Tag: fairytale

The Monster

“The Monster”

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

imageFear can be a debilitating monster. It can show it’s ugly face at the most unlikely moments, very sneaky and unsuspecting. Your chest tightens, your heart races, your muscles tighten. Your breathing speeds up so much you can’t keep up .It almost hurts. I never thought of myself as a fearful person. As a child I was cautious. I wasn’t the daredevil child who swung from the jungle gym upside down. I tried things, but I was carefully cautious. I was a ballet dancer, a piano player. I didn’t take chances. The “biggest” thing I did back then was dive off the high board! I remember the day I did a flip into the deep end. You wouldn’t catch me climbing the stairs today, much less walk the plank! The thought of the climb makes my heart race.

imageGregger was the daredevil. He had that good boy personna, but inside a little bit of devil was always aching to get out. The gaping hole in the back of his leg…a burn from the forbidden motorcyle ride his parents NEVER knew he took. He loved jet skiing with the kids, riding the waves at crazy speeds while I sat on the shore clenching my jaw so tight I’d end up with a migraine for three days! He loved bike riding, roller blading (yes, back in the day), even skateboarding. He was the “fun” one and I was the “ooh, aah, stop, careful, WATCH OUT!” mom who drove everyone crazy. My biggest moment was in Hawaii years back when everyone dared me to go parasailing. Gregger and I were teaming it, so I figured what the hell. I’ll show everyone! It was the first and DEFINITELY the LAST! My kids thought it hysterical to guide us sky high (as I clung for dear life), drop us into the sparkling blue water (just as I thought it was over), and sharply shoot us straight back up again! Holy crap! If my heart didn’t stop then I knew it was a strong ticker! I made Gregger get me one of those cheesy t-shirts that says “I survived Parasailing in Maui” just so I could flaunt my fearless moment!

imageFear strikes at the strangest moments. Pre kids I was a fearless flyer. Post kids, I am white knuckle all the way. Gregger would sit back, watch his movie, read his magazines, and I’d be clutching his hand, the arm rest, praying until those wheels touched down. It’s all different now. Being afraid has a whole new meaning. I never used to be afraid of the dark. I never used to be afraid to come into my house at night or walk out in the backyard. But, now I do it alone and it’s oh so creepy. I don’t like being afraid. I don’t like jumping when a bird flutters from a tree at night and or something wriggles on the ground, especially when I discover it’s a freaking snake! I don’t like driving into my garage peering over my shoulder, shutting it before the car is off so no one can sneak in without my knowing. I don’t like walking into my house at night and feeling like someone might be there, so I tiptoe across the floor, opening the doors, guardedly peering into the rooms. Then I circle back, grab a phone (just in case) and lock my bedroom door…paranoia?  One night I swore I was going to see feet under my door jam so I kept the lights on and waited. Crazy? No, just a little afraid. I’m not a good “alone” person, but I’m learning. I had the Gregger to “protect” me for 40 years (that’s actually kind of funny!). Just knowing he was there was protection enough for me. Little by little I’ll let the fears creep away into the darkness. I will accept the fear, act powerfully, expect the best and take control one fear at a time. And in the meantime, I’ll keep a baseball bat outside (for creepy critters), a phone by my side (for 911), and good thoughts in my head!

Las Vegas Trip

Lady Luck

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

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I know I have been talking a lot about all of the “firsts” in my life lately, but right now my life is all about change. Generally I don’t do well with change. I am a woman of routine. I follow the same pattern every day, eat the same foods, and am basically one of the most boring people on the planet. Give me a plan and I’m okay, but change that plan, and it takes me a while to adapt. So these past seven months have literally thrown me into a spiral. The daily changes and adaptations are overwhelming, not to mention, the BIG ones – selling the businesses, putting the house on the market, “going out,” and now one more. I am taking my first BIG GIRL trip on my own. Well, not completely on my own. I am meeting my sister (my bestie) for her birthday in Vegas of all places. In 40 years I never did the “girl trip” – I never even did “girls night out.” Gregger and I just didn’t do that. Our time together was so limited and we really cherished our alone time. Even when the kids were little and growing up we didn’t do separate things. We ate together, watched TV together…it was just us. So stepping out to Vegas on my own…this is HUGE!

imageI am not a Vegas lover. We chose this for convenience and sunshine. My sis has suffered a horrific winter on the east coast and the best I could offer for her birthday was sunny skies and sipping martinis poolside. I will deal with the CHANGE and get through another “first.” Who knows? I may even have a little bit of fun. But first I have to walk the memories. The time our plane got diverted to LA in a violent storm and I held Gregger’s hand so tight he had bruises by the time we landed. Or our infamous trip with Ashley and Tyler when I got violently ill (yes, I drank a little too much!) and he dragged me through the lobby of the Palazzo (as I vomited into Tyler’s t-shirt), our dinners at Joe’s Stone Crab, walks on the strip, and cheering me on at the slots. Memories, memories, memories…those memories will be etched in my heart forever, but for now I’ll start making new ones. I don’t have his hand to clutch onto as the plane bounces around (I am NOT a good flyer), but I am talking to him as if he were right here with me – my guardian angel. I am ready to face what lies ahead. We’re going to play some of his favorite numbers…maybe lady luck will roll our way. Here’s to another “first,” another change, and another tomorrow.

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In The Midst Of Chaos There is Joy

In The Midst Of Chaos There is Joy

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

Life is short

My life lately could best be described as total chaos…I am trying to keep the pieces together, but every day a piece of the puzzle just doesn’t seem to fit in place. Whether it’s water flooding my hallways and kitchen from a broken line in my refrigerator, or pools of blood covering my floors from a bleeding dog, or another dog vomiting everywhere just as I finish cleaning up one mess after another, or the mundane routine of trying to keep bills in check, it’s just a little crazy. But, in the midst of all of this trivial “B.S.” I was blessed to be part of the “Teen Suit Event” at the Boys and Girls Club of Greater Scottsdale last Friday afternoon. It was a beautiful reminder that none of that “B.S.” really mattered at all. It put life in perspective and gave me a sense of purpose for a few short hours. This was not an easy decision for me. This was Gregger’s thing. I had to step into his shoes. I had to walk into those doors and not only recall the memories of last year, but actually “be him.” It was one of the hardest things I’ve done yet, but I was determined to do it, not only for him, but for me.

Greg 3I was pretty melancholy on my drive there. A few tears rolled down my cheeks as I remembered meeting Gregger in the parking lot last year. He was so excited to be part of this event. This was one of The Clotherie’s biggest fundraisers. Twice a year The Clotherie collected suits, sportcoats, and trousers to send to the Boys and Girls Club for this “Suit Event” for boys to wear to prom, graduation, or job interviews. Gregger was in high gear, dressing boy after boy, making sure they looked stylish, sharp, and dressed to a “t” in their new duds. He was like a proud dad with every one of those boys, and the boys were so incredibly grateful. While I assisted last year, I mostly reveled in Gregger’s passion; it just emanated from his soul.

little thingsBut this year was different. There was no Gregger. It was just me. I had to do this alone. I had to figure this out. I entered the room and tears immediately ran down my face. I wasn’t sure if I should stay or make a mad dash for the parking lot. I saw Gregger everywhere. But then I saw the boys. And I saw their smiles, their enthusiasm. My heart  melted and I felt my lips slightly curving upward; it was hard not to feel the warmth, the passion, the energy. At that moment, I knew I would be okay. I started suiting up the boys, pulling outfits, suits, shirts, and even ties. Gregger used to ask me if I liked this tie or that with his outfit…totally not my thing. But all of a sudden, I was picking out great ties to match shirts and suits and the boys were loving it. I felt like I was on fire. I didn’t want it to stop. The boys were so gracious. They were so proud. I just wanted to hug all of them and say “thank you” for giving me the greatest moment. Whereas they thought I was giving to them, they had no idea what they were giving to me…more than they could ever imagine. I smiled – a genuine, warm, loving smile that came from the inside out. I laughed. I felt happy. This was a good day.

So the chaos was behind me. It was still there when I got home, but that was okay. I was at peace and for a few hours I felt true joy.

Greg 22015-03-27 19.07.07 Kindness in words creates confidence. Kindness in thinking creates profoundness. Kindness in giving creates LOVE.

 

(Gregger and the boys 2014)
Tomorrow’s Just a Day Away

Tomorrow’s Just a Day Away

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

 


strength 6

Sadness has surrounded me this week. Death, tragedies, heartache. A dear childhood friend, a “best friend” mother, and a beloved father were all lost to people in my circle of life. I passed a fresh flower memorial on the side of the road with people hovering by and discovered that a motorcyclist had been killed the day before.  There are no words to express the sadness, the loss, the grief. One can only offer support, love, and friendship. I know this all too well. I also encountered several people, some strangers, others mere acquaintances, who had lost their spouses. I am trying to find the message, the answers, the reasons for so much all at once. There are no reasons, there are no answers, but I do believe there is a message. In conversation with a good friend who was dealing with her own trauma today, the lesson came to me. Life is tough. Life is not always fair. Life is a challenge.

“Life is a series of experiences, each one of which makes us bigger, even though sometimes it is hard to realize this. For the world was built to develop character, and we must learn that the setbacks and grieves which we endure help us in our marching onward.”

As I read these words I realize how very true they are. I am not sure I would have completely understood them seven months ago. In the past when I dealt with challenges, struggles, and hurdles I always realized it was to better myself, my relationships, but losing a loved one magnifies everything by tens of thousands. I believe we are dealt a certain hand in life. Sometimes we are given simple tasks and sometimes we are given way more than we think we can handle, and, it’s in those moments that we ask WHY?  Why me? But if I look around, it’s everywhere. Everyone is dealing with something. Some things are bigger, some are smaller, but everyone has SOME THING! I just have to choose HOW I deal. Do I break down, stop, and let life get the best of me, or do I choose to be stronger every day, put my feet on the ground and keep moving? I choose to move..to move towards a better life that offers happiness and hope for a better tomorrow.

“You never know how strong you are until being strong is the only choice you have.”  

strengthThe past seven months have proven this to me. Every day presents a new challenge, a new hurdle to overcome, and every day I somehow dig deep to find the strength to get through it. Do I falter, shake, and stumble? Of course I do. Somedays I don’t even want to get out of bed because I am so afraid of what life is going to present. But I do. I put two feet on the ground, take two steps forward and keep going. Somedays it’s two steps forward, one step back, but at least I keep on going. I refuse to give up. Gregger would not want that and neither do I. People tell me all the time how brave and strong I am. Well, sometimes the outside is a lot stronger than the inside, but it’s working it’s way inward. It’s like smiling at a stranger when I least want to and suddenly being entrenched with a sense of warmth and sunshine. It happens. It works. So I practice being strong. The more I practice, the more it sinks in and the more it feels real. I will break tomorrow, next week and probably a year from now, but each time I will be a little bit stronger because I have made it through another day.

 

tomorrowAs cliche as it may sound I count my blessings, I am grateful for the goodness, and I try, try, try to seek the positive in every blessed day. As Annie said, “The sun will come out tomorrow…you gotta hang on ’til tomorrow, come what may…tomorrow, tomorrow…you’re always a day away!”

some days suck

S.D.S.!

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

today sucks

What the heck is S.D.S.? SOME DAYS SUCK! There’s  just no other way to say it! Even B.G.D. (Before Gregger Died) I had those sucky days, but they were different. Somehow the sucky days always had a luminous light at the end…I always knew sunshine would walk in the door around 7 pm and brighten my day…or at least give it his best shot. He tried, lord knows he tried, but I could be harder than a brick wall. I had my own PMS…pissed, mopey, and sultry. Whether he broke through or not, I knew he was there.

P.G.D.(Post Gregger’s Death) it’s different. I have to learn how to deal with the PMS and the sucky days on my own. It’s okay…it’s just another lesson. It’s another step toward growing better, growing stronger, growing more independent. I can do this. I can get through the SUCKY days…they won’t get the best of me. I will cry…I will mope…I will be pouty…but I will get over it and move on. I will count my blessings and be grateful. Cliché? Maybe so, but it’s the best I’ve got and it gets me through the SUCK!

And a little love from Lucy doesn’t hurt either…unconditional doggy love! Yes…there is sunshine in every cloud!

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On Bended Knee

On Bended Knee

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

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“A good life is a collection of happy moments.” Blessings, treasures in a memory bank…a place to go when I need a hug, a smile, or some sunshine on a rainy day.  I put on my wedding band today and was reminded of Gregger’s “first” proposal…so simple, so funny, so unromantic, yet one of the happiest moments in that treasure bank. After a whirlwind romance and a trip to Disneyland I think I pretty much hounded him enough until engagement was the only thing on our minds. We both had a year left at ASU, were completely unprepared for the real world at the ripe age of 20, but “the happiest place on earth” had given us a reason to think marriage was the next and best step (or at least I thought it was and went on to convince him). He came to St. Louis to meet my crazy family over Christmas. Now that could have been the biggest mistake of my life! As he entered the house he was inundated with “noise!” Kids everywhere…one spinning cartwheels, another throwing footballs, and my parents asking what the hell he did in Iowa! This poor guy didn’t know what hit him. I thought he was going to dart out the back door and I’d never see him again, but he sat there with that twinkling smile and took it all like the gentle soul he always was…kind, compassionate, full of heart. He cheered for the cartwheels, tossed the football, and answered the questions like a sport. After a few days we were off to Iowa…then it was my turn…UGH!

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I flew off to Council Bluffs, Iowa to meet the fam. I don’t think I had the confidence of Gregger. I was definitely more timid and shy. This was my first real “meet the parents.” What if they didn’t approve? While Gregger was a pretty self-assured, independent guy, the blessing of his parents was key. If Sammy and Nonie nixed this plan, I was a goner…I was sure of that. I really wasn’t sure of anything the first few days. I didn’t know if I was just there for a “run through,” a “meet and greet” or if this was going to be the real deal. I just knew I was in it for the long haul and I was praying I got a “thumbs up.”

imageLife long friends of the in-laws and Gregger’s, the Gallners, were throwing us a welcome party on Sunday night. This was extremely kind since we weren’t officially engaged. I was just the girl from St. Louis. Here comes the fun part…setting the scene. Standing in Gregger’s childhood room with cowboy wallpaper covering the walls, dressed in a rather ratty bathrobe and still prepping with no makeup and a head full of curlers, Gregger entered the room. I could clearly tell he had something on his mind. No flowers. No box. So this COULD NOT be the proposal. Not the romantic Gregger I knew. But…he tells me to sit down on the bed. I am in a bathrobe with curlers literally covering my head!!! He hesitates a second and says, “So we are going to this party at the Gallners tonight. Do you want to marry me?” Huh? In my dreams I had so many magical proposals. I imagined being in a beautiful setting with my love on bended knee, an open box with something glittery in front of me. I would hear these “gushy” words that I had been waiting to hear all of my life and I would melt inside, but, here was MY PRINCE in his bedroom proposing and suddenly NOTHING really mattered at all. I jumped into his arms, shouted “Yes” and then proceeded to ask in my inimitable way, “Are you sure? Are you sure? Is this for real?”

The Gregger proposed to me two more times in our forty years together, once on our 25th and again on our 35th. No fancy dinners or romantic settings – just me in my robe while prepping to go “somewhere.” This was OUR day…it never mattered what was going on in our lives, we took the time to spend this day together.  So all that really mattered was that my Prince Gregger was still standing before me proclaiming his love, vowing to stay together for a lifetime. It made me believe in real fairytales. I realized Prince Charming does not have to bring the glass slipper or even the diamond ring…all he has to do is love you unconditionally, curlers and all. Although we vowed to be together for 75 years, I was blessed with just short of 39 …treasures in my memory bank that fill my heart with love. image

 

 

The House that is a Home

The House that is a Home

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

imageApril is the 21st anniversary in our home…21 years! We moved around a lot in the first 18 years of our marriage, beginning in the typical apartment to starter home and moving on up from there. All in all we moved 8 times with a few temporary houses in between. We always built rather than buying something a little older and remodeling…Gregger always wanted to attempt that, but he never had time. Building from the ground up was difficult enough with his schedule, but somehow we made it work.

Our first big investment was in 1978 when we purchased a Suggs semi-custom in McCormick Ranch. It had the best of the 80’s…drab olive, burnt orange and horrific plaids! It was a huge stretch for our budget but we convinced our young 24-year old selves that it was going to be the best investment we ever made. We carefully selected carpet, cabinets, and all the trimmings making it our perfect first house and the perfect place to start our family. But…after 2 years, we were ready to move on, and ready to “add on.” This seemed to be our pattern for the next ten years. I think it was the years of “building fever.” It seemed that just as soon as we got settled somewhere we would sell and start from the ground up again. Along with the building “fever” came “baby fever” – our family had suddenly grown from two to five.

Once the kids started school we settled down a bit. They had neighborhood friends and, back in those days, they could play outside, ride their bikes, and pretty much come and go without much worry. The boys were getting extremely involved in sports, but starting to focus intensely on tennis. We were spending our weekends traveling from one tournament to the next and weekdays were consumed with lessons and drills. We thought it would be so great to have our own court where they could practice and play ALL the time, so the hunt was on! We broke ground sometime in the summer of 1993 and the house was finished just in time to debut for Ryan’s Bar Mitzvah in April 1994.

A House is Made of Bricks and Beams…A Home is Made of Hopes and Dreams

The memories behind these walls are priceless…so many changes over so little time. The kids have grown from youngsters and teens to adults. Gregger and I went from full-time parenting to empty nesters. Adam and Ashley were married. We became grandparents to two beautiful children. The parties…if walls could talk! We had so many wonderful parties for us, the kids, and friends. I walk from room to room, I look out the window, I hear the voices, I see the faces. It is heart wrenching to let it go. But it is time. It is just too much for me without the one person who made this a home. This was OUR HOME. All of the other places became houses once we moved here. Gregger and I talked about moving for a very long time. We were going to move closer to store to make his life easier, but we never did. We were going to remodel, update, do this or that. We never did. This was still OUR HOME. It was a place filled with so much love, so many memories, something no one will ever take away from me. But at some point I must walk away and start over somewhere else. It just is not the same without Gregger. It is quiet. It is empty. I miss the noise. I miss the laughter. I miss there being more than just me. But it is still, and always will be, my HOME.

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The Suite Case - A True Love Fairytale

The Suitcase

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

a place for everything

You can tell a lot about a man by the way he packs his clothes. Percentage weighs heavily on the side of women packing for their men, whether it be that men don’t want to be bothered or they just don’t know how. In my case, the Gregger was clearly the BETTER PACKER! In fact, he was OCD meticulous! Packing for a trip in this house could literally lead to World War III. Our big issue…I was “check-in” and he was “carry on!”  To the Gregger, packing was an architechural or engineering project using every dimension of the smallest proportion to get as much as possible into the smallest space. On the other hand, I was totally inept when it came to packing. No matter how hard I tried to limit myself, I would overpack “just in case.” So we bantered back and forth. His point: I overpacked, would never wear it all, and it was a waste of space. My point: I would be best prepared for all occasions, all moods, which, in the end, would make him abundantly happier! His point: he was efficient, precise, and a time-saver (no waiting for bags, no chance of lost baggage, etc.). My point: when traveling, who cares? Chill out!

Needless to say, the bantering continued just about every time either or both of us traveled. I think it became some sort of game. He would certainly not dare give in to more than one suitcase, lest he show any sign of packing weakness. And, I certainly would never learn to pack less than half my closet!

 

suitcases 2

Now for most people packing is a day before, night before happening. Not in our house. This was literally a 2-3 day affair. I kid you not! Day one: the rolling rack appeared in the bedroom so Gregger could start “pulling” his clothes. This was a painstaking, detail-oriented affair focused on fusing the necessary pieces into the perfect ensembles. Minimilization was key…the fewer the pieces to mix and match the bigger the win! Rules of the game: one or two sport coats for a four or five day trip, a shirt for every day, maybe one or two extra “just in case,” and generally two or three pants that were rotated. Everything mixed and matched to perfection. Then came shoes to coordinate (he was only allotted a certain number), socks and underwear for everyday (obviously for Mr. Meticulous!), pocket squares for the super savvy, and then the royal dobb kit! Now that was a packing procedure in itself. Every item had its own plastic bag, wrapped again in more plastic and then placed sequentially as if solving a puzzle. It was quite the process.

Our last trip together was no different. The rolling rack appeared in the bedroom by Wednesday. Shorts, t-shirts, Lulu outfits, and underwear were laid out by Thursday. The good shirts were carefully hung and were folded and wrapped (yes, wrapped in plastic!) on Friday. I was so excited for the trip I didn’t care how he went about packing. At this point it was fun watching him make it all work. In the meantime I had emptied more than half my closet into two full suitcases and was very ready to go! When all was said and done, we jammed 9 suitcases and 5 backpacks into the van upon arrival in Maui! We were prepared for just about anything…well, just about anything.

In 40 years I NEVER once packed for the Gregger. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to. I just knew I could never do it the way he did. I don’t think anyone could! It was truly an art. Packing and unpacking was his thing. He knew where things went and how to put them away. I certainly never wanted my first packing experience to be the one it turned out to be, but I had no choice. September 3rd I was faced with the most difficult packing chore of my life. Not only did I have to pack Gregger’s suitcase, but I had to return home without him. This was something I had to do alone. I spent some time folding, sorting, and trying to carefully place each item the way he would want me to, but eventually I just didn’t care anymore. I threw away the plastic bags we had saved for years. I tossed shoes in on top of clothes and ignored the rule of wrapping. The tears were flowing too heavily. I just needed to get that bag packed somehow. Each shirt reminded me of something. The only thing I took special care with was his straw hat. I wrapped it, stuffed it, and protected it. I knew how much that hat meant to him, and it would forever remind me of our last trip together. He would hate the way I packed that suitcase.

I was cleaning my closet the other day and thought, “Okay it’s time, but, as always I stopped in my tracks.” The vivid, lime green duffle still lies on the floor, unpacked. I move it from side to side. I open it now and then thinking I might start to unpack, but then I put everything back in place. It just seems too final. I will unpack it one of these days, but until then, I see it everyday and it’s just a little piece of the Gregger that is still there. It reminds me of his meticulous nature, his savvy style, and our quirky bantering over silly things. I’m just not ready to let it go. I will be soon enough. 2013-09-21 06.08.27

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Birds In Love - A True Love Fairytale

The Love Birds

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

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This is the tale of two love birds, a tale of love, loss, and sorrow. A tale of fate, choices, and destiny that reminds us whatever the plan, there is no plan. Captivated by an early sunrise and the quiet solitude of the morn, I was startled by a thunderous crash outside my window. Afraid to look out, I slowly peeked out to find one quail fluttering to the ground in desperation, while another hovered over, bobbing it’s head back and forth. I literally felt helpless, but a rush of emotions and memories came flooding back to me. I don’t want to sound heartless, but I am generally not a huge bird lover. They kind of scare me. This was so different. These birds were so connected. The poor bird who survived was so distraught, so alone, and so lost without his mate that I suddenly forgot I was watching two birds. He circled the dead bird over and over again and then stopped. He stood over him, head bent forward and just paused. Then he would start circling again.

I walked outside not knowing what to do. The quail sauntered into the bushes when he heard my steps and then slowly made his way back to his mate. I observed from afar and my eyes filled with tears as I watched him circling again and again as if his mate would revive somehow. He would wail these sing-song sounds as if beckoning friends or family to join him but none came. I was so incredibly touched by the dedication, love, and commitment. Iimage realized that life is just as unpredictable for these poor birds. A morning that began with a carefree flight, wings spread in the clear, blue sky ended just as suddenly and unexpectedly with tragedy. They were clearly love birds, soul mates as this bird was still bobbing and circling on my patio seven hours later.

It reminded me of our day on the beach. We drove 45 minutes to Kaanapali with not a care in the world, seeking cloudless skies on the other side of the island.  We chose Black Beach because two days earlier had been so memorable…perfect waves, white sand, clear blue water. We hugged, we kissed, we said “I love you” and Gregger walked into those sparkling waters never to walk out again. Just like the quails who chose their path this morning, I think about the “what ifs.” What if we had chosen a different beach? What if Gregger had never gone snorkeling? What if the quails flew in a different direction? What if they flew just a bit higher and missed my clear window? But what ifs are pointless…the minister who spent the day with us August 30th made us promise to stop the “what ifs,” “if onlys” and “why didn’t we just.” Just like the quails who chose their path today, we chose ours. I used to believe that everything happens for a reason. I am still seeking whatever that reason must be. But like the love birds today, fate stepped in and life ended. No explanation, no time to prepare…just over in a flash. I sat and watched that poor quail all day long. I believe he finally gave up after about nine treacherous hours. I’m not sure where he went or why he decided to leave, but I continued to hear the wailing of those quails in my backyard all afternoon. I hope he found his peace just as I am slowly finding mine. When I believed he had gone, I chose to put his mate to rest so he could be at peace too.

At some time we all wish we could hit the stop button, pause, rewind, and have the opportunity to ask “what if?” But we can’t. I look to skies and ask, “Why Gregger? Why that day?” But there are no answers. There are only messages. Love unconditionally. Forgive. Be grateful for today. Cherish the simple moments. Live compassionately. Be kind. Live the way Gregger would have lived and find a little more peace each and every day. I think he would be happy with that and so am I.

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Luck of the irish - A True Love Fairytale

True Luck ‘o the Irish

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

imageWe were never big on St. Paddy’s Day. It was just one of those holidays that kind of passed us by in the middle of March. If it crossed our minds, we wore green to avoid being pinched, but that was the extent of our participation. B.K. (before kids) I think we did our share of partying with the gang, and I remember a very unsuccessful attempt at corned beef and cabbage! The butcher mistakenly gave me a brisket (somehow realizing I was Jewish?) but we were expecting this Irish delicacy that turned into disaster! In later years Gregger celebrated with a smooth glass of Irish Jameson whisky. What better excuse to cheers to good old St. Paddy.

But suddenly even this holiday is so different. Every holiday is different when there is no one to share it with anymore. I saw a green shirt hanging in his closet and thought that maybe he could wear that to work today. If not, I could tease him and pinch him, but he wasn’t here. I still see his Jameson in the pantry and I want to pour him a glass tonight but he won’t be home to drink it. I believe he is celebrating somewhere with a Jameson in hand.

The more I read about St. Paddy’s Day the more it brings a smile to my face. It is all about bringing joy, luck, and happiness into people’s lives. Whether you believe in the luck of the Irish, the shamrock, the leprachaun, or rainbows, it’s all beautiful. I believe the message spans all nationalities and religions. It is simple and reminds me so much of Gregger. Be kind, be gracious, and be thankful for your blessings. I am reminded everyday to bimagee grateful for the true blessings in my life, and despite losing my greatest blessing, I have many.

Cheers to all of you!