There's no place like home

There's a certain struggle that many transplants, as we are often referred to in Arizona (you know, the individuals from the east coast and Midwest who move here in hopes of finding a great job on top of the already great weather), have in terms of staying here long-term/forever, or returning to the motherland, or a place nearby it. Such is always the case for me, especially after spending such a great time with family last week. For the first time in I don't even know how long ago, I spent a great deal with both sides of the family, and it was absolutely everything I could have expected and more. It's a shame Alfie couldn't attend. He tried everything in his power to do so. While packing, he was on me like glue. He also took the liberty of placing a couple of his own items into my suitcase. I can't even make this up.

If there was absolutely anything whatsoever I looked forward to upon my arrival back to AZ, it was seeing him. Now that I'm back in the tuna can condo, I have God to thank that he's here with me. Without him, I can't describe the loneliness and depression that would hover around in this place. Granted, I appreciate a great deal of alone time and the sound of silence. I think it comes with the territory of having been raised as an only, but after being reminded of what life is like around my family much more often, it does make me feel rather nostalgic. I'm afraid even the great job and weather don't fill the void.

It's hard telling what the future holds. I went to a psychic a couple years back who made me feel optimistic about some things, and even though some of what she said did indeed happen, even she didn't have all the answers. Maybe it's just better not knowing what is to come.

Before this post becomes more somber, I leave with highlights of my trip last week:

Dinner at my cousin Kurt's in memory of our grandmother. More importantly was sampling his homemade wine, which is brewed right in his basement. Lovely taste, I might add.

Spending time with Jackie Panizzo, my only remaining grandparent and the queen of my soul.

Celebrating dad's wedding, and realizing while there that pure happiness in a relationship is a real thing.

And of course, spending time with Lila, who is growing way too quickly.

Side note: photo booths at weddings are really, really awesome.

So, while now back in AZ, true reality kicks in tomorrow. It may just be time to start re-evaluating my goals.

"Life happens when you're busy making other plans."

This spring/summer has been one of the busiest I've ever had. A new job, lots of travel, and reunions with friends have prevented me from knowing my head from my behind on most days. I can't complain, though. Some of the people I've seen in the last few weeks I haven't seen in years. It's such a beautiful thing. It's even more beautiful, because when "life happens", it puts things into perspective, such as how important the people and memories in our life actually are.

Exactly two weeks ago I blogged about the refuge I received at the beach and the concern I had regarding Alfredo's tumor. Well, just as I also referred to the glass being half full/empty in my previous post, there's more good and bad news to share. The good great spectacular news is that Alfredo's tumor appears to be benign, according to the pathology report. Although the veterinarian put my mind at ease, I chose to sign him up for surgery as soon as I could. The date was set for June 11th.

Then, June 9th came. There are certain moments in our life that stick in our minds and may continue to haunt us when the news is bad. Such is the case when I received news outside of Maggiano's, putting a birthday celebration to stop dead in its tracks. Nanee, mom's mom, wasn't in good health, and although she was placed in hospice just a few days prior, she was fading, fast.

Nanee passed away the following morning, which for good reason, has now put a hold on other things, including Alfredo's surgery which has been rescheduled for two weeks from now. As a result, I'll be headed back to the motherland next Tuesday, and again, will see family members whom I haven't seen in years. As difficult as death is, I look forward to seeing family, and I'm sure glad my grandmother no longer has to suffer. The consequences of a severe stroke, combined with the advanced stages of Alzheimer's, is certainly no quality of life and is difficult to observe of a person you love. The American culture might accept a great pair of legs, chiseled abs, a fit butt, or perky boobs as a person's greatest asset, but who really are we as humans without a brilliant, functioning mind?  

All I can really say now is that I'm grateful for my friends, my family, my health, my dog, and all of my wonderful memories. Sometimes life happens, shaking up our daily routine. There's one thing that's certain, though. It is also incredibly precious...and just too, too short.