LENT

Where have I been? Coping with life one day at a time I guess...
Don't worry I am not depressed, just a little challenged in the sadness and suffering department.

The last few weeks have been a whirlwind of emotion.

On March 22nd my uncle Russ peacefully passed away in his home. The family was shocked to discover the news the next day when he didn't show up to babysit his beloved grandson. He went the way we all pray we could...on the couch with a remote in one hand, glasses in the other, and a cup of coffee standing by. His wife passed away just 2 years ago from breast cancer, now leaving my cousins without parents. It was a busy weekend for us so I was only able to drive up to Pittsburgh in one day to pay my respects at his wake. It was great to see the whole family but also a fresh reminder of how we have become so broken. I feel that Russ, like me, was one of the few in the family that still talked to everyone...now I am afraid there are only a few left. Its a burden and a blessing that I rarely share my thoughts on here. My cousin Scott wrote a lovely Eulogy that I wanted to share in hopes you can be praying for him and his family:

It’s essentially an impossible assignment to summarize the life of someone who meant the world and more to you in just a few short paragraphs. The only thing that makes the task any easier is the fact that Russell William Pasquini, my Dad, was the exact same lighthearted, truly authentic, unfailingly humble and quietly supportive soul to every single person he met throughout his 64 years on this earth.

He really earned the title of World’s Greatest Dad, and had the t-shirt to prove it. There are pages and pages of compliments I could write about the Old Man, but the one that would float to the top is that he was always, always there when we needed him; he was the steady hand and the voice of calm in our family. I remember very distinctly losing my cool sixteen years ago in the car with my Dad on the way to take my driver’s license test for the 3rd time, after having failed it twice already by means of parallel parking. He made me pull the car over, looked me in the eye and said flatly, “You’ve never quit anything in your life, so don’t start now.” Unfortunately for the rest of the driving world, his pep talk did the trick. Eight years ago, walking into my brother’s rehearsal dinner, I turned to my Dad and asked him what he was planning on saying in his toast. Having no prior experience as a Father-of-the-Groom, he was pretty surprised to find out that he was expected to stand up in front of the crowd and deliver a few prepared words. Twenty minutes later, he stood up and gave one of the most articulate, heartfelt toasts I’ve ever heard. In fact, just four months ago, he gave an encore performance in Chicago the night before my own wedding. He had logged countless hours as a babysitter to Ava & Decklan with great pleasure, and more recently, spent a week and a half babysitting me in Chicago after I had surgery on my knee. He was our rock.

My Dad was also a deeply devoted husband for 41 years. After meeting my Mom on a blind date when he was 18 years old, he stood by her side for 39 years as a husband. And after she lost her battle to breast cancer in January 2009, he spent the last 2 demonstrating his devotion by keeping her memory vibrantly alive and filling many of the roles she had played so successfully for our family. Before my Mom died, you would basically have to bribe the guy to take a picture, let alone get him to smile in one. Every ride my parents gave me to the airport following a visit home would end with a long hug from my Mom and a warm handshake from my Dad. And for decades, my Mom fought a lonely and often fruitless battle to get her husband to eat better and stop smoking. But after she died, my Dad didn’t hesitate to pick up the torch. He quickly amassed a vast library of digital photos of him playing with the grandkids, visiting Rachel & I in Chicago, and soaking up the Florida sun with his sister – a big smile on his face in every one. I was slightly taken aback to depart with a clumsy hug from my Dad when I flew back to Chicago after my Mom’s funeral, and every visit home since, but I’d admit to being downright shocked when my Dad accomplished his goal of losing 100 lbs before slipping on a tux for my wedding four months ago.

My Dad certainly made the most of each day over the past two years, golfing with friends a lot more often, visiting family across the country and completing repairs around the house that had sat on a “To Do” list for far too long before he retired. But despite all of the smiling pictures and story telling, I think everyone who knew my Dad best realized that he was walking wounded without my Mom. And 2 years, 2 months and 2 weeks after she died, my Dad finally succumbed to a broken heart. Much earlier than any of us would have preferred, but he was never one to keep my Mom waiting too long.

In the nearly 12,0000 days that I’ve been alive, I’ve only had to live 4 of them without my Dad, so to be totally honest with you, I’m not quite sure how to do it. But I know what he would do – he’d make sure to smile a lot more, take a picture of every happy moment he could, and remind people often of the thousands of great memories we have together.

...We rolled into Manassas quite late that night but with the excitement to wake up and attend my dear friend Maria's wedding! She is one of 4 of us girls from high school that called ourselves the "fab four" (AKA BFFs.) It is always a special moment when the 4 of us are together and we get an updated picture. The funny thing is that one of us is usually preggo in those pics...lets hope the next time it is Maria and not Erin, lol J/K! She married an incredible man, Landon, and I couldn't be happier for them. The scary thing about the wedding was that I was the cantor, and my voice gave out just seconds after singing the Ave Maria. By the time I got to the reception I had full out laryngitis and remained mute for about a week!

Also during the reception I had some quick onset of flu symptoms. By the time we reached the hotel I was in full out rigors, body aches, and chills. Not good. You know I am sick if I choose to go to bed above catching up with my dear friend Erin who was in town from CA. *sigh* I miss her. We spent the next day catching up with my family which was a lot of fun. The highlight for me was the chicken and waffles I devoured at IHOP for brunch...yum. Skip forward about a week in bed for me, followed by pink eye, resulting in me depleting whatever PTO I had left in my work bank. Now C has the same bug. I am praying John does not get it. We need a healthy family NOW!

Finally my poor Grandma is now in the hospital for the 3rd time this last month. If you could keep her in your prayers that would be great. It is very hard for me to see her suffering, knowing I could take really good care of her if I were just in the place to bring her home, which I am not. I know that her days on this earth are limited but she keeps surprising me at how strong and stubborn her body and mind are. I am at peace with her passing soon, but I am not at peace with her suffering. Hospice is starting to be on the mind, but we will see where this goes.

I know this is just a rut in life, and that things will look up. I find it pretty symbolic and comforting that we are in the season of Lent, meaning I have the resurrection and all its promises to look forward too.