sing hallelujah!

Sometimes life gets hard.

You work all day, study all night and hope for a better life.

Then, sometimes your dad gets cancer. and some things just aren't as important anymore.

Joy doesn't come from working hard anymore.

Joy comes from seeing my dad wrapped up in a hammock in a ray of sun days before the Chemo starts poisoning his body.

Joy comes from catching butterflies with my 3-year old niece, taking goofy pictures with my 6 year old niece, and from the laughter that comes from my nephew when I tickle him.

Joy comes from preparing a meal for friends.

Joy comes from a night of popcorn, pizza, wine, and good Kung Fu movies with a friend.

Joy comes from smiles in a hospital when dad puts the last two chocolates on the end of his bed and looks at me. who cares about calories then?

Joy comes from a long walk and a talk when we should be studying.

Joy comes from a hot shower on a cold morning.

Joy comes from a full moon on a clear night.

despite the scary things in life, God has a way of reminding you to stop and enjoy the moments that really matter.

Those moments are not regret, anger, hate, judgment, or competition. These are things that are a total waste of time because they do nothing to bring about the good moments.

Sometimes your dad gets cancer and you realize that the pettiness isn't worth it and that it's ok to cut out the negative people and things in your life because they are only a waste of time.

I'm not a self-help guru or anyone who is very important to anybody. But, if you have read this far, take my advice and knock it off!

Stop hurting people, stop talking behind their backs, stop judging, stop hating, stop wasting your time, 'cuz you don't have as much of it as you think you do.

Start loving, start laughing, make goofy faces, catch a butterfly, give thanks, sing a song, take a picture, take a day off work, spend time with your family instead of your school work, walk away when negativity walks through the door or calls you on the phone.

And most importantly; no matter what happens in life, look up to the sky and sing Hallelujah!

riding it out....

I’m on a roller coaster called Cancer.

My dad is riding in the front seat with my mother
my sister and brother and I are sitting behind them.
On the first turn, are CAT scans, blood tests, PET scans, biopsies.
Then we begin our ascent to the loop of horrible prognosis
and we begin to feel death.
As we come down from the first loop,
we feel hope and smooth sailing
The next loop comes fast and we see that the loops don’t end.
Each one is more Chemo, more hospitals, more tests
All I want to do is jump off this coaster,
but I am fastened in tight and can barely breathe
I’m too weak
My crying has ceased

Dad

My dad is big and strong. He is over 6 feet tall and his sholders are broad. He is quiet and reserved and sits in his chair from early in the morning till late at night reading his books. He doesn't watch sports or TV, hunt, drink beer, disrespect women or yell. He is gentle, kind, loving, and he listens. He fishes, gardens, reads, hikes, camps, and teaches us how to enjoy nature, love God, care for others, and explore the world. He loves people. He is always standing at the sidelines and in the audience cheering me on. He hates confrontation, war, mean people, and pettiness.

When I was five, he had cancer for the second time. I watched as the hair fell from his head and the weight fell off his body as he struggled with chemo. I visited him in the hospital. Then, I watched as he got better, grew his hair back, and slowly got strong again. For 25 years, he has been healthy. A few weeks ago, we were at the beach and he was very sick. When we got back, his high fever lasted over a week. After a bout of antibiotics, the doctor had him come in for a CAT scan.

Today, we found out that he has a growth on his liver and an irregular LFT on his blood tests. Tomorrow he goes in to meet with a surgeon to schedule a biopsy. I feel sick. After he told me, I went into the shower and cried so he wouldn't know I was already thinking the worst. Now, I don't know how to wait without my mind being totally consumed with what will happen next. somehow I thought writing might help.

just have to get it off my chest

ok, so I should be working on the 5 Grad papers I have to write this weekend, but I have to get something off my chest first. I recently started a new job at a Mission Organization where we often have to take a truck out and pick donations up from various locations. On my first day there I had to fill out my information in order to be put on the insurance policy. One of the questions read, "marital status." I thought this was strange seeing that I don't remember having to fill this out on my own insurance policy, but I figured it didn't matter much. So, I proudly checked "single" and was done.

A few days later I was told that, even though I am 30, and have a clear driving record, that I could not be covered on this insurance policy because I was single and that would cost the $200 extra! I was astounded and angry! I can't believe that I am actually being discriminated against for being SINGLE! Jesus was single! George Clooney and Charlize Theron, both voted as the most beautiful people are single! The best Scotch is one that is a Single Malt. I am responsible, mature, and support myself. How exactly would marriage make me a better driver? I have friends that have been married for a while who are reckless drivers and who even drive drunk, but their insurance would be lower simply because they have a spouse.

If anything, I am doing this world a favor by being single. The world is over populated and the only way I will have kids is to adopt. And, since I am not having sex, I am also not spreading disease. I don't need a minivan or SUV to cart all my stuff and kids around, so I can drive a small eco-friendly sedan. Also, with all the extra time I have, I volunteer more, I support the economy by shopping more, I laugh more, and I have more time for my friends. So to all of you insurance people out there who are basing your charges on stupid statistics, here's a statistic for you: almost 50% of marriages end in divorce and the majority of those divorces are of people who were married BEFORE the age of 30! (http://www.divorcerate.org/) The divorce rate for people like me, who have waited till after 30, is less than 10%. Eat that statistic!

~I'm done

An Easter Conversation

Ok, so this didn't actually happen on Easter, but it was a touching conversation between my niece and I and I have the time today to share it....

Recently, while standing in my parent's backyard with my 6-year-old neice, Elianna, I was watching my 7-year-old nephew, Junito play soccer with my dog. Then, probably as a result of consuming some type of dairy, I farted.

Elianna: (laughing and squishing up her face) Ewwwww, Aunt Bekah, that's gross! Say excuse me!

Me: Sorry. (laughing) That's why I'm single.

Elianna: What do you mean?

Me: Well, guys don't find it attractive when girls fart. So, here I am at 30 without a Husband.

Elianna: (thinking for a moment and then her eyes pop open) You should just wait till Junito grows up! You can marry him 'cuz he loves farts.

Me: Somehow I don't think that will work out.

Yellowstone (Part 2)

Well, it took a less than impressive ice storm for me to finally sit down at my computer and finish my Yellowstone story. I apologize to my readers (all 3 of you) that it has taken so long, but things have been a little crazy lately and it is hard for me to sit still for more than 5 seconds and it definitely takes longer than that to write this stuff. Anyway, sit back and enjoy....

On Sunday morning, my friend and I woke up to a beautiful day, went to a small, but lovely church in Great Falls and returned home. I was excited that he was taking me to Yellowstone and appreciated the fact that he was even splurging a bit for a nice hotel. So, I did what I'm best at and went to the kitchen to whip up a little pre-trip "thank you." This consisted of coffee and my special 3-egg salsa/veggie omelets which are, if I can say so myself, delicious! We then headed out into the unusually sunny Montana afternoon to tape a bit of women's soccer and go straight to the editing room.

After my friend was done doing work, we met several of his friends in a local park for a lively game of touch football. I wanted to join in, but was told I was not allowed, so I dressed up a bit just in case a potential Mr. Right happened to be at play that day. No Luck. Some of the other guys asked why I wasn't playing which just made me mad at myself for not insisting. I should have told my friend to screw himself, put on a pair of sweats, and run out onto the field. Instead, I sat in a lawn chair on the sidelines and ran for Gatorade when the boys got thirsty. Lame. I know.

As the sun went down and it began to get a little chilly, they wrapped up the game and we headed back home to get our stuff ready for Yellowstone. I had waited patiently most of my life and now all day to finally go and was completely stoked about what I was about to do. Unfortunately for me, my friend had worn himself out playing ball and was tired and in a miserable mood. We barely spoke on the 3-hour ride to the hotel. In my mind, I thought of a million things I could ask him and of all the things we could talk about, but didn't want to bother him any more than I had to. I figured if I left him alone that night he would get a good night's rest, and be fun to be with again in the morning. Little did I know….

When we arrived at the hotel, we walked into the impressive lobby and I immediately felt like we were back in the old west and that everything was about to get better. The woman who worked there was small-town and friendly. The décor was straight out of a John Wayne film and I was excited that I was going to get to stay in such a unique and Montana-esque place. I felt like I was about to be rewarded for being so patient for so long.

Despite the fact that I had called two days prior to make reservations, given my credit card, had a confirmation number and a room number and there was a sign out front that said "vacancy," we were quickly informed that they had no record of us and had no available rooms. Here is where the trip started going completely down hill.

Where Have all the Cowboys Gone?

Seriously....can someone please show me a man who says what they mean and who isn't a complete ass hole? I'm getting sick and tired of being lead to believe that I've finally found a true cowboy...a gentleman...only to find out he's just like all the rest. I just don't think I can take one more guy building me up and tearing me down once again.