So yesterday was Thanksgiving and I thought to myself...what a perfect yet cliche reason to post! Here it goes - several people, places and things that I'm grateful for:
10. My 'hood. I was raised in Queens and I don't think I'd have it any other way. If you were to visit my neighborhood, you'd probably think to yourself, "Man, I should have packed my bulletproof vest!" but the block I grew up on is home to countless memories of my brother and I learning to ride our bikes, where we first put our hands behind a car wheel, walked to school, had snowball fights with my parents, played hazardous childhood games, etc. I wouldn't trade it for the world.
9. Transportation, especially, my car. An overlooked, yet necessary, commodity. When I was a teenager (ok, my late 20's...) I didn't think I'd ever need a car. I'd just walk everywhere I go or take the bus or train! RIGHT. Now I can't picture my life without it. As a teacher, I carry a TON of bags, and as a person, I like the comfort of A/C or a heated space that I don't have to wait for. Thank you, DMV! (Shout out to my fam who encouraged me to drive!) Can't knock the buses and trains, either. I can always depend on mass transit when I revert to my old philosophies! (or can't find my GPS...LOL)
8. My job. I love it. Yes, there are times that I want to pull my hair out, but to put it simply, I can wake up feeling pretty crappy and enter work feeling brand new.
7. Technology. Sure, it could be pretty annoying, especially when my phone loses a call, or sending a text takes forever. Or even when your age, residence, photo and current work location is displayed for your local psycho to see. But, I've come to really appreciate the convenience of browsing the Internet for a rare music track, watching a movie with two clicks of a mouse, or finding out new info through websites and other blogs. Now, do I think it'll be the cause of the world's debacle? YES.
6. Music. 'Nuff said.
5. Laughter. I don't know if it's because I think my dad is the funniest person in the WORLD, but I think the ability to make people laugh is truly a gift. Plus, who doesn't love to laugh??
4. Education. I'm not just talking about formal education, but life's lessons as well. I think people can get as many diplomas as they want, but having common sense is absolutely priceless.
3. A positive attitude. Ok, I'm allowed to get a little narcissistic here. =) I think a positive attitude can be a life-changer. I've had my share of challenges in life so far, just like you. The negative route seems just 'round the corner and I've been guilty of taking it. But, I was fortunate enough to have parents teach me that with hard work and the right attitude, you can go pretty far AND have peace of mind. To me, that is the epitome of positivity.
2. Books. *NERD ALERT* As a wee girl in the first grade, I used to max out my library card by taking out 25 books at a time. I knew since then that they can take you anywhere.
1. Love. I am so blessed with the amount of love that I've received in my life so far. More than I deserve at times. From unconditional love by my parents and brother to that of extended family, friends and a very significant other, I couldn't be luckier.
'Hope your Thanksgiving was glorious!
xoxo andrea
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Friday, November 25, 2011
Thursday, November 3, 2011
Glass Empty
I just heard that a former student of mine was killed over his iPhone.
His iPhone.
It's things like this that has changed me from the person I used to be. I wish I could say that I was the same girl that I was just 5 or so years ago. The truth is, I've begun to realize that it's close to impossible to live a 100% worry-free, happy-go-lucky life. What I've found to be the most difficult struggle is wiping the slate clean so that I'm not jaded anymore.
The thing is, the easiest thing to do is to succumb to the negativity. Let it break you. But I refuse to do that. I refuse to believe that life is just full of disappointment, heartbreak, loss and sorrow. I refuse to believe that there isn't any good left in the world. I refuse to believe that people are truly evil.
But why do these bad things happen? I find that the suffering of children is the worst of them all. Why do young people die? Why are there so many starving children in the world? Why do some parents treat their children like shit while others are praying for just one healthy child?
I don't get it.
His iPhone.
It's things like this that has changed me from the person I used to be. I wish I could say that I was the same girl that I was just 5 or so years ago. The truth is, I've begun to realize that it's close to impossible to live a 100% worry-free, happy-go-lucky life. What I've found to be the most difficult struggle is wiping the slate clean so that I'm not jaded anymore.
The thing is, the easiest thing to do is to succumb to the negativity. Let it break you. But I refuse to do that. I refuse to believe that life is just full of disappointment, heartbreak, loss and sorrow. I refuse to believe that there isn't any good left in the world. I refuse to believe that people are truly evil.
But why do these bad things happen? I find that the suffering of children is the worst of them all. Why do young people die? Why are there so many starving children in the world? Why do some parents treat their children like shit while others are praying for just one healthy child?
I don't get it.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Live. Love. Hope.
For the past five months, I've been constantly thinking about a possible transition from my last post. The truth is, while my student's death shook me, I couldn't really comprehend what happened, or what was to come.
We don't get to choose the people that come into our lives. I have to say that I've truly been blessed with the greatest family that God could have provided. My father, for instance, is a strong person. I grew up watching him do everything from replace the light bulb in my bedroom to repairing whole car engines. He has the best sense of humor, even taught me certain aspects of cooking, and, to this day, provides the simplest solution to any problem that I have. I don't think there's a person in this world that is like my father, can compare to the emotional strength of my mother, or has the genuine heart of my brother.
However, in my thirty-plus years on this planet, there are people who have come in and out of my life that have taught me lessons along the way as well.
Since I could remember, Sid was my father's best friend. As a child, I never appreciated his wisdom, sense of humor, or zest for life. I didn't realize the friendship that he and my father shared - or the fact that they were showing my brother and I what real friendship was. Sid would go on month-long vacations and call my Dad as soon as he returned. Every project that my father had, Sid was there and vice versa. Summers were spent in our garage or Sid's house.
The thing was, to us, Sid and my father seemed so opposite. For one, Sid was over six feet tall, while my father stands at 5'6". Moreover, Sid loved to travel abroad and try new things. For the past 33 years, my father has the same haircut. And with the exception of two or three states, has never left Queens. However, despite their differences, Sid and my father were simply there for each other - as true friends were.
It was only in my 20's did I see the person that Sid was. When I started painting, I remember how impressed he was with a simple sketch that I had on display in our tiny basement. As soon as I became a teacher, Sid gave me plenty of advice as a former teacher himself, and looked at me with the same sense of pride as my own family did. He also encouraged me to travel - see the world for all it has to offer - while I was still young. The fact of the matter is, Sid had a sincere love for life...and he wanted everyone to feel the same way.
Three years ago, Sid was diagnosed with Glioblastoma - the most aggressive form of brain cancer. I don't think we took it as seriously as we should have - after all, one very similar trait that he shared with my father was strength and resilience. He also had everything that he wanted out of life - including his true soul mate, Cheryl. Also, Sid seemed to have a positive attitude about everything, including his illness. He made jokes even when he could barely open his eyes or move his mouth. We all believed that he could make it out of anything.
As time passed, we saw Sid as we never thought we'd see him. My brother and I watched our parents visit every weekend until there were no weekends left. We watched Cheryl laugh through tears, as though for both herself and Sid. He watched life as he once knew it disappear around him, holding on for as long as he possibly could.
It was only until his death in July do I think my father realized that his best friend was truly gone. At his funeral services, people were lined up, ready to talk about the great person that Sid was. My mother, brother and I told him to speak, or perhaps we could speak on his behalf. My father, being the person that he was, quietly shook his head "no," stayed seated, hands folded, strong and grounded as always. I often wonder what went through his head on that day - and everyday.
Unlike Sid, and even my student, who unfortunately, both knew their fate to some extent, a childhood friend, Corhen, suddenly passed away last Friday. He was only 29 years old - and one of the nicest people I've ever met. I just saw him at a friend's barbecue about a week ago, not knowing that it would be the last time I'd see him. When I heard the news of his death, I simply did not believe it. I thought my friend had the wrong person, or perhaps he was in a hospital, recovering. When his death was confirmed, I began thinking of all the times I saw him at my friend's house, laughing, dancing and hugging everyone he knew, filling the room with positivity and love.
In 2008, my best friend suddenly lost his father. I received the phone call on an early Saturday morning and didn't understand what he was saying through his tear-filled voice. Here was a man who made me feel like family as soon as I stepped into his home since I was 14 years old. I just didn't get it.
I don't think I'll ever understand why these things happen. I've recently witnessed four deaths that just didn't make any sense - three of them in the span of five months. As my mother says, is it because their purpose in this world has been fulfilled? Or, as others put it, maybe Heaven only takes the good? I'm beginning to think that it might also be small signs, telling us that time is borrowed and life is merely a fleeting moment.
In the meantime, I have no choice but to remember those that have passed for what they have given me - and that, is hope.
Hope in finding true happiness.
Hope in having the ability to give and receive love.
And most importantly, hope in making today better than yesterday - because in the end, that's all we really have.
We don't get to choose the people that come into our lives. I have to say that I've truly been blessed with the greatest family that God could have provided. My father, for instance, is a strong person. I grew up watching him do everything from replace the light bulb in my bedroom to repairing whole car engines. He has the best sense of humor, even taught me certain aspects of cooking, and, to this day, provides the simplest solution to any problem that I have. I don't think there's a person in this world that is like my father, can compare to the emotional strength of my mother, or has the genuine heart of my brother.
However, in my thirty-plus years on this planet, there are people who have come in and out of my life that have taught me lessons along the way as well.
Since I could remember, Sid was my father's best friend. As a child, I never appreciated his wisdom, sense of humor, or zest for life. I didn't realize the friendship that he and my father shared - or the fact that they were showing my brother and I what real friendship was. Sid would go on month-long vacations and call my Dad as soon as he returned. Every project that my father had, Sid was there and vice versa. Summers were spent in our garage or Sid's house.
The thing was, to us, Sid and my father seemed so opposite. For one, Sid was over six feet tall, while my father stands at 5'6". Moreover, Sid loved to travel abroad and try new things. For the past 33 years, my father has the same haircut. And with the exception of two or three states, has never left Queens. However, despite their differences, Sid and my father were simply there for each other - as true friends were.
It was only in my 20's did I see the person that Sid was. When I started painting, I remember how impressed he was with a simple sketch that I had on display in our tiny basement. As soon as I became a teacher, Sid gave me plenty of advice as a former teacher himself, and looked at me with the same sense of pride as my own family did. He also encouraged me to travel - see the world for all it has to offer - while I was still young. The fact of the matter is, Sid had a sincere love for life...and he wanted everyone to feel the same way.
Three years ago, Sid was diagnosed with Glioblastoma - the most aggressive form of brain cancer. I don't think we took it as seriously as we should have - after all, one very similar trait that he shared with my father was strength and resilience. He also had everything that he wanted out of life - including his true soul mate, Cheryl. Also, Sid seemed to have a positive attitude about everything, including his illness. He made jokes even when he could barely open his eyes or move his mouth. We all believed that he could make it out of anything.
As time passed, we saw Sid as we never thought we'd see him. My brother and I watched our parents visit every weekend until there were no weekends left. We watched Cheryl laugh through tears, as though for both herself and Sid. He watched life as he once knew it disappear around him, holding on for as long as he possibly could.
It was only until his death in July do I think my father realized that his best friend was truly gone. At his funeral services, people were lined up, ready to talk about the great person that Sid was. My mother, brother and I told him to speak, or perhaps we could speak on his behalf. My father, being the person that he was, quietly shook his head "no," stayed seated, hands folded, strong and grounded as always. I often wonder what went through his head on that day - and everyday.
Unlike Sid, and even my student, who unfortunately, both knew their fate to some extent, a childhood friend, Corhen, suddenly passed away last Friday. He was only 29 years old - and one of the nicest people I've ever met. I just saw him at a friend's barbecue about a week ago, not knowing that it would be the last time I'd see him. When I heard the news of his death, I simply did not believe it. I thought my friend had the wrong person, or perhaps he was in a hospital, recovering. When his death was confirmed, I began thinking of all the times I saw him at my friend's house, laughing, dancing and hugging everyone he knew, filling the room with positivity and love.
In 2008, my best friend suddenly lost his father. I received the phone call on an early Saturday morning and didn't understand what he was saying through his tear-filled voice. Here was a man who made me feel like family as soon as I stepped into his home since I was 14 years old. I just didn't get it.
I don't think I'll ever understand why these things happen. I've recently witnessed four deaths that just didn't make any sense - three of them in the span of five months. As my mother says, is it because their purpose in this world has been fulfilled? Or, as others put it, maybe Heaven only takes the good? I'm beginning to think that it might also be small signs, telling us that time is borrowed and life is merely a fleeting moment.
In the meantime, I have no choice but to remember those that have passed for what they have given me - and that, is hope.
Hope in finding true happiness.
Hope in having the ability to give and receive love.
And most importantly, hope in making today better than yesterday - because in the end, that's all we really have.
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