Home is Where the Heart Is

It goes without saying that I am a "touchy-feely" kind of person.  I function mostly on gut reactions and use logic only as back up.  I never took a deductive or inductive reasoning class in college as I knew I would fail the sucker.  My decisions make sense to me (well, of course they do, I make them).  However, I can see how this can make other people in my life crazy. 

Recently I went to San Francisco with my boss for a Family Centered Care Conference.  Truly, it is a "well, duh" concept that most people don't get.  I spent four days listening to how people set up parent advisory committees (although never have them on quality review boards), try to coach staff to actually ask the parents what they want to have happen (eventhough they do not share this info with the docs who are making the care plan), and try to create a patient flow workspace (that is until the budget gets in the way.)  It was a frustrating 4 days.  I did have good food, see the ocean, and climbed a lot of hills which I suppose is what I picture San Francisco to embody anyway. 

About 6 years ago I thought I wanted to live in San Francisco.  I was actually applying for jobs in a city I had never visited.  It sounded like a great place to go.  It was diverse, social issue focused, liberal, and had a lot of things to do.  Somehow I got stuck back home, but this is a different story.  It is funny, but when I actually got to the city for my first time in 2001, I wasn't so impressed.  It was a great city, but it just didn't feel like my city.  It was too big.  There was too much traffic.  It was too cloudy and grey.  I felt isolated in a crowd.

I felt the same way about Washington, D.C..  I actually have dated two guys from that area and each time it got serious, I was approached about moving there.  I panicked.  I spent some time there in 1995 where I again faced the same grey, rude, big city, isolation.  No way, no how.  I could rationally go there and think, "Gee, if I loved the guy enough, our relationship would help me survive and thrive in the city."  Uh, wrong, try again!  My gut just couldn't agree.  There are other cities I know I wouldn't be happy in and they are as follows:  L.A., Las Vegas, New York, Houston, anywhere in Wyoming, anywhere in Idaho, Phoenix, Colorado Springs, Sacramento, Reno, Detroit.  I apologize to those who live there and are happy in advance of my judgement.

There are other cities I love.  I've spent little time there, but I know that I would be happy.  Austin, Texas.  I spent about 24 hours there and was ready to move.  I also know I would be extremely happy in Minneapolis, Minnesota.  The people are friendly, there are neighborhoods with their own character, a lot of culture, diversity, and its socially pro-active.  I didn't really mind the winter either. 

When I was ready to set up some roots I ended up in Salt Lake.  My decision to buy a home literally was a done deal in about two weeks.  What can I say?  My heart spoke to me. 

Other cities I would consider moving:  New Orleans, Atlanta, Dallas, San Diego, Boulder, Portland, Indianapolis (only due to loved ones there), Chicago, ... and others I cannot remember at this time. 

I wish there was a scientific way of examining cities.  There isn't.  I just go on what feels right.  I would consider moving to Wisconsin over Ohio anyday.  I couldn't tell you why, it just feels right. 

They say that home is where the heart is.  They also say that some of your closest family members are not blood related.  I believe in both statements; I'm just waiting until everything just "feels right." 

Be Mine

I hate Valentine's Day.  Really, I have yet to find someone who LOVES it.  When I was younger, it was without fail that the night before I would complete my shoebox valentines depot for class and then wake up with the stomach flu.  My brother would then lug this Buster Brown's box now covered in red construction paper and pink hearts to carpool then off to my class.  This lonely box would gather store bought valentines with either Superman or Garfield on them and if I were lucky, a few candy hearts in the bottom of the envelope.  I remember looking for THE valentine.  You know, the one from the crush in school.  The guy who wouldn't talk to you.  I would read into his candy hearts.  Did he really think I was "neat?"  Did he really think I was a "Q-T?"  Fact of the matter is, he was probably more interested in Kim or Merilee.  Ok, truly, let's be honest.  He probably loved the Broncos more than some stupid girl.

As I've gotten older I equate New Years with Valentines Day.  Its the same stupid relationship pressure only a few weeks later.  The same questions exist.  Who do you kiss?  Who will choose you?  And the most important question:  will you want who chooses you? 

The only thing I can count on is my Dad on Feb 14th.  My family is not very big on holidays.  However, every Valentines Day I can always count on a small heart shaped box of chocolates from the grocery store from my Dad.  I find it really sweet.

One year I actually braced myself for a blind date.  It was with a resident at the hospital.  We went to a play and then to sushi.  He was very nice but the pressure of that stupid holiday ruined things.  I have to give it to him.  He was even quite suave with chocolates from a Utah institution, Cummings Chocolates, and flowers from Bloomingsales.  Nice touch!

There was another year in my sorority days when four of us rented a room for the sole purpose of having a place to hang out and drink.  We went to dinner and then back for some cocktails and swimming.  I think that night, if memory serves, the guy told me he loved me for the first time (I was thrilled with this news at the time).  He was also the stupid guy who thinks that all a woman wants is a Victoria's Secret box.

Good point to stop and give advice.  Men:  Do NOT give your lady a gift from V.S. on a holiday to celebrate her.  Really, it is a gift to YOU.  That's like us giving you a gift of us having a manicure/pedicure.  Please, do you think we are that stupid?

My very best Valentines day was two years ago.  I was stranded in Baltimore with the storm of the century.  It began with breakfast in bed at the hotel I was staying at for a conference.  I then got a package from my boyfriend.  Very romantic card, tea, a cd and candy.  I wasn't expecting anything as we had only been dating a short time so I was giddy beyond belief.  I couldn't believe he tracked me down!  The best part of the holiday was dinner.  Imagine four professional ladies at dinner on the waterfront surrounded by couples.  We were all sans beaus as we were at a conference.  We chatted over our heart-shaped ravioli and listed our top 3 times in our lives.  We each got a rose at the end of the night.  It was the best unplanned Valentines I've ever had.

I'm not certain what this year will hold, but it won't be anything spectacular.  My boyfriend is more than likely on call that night...2,000 miles away, might I add.  Nope, I'm not having anything more planned than me, a good book, and a grocery bought box of chocolates.

The Grief of Grief

My boyfriend thinks I'm a bit emotionally blocked.  Numb, if you will.  You see, I haven't had a really good cry since my grandmother died.  At work, people are walking around on eggshells with the empathic scrunched up face and a, "How ya doing?"  I make light of the situation and their faces get even more contorted with concern.  The thing of it is, I'm really not sure where my emotions are right now. 

As a trained therapist I know the 7 stages of grief a la Kubler-Ross; you just never think they apply to you.  Yesterday I was just utterly confused.  I got muddled on simple tasks, was highly unproductive with my day, and couldn't figure out what to do with myself.  Today I've lacked body perception.  For instance, I'm running into things.  (Re-reading this I know now I'm in shock.)

I can't even identify what stage my family is emotionally.  Yesterday everyone went about their business as usual.  Dogs were walked, taxes were done, jobs were performed, meals were cooked, and even medical appointments were made.  Not a single tissue was used.  No one immediately clustered together for joint solace and family support.  Today this trend continued until the anger stage struck.

It is displaced anger, but anger none-the-less.  Most of it was directed towards me.  Typically anger is before the depression and somewhere after denial.  I can't remember where barganing fits in, but that certainly hasn't hit. 

Things I also remember from my professional life:  crisis is not the time to reinvent the wheel.  You do what you know to make yourself feel better.  Some exercise, some withdraw, some write (guess who), some drink, some overeat, some smoke, well you get the point. 

My father has always been one to bond through fighting.  A good rousing argument is just what he needs to get engaged on an emotional level.  I can't say I was surprised when he called tonight ready to pick a fight over a topic he didn't fully understand.  He was just after the exchange.  The embarressing thing is that I took the bait.  I became defensive and ultimately hung up on him when I realized I didn't have the energy.  I instead wrote an email to my parents later (which again is my usual coping mechanism.) 

I'm braced for the full force to hit, but will it happen?  (If it doesn't I'm certain my anger phase will kick into high gear.)  The thing about grief is that it is a rapid cycle packed with punches you can't dodge...not even your parents rath.  Everyone experiences it differently and there really isn't one right way to do things.  The best thing you can do is to allow grace for everyone around you, not to take things personally, and own your own projections.  Its good advice to give, and good advice to take.