Just A Boy & A Girl Gonna Take On The World

“Airfield?”…. does that mean main airport, or am I going to be driving the beamer onto the tarmac like a good idea gone horribly wrong when mom takes a left turn from the airport parking lot. ‘eh what the hell, I suppose I’ll figure out soon enough if I’m in the wrong spot considering a plane will be landing on top of my car.’

The echo of the high pitched sound coming from my car to alert me and the next 5 levels of the parking ramp, sounds different today…maybe its the god awful humidity in the air, or maybe its because there is some anticipation in me and every little thing has me distracted to keep from skipping through the parking lot like I’m playing a school yard game of hop scotch…

I saunter towards door 5, he said united right…my mind continues to play logical tricks on me; you know when you are so excited you can barely sleep, eat, or function to a full form of a human capacity until the object of your anticipation is sought after like girl scout cookies at a markdown sale, that’s how I felt. I stroll in through door five, and when I say that I mean it had one of those merry go round doors that Buddy The Elf runs around in until he gets sick, ya that was me…but I stopped after three because the 5 year old and her mother shot me judging stares when they couldn’t jump in at that fast of a pace…I can’t help that I practice everywhere I go.

Looking left I see baggage carousels, to my right is a ticketing counter – the difference about this airport was that you could walk freely all the way up to the gates where they take your ticket and you are about to be seated…they must not have gotten the 9/11 memo that every other god damned airport under the sun received stating: no smiling, no shoestrings, no happiness, no puppies, no hoodies, and definitely no laughter. Straight laced, straight faced ready to clothesline someone at the drop of a hat has been my experience with airport personel and especially TSA. Those individuals don’t work here…quite frankly its refreshing that it seems as though they are all hired from a temp agency, with mild mannered demeanor and pleasant smiles on their faces.

Not seeing any tv screens or hearing announcements when flights get in, I suppose I’ll just stand here by this sturdy brick wall and wait…and wait some more….stare at my feet, the cute lady with the baby, the small chip in my nailpolish and then wonder if I’d shut the lights off on my car…no time for thoughts Meg, we have some serious damage to do this weekend – and your partner in crime should be arriving any minute…any minute now…ok any chunk of 3 minutes on the minute now…I finally look back down to stare at how awfully long my second toe is…like I could scratch your back with it…

I look up and there is that beautiful sight I know to be one of my very best friends, the sight that makes me smile like a 4 year old who just learned the physical definition of potty training. We both kind of stammer over each others names, he didn’t expect me to be inside and I’d been waiting so long [9 minutes to be exact] that I’d started to lose hope, maybe he changed his mind last minute and the flight wasn’t worth it after all….psych.

Walking towards the car we couldn’t stop smiling, talking about the wonderful weekend we were about to unfold like a cardboard box, the amount of red paint we would need, and the amount of PBR’s we could responsibly afford without having to take out a second mortgage [too late]. Off to dinner, drinks, a kick ass firework show, and out to dance the night away…in 110% humidity [let me tell you I was a vision]. All the while none of us complained, see we enjoy the sheer existance of each others company so much that it’s borderline Christmas everytime we reconveine; this was an accident, turned friendship, turned penpals, turned best friends…the organic experience of allowing this relationship to evolve to wherever it wants to go has been a true blessing and joy in my life.

To have someone I can count on to 9 times out of 10 (hundred) pick up the phone and be there when I am in need is a beautiful thing, someone that notices things about me that I didn’t even notice about myself, a person to sing your praises and always have your back – even in the worst of dance offs.

I can’t tell you how much I’ve appreciated these past few months getting to know you, getting to be around you, and being able to tell people about the wonderful friend I have that has helped make my weird ass dreams become reality…I feel like a kid again when I’m with you and all I want to do is double dutch and sidewalk chalk the night away. Thanks for being more than I could have ever hoped for, and less than I ever over assumed. You my dear friend are something spectacular, they just don’t quite make them like you anymore – I’m glad I have you in my life.

‘Your star is so bright I can see your core, and you light up my life so I can see more…’
Thank You Browntown

Sincerely

Sween Child Of Mine, Meg.

Happy Birthday Thanh Vu

In regards to previous posts

https://megansweeney.wordpress.com/2011/06/23/we-all-wanna-know-how-it-ends/

https://megansweeney.wordpress.com/2011/06/10/searching-for-all-the-right-words/

I will be sitting in that courtroom August 1, 2010 watching the man that killed you being sentenced; I know you’ll bring comfort and ease to us no matter the outcome – but in the meantime, even though he silenced your voice – he won’t be silencing ours.

Sign this petition please – explanation on the link.

http://www.change.org/petitions/judge-bradley-c-walker-justice-for-thanh-vu-2

Hero Nearby

I’ll never forget standing at that gas station pump while my phone rang, I had my hands full – but I was waiting for this call, I left the house in hopes of getting my mind off things, just to take a drive. Today was like any other MN summer, beads of sweat form on your forehead fast than a shot of vodka takes effect, you begin to sweat in orifices only a human anatomy class could teach you their locations, and you hope to god that the car you are riding in, if not your own, doesn’t have leather seats; for you may be stuck there for days. I swipe my credit card, and pick my fuel, $2.99 God that’s a lot of money for a gallon of gas. (Yes that’s the time frame in which this story takes place, sad we can think of how many years ago that was due to the minute cost of gas, looking at the pump now)

I hear that monotonous ringtone I should really replace with something catchy and cool, I’m not spending $2.99 to get ‘lose yourself’ blaring out of my phone. It’s my mom, eh I was hoping it’d be my brother, I answer anyways juggling the pump, my credit card, juggling plates, taming tigers and whatever else could possibly be going on at that moment.

Hey Meg, it’s Mom… Yes I’m aware, that’s what the caller ID is for, thank you though. “So we just got back, your brother’s inside…” She has this way about lingering statements that would be nice to hear as a whole sentence instead of the chopped version that makes me wait in anticipation; get it out woman. “The tumor is cancerous…they say Hodgkin’s lymphoma…”
There couldn’t have been any longer of a pause as I stood there at a loss for words, with a loss of breath, I couldn’t speak – my brain was doing its best to keep up with what it just heard. I had taken comfort in my brothers light heartedness about the whole situation, his playful remarks, and joking demeanor made me think that everything was going to be OK – he didn’t seem scared, so why would I. It was all at this moment, every feeling I’d not addressed or known in my 16 years of life, came flooding on in to wake me up and throw a red flag to my cerebellum saying, this could be it Meg, I felt blindsided and helpless.

I remember continuing to go for my drive after that, I knew what I was going to be facing when I walked in those doors upon returning home, as selfish as it may be, I just wasn’t ready. With every mile of road covered, my thoughts unfolded more and more; I let my mind wander to dark places they shouldn’t have even gone, I consumed myself with the what – if’s and imagination engulfing fallacies, I convinced could soon become realities. I drove for so long and so far that before coming home, I returned to that same gas station, pulled up to that same pump to refuel, almost to note in my mind that this was real and unlike the movies – we aren’t sure what the end is going to be.

After talking things over with the family, sitting, crying, hugging, crying some more, we came to the conclusion that we were all in this together; not an option to not be. This was my Junior year of high school, my brothers early years of college; the cancer forcing him to take a leave of absence to attend treatment to get better. It was weird and calming at the same time for him to be living in the room next to me again, it hadn’t been this way for a while – and I think I realized how much I missed it once he was back and I could see him whenever I wanted. I would return home from school and he would either be sleeping or lying on the couch and watching TV. If he was awake, I would usually join him in what he was doing – and if he was sleeping, I’d patiently (not so much) wait for him to open his eyes.

Watching the man I’ve looked up to for so many years struggle to walk around the house and stand strong was painful, looking inside myself and knowing I couldn’t be emotionally weak was difficult, being there to see my brother endure and conquer was nothing short of beautiful. We are lucky we didn’t have to say many lengthy goodbyes, or well thought out letters; instead we filled the air with I love you’s and I’m here for you’s. Sure there were bad days, there were days that were terrible for him, but he never once complained, ever. He always stayed so strong that it helped me to stay strong as well, it gave me the hope and belief I needed to imagine the day that he was cancer free and going about his life again. I will never forget the car ride to church one Christmas when things were looking grim, and he started to grow tired from the fight; we were casually talking about life and how we hated going to church on Christmas, but did it because that’s what our mother wanted. I kept staring straight ahead, not allowing my face to express anything but what it had prior to my question, I asked him “are you scared?…” A man so strong, one that held onto his emotions 90% of time, stared straight into the windshield as well, silent…then I heard a quiet and uneasy voice…”like hell”.

I’ve never loved and respected my brother more that day, being able to stay strong, hating all the attention he was getting for the negatives, holding steady to show that he was alright, was willing to let the walls down and let me walk on in. He showed me that at times of adversity it’s ok to be scared, it’s ok to hurt, and it’s ok to feel; it doesn’t make you weak, it doesn’t make you dramatic, it makes you real.

My brother is now cancer free living in Pennsylvania, owns his first home, has a nice job, a wonderful girlfriend, and the world in his pocket – it’s his abundance of fight that reminds me everyday to do what I love instead of what I have to, because there will come a day where the have to’s aren’t going to be worth it anymore. From watching my older brother struggle on a daily basis through radiation treatments, hear him sick to his stomach in the bathroom at least once a week from all the medication, losing weight at a rapid pace, and losing his hair (eyelashes, arm hair, facial hair as well) to seeing the man stand before me cancer free and strong, guiding me through life like he always has and will continue to do, I’m so very thankful.

On a day where we celebrate freedoms and recognize those who have fallen as soldiers, heroes, and loved ones; while honoring the living that fight everyday for us, I thank you now Kent. You are my hero, I couldn’t have asked for a better brother, and I couldn’t have wished for a better set of footsteps to want to follow in – thank you for always giving, and always caring; you mean the world to me and I’m so glad God gave you your fair chance at life. Many people find someone famous in the past or present to look up to, I’m lucky enough to have my hero always nearby. I love you.

Playing With Half The Deck

Your blessing, happens to also be your curse; you have the ability to lose all sense of reality and priority. You have the ability to love, and you are so loveable that it’s hard not to feel the contagious energy. Most of all you know how to be a comfort, a blanket of love when feeling alone, someone who can sit in silence and just hug the fear, sadness, or hurt out of me. But this blessing of love, has a quick turn around, a sharp left when we thought we were going right, a degree of darkness that makes you really ugly no matter how aesthetically pleasing you are on the outside.

On the surface you think you have it all together, but I can see through you and the tangled, tarzan vine, mess of emotion and feeling that’s going on in there. I know you’re scared, and I know you’re hurt; I know more than anything you push away because you’re scared that someone else might actually love you more than you love yourself.

You let me in, you love me, you care enough to make a degree of effort – but once you feel as though the work has been done – it’s back to the way it used to be. You love the idea of me, but when it comes down to the ‘work’ part – your thoughts are that it should just happen…I hate to break it to you, but like any realtionship in life, they all take work – and there are going to be bad days…it’s who you become of them that makes the ebb and flow of a partnership work. I’ve loved you through many bad times, and bad days – I want someone who will love me on my bad days as well. You give me the come here, go away kind of love – call me in 10 years, let me know how that’s working for you.

You love, and you keep people close, close with your laughter – infectous smile, warmth, and caring eyes; but as soon as you see someone caring too much; marching up to the gates of your heart with a lock pick and a blow torch – you turn cold. You care about you, nothing else, you distract your mind from what you feel to things that you only half heartedly care about. You seemingly forget that you aren’t the only person who may have had a ‘rough day’, that no matter what, although it’s nice when people ask how you are doing…it’d be wonderful to ask in return. It used to be a bigger picture because I couldn’t pinpoint the place of hurt, the place where I should find reason, and the place where emotions can take a plateau, because I didn’t see it then – now being removed many times and back in the game many more times…I see it for what it is – a spades a spade, and you’re only playing with half the deck.