Valentine’s Day Redefined-Not what you think

I am not really the romantic type.  I’ve had one or two serious relationships that Valentine’s Day would have meant anything anyway.  Unfortunately, Valentine’s Day will always mean something infinitely sad for me.  It was the day my Nana passed away, tomorrow it’ll be a year since she passed away.  She was 96 years old and was in damn good shape for 96.  She was sharp as a sharks tooth until she was about 92-93.

My 96-year old Nana receiving a mud mask last summer. Thank you Arbonne for giving me the time with her.

My 96-year old Nana receiving a mud mask last summer. Thank you Arbonne for giving me the time with her.

I haven’t felt this sad about it in a long time, which is to be expected I guess.  It is really the first family death that hit home hard.  When my Aunt Goldie died (at 96ish), it was sad, but as much as I loved her, I didn’t feel as much of a connection with her as I did her sister, my aunt Gert.  When my Aunt Gert died, I had actually said goodbye to her a few years before, after seeing her for the first time after her massive stroke which had left her as a virtual vegetable, I saiIt td goodbye.  Eventually I just couldn’t go to see her anymore, it was too painful.  Despite her being the virtual vegetable, there were signsher still there.  Which is even worse in my opinion.

I was trying to figure out why I was somewhat melancholy throughout the day today, after feeling on top of the world this month.   I have no been this upset about Nana’s death in a long time, but I guess that’s too be expected.  This might be the first time I let everything in the past year hit me.   It’s been the gauntlet.  My friend said, “you’ll cry when you least expect it.”  It was about three months for her.  It’s been about three months since EVERYTHING hit, and came at me like a cattle yard with a fan.  So, I guess that makes sense.

I still didn’t expect the affect of her death to affect me like this.  The start of everything that set my soul on fire to get my ass in gear.  But this shit fucking hurts.  I know it’ll dissipate with time.  It’s very different than anything I have felt in a very, very long time.  The pain is deep, visceral, and feels like a living, breathing being that I wish I could stab to death.  This is a free-thought entry.

I am very good at compartmentalizing when it comes to emotions, etc. However, I do much better when I expect it coming.

Capturing the Moment

There is something about capturing a moment in time that is magical, and almost visceral.  In certain pictures you can feel the emotion being conveyed in that moment. It is a gift to be able to capture that moment, and preserve it for a lifetime of memories.

Maria Spillane being recognized for achieving National Vice President in Arbonne. Photograph taken by Alexis Krukovsky.

Maria Spillane being recognized for achieving National Vice President in Arbonne. Photograph taken by Alexis Krukovsky.

The record is there, and you can immerse yourself in that moment at anytime.  Anyone who has lost someone close to them, you realize how important pictures are because they bring you back to that time and place. The part of that memory you hold dear is an important gateway to the soul, and it’s easy to get lost in it.  The most important part is to take the memory and hold it close to you, and keep it with you as long as you need it.

It doesn’t need to be that dramatic, though.  It can be sending a friend a picture when they are away, or finding a hilarious event and reposting it.  It brings you back to time, place, and emotion.