Death Waits for No Man...

I've experienced a lot of death in my life, each time is different yet somehow the same. Whether it's old age, cancer, suicide, suspicious circumstances or accident...when it's time for death to collect its dues...there's not much that can change the outcome. Yes, sometimes through medical treatments or non-Western alternatives we can often slow deaths ever constant footsteps but in the end none of us get out of here alive. I've had clients die, and that's a special kind of pain regardless of the why's and how's...but recently a coworker passed away, seemingly rather quickly and out of nowhere. Of course there were some who knew "something wasn't right" or "he's really not looking well" but I never paid much mind because I was busy doing my job or in this particular situation, feeling angry and bitter that this coworker rarely ever showed for work, went home during the day while giving the illusion he was working or plain just didn't seem to care about the well being of those on his caseload. Not once did it ever cross my mind that maybe there was something wrong with him. Nor did ever come to mind that I could simply ask...I just plodded along, carrying resentment and disdain for someone I never really tried to get to know.

So when death came calling last week, I didn't hear the call but my coworker did. One day he was there, and the next he was gone. It came quick or so it seemed. While I don't know the details, or the background story to share with you...rumor is this, he had liver cancer and knew for some time. His choice to keep this his secret set in motion many things that serve as a wake up call for me, yet I still feel some level of anger over the fact that he carried that burden alone when there was so much more those in his life could have done to help...had we'd known.

But we didn't. And didn't care to find out.

I didn't care.

It's another story to add to the many before this, to be mindful of the burdens and joys that each of us carry yet remain hidden to the world. Our brains are hardwired to complete puzzles, connect the dots and take pieces from our environment and make a complete picture. Even if we don't have all the information our brain will still complete the puzzle...finish the line. So in the absence of information, I assumed he was lazy. Had no work ethic and simply showed up for the paycheck. It was crazy making and frustrated me to no end. Yet there was not one second I cared to ask him what his deal is...I just assumed. In the deep recesses of my mind I put together the observations my other coworkers shared about him, the things I had witnessed or the complaints of clients and formed a reality that while it angered me so...made more sense to me than CANCER.

I could have cared and I should have cared but my reality was a comfortable spot to be in even though each day I was met with anger when I walked in the door. There were days I stewed in my resentment because he showed up to work at 11am and left at 1pm, never to be seen the rest of the day or even answer calls. But as I sit here now, I feel horribly about the person I was to him. With all honesty and sincerity I can admit that I was not very nice to him. I let my brains reality cloud my vision and like an Ox in mud, I just stayed stuck.

So when I found out that he had died, my immediate thought and statement out loud was "I'm going straight to hell." But then a wave of anger hit me because he could have shared his burden and I would have been far more patient and kind...but here's the thing, I should practice patience and kindness no matter what the circumstances. That's the lesson in this story...well, one of the lessons. The other is to accept reality for what it is, and not assume you know something. Seek out information, be curious, and always keep in mind that what seems true to you...may not be true to someone else. We all carry those burden laden crosses, and even when we don't see them...the weight remains.

.............................................................................................................................................................

For my coworker-
Please forgive my attitude towards you. Please hear my sorrow. I should have made better choices and I thank you for this lesson learned. I apologize for not helping to carry your burden and for being selfish and mean. This will be something that I carry the rest of my life, and into the next. I pray your suffering was minimal, that you felt love with your family and that your journey was peaceful. Rest well. And I hope the view from the other side is amazing.

Century Link

A little over a year ago I started limiting my coverage of roller derby and was in search of different sports to photograph, that search led me to the Everett Reign All Female Tackle Football team out of Everett. Since becoming involved in their team and the associated league, I have had many opportunities that otherwise I never would have had the pleasure of enjoying. I’ve traveled with the team outside of the state, met a ton of wonderful athletes that play for other teams in both Washington and Oregon and had the amazing opportunity to do photography for the IFAF International Championships that were held over the summer in Langley BC Canada.

However great all those “perks” were, the one that really stands out is the amazing opportunity I had in August to be one of eight members of the team to attend a preseason game between the Seattle Seahawks and Kansas City Chiefs…not only attend the game but be a part of the half-time entertainment helping out the local Boys and Girls Club demonstrate the important role that sports play in the lives of young children. Four members of the team got to be on television and four members operated as “officials” for two games taking place on the field. I was an official for one of the games and for about 12 minutes ran around on the field where the pros play. It was possibly one of the best experiences of my life so I want to paint a picture for you of how that day went.

Now I’m not a big Seahawk fan, I just don’t follow professional teams with the same passion that I follow college teams, so when it comes to the big leagues I follow individual players…but for one day, I couldn’t have been prouder to be in Seattle. Myself and fellow teammates arrived around noon to get past security, get shown around, go through several practice runs of what we would be doing during half-time and getting all the timing down.  Once we finished that practice runs, we had some down time and were escorted through the bowels of Century Link Field, places the common fan doesn’t have access to. It was amazingly powerful having access to places just by flashing a wrist band…I never would have imagined such freedom, such intoxicating freedom. We were allowed to wander the stadium, most of it anyway as well as sample delicious food prepared for us in the fan zone well before it opened to the public.

I was incredibly overwhelmed by the moment, and so I took an hour to wander around the stadium by myself while my teammates finished eating and started playing games in the fan zone. I was able to walk the inner tunnels, watch both teams warm up, see the artwork in the various team offices and take the steps all the way to the fan platform where they raise the giant 12 man flag. It was amazing to have access to all these places where it was just myself and event staff. It was equally amazing to see all the inner workings of this bustling metropolis and all that it takes to make it possible for a football game to be played. I was so disappointed that I couldn’t bring my photography gear for this amazing day, so I documented everything I could with my phone, a very poor substitute it’s true…but still enough to take you on this journey with me. Our seats were in the upper deck…like upper, upper deck on the East crest of the field but even that wasn’t so bad because the sunset and the views from the seats overlooking the Puget Sound, the Wheel and Safeco Field was something other worldly.

When it came time for us to gather for our half-time duties, for a brief time I was standing on the field with Russell Wilson, Alex Smith, Earl Thomas and…..the moment was surreal. I was just a mere 15 feet from the Chiefs bench watching some of the highest paid players, play the game I love to watch. But I couldn’t spend time reveling in that moment because I was there to do a job, to make sure the Boys and Girls Club shown brightly and that the girls playing on the field would have an amazing experience. 

The moment was so big…the fans were so loud…to be down on that field with thousands and thousands of fans screaming was something I will never forget. And as big as that moment was, once I stepped foot on the turf to do my job as an official the moment suddenly became small and the cheers disappeared, the nerves went away and it was quiet. Suddenly it was just us kids playing football on a field. The many practice runs that we spent over an hour running through in the baking hot sun earlier in the day paid off, it wasn’t difficult to remember the lines, the directions or where and what to do like it was earlier. Things just felt natural and I wasn’t nearly as nervous as I thought I would be…I mean I’ve never been in front of that many people in my life. I realize I was nothing to them, just a big black dot on the turf playing the role of line judge for a brief game of flag football.

But I was standing on the Seattle Seahawks field. I was on blades of grass (plastic though it may be) that greatness has touched and I’m not just talking about hometown heroes. This field has been graced by the cleats of Tom Brady, Brett Favre, ……it was absolutely humbling.

I hope that every player that walks those inner halls, every staff member that dons those wrist bands, every person that gets the opportunity to follow my steps never loses sight of how blessed they are to be there. I realize that the players are just regular men, that there is nothing special about them and that they are no more or less human than I or you…but they have been granted access to an amazing venue.

Thank you to the Everett Reign, Seattle Seahawks and the Boys and Girls Club for this chance of a lifetime.

Derby Saved My Soul and Left It In Ashes

So many stories are like mine, lost or wandering souls looking for a place to belong, with like minded people who are accepting and loving. Derby was and is a place where you can find just that, but with time there's more...sort of like the fine print on a contract. It starts slow enough, you feel accepted, loved and cared about. You make lots of friends and you dive head first into amazing sport that's full of even more amazing athletes that do crazy things with their bodies on the track that leave you awe struck at their abilities. Derby becomes more than just a part of your life, it starts to flow in your veins and then you turn around one day and realize that your entire life is now derby. I suppose every sport is a bit like that, you dive in with all you have to become the best you can...but something along the way changes...people become bitter, gossip becomes the accepted currency and people who you don't even know seem to think they are experts in everything you are. The things that you once loved about derby...the love, acceptance and friendship, well it turns into hate, lies and strangers. People in your league or on your team, will walk right by you and if you are no one. It's a form of invisibility that never goes away.

You'll find that the only way to be accepted is to buy into everything that the "derby psyche" deems relevant. There comes a point where you are only accepted so long as you and your thinking fall in line. It starts innocently enough...inclusive and happy go lucky. But the minute you think outside the oval track, the preverbal wheels start to fall off your skates. I'm not sure if it's just hate, jealousy or middle school antics that bring out the haters...but they come, relentlessly. And God forbid you ever make a mistake or share something deeply personal...because then they become weapons for anyone and everyone. Even those you've never met or talked to.

So many people I have met in my 6 years in derby that share similar stories, where they felt accepted and loved only to fall out of line and become a "derby leper." While that I suppose, isn't that major of a deal on the surface, if you follow the logic deeper you realize that you've lost your friends in the real world while you were falling deeply in love with derby. You've missed moments with family, friends and other loved ones. You've donated hundreds, if not thousands of hours to this sport...you've bled, you've cried, you've given everything you have...everything you are...

Only to find yourself empty and on the outside looking in.

Not everyone can identify with this story, and that's great. But there are far too many that do. The lies, the gossip, the manipulations...they take a severe toll. They make skaters change teams. They make skaters change leagues. They make skaters quit.

Volunteers are no different...NSO's, officials, photographers, security, media, food, cleaners, and other people that give their time to leagues run out of passion for this sport. It's more than a lack of appreciation, or general warm fuzzies. At some point we all run into that wall where the battle is no longer worth the outcome...no amount of love and acceptance is enough to undo the damage of being taken for granted or used as fodder in gossip and drama.

Words have consequences.
Lack of acknowledgment has consequences.

My passion for this sport that was once brighter than the Sun has burnt to ashes. I take responsibility for my parts in its destruction, after all the brightest stars burn out the fastest.

Roller Derby, you are amazing but the "fine print" isn't worth it. And the fact that I wanted to die because of it...tells me that I need to walk away while there is still something left of me inside. I have met so many amazingly wonderful people along this 6 year journey, I don't regret it...my life would never be the same had you not come into my life. For good and bad.

But like I said, there came a point where I tried to end my life because of you, because of that "fine print"...but that's a story for another time. Or maybe one to file away in the lost archives of my mind.

Please be kind to each other...we are all we have.

Today I Thanked God

Traffic was horrible today on the way back to Marysville from New Westminster, BC...still riding the high from spending time with people who love and support me from both here and abroad. Catching up with old friends and reconnecting with my camera settings for derby. The smog was heavy from the local wild fires in BC but the air cleared somewhere around Bellingham. It took a while to get there though, the wait time at the border was over an hour and once I got to the border agent, he looked exhausted and didn't even bother checking my ID, just the usual questions..."where do you live and why did you come to Canada?" I've never had to wait that long to cross the border but things work out for reasons we don't always understand in the moment.

Which brings me back to Bellingham, traffic quickly came to a halt from a rather fast speed, I was paying attention and back far enough to not have any issues with rear ending the car in front of me, but as is my habit since being involved in a wicked traffic collision in 1999, I always watch the driver behind me to make sure they are paying attention and slowing down. In an instant I try to flash my brake lights and/or look for a quick escape route should they not slow/stop.

So here's how it played out...I'm in the left lane, traffic goes from around 65 MPH to about 35 MPH in the blink of an eye. Then speeds up a little and then within about 200 feet suddenly stops. I'm stopped and I look in the rear view mirror to make sure the driver behind me was slowing and stopping as well. She stops quickly, I have room to move up a little and push on the gas just to get a little jump and as I move just a few inches forward I see her in the rear mirror get smashed from behind, slamming her vehicle forward...I see her head fly forward, then whip back and she grabs her head and tries to figure out what happened because she didn't register that she got hit from behind. In the blink of an eye, the extra inches that I had moved forward kept me from harm....whoever hit her from behind, smashed into her for a second time...likely because someone behind them weren't paying attention and so they jolted forward resulting in her getting smashed twice. I saw it all unfold, I saw the debris fly off the cars, I saw her car get slightly lifted in the air and twisted slightly off center, I saw her hair fly around, her hands grab her head...I can still see it all.

I drove about 50 feet further to where I could pull over out of traffic, smacked the hazard button, jumped out of the car and ran to her...she was just trying to open her car door and was unbuckling her seat belt. She looked dazed and confused but when I asked her if she was okay..."yeah I think I'm okay." I told her I was calling 911 for her and at that moment a younger looking guy came up to the car, likely the one who just rammed into her and he asked if she was okay...I turned to run back to my car to get my phone and had just dialed 911 when the guy approached me saying, "you don't need to call 911, we are just going to exchange insurance information, there's not really any damage and she's okay so you don't need to call." As if timing couldn't be any more perfect, when the dispatcher answered the phone, I saw flashing lights pulling up behind the trail of smashed cars...the dispatcher asked her questions, asked if EMS needed to come out for injuries, I advised that she said she was okay, but she's going to have bad whiplash because she basically got hit twice...and I've been there and I know that while she may not feel it now...she will. The dispatcher thanked me and I went back to check on the woman who was at this time approaching my car. We met halfway and she started to cry, "I don't understand what just happened, did I hit you? Are you okay? I'm so sorry."

I placed my hand on her shoulder and looked into her eyes which were very hazy and confused and told her that I called 911 regardless of what the other guy said. I advised her that she was hit twice, and that while she may not hurt right now, she will. In fact she was already getting the seat belt bruise around her neck. She was sobbing, I did my best to comfort her which ultimately was me just speaking slowly and clearly...I told her she likely wouldn't remember a lot of what is happening right now so she needs to talk with the officer and/or paramedics and follow those orders. Write things down because she won't remember. She thanked me over and over again and kept apologizing, even though I told her that she didn't hit me. I looked her in the eyes and said, see a doctor, have someone with you and try to remain calm. She asked "how did I not hit you...you were just inches in front of me?"

I don't know, but that brief moment of me pulling forward just a few inches saved me from what ended up being a 3 car pile up. She missed me by just a mere inch or two.

As I drove away, my brain started processing what I had just been involved in and my skin gripped me with goose bumps, I could see everything so clear, almost in slow motion. I had to regulate my breathing and then I broke down into tears.

Thank you God. Thank you for saving me. Thank you for my angels or whoever you have placed in charge of me. Thank you God for keeping me safe. Thank you God for the chance to help someone else who was in clear need. Thank you God for hearing my prayers of safe travels to and from my destinations. I realize it wouldn't have killed me, but I've been in the pain of whiplash...the horrible piercing pain in your head like someone is stabbing you with ice picks and the never ending vertigo. Thank you God for keeping me from experiencing that again.

Side note: It was about this time last year that I wanted to die, tried to die. Wished to die. The pain and drama in my derby life, the bullying and the lies spread about me...I wanted it to all be over. Clearly my attempts and desires of the time failed...and I find it ironic that today I thanked God for keeping me alive.

Why I Ride...

I've been around motorcycles my entire life, some of my earliest memories are of me on my dads bike and even my mom tells me story of riding in-between she and my dad on a bike...of course I was too young to remember that but I remember a lot. I was either sitting on the tank with my blankie (which got burn marks in it from touching the engine) or sitting right behind him ever so confident that nothing bad would ever happen. It's unfortunate that I couldn't spend my life on those bikes...getting back on one is proving to be very troublesome. Not because I don't have a bike, I actually have two. And it's not because I don't know how to ride, because I do. Technically there isn't anything that should stop me from riding.

But.

I'm incredibly self-conscience...even more so now that I just keep getting fatter and fatter. Yeah I know, just lose the weight. Well, you know what...I have and every time I lose, I gain back that plus extra. Hence my "give up attitude of late." I hate being fat, I hate who I am. But that's not what this post is about. This post is about the fact that because of my self-perception, my own beliefs of what body size is acceptable and quite honestly, my own paranoia that everyone is looking at me and laughing.

I still remember the first time that I realized people were making fun of me and not laughing with me but at me. WIDE LOAD was the sign taped to my back. Even the teacher laughed. Sixth grade set the tone for the rest of my life. Anyway I digress, so my issue with riding is that in my head everyone is saying to themselves or thinking to themselves...

"holy shit look how fat that chick is and she's on a bike...I'm surprised she hasn't crushed it or blown out the tires."

"wow that girl is fat, she shouldn't be on a bike."

"WIDE LOAD."

I am so fearful of looking like an idiot or a fool...at least in a car/truck my fat is mostly hidden but in a motorcycle it's out there for everyone to see. So I'm riding around and thinking to myself at every intersection..."thank God I have a helmet on so no one knows it's me" or "I'm so glad I have sunglasses on so no one can see how scared I am."

When I was younger riding was relaxing and fun, now it's stressful and anxiety inducing. I love riding, I miss the freedom of shifting through the gears and just being one with the bike. But try as I might, I can't get my head to just let everyone who has teased me endlessly go...I can't let the stinging words and laughter escape my brain. It's a horrible feeling...to never be free of the words 12 year olds said to me. 30 years later...it's still there...strong as ever.

I just want to ride...and be free. I want to feel confident in myself and just ride. Maybe if I can just ride far enough and fast enough...I'll find who I really am...the thin and athletic person I feel is trapped inside this blob of fat...this old, broken down shit hole of a body. Maybe then I can forget their words and be free.

So everyday I want to ride...I don't. Fat people shouldn't ride. Blah. Blah. Blah. Sigh.

It's been 365 days...

April 10^th marks a year since I had to say goodbye to you, since the moment I saw your eyes close for the final time…it’s been a year since my life lost direction and a year since I last heard your heart beat. Every night I blow a kiss to your grave, and turn on the table light…so you always have a light to guide you home. I have worn your collar and tag for 365 days without fail. Not one day has gone by that I have not thought of you, prayed that you are happy and pain free or missed you. On what was your first day of peace…was my last day of peace.

I would still give anything to open my eyes and see your tiny nose, your wayward mustache hairs…and that soft gold brown of your eyes meeting mine. I still have a horrible emptiness in my heart and soul that only you can fill…sometimes the emptiness screams at me and I break into tears…uncontrollable tears. But sometimes the emptiness is quieted by the knowledge that you are waiting on the other side for me.

It is a tragic feeling waking up everyday and not find you near me…and my heart still breaks when you are not there to greet me at the stairs. I could write a novel about how I miss you…love you…wish you were still here…but they are just words.

Just hollow words that I try to use to convey feelings that no one should experience.

Simply put…I lost my best friend, my soul mate 365 days ago. I will never be whole again…but I am trying to find a different version of me, a different version that has to carry on without you. A lesser version, full of pain and sorrow…weak and fragile…

It is true that day 365 hurts less than day 1…26…75…201, but only because I’ve become used to the pain. It is constant, and has become a sort of companion to me. A reminder of how deeply my heart can love and be loved and what awaits me on the other side.

So on this day I put into words my sorrow, pain, anguish and heartache at losing you. Yet still coming to terms with the fact that I feel responsible for your death…but my dear Roxy, I couldn’t handle seeing you in so much pain.

I remember telling you on that fucking horrible day that you would need to tell me when it was time because I couldn’t make that decision for you…and you looked at me with such weary eyes…

I didn’t feel that I had a choice.

I will carry that burden my entire life, until such time that you set me free. I am so sorry…so painfully sorry that I could not take your pain away and make you better. I tried, I promise I tried.

 
 Roxy, I never knew I could love so deeply, so completely until you came into my life. For better or worse, the loss of that love has left me drifting in an empty sea of tears. And if given a choice, I would still give my heart to you.

I miss you.

I love you.

Every. Single. Damn. Day.

When Hope Died

I remember a time when people thought it would be funny if Trump was president. Insert jokes on end...SNL skits etc. At some point, shit got real and now here we stand, mouths open in disbelief, confusion written across our faces...as we try to make sense of something that is completely nonsensical. 

I am sad beyond belief, not necessarily that Trump has appeared to become our next president...but sad about how divided we as a nation have become. How fractured we are and how so many people can find themselves following the wolf in sheeps clothing...blindly following because they are so desperate to believe in something more. 

We are a nation in turmoil.
We are a nation confused.
We are a nation lost.

Sometimes when we lose something, we realize how much we loved it and how important it was to us. Sometimes we have to have something taken away in order to realize we were taking it for granted.

This my friends is one of those times. Sadly, this is our life now and we must pick ourselves up and try and make the changes necessary to redeem ourselves. 

We have let the world down.
We have let womens rights slip through our fingers.
We have let every minority know they are worthless. 

I will not vacate America, but I am resolute that I will be part of the solution and not the problem. America is great now, it has always been great and always will be great. 

We are lost but change comes with time...growth can be painful. Hold strong my friends, do not lose sight of our destiny but more importantly support each other. Love each other. Be kind.

#loveeachother
#bekind
#supporteachother
#findourway

I love you America. I love you my family. I love you my friends. Regardless of who you voted for. I am confident that we will find our way.

#iloveyou
#practicepatience