Katy Forever

I lost my sweet and amazing cousin Katy exactly one week ago, at this very time that night.  I’m still trying to grasp the concept that she’s gone forever.  We had two services for her over the weekend and laid her to rest yesterday afternoon in Ohio.  I wish more of you had been able to meet her.  She was truly something rare.  Here is the piece I wrote, and somehow managed to say, at her funeral on Sunday:

Maya Angelou said, “I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”

I’m Katy’s cousin, Abby.  Katy was born 6 months ahead of me and I met her for the first time when I was just 3 weeks old.  Since then, I haven’t known life without her.  She and I never lived shorter than an eight-hour drive from each other but we always held a special bond.  People say that each time we’d get together, we picked up right where we had left off the previous visit.  I never put much thought into what it was that made it work, but it all seemed very natural and who needs to over analyze when we had a good thing going?  There is more than one photo displayed today of our dance parties with Emily, most memorably to Michael Jackson’s Thriller album, and later evolving into Debbie Gibson’s Electric Youth and anything by Tiffany.  Oh yes, and let’s not forget our fanatical love for New Kids On The Block.  When we were about 12 or 13, Emily got her drivers license.  And so started the dancing and singing in their red Cavalier.  We felt a freedom like no other, and we would roll down the windows and belt out all our favorite songs loudly…and poorly…

While the family went golfing together, we’d hit up the nearest mall and end up with matching clothes every time.  Even last year she and I went shopping and bought two of the exact same shirts and in the same size.  When we were younger we wore our matching clothes on the same day in hopes that people might think we were twins.  Naturally.  Most notably were our ironed-on unicorn shirts that we had made during one of our trips to Florida.  Man we were so cool.  We bought them in sizes a bit too big for us at the time so that we’d maximize our usage.  One of us would always check in with the other before an upcoming visit and confirm, “We’re going to wear our unicorn shirts, right?”  It was certainly my favorite shirt because, for one, it was awesome, but also because it reminded me of that trip to Florida and it kept us connected no matter how far away we were.  It seemed only fitting that I brought it with me to the hospital last month when I first saw her.  She said “Oh wow!” and then commented, “I’m just wondering where mine is.”

When all of us were kids, Emily, Katy, my two brothers and myself always enjoyed playing in Grandma and Grandpa’s backyard.  Emily would help Katy and I put together a supply kit full of bandaids and whatnot and off we’d go into the woods to seek out adventures.  We were nothing if not prepared.  There was a large rock up on a hill in the woods that we would go to each time and climb on.  Once, we found a clothes hanger on a tree branch that we could only get to by climbing up on our special rock.  Katy and I wondered how it got there and what the story was behind it.  How did it end up at our special place?  We left it, but during my next visit we found that it was still there.  By the third trip back to Ohio, we started to look forward to going back to that rock and seeing if the hanger was still there.  It always was!  We would get so excited when we would see it as we climbed up the hill towards it.  In any other situation this would be just a hanger, but to us it was everything.  This hanger stayed on the tree for at least ten years, and there wasn’t one time that we didn’t go check on it.  When Grandma and Grandpa moved away, we couldn’t decide if we should leave it for other kids to find or bring it with us.  Aunt Karen said that we should definitely bring it, and keep it going between us.  Katy said that I should have it first and I kept it in a box.  When she got sick in Missouri and I knew she was going through a tough time, I remembered the hanger and found it right away.  I knew she needed it, and that was the only thing that I could think of doing that would bring me there to her in spirit.  I wrote inspirational quotes on it and mailed to her.  As fate would have it, Aunt Karen was with Katy in Missouri when she opened it.  As the story goes, Karen said “hey!  That looks like the hanger!” and Katy smiled and said knowingly, “It is the hanger”.

Katy paved the way for many of my milestones and taught me lessons about life even from toddler-age.  I always listened to what she said and thought she was so wise.  Now she’s still going first, but I’m choosing to think of this experience as the most important lesson she’ll ever pave the way for.  Be strong, love everyone, and smile, no matter what.  You’ve got a lot to be thankful for.  And be brave, because when God is with you, who could be against you?  And lastly, work on your faith and relationship with God every day.  Don’t stop.

I’ve had almost 30 years of her teaching me, leading the way, and showing me how to live life.  She’s taken all of us as far as she could, but now we have to live with her in our hearts and try to move forward by her example.  It’s no mistake that she has brought us all together in her absence, and I feel like we’ve met a lot of wonderful people in the last few days.  She would want us to keep in touch and be happy together as we have all been connected by her.  We need to help each other move forward in her wisdom.  As so many of us have asked ourselves before, we’ll have to keep asking “What would Katy do?” and be better people for our actions in her grace.  Volunteer to the needy.  Give to your neighbors.  Smile to everyone.  Say “I love and miss you” in each conversation and email.  Band together and help each other get through this.  Remember her legacy.  Never forget her.  And know that she is in heaven with all those who have gone before and she is satisfied with all that she accomplished with her time on earth.

To all of her family members who helped shape her life, including Grandma and her aunts and uncles:  This is a family of doers.  When faced with any adversity, I have always known this family to rise to meet it with unity and action.  This is where Katy learned to fight.  She fought her battle with the intensity and ferociousness of a lion, but passed away with the peace and grace of a lamb.  I hope that one day you can all accept the role you played in helping her to grow and shape that drive to act and to fight the battle with whatever tools you’re given, while keeping gentleness of heart.

To Zach:  Your Aunt Katy was quite the performer when she was your age, always making choreographed dances, songs, plays, and there was even an art gallery once where we charged the adults admission.  You carry this creativity and imagination, the will to perform and make people happy.  We can see her live on in you this way.

To both Zach and Cam:  This is a very tough time and I’m sure it is very confusing.  Just as Aunt Katy has always gone before you providing a fun and loving atmosphere, she’ll continue to go before you, this time smoothing the road ahead to keep you healthy and safe.  She’ll be your angel forever.  We will keep her memory alive by telling stories and we’ll work hard to preserve her love and memory for you.  As for Katy, look for her in the brightest star and know that she’s watching over you every day.

To Emily:  Shine on for her.  Know that we are better to have had so many great years with her to sing with, dance with, shop with, and spend hours and hours talking and otherwise being ridiculous with (which all of the pictures from our childhood can attest to).

To Jason:  This experience has really allowed me to spend a lot of quality time with you recently and get to know you in ways that I never would have before, and for that I am a better person.  You and Katy had a love that turned heads and melted hearts.  She was so fortunate to find you and have you a part of her life.  I can’t help but be amazed at how much she had, even though her life was cut short.  I think that’s the way she would want us to see it, too.

You, Jason, fit into the role of being her coach, always keeping her motivated and thinking ahead to the next plan of action even until the very end.  The two of you together had such a dynamic energy, and just because she’s gone it doesn’t mean that energy dies.  She wants you to use that energy, feel her with you in your heart, and keep going.  Embrace friends when they want to hang out and please try to say “Yes” to more things than you say “No” to in the months ahead.  Continue to live your life fully and whole-heartedly.  And always know that in Katy’s loss, you’ve gained a blanket of family and friends who will not turn their backs and forget you.  You are family and we love you.  We’re here for you and while you’re on this earth you will never be alone.

To all of her friends and family- Your cards, Caring Bridge posts, gifts, and thoughts and prayers meant the world to Katy.  She didn’t fight this battle alone, and she was able to gain strength from each and every one of you here.  While I was with her in Toledo earlier this month, she wanted to write everyone Thank You notes so you would know that she was so touched by the kindness shown.  Unfortunately she was unable to do that, but it must at least be said for her behalf that she loves you and thought the world of your actions.

And one last quote from Maya Angelou (because someone has always said it better before):

“Love life, engage in it, give it all you’ve got.  Love it with a passion, because life truly does give back, many times over, what you put into it.”

I’ve been getting crafty, especially since discovering Pinterest back in October.  While I have gained four permanent walls at work which mean that I now have an office (even if it is the size of a tin can), it needed some personal flare.  It also needed something functional, like a tack board.  So I made one.

It started with a trip to the PTA Thrift Shop and a $6 faded map of Spanish vineyards.  I chose this one for its size and fancy frame:

And the fabric.  Oh, the fabric.  This was discovered in a far corner of the store and 40% off.  Once I found The Fabric, it was game on.  By the way, this is indoor/outdoor fabric, chosen because it’s thicker and has that glossy look that is all “ooh la la.  I’m fancier than regular fabrics at the front of the store.”

The frame had writing on the back.  Aww.  Then I started wondering where Doreen and Michael are now.  Why did their picture from their trip to Spain end up in the PTA Thrift Shop?  What did this trip mean to them?  Are they still together?  And then I heard my mother’s voice in the back of my head saying “Just rip the back apart already!”.  So I did.

After the ripping and the taking apart came the paint.  Since I’m shacking up with the boyfriend I can’t go painting entire rooms dark purple anymore.  Now it becomes an artistic expression stemmed from oppression and gender stereotypes.  Or maybe I just like purple.  I went dark and threw in a few coats of satin finish.

Lots of coats of paint, but it paid off!

I bought foam project board for about $1.29 at Target, but it turns out that the map from the original picture was mounted onto foam board!  And it was thicker than what I bought at Target.  I flipped it over, tightly covered it in fabric and introduced it to my hot glue gun.  Pow!

And because when it’s all over, you have to close it up somehow:  Teeny tiny nails in the frame that have worked pretty well so far!

Ta daaaa!

And look at what Target had for less than $3:  a dozen multi-colored, fun thumb tacks!

And that is that, folks!

I Turned 29, Part 3: Happy birthday, from my perfect family

This is the final installment of my birthday stories, at least for this year.  In other birthday news, I was the recipient of a gift from my older brother last week.  This is scary because generally he doesn’t give me anything for my birthday.  He made up for lost time by pranking me pretty well.  It started with an email earlier that week saying “You are actually turning 30.  Mom and Dad just changed your paperwork for school.  Thought you should know.  Congrats!  baa-boo”.  None of this is ok.  I just turned 29, not 30.  Very funny, Big Brother.  Also important to mention here, “baa-boo” was what I called him when I was little because I couldn’t say brother.

As a psych major I can properly dissect this “baa-boo” reference and tell you that he’s trying to resurrect my long suppressed post-traumatic stress disorder of having survived a tormented childhood.  As big brothers do, he stayed true to his duties and would act nice to me one minute, only to turn around and reveal an ulterior motive which would leave him giggling like a girl and then teasing me because I was gullible and believed that he was being a sweet big brother.  When you think about it, it really is impossible for a big brother to be completely sweet.  Am I right, or am I right?

If you do not have an older brother, I will paint you a picture.  Spending the earlier part of my childhood in rural Tennessee, we didn’t have streets that we could ride bikes on.  We had highways, and the only bikes going on them were motorcycles.  Driveways weren’t paved unless you were older and/or well-to-do, which our young family was not.  Instead, we had thick gravel that would swallow bike tires.

To make up for the restlessness this caused, my big brother got his kicks by sweetly telling me about this game that would involve me chasing him in the yard while he rode off on his bmx wanna-be bike.  Skeptically, I would say “I dunno, that doesn’t sound like fun”.  He could sell an air conditioner to an eskimo back in those days.  He would say, “sure it’s fun!  You just have to try it.  You’ll see-this is going to be great!  I really won’t even go that fast”.

I would reluctantly agree, bargaining with myself “well, he did say he wouldn’t go that fast…”.  Then he would crank up his bike radio (yes, he had a bike radio, folks!) and take off.  I would then give it my all, chasing after him, determined to catch him (What a sad “game”.  What did I think I would do to catch him anyways?).  Then I’d get tired from exerting myself so much from the start and I would lag behind, feeling betrayed when I realized he never intended to go slowly after all.  He’d stop peddling and then call over his shoulder, “Come on!  I promise I won’t go fast (anymore).  You almost caught me that one time!”  Then my confidence would soar again and I would let the thrill of hope give me the energy I needed to catch this big brother, once and for all.  I’d show him!

No, what really happened was he would speed up just before I would catch him and off he’d go.  This was a process and all of it repeated several times before my hope was squashed and I’d decide that riding my tricycle in circles on our patio was much more fun than this.

Big Brother is all grown up now (he still enjoys cereal for dinner while watching cartoons in his underwear so age is relative, but this is a normal American family that I’m in so I’m sure everyone has this kind of thing going on, right?).  The prank he pulled was so good, it snapped me straight back to childhood.  I don’t get normal happy birthdays, I get the kind that keep me on edge because I need to be on guard for family members who will come around the corner and shoot me with a Nerf arrow.  Seriously, things like this motivate people to drive two hours!

In the words of Eminem, let’s “snap back to reality”, shall we?  After his delightfully clever little email, he sent me a “Happy 30th Birthday!” text on my birthday, followed by what seemed to be a demonstration of the emoticons he recently learned (he’s behind the times as far as technology goes, but his 13 year old daughter is quickly teaching him a thing or two).  Harr harr, funny funny.  Thanks for the text.  So thoughtful.

On my birthday, I highly anticipate opening the mailbox at home.  It’s what I do.  It’s what I’ve always done.  You know that today, of all days, will be the day that there are fun things from friends and family just for you.  If you’re really lucky, the insurance company and dentist sent theirs ahead of time so it doesn’t distract from the real deal.  So there I was skipping off to the mailbox, no different than if I were seven.  I saw a big purple package that filled the majority of the mailbox, which immediately made me giddy.  Instantly I recognized the handwriting and couldn’t wait to see what Margot came up with this year.  Then I saw two other cards.  Hooray!

I resisted the urge to open them right there at the mailbox and instead brought them out to the porch while I let the dog out.  The boyfriend even poured one of my raspberry Shock Top beers into my brand new pumpkin ale glass that he gave me earlier in the day.  I love pumpkins!  So there I am with my beer, pumpkin glass, on the porch, and the weather is awesome.  Oh yes, and I’m surrounded by things to be opened.

The care package didn’t disappoint.  There was a reusable shopping bag with an inside joke across the front, assorted bags of tea, and a magazine with all kinds of fall crafts and meals to be made.  It sounds dorky but it’s not.  Ok, I’m lying to you.  It’s totally dorky but I love it!  I opened it up and saw all kinds of potential.  I have little patience for cooking magazines because many of them involve ingredients I’ve never heard of, which get them filed in the recycling bin.  But not this one.  I’m looking forward to this one!  (Can I brag just a smidge and tell you that I have beef stew in the crock pot at home right now actually.  I love fall!  …and pumpkins).

So now who could the cards be from?  The handwriting is shaky and in cursive.  My little brother texted the day before to ask my address.  It’s probably from him!  He’s so sweet.  How thoughtful.  I opened it up and was appalled by the vulgar mentions of things to expect when turning 30.  “The music is too loud”. “You don’t get carded anymore”.  I couldn’t believe it!  I’ve been had and worst of all, I never saw this coming.  Chris never sends cards.  At least he hasn’t in years, but now I see that he’s found his way to the card section of the store and his cards with monkeys on the front have evolved into something so foul and grotesque.  And he’s disguising his handwriting?  Oh, that’s just low.

I quickly open the other card so that I can clear this before it ever gets stored into memory and then BAM!  My own mother got me!  Hers is a card in pink and white, full of frill and declaring “30 looks good on you!”.  The “30″ text is so prominent that it challenges ads in Times Square.  It’s enough to burn into your brain and thereby etch itself into your memory no matter how quickly you fling the card from your lap.  The other sick thing here is that neither of them wrote “Just kidding!” or “Gotcha!”.  No, they kept it going and ignored the obvious.  My mom even wrote a sappy message on the inside.  It’s obscene!  My mother never talks like this unless following it up with how she’s having a feeling that this is her last time in Vegas and perhaps we should live it up by going to see a burlesque show, “whatever that is”.

I did notice that my dad’s name was omitted from the card.  Thanks Dad!  Days later I received Little Brother’s card.  It also screamed “Happy 30th!” to me.  I will remember this, people.  I will remember this…

As you read this and think, “Oh, what a funny family!  That sounds like a neat family to be in”, let me leave you with this.  An email from my mother on my birthday (this was after she emailed me the story about her water breaking, and after the video she sent me of her and my dad with their puppy gone crazy).

Image pulled from Mom's email.

“Happy birthday from your perfect family!

Mom, Dad, Chris and Taylor”

I’m going to print this off now and frame for my desk, and try to understand why the older I get, the more I realize that everyone else has lost their minds.

I Turned 29, Part 2: The Halloween Birthday Party

Halloween has come and gone, regardless of how long I’ve dragged it out.  You can celebrate it as much as you want in October, but come November 1 the spiderwebs and decorations look as out of place as skis in summer.

I had my Halloween birthday party Saturday night.  There were so many highlights but I will try to sum them up here.  Nikki, who I’ve been friends with since first grade, drove down from Roanoke for the weekend.  Katy surprised me by showing up on my doorstep Saturday morning.  I was so happy that two of my best friends were there that I almost forgot there were other people coming to the party later that night.

We spent the day baking things like witches toes, mummy hotdogs, cupcakes, and eyeballs.  Nikki found a way to use every ingredient that was left over, so after making the gelatin bloody hand she decided that the best use for the excess would be to make jello shots.  Naturally.  The lesson to be learned there is that a) the more things change, the more they stay the same, and b) jello shots make everything much more fun!

The decorations looked stunning, and I spent less than $30 on them!  Everyone kept commenting on all of the details, which I took as a huge compliment.  I wanted a scary first impression when guests walked up to the door, I wanted the inside of the house to be immersed in Halloween, and I wanted continuity.  Even when people went to the bathroom they still found things like a witches broom in the corner, spider webs over the mirror, and (fake) broken, bloody glass shards around the sink.

Other highlights that evening were Katy doing the choreographed version of The Monster Mash and Nikki’s attention to detail with her zombie costume (tip- she used dried Elmer’s glue for her fake skin and it looked perfect!).  My friends Liz and Andrew showed up as characters from The Great Gatsby – which was adorable.  We also had witches and warlocks, Jason, and one person dressed as Al Borlin.  There were others who came, but they weren’t in costume so they sat on the sidelines and watched while we took pictures and played our parts by staying in character.  Well, everyone but Liz who became possessed by the Halloween slasher spirit and decided that having a bloody knife was a much more fun prop than a purse.

Determined to dress up on October 31, it was off to work I went in my Holly Golightly costume.  I thought it was pretty perfect because if I had to, I could remove some accessories and look like a normal worker bee.  Well, it backfired because no one else in my office was dressed in costume, some forgot it was Halloween, more than one commented that I was very dressed up for work, and most did not know who Holly Golightly was so I had a lot of mistaken identity.  By the end of the day when people asked if I was in costume, I resigned to telling people (with long black gloves and pearl necklace on) that this was my Monday look, and I always dress like this on Mondays.

Last night was the first Halloween that I stayed home and passed out candy.  Judging by my friends’ Facebook and Twitter feeds, I’d say they also did the unthinkable and stayed home.  Or, as some might say, we grew up and acted our age.  Whatever that means.  It would have been much more fun and exciting had there been more trick or treaters than the two kids that came at 9:15, but maybe the rain had something to do with it.  Or maybe parents wouldn’t let their kids come to our door because it looked like a murder scene.

All in all, my favorite holiday went off without a hitch, even with a few missteps here and there.  Now I have to transform the scary into harvesty and brace myself for the holidays.

I turned 29, Part 1: Uncle Ralph visits

First off, thanks to everyone who wished me happy birthday yesterday!  It was a great day made even better by all of the shouts out on facebook, the texts, the phone calls, the flowers to my office, the cards, and one particularly brazen care package.  I was a little hesitant when anticipating turning 29 (aka my last year in my 20′s) until I realized that I didn’t turn into a pumpkin or develop arthritis overnight.  So far so good!

A big birthday highlight was going to dinner with my very cool Uncle Ralph and his entourage of 25 students who were in town for college tours.  Have I told you about my uncle Ralph?  As a kid he was cool because he pulled quarters out of my ear and then made me “fly” to touch the ceiling.  As an adult, he’s cool because he has an awesome record collection, plays the drums (ok that always made him cool), puts on an outdoor Shakespeare festival every year with his students, he knows everything about history (seriously- ask him anything!), and among other things has a sense of humor that cannot be matched.

When I was born, my Dad says that the nurse came into the room to ask if it was ok before letting my Uncle Ralph in to see me.  He had more of an off-beat look in those days and I just smile when I think about how amusing my entourage has always been, even from day 1.

It’s only fitting that we reunited to celebrate 29 years later.  Ok, maybe he wasn’t in town just for me, but that won’t stop me from using that to guilt trip my parents later.  “Yeah, well, Uncle Ralph came up to visit me for my birthday.  He even took me out to dinner.”

Uncle Ralph is a teacher, both in his profession and in his personal life.  There is so much to learn from him.  If there was a lesson to be learned from him last night, it is that students create an instant birthday party and that uncles have full reign to talk about anything and everything they wish to share with you and your boyfriend, even if they were just introduced an hour beforehand.  From this freedom of speech, I’ve learned that I’ll laugh because the alcohol is lacking but the conversation is flowing, and how did we start talking about prostates and family trees where the branches, how do I put this, sometimes loop back around to meet each other?

In exchange for his company and wisdom, I traded him enlightenment by loaning him two David Sedaris books (“Holidays On Ice” and “Me Talk Pretty One Day”).  I trust that he will properly spew his coffee, as you should, when reading the comforting tales that remind us that maybe it’s not just our family after all.

On a related note…

Secret Agent L is someone who you should know about. She does all kinds of random acts of kindness all the time and turns them into exciting missions. She even has Affiliated Agents all over the world. They do neat things like get coloring books and crayons, bundle them with a ribbon and leave on people’s cars at parks anonymously with a little card that reads “This is for you! Yes, YOU!”.

She is currently working on one extra-special, top-secret mission and needs help. Get more details here.

My 29 random acts of kindness by Thanksgiving is more geared towards doing good deeds for people directly (or indirectly as the situation presents itself) and won’t necessarily require you to buy and arrange anything. However, if you film one of your good deeds and send her way (details for format on her website), I’m pretty sure that would count as two acts of kindness in one.  She can also accept a video of more than one person working together.

Bonus points:  She said she would make you an official Affiliated Agent if you helped with this mission.  How fun is that?

Birthday presents of a different sort

Hey everyone!  I thought of something really unusual but fun to do for my birthday.  In honor of celebrating my 29 years next week, I am challenging myself to do 29 random acts of kindness by Thanksgiving.  I’m hoping that not only could this interesting, but it will also be satisfying and inspiring to myself and others.

Here’s where you come in.  For my birthday this year, I want you to do this with me.  Puh-puh-paleeeasse?  I’m leaving the amount of acts up to you.  You can do 29, too.  If you’re younger, feel free to go with your own age to make it more personal.  If you’re older, no pressure to take on more than you’d like.  The point is for this to be fun and achievable – and hopefully it becomes contagious!  We could all use more good news in our day.  Help create it and move it forward.

Document what you do because you want to keep track, but I also want to hear (or see if you take pictures) about what you’re doing.  Don’t over-think it.  If you want to keep a list, do that.  If you want to start taking photos of some of these things, do that too.   This isn’t supposed to be so complicated that we find reasons to talk ourselves out of it.  Spreading kindness is supposed to be simple.  As it should be.

And did I mention that you should have lots of fun with this?  You all just might make the me happiest girl in the world if you do this, too.