Things Are Changing

So first off, I want to start with sharing the fact that apparently I'm just a really awful blogger. I'm really good at having a Tumblr, and a Twitter, and a Facebook. But a "real" blog is apparently not for me. I have no idea how people keep up with these things weekly, let alone daily, or how people could possibly make money off of them. I, on the other hand, apparently like to post once every 3-6 months with the hopes and aspirations that I'll post more often, only to be let down by my innate inability to find anything important or interesting to post about. I could probably post tons of pictures of kittens every day, but that's not what this blog is here for.

Moving on. Obviously a lot has changed in my life in the last 9 months. I moved to Maryland, was forced to stop riding horse in the meantime, learned a lot about myself, and that's just the beginning.

A little over a month ago I got notice that my Uncle had been placed in the hospital with signs that he had suffered another heart attack. This was not a new experience for me. I have often gotten news that he was sick again, even hospitalized, and often gotten word of it after he had come home. You see, my Uncle's body was very sick. He suffered his first heart attack on September 11, 2001, mostly thought to be brought on by the stress, shock and horror of the terror attacks on the United States. Since then, he had had several minor heart attacks, open heart surgeries (including a quadruple bypass), and all in all was in desperate need of a heart transplant. He also dealt with other illnesses, such as diabetes, that added to his lack of wellness over the years. So learning that he was in the hospital was not a shock. But this time it felt different.

If you did not know that my Uncle lived with these ailments, you would not have guessed. He did his best to be there for us as nieces whenever he could, especially as he never married and did not have any children of his own. We were his children. Once in the middle of July he went with my cousins and me to the Houston Museum of Natural History and ogled at the dinosaurs, allowing me to break the rules and touch the exhibits (all for a photo opportunity of course), despite the obvious "do not touch" signs. He simply looked the other way. We would watch football, horse racing and baseball together, and he was the only person in the world that could keep me interested in the Tour de France for longer than about 10 seconds.

But when I got that call, I knew something was different. This time he was intubated, something that had happened very rarely, if ever before. His kidneys were failing and his body was shutting down. I wanted to jump in my car or on a plane and be there with him, because I had an underlying feeling that he would not be with us for long.

I was right.

One Tuesday night I was up late doing homework, and I jokingly asked a friend to buy me a plane ticket to Houston. He declined, obviously. The next morning, I woke up feeling very ill, like something was wrong. I decided to not go to class that day and fell back asleep. I woke up a few hours later with a text message from my dad (and if you know my dad, you know he never texts) that read "Call me when you are out of class." I knew then.

I called him anyways and he told me the news, and I immediately started crying. I was glad I had stayed home. Oddly, my pets had been extra cuddly that morning as well, as if they knew before I did. I called my mom and we started discussing travel plans and coping, etc. Most of all we talked about how we were glad that we had taken the time to drive to Houston for Thanksgiving.

One big discussion that we had was how I felt the need to be there for the funeral, but coming that Saturday was my very last chance to compete for a local title to go to Miss Maryland, and as this is my last year, it would have been my last chance ever. As I was laying in bed trying to figure out how to be an adult again (aka, I was watching The Land Before Time and eating ice cream), I got a text message from a director that I had had previously in the year (actually the very first pageant I did in Maryland).

Teresa asked me if I was busy and could talk on the phone, I said no, and she gave me a call. The conversation that followed informed me that I was the new Miss White Oak 2014 and would be going to Miss Maryland. I would not have to compete on Saturday, a mere days after my Uncle passing away and hours before having to fly to his funeral. I cried while on the phone with Teresa, both out of grief and excitement.

For a while I didn't know how to feel. I didn't know if it was okay to be happy about my title because of the circumstances I was also in. I didn't know if I could celebrate one thing and mourn another. After a few days I was able to separate the two emotions and could be excited for my opportunity to compete for Miss Maryland while still mourning the loss of a loved one. I took my new crown to the funeral to show my Uncle, who never got to see me compete.

Most importantly from all of this, is the fates work in mysterious ways. My uncle would not have been healthy enough to come see me at Miss Maryland or even Miss America. Had I had to compete that Saturday I most likely would not have won, as I would have been too emotionally compromised.

My Uncle is the most inspirational person I've ever known. He never finished college, but is easily the smartest man I have and will ever know. He traveled the world in his lifetime, and I now have a piece of the Berlin wall that he picked up straight off the ground after the fall of the wall. He was asked to be a body guard at the Seoul Olympics, but turned down the offer as he did not want to carry around an AK-47. He was a hardcore conservative, but understood that war takes live and is detrimental to our economy, our society, and the lives of people around the world. He pursued everything he loved in life. And most of all, he taught me that life is too short to spend it doing something you hate because it's what you think society would want you to do.

For a man who was 54, he was wise beyond his years. My only hope in life is that one day I can influence as many people as he did. I hope that one day, people look up to me as they looked up to him. And I hope my pancakes can be half as good as his were.

I love you, Uncle. Rest in Peace.