Author: Emily

Posted on

Delayed

I’m sitting here at Ronald Reagan International Airport, delayed for my return flight back home after a productive work week away from Detroit. What should have been a quick half-hour layover has turned into a nice 2-hour one, thanks to a wonderful winter storm currently hitting the Midwest.

When booking this flight, I didn’t hesitate to pick this airport as a layover since it would have gotten me back at a relatively early time on a Friday evening. However, what I failed to remember was that this airport had played a large part in the circle of my father’s life.

It was at this airport that my Dad had fallen down while rushing to catch a connecting flight … And hit his head. Three weeks — and complaints of a headache the weekend before his hospitalization — later, the whole family found out that the cause of his passing related back to that one fall.

As I sit here at the airport, I can’t help but think of what had happened here in November of 2010. How this one incident had significantly impacted my life. And it makes me sad; so very sad.

It seems so stupid to mourn like this; over a year later. I know that grief has a timeline of its own, yet somehow I feel as if something as simple as a layover shouldn’t affect me so much. A delayed flight shouldn’t cause my eyes to well up.

But it does. And once again, the grief takes over.

Posted on

Grief Bacon

I love bacon.

There, I’ve said it. And I’m not ashamed to admit that the smell of bacon brings back memories of cooking breakfast for my parents when I was in my pre-teenage angst years. You know, back when I was a relatively obedient kid who only wanted to do something nice for her parents.

And the taste …. Oh, the taste! Nothing completes a great breakfast like bacon can. Especially those thick, maple-cured strips that they serve up at Original Pancake House.

I mean after all, there is the saying that nothing can make a vegetarian go pro-meat more than bacon can.

I’m guessing that with all this talk about bacon, you’ve figured out by now that I’m not the healthiest person in the world. And it’s true. I’m hypertensive. I’ve got high cholesterol (no surprise there!). And I’m at high risk for heart disease.

And given the events over the past year, I guess you can say that I’ve been lax at keeping myself healthy. In fact, you could probably say that I went the opposite of healthy. What can I say? I’m an emotional eater.

In fact, I’m not just that; I’m an emotional over-eater. When things get tough or stressful, not only do I munch on chips or chocolate or candy … I over-indulge myself with them. And because of that I’ve gained a significant amount of weight over the past year.

So what does this all have to do about bacon?

Yesterday, at one of Hubby’s work-related events, we had sat with some friends and another couple I had just met for the first time that night. Somehow (and I can’t exactly remember how) the subject turned to bacon. (I mean, really. When does bacon come up in a conversation?!) That’s when I learned that the German word kummerspeck … which is the excess weight one gains from emotional overeating … literally translates to “grief bacon.”

So there you go. Now I have a name for all the weight I’d gained.

But lest you’re worried, Hubby & I have been making efforts to regain our health. First off was joining a gym to make time for some weight training and daily cardio. Second is re-learning to eat healthy again. Third … and this is the most difficult … is maintaining the motivation to keep up with both.

I guess this means I won’t be eating too much bacon in the near future …

Posted on

Search Terms

To the guy (or girl) who stumbled on my blog using the term:

“Hot Girl with Only Apron” …

I hope you found what you were looking for! 🙂

Posted on

Unsettled

It’s Thursday night. And even though I had the evening I had for myself (knowing that Hubby had prior obligations that kept him from staying in tonight), I find myself with nothing to do.

I had planned on knitting all evening, but didn’t feel motivated to do so. I had also planned on cleaning out the closet and dressers to donate more clothes to the Salvation Army; which I only partially finished. Then I tried my hand at playing some online games and didn’t quite feel myself get into the rhythm, so I just gave up. There’s nothing on TV and no new movies to watch on cable.

So here I sit with my laptop on and a blank page beckoning me to type some meaningful words into sentences and sentences into paragraphs. Yet I don’t know exactly what to say. Well, except maybe this:

It’s been a difficult year.

And yet as much as I’m trying to move forward with my life, I somehow can’t seem to take anything bigger than baby steps.

I struggle to remember if it was this hard to “get over” my failed IVF — the loss of a total of three “would-be” babies — as it is to “get over” the death of my father. The lines are so blurred these days. But I do know I’m in the same place that I was close to five years ago when I pretty much gave up hope of ever having biological children of my own.

Oh yes, I’m in that deep dark space below. And it sucks.

I’m not sure if these feelings are magnified because of an upcoming anniversary date this Saturday or not. What I do know is that this restless, unsettled feeling is very unnerving. And I wish it would just go away. But somehow I just know that it’s only going to get worse before it gets better.

So if you got a moment … and I truly don’t mean to be such a pity-party right now … but if you can spare a few seconds, could you say a quick prayer or a positive thought my way just so I can make it through the next few days? Because I could really use some bloggie love right about now.