Reflections of 2011

Now that it's April, I decided I should try to catch up on what happened last year. I know, I'm pretty bad.

January
The girls turned 13 and 17. I already posted about this, so um, yeah. . . they turned 13 and 17. Gene and I celebrated our 33rd anniversary. And, I already posted about this, too, so. . . moving on to February.
February
Gene turned 54. One more year until he's considered a senior at some businesses. Senior Citizen's discount here we come!
We went to see Nick Vujicic (pronounced vooy-cheech) at The Rock Church. He was born with no arms or legs, and he has an amazing testimony. You can learn more about Nick here: http://www.lifewithoutlimbs.org/around-the-world/bullying-stop-the-epidemic/
March
Ryan went back to Japan to visit Ai. The day he arrived there was a massive earthquake and tsunami in Japan. Thankfully he was far away from the disaster. It was so devastating to watch the destruction.
April
Nothing eventful happened this month. I continued to try to sell a home to a couple of different clients. Held a couple of open houses. By the way, open houses are a lot of work!
May
Got an MRI done on my neck and back. I'm so tired of this pain! The MRI revealed several small to medium issues, which apparently all add up to one big issue, but there's not much that can be done about it. It's very disheartening.
June
Got a new stainless steel refrigerator, oven, and microwave! Gene showed off his handyman skills by running a gas line for our oven, so now I have a gas stove/oven! He also mounted our microwave. Sometimes he really impresses me!
Leah left for the summer to visit her birth mother in Hawaii. It was hard to let her go, because I felt like it was the beginning of her leaving us one day, which turns out to be right. More about that later.
July
Got a bone scan and a mammogram (fun). Still no real answers. Krista went to camp for a week, and Gene and I went to visit my mom in Albuquerque. It was so nice to see her, but the visit was too short. I think she really enjoyed having us there.
August
Ashley, Eric, and the grandkids came out for a visit! We had a wonderful time. We all went to Disneyland. It was our first time seeing Alex. What a little character he is. And Marah is so smart and funny. And our beautiful Jenna is such a sweet, talented girl. They are all growing up so fast! I sure wish we could see them more often.


Leah came home from Hawaii right after Ashley left. It was so good to see her! Apparently she met "someone special" out there. She started talking about going back there to live when she turns 18. This was hard to hear, but I wasn't surprised.
I decided to home school Krista this year. School started this month, which was hard with Ashley here. As it turns out, homeschooling was a HORRIBLE idea. I thought it would be easier with Krista than it was for Leah, but Krista was just as hard, if not harder. She just kept making excuses and begging to get out of an assignment. I could only handle it for one semester. Lesson learned.
My best friend from 10th grade, Karen (Lepker) Bauer called up one day and said she was in town and wanted to know if I could meet her for dinner. Why, yes I could! It was so great to catch up with her. Now if she would only get on Facebook!


September
I took another course in SDSU's Educational Technology certificate program. This is the last of the required courses. After this I only have 2 elective courses to take. I'll be so glad when this is finished!
Ryan was busy planning his wedding. It was so interesting to watch. You don't often see the groom plan the wedding. But he did it all! He's quite the proscratinator, and I don't think he realized that you have to book wedding venues early, so he had a difficult time finding a place. But he eventually settled on a beautiful place in Julian. We were all so excited to meet Ai's family!
Carla's been gone for 8 years now. The pain is still intense.
October
Ryan and Ai got married!

What a special day it was. So many of Ai's family members came out from Japan, and we had a wonderful visit with them. They were so sweet, and they brought yummy gifts! And Ashley was able to come back out for the wedding. So all of my kids were together for the first time in a LONG time. We are blessed.
The sad part came when Ryan and Ai went back to Japan. They have to live there for AT LEAST two years. A lot can happen in two years, so I'm worried they will end up staying there. That's so far away!

November
This month turned out to be rough. First, I turned 52. It's hard to even type that. I'm still in denial. But the really rough part was that Leah left to go stay with her birth mother's sister in the bay area before eventually moving to Hawaii. It was especially difficult because it was right before Thanksgiving, and she left because she was angry (mostly with me, though she and Gene argued a lot). It was very emotional. Thanksgiving is always emotional for me, because it was Carla's favorite holiday, and my dad's birthday is around that time, so I think about them a lot around Thanksgiving. Leah leaving didn't help.
I did have my first real estate transaction this month. I sold my first listing. It was my neighbor's mother's house. She had unfortunately passed away and they needed to sell her house, so they asked me to help. It sold in 10 days!
Anna came out to visit, and we finally got to meet Luis. We had a great time at James' and Sabrina's.


December
Christmas was definitely different this year. With only one kid at home, it just seemed odd to go all out with decorating, so we bought a little tree and used just a few of our ornaments. It certainly took less time to decorate (and undecorate), but it didn't feel much like Christmas. We went to Hollywood for Christmas. We saw "Wicked" and we went to Universal Studios. We video chatted with all of the other kids on Christmas Eve, which was really nice.



It's hard to believe that 2011 is over and that we are well into 2012 already!

Remembering Danny Vega

It certainly wasn't a phone call I was expecting, but, in a strange way, it wasn't a surprise, either. Poor Stacey. She knew she should call me to tell me the news, but I could tell it was hard for her to actually say the words. Danny Vega died in his sleep the weekend after Thanksgiving. Apparently, he had been living with significant blockage in a main artery to his heart for quite some time (I think that was it--frankly, the phone call was a blur). So sad.

Danny Joe Vega was not your average Joe. He was "different." Full of joy, really. Full of potential. It's so sad that he made some critical mistakes several years ago. Mistakes that changed the lives of his entire family. Mistakes that he could never make up for. But in the last few years of his life, I think he was really trying to make up for them. And, in a lot of ways, I think he was successful.

I'm so thankful that his kids were able to find forgiveness, and to build a relationship with him. James worked especially hard at it. He never gave up on Danny. But Stacey. . . it was hard for her. She was bitter. Forgiveness didn't come easy to her. But, it did come, finally. And I'm so glad for her.

Danny's memorial service was just like Danny--unique. . . funny. Lots of stories about his creative use of duct tape and rope, and his unique style of discipline. Gene and I have many fond memories of spending time with Carla and Danny in the early years. Lots of laughter, lots of joy raising our kids together. It's so nice to see our kids so close to Carla's kids still. I never had that with any of my cousins, and it's special to watch.

Putting together the slideshow for the service brought those memories flooding back, and I found myself sitting here at my computer with tears streaming down my face as I looked at all the photos of Danny and Carla. They were so happy back then. It's so hard to believe they're both gone.

But they had some amazing kids. Strong, beautiful kids. And they would have been so proud of those kids at the service. Such strength and grace! I'm so blessed to call them my nieces and nephews.

Here's the slideshow that was played at the service. You'll be missed, Danny!

Tomorrow

I've known it was coming for weeks. It's been right on my heels, trying to sneak up on me without warning, but I've felt it. It has come every year for the last five years, and it will come this year, too.

Tomorrow.

It's still beyond my comprehension that Carla is no longer in "this world" with me; that I can't call her to share some silly joke or ask her for advice when I'm struggling with a problem. My mind can't fully take it in that her spirit has moved on--my sister and best friend. It's so unfair--and the pain in my heart is still so - well, painful.

I wonder if it will always be like this--coloring my world a gloomy grey when it should be filled with the vibrant blue of the California sky and the vivid oranges, yellows, and reds of the new fall season (yes, even in San Diego, you can see these colors . . . if you look hard enough).

Tomorrow.

I want to wish away this dreaded anniversary; ignore it, and pretend it's just an ordinary day like any other. But tomorrow will surely come, and I will surely wake up with the familiar ache in my chest. And I'll go through my "Carla box" of memories, and I'll cry--again. I'll mentally list all the joyous events she's missed, like James' and Sabrina's wedding, and the events that are still to come, like Anna's upcoming wedding, and one day Scott's, Stacey's, and eventually, Kelby's. The many grandchildren that she so desperately wanted, but that she'll never know. (Thankfully, she did get to see Ashlyn and Ben.)

Tomorrow.

The recent passing of Patrick Swayze to the same, evil pancreatic cancer that took her life has made this year especially difficult. All the painful memories of her last months came flooding back when I heard the news of his death, and I found myself drawn to any media reports about his life, and I sat in solitude, unable to change the channel, tears pouring down my face unchecked.

But the tears are cleansing somehow. In some strange way, they create a momentum that carries me forward. She wouldn't want me to wallow in sadness. I know that. But, even after six years, the hole she left is still there, gaping and raw, and I'm still left with a heavy emptiness that weighs me down and tries to crush my spirit. And sometimes--all too often, really--it succeeds.

Oh, how I miss her!

This morning, as I ate breakfast, contemplating the coming day, God reminded me of a verse that I've often quoted to comfort others who are grieving or going through a difficult time: "Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning."
Psalm 30:5

I'm praying that my joy will be renewed soon.

Maybe tomorrow.

Five Years

It seems like just months ago—and yet, it seems like an eternity. Five years. My mind can’t fully take it in. I woke up this morning (did I even sleep?) with the same crushing feeling that I felt every morning during the painful weeks and months after “the diagnosis.”

With Carla on my mind, I got up and took out my “Carla Memory Box.” A small, metal, off-white box with her photo on the front. It holds my special mementos and photos of her. This has become my annual ritual since her death. As I open the box, and pause over each photo and card, memories come flooding back. Tears pour down my face. My head hurts, my heart aches. It’s somehow overwhelming, and comforting at the same time.

Those memories sustain me when the pain of missing her becomes almost unbearable. Cherished memories of my sister and best friend growing up. What a wonderful childhood we had! We talked often about how thankful we were for our family—how lucky we were to have such strong, wise, caring parents and funny, smart, and talented siblings.





Fond memories of raising our families together. Helping each other through marital problems. Taking for granted that we were blessed beyond measure. Never thinking for a moment that it could all end at any time.

I’m so thankful for all the memories I have of her. And I’m thankful for her legacy—her beautiful kids. But her legacy goes beyond her own kids. Her life has had an effect on so many other kids through her work in the Children’s Ministry at the Rock Church.

Oh, how I wish I could go back and work with her in Pebbles Pathway! But God had other plans—plans that would challenge me to the very core of my being. Taking over as the Director changed my life forever. I never imagined how her death would bring me so much heartache and so much joy at the same time. Some of my most precious memories make up those two incredible and challenging years. Amazing growth—personally, spiritually, and professionally. Amazing friendships forged. Amazing memories stored up.

On the first anniversary of her death, we had “Children’s Ministry Sunday” at church. We played this slideshow in her honor.



When I think of all the kids and ministry workers who will continue her legacy at the various churches around the county and even the country, I am overcome with a melancholy sense of hope. Who knows how that will play out in the years to come—how many future generations will be impacted by her work?

What an amazing person she was. What a wonderful friend.

Love to all her beautiful kids today. And to my siblings. And to my mom. And to all the friends who loved her and miss her.

Only in My Dreams

The hallway is long and dark. My footsteps echo as I walk to the end and turn right. For some reason that somehow makes sense, though I can’t remember why, there are two guards outside her door. The tall one nods almost imperceptibly at me as I turn the corner. I’m just going to walk by today, too exhausted to face the pain. She’s been in a coma for several days. She’s in her last hours now. The end is near; I feel it in my heart, and the ache is unbearable.


But as I am passing her room, I hear my name.


“Deb!”


Though the voice is weak and raspy, I know instantly that it’s hers, and I am at her bedside in a heartbeat. She is sitting straight up—her thin, frail arms outstretched. Eyes that were once grey-blue are now a light, pale blue, but unseeing and ethereal. She knows I’m there by her side, and she smiles. For a fleeting moment, hope rises up within me. Could this be the miracle we have all been desperately praying for?


“I knew you’d come to say goodbye.”


My heart sinks with the realization that the miracle wasn’t going to come.

“I can’t,” I say, desperately trying to hold back the tears so she won’t know.

“It’s almost time. I don't want to leave without saying goodbye.”

Panic rises up inside me. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“We’ll be together again soon. But Dad is waiting for me now.”

Her voice is getting weaker now. I can barely make out what she’s saying. I know she’s leaving. It’s very, very close now.


An overwhelming sadness washes over me. . .

The crushing feeling stays with me as I wake up. She’s really gone.

And I miss her terribly.

A Sad Day

Even though I don't see her very often, it's nice to know she's close, and that I could call her up to have lunch anytime. But she's moving. And not just to North County or something, she's moving to Colorado! Stacey has always held a special place in my heart. She's Carla's middle daughter, and, from the time she was a baby, people thought she looked more like my daughter than Carla's (not so much anymore). And I love her very much.

But she's all grown up, and a college graduate now, and she's ready to spread her wings. I'm very happy for her, and I know she's going to do great things. But I'm gonna miss her.

We had lunch yesterday, and we exchanged a few things that we each had of Carla's that we thought the other would like to have. It was hard to say goodbye. Somehow, it makes Carla's absence even more real to know that Stacey won't be in San Diego anymore either. I know it's irrational, but that's how I feel.

Yep, I'm gonna miss that girl.

It's That Time of the Year

Thanksgiving has never been all that much fun to me. I've never been one to enjoy cooking a big meal, making a big mess, and then having to clean it all up. It's just not worth it to me.

But, oh, how Carla loved Thanksgiving! She was in her element on this special day. I could never convince her to just have turkey sandwiches and buy pies and snack on Chex mix so that we could enjoy the day without having a big, huge mess to clean up. No, she would have none of that! She insisted on the traditional spread of turkey, homemade stuffing, broccoli casserole, pecan pie, and the list goes on and on.

She LOVED having a house full of people--the more the merrier in her mind. She reveled in the chaos, I think. Again, not my cup of tea. So we always went to Carla's for Thanksgiving, and I was ALWAYS thankful that we had gone.

I miss Carla so much on Thanksgiving. But I am thankful for the years we spent together on Thanksgiving. And it's nice to think about her with such warm memories.

And then there's Dad's birthday on November 25th. Sometimes Dad's birthday would fall on Thanksgiving. He also loved Thanksgiving. Mom always cooked a big meal on Thanksgiving, too.

And then there's Carla's birthday on December 1st.

And then there's Christmas. Dad always LOVED Christmas. This was his favorite time of year. He spent so much time putting up lights and making yard ornaments like large wooden candy canes, which now decorate my own yard. Growing up, our house was always decked out for Christmas with cheezy decorations.

I have some of those cheezy decorations now, and they are treasures to me. I didn't realize how much they actually meant to me until today when Gene broke the red plastic bells that had hung in our window as far back as I can remember. I know he felt bad. I know it was an accident. And they are only things. But my heart sank when he showed me the shattered plastic pieces. I actually had to fight back the tears. Silly, I know . . . but still, it was hard to accept that they were broken.

As much as Dad loved Christmas, it is almost fitting that he died on Christmas day. But it forever altered my feelings about Christmas. I remember the Christmas songs playing in the hospital as my sisters and brother, and I were eating lunch in the cafeteria or sleeping in the lobby. I remember thinking that the music seemed out of place. Didn't the music picker realize that the greatest man in the world was dying? Why was he (or she) playing those Christmas songs at this sad time? It was several years before I could listen to Christmas music after he died.

Yesterday, Gene and I were at Target, and we were looking for stocking stuffers in the dollar section at the front of the store. There was a bin of Jiffy Pop at the bottom. A wave of emotion took me by surprise at the sight of it. I sucked in a breath and broke out crying right there in the front of the Target store! Gene didn't know what the heck was wrong. I couldn't even speak. I wanted to tell him that "Dad hated Jiffy Pop!" but the words wouldn't come.

As the years have passed, I've been able to come to terms with Dad's and Carla's deaths. I know I'll see them again in heaven one day.

In the meantime, I'll just hold their memories close--especially at this time of year. And I'll be thankful for the people I love who are still here, like my mom, my brothers and sister, and my kids and granddaughters, and son-in-law, and wonderful friends. And, my husband, who has put up with my tears and moods, and who just lets me cry as he holds me until the moment passes.


I am blessed.

Remembering Carla

Amazingly, it was four years ago today that my sister and best friend died of cancer. Not a day goes by that I don't think about her. So many times I want to pick up the phone and call her to ask her opinion or advice, or maybe just to share something funny. But she's gone, leaving a huge hole in my heart and in my life. I still need her. I don't want her to be gone. I miss her.

I often dream about her, but there's always that gut-wrenching "knowledge" that the visit is temporary, that something is wrong. Thinking about her last night, I truly hoped that I would dream about her and not have that "feeling." I wanted to just enjoy spending time with her without worrying about her or thinking that she couldn't stay. But the dream didn't come. So I woke up this morning with her on my mind and thought I'd just write a little about my memories.

Carla was the oldest girl, and she took that role seriously. She was the one who learned to cook and sew. Her side of the room was always clean. She was a nerd in every sense of the word, and she knew it. She was skinny and awkward. I remember when she tried out for cheerleading. It was so hilarious to watch her try to do a cheer. I still remember how it went:

O - K
Hello, Judges!

We'd like to say, "hello"
to you in a special way!

We'll start it all out with a welcoming
cheer,

Just to let you all know that we're glad
you're here!

H - E - double L - O

We say, "HELLO!"

Oh my gosh, she was pathetic! Needless to say, she didn't make the squad. I don't think she actually expected to, and I was surprised she even tried--it didn't fit her conservative personality. I held that incident over her head for years.

Even though I was younger by almost two years, I was much stronger than she was. (I'm still freakishly strong, as my friend, Amy, would say.) I could carry her piggy-back, but if I jumped on her back, her legs would crumple beneath her and we would both fall to the ground, laughing. I could beat her up. I never did, but we both knew that I could. I also held that over her.

When she was about 17, she started to blossom. She learned how to fix her hair, got her teeth fixed, and got contacts. Her whole attitude changed. She became confident in herself and started dating (lots of guys were now interested).

She got married two days before her 18th birthday. She and Danny had 5 amazing kids, and her family and mine were close as our kids grew up together. She was much stronger than even I knew, handling infidelity with such grace and strength. After her divorce, she went to school and got a college degree, all the time working and raising five kids!

After a few years on her own, she married Mike Clements, who had a young son, which gave her 6 kids. Then they had another baby, making a grand total of 7 kids. Kelby was only 4 when Carla died. But Carla had prepared her family well. Her older kids were responsible enough to help Mike with Kelby, which gave Carla a lot of peace. Stacey, especially, has been an amazing caregiver to her little sister. I am so proud of her (and all of the kids).

All of us Jinks siblings have a dry sense of humor. When we get together, we crack ourselves up, but others seem to wonder what the heck we are laughing about. Carla and I shared a very similar sense of humor. Often, we would laugh so hard that we would be doubled over in pain. I think I miss the laughter the most.

It's comforting to remember how she was so full of genuine joy the last few years of her life. She deserved that, and it was a pleasure to watch her as she talked about her job as the Director of Children's Ministries at The Rock Church. And the pride with which she spoke about her children and grandchildren was clear. She loved her job, her kids, and her husband, and it showed. Mike and I have our differences, but I'll always be grateful to him for making her so happy at the end.

So, here we all are, four years later, still missing her. Still trying to deal with life's challenges without having her to lean on. Not easy.

At Carla's memorial service, we played a slideshow with photos of her. The audio played during the presentation was "What a Wonderful World." I can't listen to that song without getting choked up. I miss her. Did I say that already? Can't wait to see her again. Someday . . .

Take a look at this video. It's amazing.

Have a wonderful day!