just go through life looking ahead and not always living in the moment and taking advantage of what they had at that moment. My mother was not one of them.

So this Christmas, as painful and hard as it will be, I will smile and be thankful. Thankful for having my family support my move to an island to pursue my passion of photography. Thankful for my friends who have held my hands, kept me laughing, and stuck with me when life got really, really hard. Thankful for the new life I will start in six days. Thankful for having a  mother with the most beautiful heart that taught me to live in the moment, remind those we love how we feel, and to always always smile.

I wish you all a happy holiday filled with ten million smiles and more love than you can handle. Remind yourself that life is short, and hug your friends and family a little tighter this year.

Looking up to her since 1987:

Last Christmas with Mom:

That unconditional love I was telling you about:

Meeting the LI Medium with Lauren:

Panic Mode

Ready for warm weather, 13 days left!

It has arrived. Panic has set in. I've somehow squeezed in some time to update my blog and have decided that writing helps me. It has a therapeutic quality. I also love writing lists. I love to write lists of all of the things I need to do before I leave (IN THIRTEEN DAYS) and move to a new home, to a new life. Specifically, I need to unpack my life from NYC. I need to finish editing my last two fall weddings. I need to think of something to get my dad for Christmas. I need to actually pack for St. John. The list goes on. It's so fun to make lists. I like to make lists and then misplace them. I used to have the same issue when I was younger. I would spend so much time make an amazing birthday card for someone in my family and then hide it somewhere downstairs so they wouldn't see it in my room. Then it would be time to give cards and presents and I would be running around the house in a panic looking for it. I can't tell you how many cards I lost. 

Losing things is terrible. You know what else is terrible? Getting hit with a paintball. Over Thanksgiving weekend a bunch of my friends and I decided it would be "really fun" to go play paintball. We split the teams up by town. That was our first error since the majority of men were from the other town. We got our butts kicked. I remember thinking when it all started, I just don't want to get hit in my right eye. The eye I use to look through the camera lens, the eye that is my only source of income. Naturally I get shot in that eye in the first five minutes. Obviously you are wearing a mask, but still. It is terrifying. It is also extremely scary when the other team is ten times better than yours, and you suddenly realize what a huge baby you are as you hide behind things the whole time covering your head. It's not a great game for the ego, or if you bruise easily. 

Last week's activities were a little less dangerous. I got to go see some of the coolest men in the world, The Piano Guys. My mother's younger sister, and my godmother, had introduced me to these absolutely amazing and talented men a few months ago. Since then I have watched almost all of their music videos. I put them on repeat while I sit in my house chugging coffee and editing. I have attached a video here of one of my favorites. These guys are seriously cool, and you should absolutely check them out. Right this second. Press play. 

You should also check out this one. They actually used a helicopter to get the piano on top of a cliff in Utah. They are just as awesome when you see them in concert too. My aunt brought me to see them last Wednesday night and it was an amazing experience. I felt like a little kid with her as we sat at the edge of the seat listening to them and clapping along. Feeling like a little kid is my favorite thing to do.

This morning when I woke up I definitely felt like a little kid. I looked outside and it was snowing. A lot. I so vividly remembered when I was young and this would happen. I would jump out of bed and run downstairs to ask my mom if it was a snow day. Seventy-five percent of the time it would not be. My excitement would deflate around the room like an untied balloon. Nothing beat a snow day, especially in high school. 

After taking the dog today for a quick walk and returning half frozen, I began to zone out from my work and started only focusing on how much I hate the cold. I opened my email and had a new message from my coworker from NYC. Included in the email she attached her fortune cookie from last night. 

"Now and then it's good to pause in our pursuit of happiness and just be happy." 

Since entering panic mode as I near the end of my stay in Orient, NY, I seemed to have lost track of that. I focus only on moving and starting over. Then I read this fortune. I realized, the cold isn't actually that bad. It's this same cold weather that used to give me those snow days I loved so much. So for the rest of the day, I will be embracing the snow. I have made some hot cocoa and put on a big wool sweater and some nice background music for my editing. 

Thanks for the reminder, cookie. 

Embracing the cold, and the holiday:

Me and Jack wrapping up a really fun wedding, check it here.

Paintball-ers:

The perfect end to a work day. Spiked cider, a gorgeous sunset, and some close friends:

Friendsgiving 2013 with some of my favorite people in the world:

My very creative sister's birthday party favors (obsessed with the mini whisk) 

                                   

Piano Guys! 

Tennessee and Jamaica

The final photo from Europe taken in Trieste, Italy. Trying really hard to look like a world traveler:

Since my last post I have ventured out of my senior citizen lifestyle twice more. I'm not going to lie, while it's been extremely difficult to be home where everything has my mother all over it, it's also been quite comforting and (relatively) relaxing. My life once consisted of waking up at 7:00 a.m. and walking fifteen minutes to the subway, cramming myself into two different subway cars for 30 minutes, spending the day in my cubicle and then crawling into my bed around midnight. Now I wake up each morning at 8:00 a.m. without an alarm, roll out of bed and make some tea, edit photos or drive to a photo shoot, have a glass of wine around 5:00 p.m. with my grandparents down the road, make some dinner for my dad, watch an episode of Modern Family with him, edit some more, and tuck myself in around 10:30 p.m. It's glorious. I mean, I have a pretty large chunk of work to still do before I one-way ticket myself out of here December 30th, but I love what I'm working on. I love what I get to do each day, so it doesn't really feel like work.

The first venture away from my safe haven was to Tennessee. My uncle got married a few weeks ago and my two sisters, my brother, and I got a great deal on a rental house near where the wedding took place. The house was beautiful and overlooking a lake, complete with plenty of rooms and even a pool table. My sisters and I arrived Friday evening just in time for dinner. The first thing I learned about Harriman, Tennessee was that people are not big drinkers. In that they don't really drink at all. We found a pizza place near the house and immediately ordered some beers upon sitting down. A few moments later the waitress came back to alert us it might take a few extra minutes because they have to find beer mugs in the back. This was the first sign. Then I looked around the restaurant. That was the second sign. Almost every person had an extra-large soda or Gatorade with their dinner. The room was dry. So much for blending in.

We stocked up on some essentials (brownie mix and mixers for our adorable bottle of vodka - please see photos below) at Target and headed back to the house for a night of Mad Libs, brownies and cocktails. The next morning our brother had arrived and my sister made a delicious breakfast of mimosas and eggs. Shortly after, I learned my second lesson of the trip. If you are out of shape, don't take a long walk in Harriman. The hills will kill you. Specifically, your derrière. I did not realize this lesson until the following morning when I couldn't move my lower body out of the bed. 

The trip was a nice break. It felt a little like a movie.  Four siblings come together for a family wedding in Tennessee. I need to work on the title, but you get the idea.

My second venture was to Jamaica with my best friend. Even though it poured pretty much the entire first day, the rest of our trip was quite fantastic. We met some girls from London and from Washington DC that we would have dinner with each night. I read an entire book, something I haven't done in five years. I highly recommend Gone Girl. Go get it and read it right now if you haven't. Also, go on Cheap Caribbean's website and book yourself a cheap trip somewhere warm for you and your best friend. You only live once, right? 

The rental house:

The view from the other side:

 First night activities:

More in-shape sisters walking ahead of me:

Adorable bottle of vodka I told you about:

Scene of my uncle's wedding that I photographed:

Me and my siblings at set wedding:

and then Jamaica...

Nicole's brilliant gift for the trip:

and her beautiful artwork:

Love me some infinity pool time:

Cheers!