A fond farewell to 2011

Summer — Wed, 18 Jan 2012 04:43:51 +0000

2011 was a very tumultuous year filled with several ups and a very steep down. I started out the year with a lot of snowshoeing and took a very wet trip to Zion’s National Park. Then, in early spring, I met my boyfriend Cute who, by the way, still is not a fan of his Internet name (so if you see him, by all means, call him by it). In early June I backpacked through the Grand Canyon, something I am still amazed at myself for doing. I spent the summer very carefree with lazy Sundays by the pool and weekend hiking trips with Cute. In August I backpacked in the Uinta Mountains and in September I hiked Mount Olympus. Both adventures took my breath away, only in completely different ways. After that I spent 10 days in Mexico traveling from Guadelejara and Puerto Villarta with the most amazing Mexican family in the world (I never got around to blogging about it, but you can see pictures of me looking tan and happy here). When I returned from Mexico, my year of ups took on a new direction. Within the span of two weeks I moved in with Cute, was laid off from a job I loved, and found out that my mother had breast cancer. My world felt like it was a snow globe that a three year old got a hold of. On one hand being laid off was a blessing because I had more time to spend with my family (which is exactly what I did). On the other it left me with insecurities and questions of my worth. I struggled to accept that I am more than my career, that what I do for money does not define me as a person, all while wondering daily if my mother’s treatment plan would be successful and trying to let go of not having my own place – a place where no one see me cry or drink too much while watching junk TV.

It was hard times, y’all!

Then, as quickly as the snow globe storm rolled in, it was over. Well, not over over, but better. My mother’s mastectomy was hugely successful. She is now cancer free. Cute and I settled into a rhythm of cohabitation that works well for us. I am still technically without a job, but the things 2012 has in store for me are nothing short of life changing.

My love for myself, my family, and my relationships has grown more than I knew was possible. I see life with a strange new set of eyes now. I don’t want to take anything or anyone for granted. Almost losing a loved one, coupled with no longer being able to afford the lifestyle you’ve grown accustom to, will do that to ya.

I suppose looking back now, that 2011 was actually a great year for personal growth. Now that it’s over, I can say I’m thrilled to be moving on to a year with a little less growing pains.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Mount Olympus: Check that one off the list

Summer — Thu, 22 Dec 2011 00:17:02 +0000

It’s amazing what sort of adventures can get haphazardly planned when you leave two guys alone for five minutes. One second I hear Cute complimenting my Dad on his impressive garden and the next they are planning to hike one of Utah’s most challenging mountains: Mount Olympus, a mere 7.5-mile strenuous hike to one of Utah’s highest peaks (9,026 ft).

Sure guys, no big deal.

Next thing I know they have a date set and have wrapped my sister Staci into coming along too.

Ordinarily a tough hike such as this would not intimidate me. Hell, I backpacked through the Grand Canyon after all! But tackling Mount Olympus with my father and sister who, admittedly, had not been hiking all year, scared the living daylights out of me. My father has hiked Mount Olympus twice before. This may have made him feel reassured he could handle it, but as for me, knowing that the last time he hiked it was more than 15 years ago did little ease my growing fear that he would have a heart-attack halfway up the trail, die, and it would all be my fault.

I spent the weeks proceeding the hike going on evening hikes with Cute and doing butt busting cardio at the gym, while my father and sister continued to live their busy lives not feeling the urge to get physically prepared.

The night before the hike Cute and I rounded up an extra hiking pack and water bladder for my Dad because somehow I knew he would not have one. Sure enough, the next morning my Dad showed up with only a plastic water bottle, a Diet Coke, and one granola bar stating that was all he needed.

He quickly backed down and took the pack after Cute, Staci and I all teamed up and insisted otherwise.

We got a mildly early start on our hike which was supposed to take upwards of five hours.

It took us eight.

Mind you, this was eight hours in mid-August on a west facing trail with little shade from the scorching sun.

Hot, sweaty, limping, completely out of water, and with varying degrees of heat exhaustion, we all stumbled to the tippy-top and back down to the car in one piece. So what if it took us THREE hours longer than normal. The point is we made it!

On the drive home my mother scolded me for “dragging” my father on such a difficult hike. Dragging! Ha! Does it look like anyone in this world could force my father to do anything?

Look at the smile on his face. It’s so perfectly clear that his love for the mountains, stubbornness, and often impractical sense of being able to do anything in the world is so deeply ingrained in me that I don’t even realize it!

Oh how I love the crazy men in my life with their wonderful senses of adventure. I wouldn’t want it any other way.

To see more pictures of our hike check out my Flickr account.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Snow, Sweat, and Mosquitoes: My Birthday in the Uintas

Summer — Mon, 21 Nov 2011 19:59:41 +0000

My 31st birtday was over three months ago. It was amazing and it’s high time I wrote about it.

The first thing that made it amazing was that it did NOT involve a broken ankle, or any other bone for that matter (unlike last year). What it did involve was spending a weekend backpacking in the most beautiful mountain terrain with spectacular friends, my lover, and ten-bazillion mosquitoes.

The high Uinta Mountains in Utah are not place for sissies. In fact, the same weekend we were up there an experienced hiker went missing and a boyscout also almost chopped his leg off. The last one is due more to giving a pre-pubescent kid a hatchet than the intensity of the mountains, but I digress.

Over a three day weekend, our group of ten backpacked over 20 miles. This may not sound like the perfect birthday to you, but to me, it was heaven! We had beautiful, sunny weather for the entire weekend.

On Friday, the first day, we backpacked in four miles on the Highline Trail. We found a beautiful place to camp at Wilder Lake. Cute and I set up his ginormous tent a small way away from the fire and our group.

After setting up camp, we went on a two mile hike to Wyman and Packard Lakes. The views were simply breathtaking. If it wasn’t for the mosquitoes, I could have stayed up there, perched on a rock, absorbing the beauty of my surroundings all evening.

Speaking of mosquitoes, they were indeed horrible. Not your typical, sitting on the back porch getting a few bites horrible either. We had to wear mosquito head nets and gloves most of the time – especially in camp.

The only thing that made the mosquitoes bearable was a yummy box of Bota wine that Chris bought and Cute lugged up for my birthday.

On Saturday we made a very tough but awe inspiring ten mile round trip hike to Naturalist Basin. In the Basin, we hiked to six crystal clear lakes, all just under 11,000 feet elevation. This is where the snow part of the birthday equation came into play.

After returning back to camp, stiff, bitten, and only slightly worse for the ware, Cute and I decided to take a much deserved nap. To my delight, when we finally came up to camp I discovered a birthday surprise orchestrated by our amazing group leader, Roger.

I was completely surprised. It meant so much to me that he had gone out of his way to make my birthday special. Truthfully, it was special enough just getting to be out nature with my wonderful hiking friends – this was the icing on the cake to make it absolutely perfect.

After eating our freeze dried dinners and some packpacker cake, we continued the celebration by drinking ourselves silly around the fire with rum lemonade – yet another item Cute packed up the mountain for us.

On Sunday, we tore down camp and backpacked back to the trail head. Even though I had somewhere around 30 mosquito bites by this time, I didn’t want to leave. It was so beautiful, so peaceful. It was my version of a life void from stress and worry. There was absolutely no cell phone reception there. What a freeing thing it is to not be tethered to a phone! It was not until we drove out of the canyon my cell reception returned, along with 40 emails, 6 voicemails, and a dozen text messages. Honestly it wasn’t until then that I even recognized how many mosquito bites I had. I suppose life’s annoyances come together in packages.

It seems to me the mountains put everything into perspective. I marvel at how much people are willing to go through to be close to them. Extreme weather, harsh terrain, dangerous wild life, less than ideal food; none of it seems to matter so long as you are in nature.

Am I getting older? Yes. But through the lens cap of mother nature I am just a little sapling. Perhaps that’s part of what made my birthday so amazing; despite her challenges, nature just has a way of making you feel good about yourself.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

PS – to see more pictures, go to my Flickr page.

Is it really safe to breath again?

Summer — Fri, 11 Nov 2011 18:45:47 +0000

There is no real way to express the emotional toll taken on the family of someone who has cancer. It is a roller coaster that feels neverending. The constant waiting. The what if’s. The feeling of helplessness. The sleepless nights. The praying to a god you are not even sure exists.

It is exhausting.

After my mother’s mastectomy two weeks ago, they biopsied her tumor in 19 places. Four of the biopsies turned out to contain micro-invasive cancer while the other 15 were the expected non-invasive DCIS (Ductal carcinoma in situ) cancer her original biopsy had shown.

The invasive cancer was new. Something we were not prepared for, especially since we were reading the pathology report (my mother is a nurse and able to obtain a copy prior to having an appointment) without a doctor there to explain it. Our minds automatically spiraled in every direction as to what it would mean to her treatment. On the day of my mother’s mastectomy the doctor came to the waiting room and told us that the tests to her lymph nodes confirmed that the cancer had not spread. We cried with relief. The thought that the cancer might still have the ability to spread and that more treatment would be necessary was a devastating blow.

But now, after a whirlwind of ups and downs, they are telling us that it is over. Yes, over. Yesterday I spend a gut wrenching 3.5 hours at my mother’s oncologist appointment, the majority of which was spent waiting. Oddly enough, her first oncologist appointment will be one of her last. The doctor took us through a mini-lesson on the types of cancer, how they spread, how they are treated, and why options would or would not work in my mother’s case. Then, at the end of his lesson while we were all on pins and needles, he finally wrapped things up by telling us the magic words that my mother’s treatment was done. The micro-invasive cancer was smaller than 1mm and the chances of it spreading were less than 10%. That means no chemo, no radiation, and no hormone therapy.

Over.

I can’t even begin to tell you how happy we all are. We have been so loved, supported, and spoiled with cookies and prayers through this whole process. It meant the world to my mother knowing that she had such a strong support team behind her.

Somehow it still doesn’t seem real. I have had this constant feeling of worry as my companion and now I have permission to let it go. You’d think that would be easy to do, but I it is going to take a little time. However I am happy. I am so incredibly happy.

I told you mom would kick cancer’s ass.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Unemployment

Summer — Fri, 28 Oct 2011 15:38:24 +0000

Well, when it rains it pours, or so the expression goes.

I wake up every morning not knowing what my purpose for the day is. I have a million things to do, but no idea where to start. Such small simple tasks, eating breakfast, unpacking boxes, washing my face, now seem like monumental achievements.

Three days ago I was another victim of the economy. I was laid off.

Can you believe that I have never been without a job? I started working when I was 15 and have always bounced directly from one job to another. This is the first time in 16 year that I have not had a job to report to. I am not sure if that is sad or impressive.

So here I am, sitting in completely uncharted waters. I decided to take this opportunity–and I do look at it as an opportunity–to evaluate what I really want. I’m even going so far as to make a pros and cons list for each of my options. I am incredibly lucky to be able to tout 8 years of marketing experience on a resume and my wonderful connections and friends have been sending me leads left and right. However, I am doing my best to put them all aside. Not that I am not greatly appreciative, I am, truly I am, and please keep them coming. It’s just that I want ONE WEEK, or maybe two, to just be. To not think about work. To only focus on my family and myself.

Next week my mother goes in for surgery. I have the great fortune of being able to be there and help her with the recovery process. This means the world to me. My mother has been there for me through so much and to have the opportunity to give back to her, despite the horrible situation surrounding it, means a great deal to me.

So, unemployment…blessing or a curse? Right now it feels a little like both. But I’m going to focus on it being a blessing.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Change of Address

Summer — Tue, 25 Oct 2011 04:41:58 +0000

My hair is in his drain.

There are boxes in the office.

Our dirty clothes are in the same hamper.

He’s finally getting a DVR.

There is healthy food in the fridge; not just condiments and beer.

My decorations are blending with his decorations (plants count as decoration, right?).

He now has a kitchen table. His friends are about to be blown away.

I have a key. He no longer has to buzz me through the front door.

The non-rule breaker helped me sneak in my cat to his “no pets allowed” residence.

He cooks for me.

He lets me study.

He kisses me good morning and good night.

He is possibly the greatest roommate ever.

Even though I am going through massive amounts of stress and challenges in my life right now, it feels amazing to know I have one piece of stability in my life.

My boyfriend, my Cute.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

TMI Friday: The “C” Word

Summer — Fri, 21 Oct 2011 17:15:49 +0000

I’ve been slightly absent lately. From this blog, my life, my friends. Everything. The reason being that on Wednesday, October 12th, 2011, I found out that my mother has breast cancer. Since then my time and attention has been devoted to my family. I created a family blog, which if you are a family member and not aware of it, please email me and I’ll send the link.

Here I am sharing my first written attempt at coming to terms with cancer. In it you’ll see I am angry. Very angry, with a side of bitter. I’m less angry now. Now I am just grateful for the medical team we have in place for my mother and the amount of support that has rallied around my family. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

10/13/11

I’m not sure if the first day or the second is the hardest. This is in part because that is all I’ve survived so far. Will the initial shock, the constant wondering of just how bad it is going to be end up worse than the actual treatment? One day at a time. Just take it one day at a time. That’s the advise I keep hearing. I can’t take it more than one day at a time and therein lies the problem. I want to know what is happening inside my mother’s body. Cancer. What is this cancer thing you speak of? Why does she have it? Please get rid of it. Take it away. Far, far away to a place where I never have to see or hear of it again.

It has been just over 24 hours. Everything is somehow different. My room, the way I breath, my ability to think clearly. Everything. It is breast cancer awareness month ironically enough. What a strange thing to have. Who in this world is unaware of cancer? It is everywhere. We are all afraid of it. Everything causes it, from the sun, to cell phones, to fast food. We are all well aware and yet we do nothing. Why not come up with a month where all other research stops except research to find out a.) how to prevent it, and b.) a cure. How about that idea? No more wearing pink, no more 5K fund raisers, no more ribbons. Let’s just pool all our resources. Take every specialist, doctor, scientist, pathologist, futurist, and brainiac we can find and lock them in a room together. Maybe Google will loan us their chef for good measure to keep them constantly fed and working.

Cancer awareness? I thought I was aware. Turns out I was only aware of what the disease is – not what it does to an entire families well being. I was unaware that a mammogram and an ultrasound could lead to a doctors diagnosis of cancer which would forever change life as I have known it. Is this what we are all supposed to be aware of? That there is a silent killer that destroys lives and peace of mind? Why? So we can live in even more fear? There is nothing we can do about it! Right now I feel the more helpless than I have ever felt in my entire life! My mother is sick. Something toxic is inside her body trying to slowly kill her and there is nothing I can do to fix her. Thank you, breast cancer awareness month, I am now well aware of that.

But you know what? Don’t think for a second that I won’t try. My mother is a fighter and there is absolutely no way she will leave this earth without seeing me married off. Can you believe she actually picked out my wedding date? True story. I’m not even engaged and an hour after dropping the bomb on me that she has cancer, she informs me that I should get married on 12.12.12. She figures by that time she will have beaten cancer, have grown her hair back, and will be well enough to travel to whatever destination wedding we decide on. Plus she likes the date. It’s clever.

That’s my mom for you. If there is a question in her mind as to whether or not she will kick cancer’s ass, she will never, ever, let on to it. It is just an inconvenience of major proportion. She has plans and stuff to do. This whole cancer business is just plain in her damn way.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Love in the 80′s

Summer — Mon, 03 Oct 2011 12:46:37 +0000

It’s only natural that people want to know, how did I meet Cute?

It’s a classic story really.

Boy meets girl. Boy gets girl’s number. Boy asks girl out. Girl accepts after a thorough Facebook investigation. Sparks fly and hearts are all a flutter.

Great story right?

Boooring.

The truth is that I went out, in public, dressed in full blown costume to a friends 80’s Prom themed birthday party.

Did I mention it was at a bar?

Fortunately my friends are incredibly fun and 90% of the party was also promed to the max.

I proceeded to drink, as one is prone to do when dressed ridiculously at a party, and was having a great time. I certainly didn’t think in my wildest dreams that I would meet somebody. I was loud, and giggly, and playing the role of a 80’s diva. Then, when I least expected it, my friend Chris walked up with a beautiful tall man.

“Summer, this is Jaron. Jaron, this is Summer.”

And then Chris walked away.

I was taken a little aback to be honest. Here I was with CLAW BANGS! God awful CLAW BANGS and blue eyeshadow! And now here was this tall, handsome drink of water standing in front of me that I was supposed to converse with. Who, by the way, was not in costume what-so-ever.

I could have killed my friend just then.

But instead I did what I do best. I laughed, I smiled, and I rolled with the punches.

We chatted for quite a while and as my sister Staci was dragging me out of the bar because it was closing time, he asked for my number – which, of course, I gave him.

He immediately text me saying, “This is the tall, dark, and handsome man you met tonight, Jaron. ”

He waited the appropriate two days to call me, and yes, the part about checking him out on Facebook before accepting was true. He seemed legit, outside of a leftover picture from China which still had what I assumed was his ex-girlfriend so I accepted his date invite. We hit it off immediately and have been inseparable ever since.

Whoda thunk…finding love at an 80’s party?

Blogfully yours,

Summer

*To see more fabulously 80′s pictures, visit my Flickr page.

My Grand Canyon Adventure: The Ascent

Summer — Tue, 06 Sep 2011 00:56:26 +0000

Yay! It’s the final installment of My Grand Canyon Adventure! If you are just stumbling over here, I broke the trip down into three blog posts: The Descent, The Bottom, and now, The Ascent.

Below are entries from my travel journal and pictures from the trip.

Day 5

- Woke at 5am. Packed up camp and hit the trail by 6 or 6:30.
- Today = 4.7 miles, 1320 vertical feet. Lord help me.
- This is going to sound crazy, but I am so relieved to hike uphill. 14 miles downhill was harder on me than I expected.
- I ended up taking Chris’s recommendation and duct taping my pinkie toe (with red duct tape ) to cover/protect my blister. It worked out great.

- I hit my stride early on and never faltered. Carb loading and lots of rest while at Phantom Ranch definitely paid off.

- “I love Devils Corkscrew.” This is what I sang, or rather chanted to myself the entire way up. It wasn’t a lie either. I hiked steadily by myself and power housed my butt all the way to the top. Felt damn good about it!

- Chris and Breanna double power-housed up so that they could drop their packs and come half way back to get Shelly and Christine’s packs. I was not that hardcore.

- When we finally got to Indian Gardens campsite I led some of the group through stretches (as well as a random stranger). It felt amazing.
- When we found our camp we set out our sleeping pads and took a much deserved group nap. I never wanted to move again.

- There are so many squirrels and lizards that it is no longer exciting to see them. Squirrels are pests. We have to hang our packs at each site and lock up our food or they’ll get into them. One actually did chew through Shelly’s pack when we went to the waterfall.
- There is a tradition of going out to Plateau Point to have dinner. Was tired and didn’t entirely feel like going but sooo glad I did.

- Plateau Point is magical. I could see the entire path that we had hiked and where we still need to hike to, all from one vantage point. The view is better than anything from the top. Completely breathtaking.

- We brought our camp-stoves with us and ate dinner on a ledge. Best dinner ever.

- It was hard to get alone time, but I was able to steal a few minutes away from the group to just meditate and take it all in. I cried. I couldn’t help it. Less than a year ago I was on crutches – now I am in the Grand Canyon. I am so proud of me. So few have seen what I am seeing.

- Last night to sleep on the ground.

Day 6

- Up before the sun. Packed in the dark using headlamps. Got very little sleep. Again. Note to self: bring earplugs!

- Today = three 1.5mile hikes. All uphill. All ridiculously difficult. They divide it into three hikes to keep you from the feeling of holly-shitness you get when you look straight up at what is left to hike.

- At the first resthouse I felt good. Confidant.

- At the second resthouse I felt deliriously good. Only 1.5 miles left to go!

- Saw a ram. Like a real life, curly horned, hood of a Dodge Ram ram! Holy shit!

- The last 1.5 miles Bre and I kept encouraging each other and saying things like “It can’t be too much further now.”

- It was.

- The ring around the top of the GC is called the bathtub rim. A bathtub has never been so damn difficult to climb out of.

- Forgot to tape my ankle…on the hardest day.
- Energy goo, shot blocks and powerbars helped save me from the never ending stair stepper which the last mile and a half is made up of.
- Tourist kept asking if we backpacked all the way. We proudly told them yes, rim to rim, but you should meet our group leader, he is 80 years old!

- Found out later that some of the same tourists stopped Roger and took a picture with him saying that he is their inspiration. Truth is, he is all of our inspiration.
- When we got to the top I went straight to the visitors center and bought me a clean t-shirt and hat. Went to the restroom and changed/”washed up” because I knew just how bad I must smell.

- Posed for pictures as a group.
- Turned on my phone and let my family know I was alive. My mother told me she was proud of me which, of course, made me cry.
- Ate breakfast with the group. Best breakfast in the world! I could have licked my plate clean.

- Long drive (4 hours?) back to the North Rim to get our cars followed by another long drive to a hotel where I was finally able to shower. It felt like heaven.

- Got to talk to my cute Jaron. It felt like home.

Well folks, that’s pretty much the end. I have never felt so accomplished or proud of myself. The Grand Canyon is more amazing than I could ever possibly put into words. I suppose that’s why I choose to post my journal entries. There is no way a short narrative blog post could do it justice. The beauty is everywhere you turn. As I would hike, I would constantly stop to look around and remind myself where I was. Through any pain, discomfort, lack of sleep, or blisters I may have gotten, I never once wished I had not come.

Less than ONE PERCENT of people who go to the Grand Canyon actually hike down to the bottom. I feel so honored to be in that group. I am also incredibly grateful to Roger, our group leader, for inviting me to come, organizing the entire adventure, and keeping us all safe. I am indebted to him forever for sharing this experience with me.

There are tons of pictures in all three of my Grand Canyon posts, but if you’d like to see more, check out my Flickr account.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Introducing “Cute” to the Internet

Summer — Wed, 24 Aug 2011 15:54:09 +0000

Over the 4th of July, I brought the man I have been seeing to my parents house for a BBQ.

This man you will be hearing more about in future posts. That is, unless blogging is a jinx, in which case forget I ever mentioned him.

He has been aptly nicknamed “Cute.” Not just because he is, in fact, very cute. That would be to obvious. His name actually yields from the graces of my co worker, Adam. Adam decided to name him that after going on a work trip with me. He kept hearing me gush on and on about the man I was seeing, always prefacing his name with “cute”.

As in, “Cute Jaron came over the other night and made me dinner” or “I’m so excited, Cute Jaron is taking me to see U2!”

Gag, right?

It was only a matter of time before said coworker ditched “Jaron” and just started asking me how “Cute” was doing or when I had plans to see “Cute” next.

So, Cute it is.

While at my parents house, my two giggly, barely-teen nieces decided that Cute and I were adorable and that being adorable warranted constant harassment. They threw snaps at us, teased me about having a boyfriend, and asked us if they heard wedding bells in our future.

Actually, that last one was my mother’s doing. Little does she know, I’m only using him for sex.

At one point in the night, as we were all sitting down to watch my brother-in-law light fireworks, the giggle sisters confiscated a camera and went to town snapping pictures of us.

They were greatly amused by their handiwork. But none quite so much as this.

To be honest, I like it too.

It’s…cute.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

* To see more pictures, including the Giggle Sisters, Cute, fireworks, and me holding a baby, go to my Flickr account.