Friday, July 1, 2016

Texas, Sheryl Sandburg & Home

I never really was a big “lean in” fan, I respected Sheryl Sandburg for all of her accomplishments, yet challenged her idea that you could have it all: business women; home for dinner every night; picture perfect family. I mean it’s kinda unrealistic in this 24x7 tech world; however, if she could do it - so could I. And, from that moment on, I have followed her linkedin. It’s a bit unnerving to think about now, since we both experienced profound loss so suddenly, unexpectedly, and way too young. Sometimes, I still think about if only we had known 4 years ago today, what now is too real to ever forget. Would we have still moved to Texas? Would we have changed our entire course and path? Would it have mattered? Then, I realize it – the wave – it’s been a few days or weeks but somehow the reality of grieving has washed back on shore. It always comes from identifying a new norm. The moments come and pass, and like our time in Texas – 4 years to the day, it’s about to change yet again, as we beginning our journey back to the northeast. Drumroll… We will be Rhode Islanders’ by August 1st.
Literally as I was preparing to accept a new role inside my company and end the Texas chapter, a quote from Sandberg’s commencement speech at Ucal’s popped up: “You are not born with a fixed amount of resilience. Like a muscle, you can build it up, draw on it when you need it. In that process you will figure out who you really are—and you just might become the very best version of yourself... It is the greatest irony of my life that losing my husband helped me find deeper gratitude,” concluding that finding gratitude and appreciation were essential to building resilience.

            I’m not sure that my muscle has fully formed, but I love the concept that resilience is a muscle built for and utilized in time of need. It kicks the “time heals all” metaphor’s ass– time does not heal anything - conditioning your resilience muscle, by literally surviving throughout all the moments, still having the ability to find the deeper gratitude in life, and understand the true joy of life in itself. It truly is the quest we all should be seeking, yet this particular journey only manifested after my husband died too. Why?
One thing that she’s right about: “complete irony.” I will never say Texas was a mistake for my family. I also can assure you that my life would have been very different had we not come to Texas. Yet, there is no way that I could have become the person I am today without our journey to Texas 4 years ago. There are so many moments these last four years to hone in on, yet there are no words to describe how I feel today. The first that come to mind: Lost, confused, scared, lonely, sad to say goodbye, thrilled to start a new chapter, accomplished, proud, guilty to feel proud, blessed to go home, and most of all - profound gratitude and appreciation for every single person that has crossed our lives these past 4 years in Texas and beyond.     
            In a time when nothing in the world seems to make sense to me anymore, the one thing that does make sense is that it’s not about the destination; it’s about the journey. I have no idea what lies ahead and probably for the first time in my life, I don’t feel anxious about that. Maybe it’s naivety to the change, or a new tidal wave will crash tomorrow. Yet, somehow I know she’s right – when I need it – resilience will surface because I have been training. Seriously, many thanks to all of my friends, colleagues, my “tribe of mentors” and family for holding the water bottle, giving me the energy pack, as I trained for this marathon.
At each step, new challenges have emerged, yet I’ve been smarter, quicker, and more adaptable to jump with the wave, rather than fight it and be swept out to sea. I’m still swept out to sea sometimes, it’s okay, I always find my way home. Texas will always have an extremely special place in my heart; we had our son here; we became a family here; we hosted our first Thanksgiving; most importantly, I am more capable today, and I’m doing better than just fine… but at the end of the day, I need to catch the wave home – and I feel incredibly blessed tonight to have worked so hard, opposing some doubters along the way to have the opportunity to jump on this crazy tidal wave back out to sea to start the next chapter in our journey. I only hope this time my eyes are open a bit to see the ride, rather than being blinded by the mundane crises that cloud our judgment and prevent us from feeling true compassion and joy. My irony also lies in the fact that I’m a more grateful person today than I was 4 years ago when we set out on this journey to the wild-wild west. As this chapter closes, I will rejoice in the blessings and try hard to remember the bitter tears for the right reasons. Empathy.
  

Sunday, October 11, 2015

On This Day:




Facebook, you strike again, we just love to feed into the idea that “everything is worthy of a living memory” and of course we now have apps to tell us exactly just that – Yes, Facebook – How could I forget that today is the 6th anniversary of my wedding date; my 2nd “first” experiencing it without Jim. And, guess what Facebook – I’m okay; we are all okay. Don’t worry though, it equally stings like the first one, yet I have learned to push the sting to the side (just a little bit) because that is what I want to do in this “new norm”. I know there will be a 3rd “first” next year, and so on. Also, I know that I have nothing to worry about because if I were to forget somehow, Facebook, without fail, your bot system will tell me exactly what I should remember, when… right?

This isn’t a ply on the app; quite frankly, I too have come to love some of the posts from “on this day”. And, I love literally watching the kids in my tribe grow throughout the years; I love to read the funny memories we have shared throughout our social-media living histories; however, it’s an interesting dichotomy on what is too much and what is just enough of: “On this Day”. I literally have no answers to this, just questions.

Since, I haven’t posted anything in so long to my blog, and I have started so many pieces this past year that I never finished the thought (or my thoughts changed before posting); I figured I would share:

What do I know “On this day” versus last year? It just seems fitting.

NUMBER 1 – I’m still me… It took a year of grief counseling, and several conversations that literally ended up with someone having to listen to me talking in circles (thanks to all those who endured them) to realize that at the bottom of all of this – No, I don’t have to become a new me; because all of my moments leading up today is what makes me - me… Deep down, at the core, I’m still that girl that came from the 603 (frog-pond and all), traveled for a longtime, and keeps rediscovering and recreating herself along the way.

Number 2 – I have so much love that I can do this; I love Jonah, even when my heart is torn apart; I love my tribe; And someday, hopefully, I will love someone else, differently, but as deep as my love is for Jim. (Note; not past-tense – because I will always love Jim).

Number 3 – I was really selfish last year; and will remain selfish, but, hopefully not as much this year… and probably a little next year. This will be my reality, until I’m able to stich my heart up and focus outwards more, I hope my tribe knows how much I appreciated the ability to be 100% selfish, BUT starts helping me be less selfish this year, by calling me and using me as their venting outlet because I want to be the listener not just the venter… (I’m seriously aiming for 75% this year and hopefully by this time next year 50/50 selfish ratio)...

Number 4 – Nothing matters without your family and tribe; nothing is worth risking losing them; and nothing is worth losing yourself. I think I have always known this but until I went through it, I didn’t really ever know the depth of what it meant to be raised: “Family is the only thing that matters…”

Number 5 – “That is yesterday’s News… What’s todays?” Again, I grew up with this philosophy along with “It’s no big deal” – still trying to figure out what is a “big deal” – DAD!

How did I get to these five things: All because of:

Number 6: I learned so much about ME these past 12 months: I know that I’m a survivor but not in survivor mode anymore; I metaphorically and literally graduated; I mourned; I cried; I laughed (luckily a lot); I experienced way TOO many horrible tragedies’ this past year; I brushed myself off a LOT!; I surrounded myself with my tribe, who literally picked me up, carried me, and told me the hard truth when needed; I became a strong, candid public speaker and an amazing young leader at work (didn’t see that one coming so soon); I learned so much about me: as a mom, as a parent, as a daughter; as a sister, as a friend, as a boss, as an employee, as EVERY role a person can  possible be – and most importantly, I learned that time is so precious and valuable; therefore, we all should say what we mean and do what we say.

So Facebook – thank you for your reminders: “On this Day” – Secretly, I love seeing them most days, otherwise I would have turned the stupid feed off a long time ago – but today; “On this day” almost exactly the same thing that I was thinking 6 years ago “on this day” when “I became someone’s wife and a grown-up (kinda)”:– I’m looking outward and onward to love, life and happiness and will be for the rest of my life because each day, is another day, for us all to be present and here – not looking back, not looking ahead – and most importantly; I’m still me, not a new me – not an old me; just me… And, I’m really excited and happy to be me; because me is pretty awesome, even right now, “on this day”.

Monday, February 2, 2015

Here is my story about randomness: I’m okay, starts, stops & James Troilo


In a few days, February 19, 2015 to be exact, Jim will have been gone for exactly 6 months.  The last 6 months, I have been breathing, surviving, living, crying, laughing (luckily), and figuring out this “new Sam”, this “new reality”.  See, prior to meeting Jim, I was always searching for myself.  Searching for what made me not “ordinary”.   Jim and I have always described us as opposites, and this whole story is just one example of how or why we were from the opposite sides of the spectrum, yet so close to the middle of each-other’s spectrum – the brilliance of the dichotomy.  Hopefully, we had enough time for the result to be a perfectly balanced, blendedness of extremes, manifested into the shaping of Jonah’s creative brain; but also, enough time to give me peace and understanding, especially when peace and understanding are the farthest thing from my reach.  
If you have taken the time to read this, then it probably goes without saying that Jim’s passion for the arts, laidback attitude, he’s mensch- like-brilliance is what made him so unique, intriguing, and extraordinary.  So, in my mind, I have to go back to the beginning to give me more insight on where I stood the winter/spring of 2008 (the year Jim and I met) to figure out how to carve out this new me (some would say, my tireless need to research – or google it).  In any case, I have been thinking back a lot to the day Jim and I met - in my apartment in Malvern, PA, which never should have been – except for a very peculiar series of events, in both of our lives.  Neither of us should have been in Malvern, PA at the time; we both had bigger and better destinations and adventures waiting in our minds, which we thought we would be already wondering through by 2008.  However, luck of the draw some may say, others fate, Jim just appeared at my front door one night, while my roommate was running an errand and before the party kicked-off; so there the two of us were making small talk – and as usual – Tucker was running VERY late.
Both of us had experienced many extremes the years before meeting (we always loved to play the who’s extreme was better game)… Yet this random moment in both of our lives was just so ordinary – yet extraordinary – and life altering.  Of course, post this night the rest of our journey became more of a rapid white-water rafting trip, down a wild, calm, enlightening, and frankly curvy sometimes, rocky river – because one thing we did have in common was an eye for adventure and “craziness” (quote Alyssa, with the “we are both crazy”); let’s just say we easily could relax and float down a peaceful river, then jump from 60 foot cliffs minutes later – but not without each other near (that can be authenticated by the Grund girls J).
Why go back to the beginning?  I have been asking myself the same questions for weeks. I think I may have finally realized, I have to go back to step forward – First, it has been happening for weeks, without me even realizing it.  There are so many stories of foreshadowing that have occurred this past winter to make me travel through my past – but the loss of two dear friends, a third in dire trouble, really tops any story of why to step back a moment and remember my childhood for all that it was worth – and believe me, I’m one of the very luckiest – because my childhood is worth every single memory.  I am blessed by that – with amazing parents, great sisters, loving friends, and Jackson – the person, who witnessed the start and will always have the ability to reminisce for a lifetime with me about the summer of 2008, backpacks, 90 hip-hop music, road-trips through the northeast... oh and I guess turning 25 and big, big balls/balloons (Didn’t you make jim get you one before you would leave?(NO PICS AND NO STORIES).
Anyways, I have tried to recreate my “self-discovery” that happened in 2008 to try to find a way to pass this storm and move forward.  I have done this by trying to remember the key lessons learned or OBSERVED by Jim – “stop fitting in, who cares, just move with the music” – “I love you so much because you care, and I think you are so silly because you care so much” – “What do you mean you are not creative; everyone is creative – you just never stop to let yourself be in the moment” – “Here listen to this record, draw what you hear, see what you see, stop thinking about the end story and what it’s supposed to look like, start thinking about what you want it to look like now” – “I could lie out here for hours, in the sunshine & woods, and talk about theology, philosophy, the world around us, the world far from us (he knew I loved this, so this may have just been sweet talking me)” – “I love your passion to save the world, but what about the world are you really trying to save?” (This question was mind-boggling for me – and I remember it clear as day – and I still haven’t reached a true verdict).  And, of course – three months in, “Marry me – who cares what the world will think – we will spend the rest of our lives together, so marry me, why wait another five years so it’s proper” – I could go on, but in a nut shell: Jim feed me records, shows, art, photography, laughter, simplicity, silly poetry, and books like The Alchemist, at a time when my whole life was open to forgetting about, being what I was supposed to be, and becoming who I was – key word “was”.  So, I’m going to share some of the key hippy- Alchemist discoveries, which Jim and I debated forever. Maybe one night, when bored – you can too – debate these hippy ideals (Jim would scream at this interpretation) and enjoy great laughter and self-discovery, as Jim and I did (I totally suggest a record and wine to accompany them):
But here you go, some of our all time favorites to challenge in 2008 Malvern to Philadelphia road-show – it feels like ages ago, yet in so many ways, I still can smell the smells and breath the air in the room, well maybe it’s because some were still discussed until the end of July 2014 (mostly walking on beaches – post-Philly):
The Alchemist:
-        Remember that wherever your heart is, there you will find your treasure. You've got to find the treasure, so that everything you have learned along the way can make sense.
-        Only the following items should be considered to be grave faults: not respecting another's rights: allowing oneself to be paralyzed by fear; feeling guilty; believing that one does not deserve the good or ill that happens in one's life; being a coward. We will love our enemies, but not make alliances with them. They were placed in our path in order to test our sword, and we should, out of respect for them, struggle against them. We will choose our enemies.
-        At every moment of our lives we all have one foot in a fairy tale and the other in the abyss.
-        All religions lead to the same God, and all deserve the same respect. Anyone who chooses a religion is also choosing a collective way for worshipping and sharing the mysteries. Nevertheless, that person is the only one responsible for his or her actions along the way and has no right to shift responsibility for any personal decisions on to that religion. (Mostly, we agreed on this one)
-        If you can concentrate always on the present, you'll be a happy man...Life will be a party for you, a grand festival, because life is the moment we're living right now.
-        Sometimes you get no second chance and that it's best to accept the gifts the world offers you.  (If only, I had understood this meaning a year ago).
-        It is not time that changes man, nor knowledge; the only thing that can change someone's mind is love.
-        Anyone who has lost something they thought was theirs forever finally come to realize that nothing really belongs to them.
-        Every search begins with beginner’s luck. And every search ends with the victor’s being severely tested. (Robert Fisher – my dad –would totally agree)

We both always agreed in empirical learning: "There is only one way to learn," the alchemist answered. "It's through action. Everything you need to know you have learned through your journey." My point of sharing this, is the fact that Jim never wanted me to become him – in fact, he loved me because we were so different; my extreme passion for the greater cause, my fanatic drive towards the future was what made Jim fall in love with me.  James wanted me to discover me – and wanted me to know that once I discovered me; he would love that me, more than anyone could possible love someone; and follow that me wherever it took us – because my journey was his journey.  Through James’ teachings or maybe his acceptance, regardless, what I became was finally just “me” – no more of what everyone around me wanted me to be – no more trying to be something that I wasn’t – just me… And, I loved that version of me for the longest moment – because without even knowing it, it was the most comfortable I have ever been, in my own skin.  I never reached Jims version of the true point of living in the moment, but I was able to stop and see the moment, especially through Jim’s lenses. 
This may be shocking to many of my deepest supporters, yet not surprising to my closest allies – because I have always given off the image that I don’t give a F what people think, but truthfully, prior to Jim, I did care; Jim broke the façade – And, for the first time I realized if Jim was there, I didn’t care – the closest to me didn’t care already, they never did… I just thought they cared – see my closest already knew that I was a survivor, a fighter, and already thought that I was above that game of caring or having the need to “find myself”.  Unfortunately, the day Jim died is the day that part of that person almost died too.  But, I’m waking up – slowly – realizing that right now I can only focus on me and Jonah, and the rest is just noise until I figure out this “new me”, then I can get back to what I love focusing on, my surroundings – focusing on those who love me.
However, today, when thinking about the self-imposed stress I’m feeling over planning for Passover it began to click – I can’t recreate my 2008 self-discovery to find my next self.  That water has already passed in that journey.  So, yes there is a good blog-post someday - about my metaphorical wondering in the wilderness (hopefully not for 40 years); how I grabbed all the little pieces of hope, memories, and thoughts built-up prior to the day Jim died, and carried on wondering & sleeping until I woke up with my scraps and survived until the next me was born – We can save this for Passover… or some other time when I’m out of the wilderness, who really knows…
Today, though, the only thing I can hope is that even with this blog – formatted in a way that has no linear story, just a jumble of miscellaneous thoughts –, which theoretically drives me insane (One-page essays will haunt me for life) - cements that Jim already has helped me discover some tricks to finding the next self-discovery.  Because, I’m not concerned about the reader right now: I’m not starting back at the beginning; I’m starting from where we left off; because, I’m still floating in a river that will ensure this “new Sam” stays true with the self-discovery from 2008.  Particularly, I have realized that Jim gave me the ability to finally understand that there is no path...   
And, mostly, all of our memories are jumbled – especially, when I think of our time right now, bits and pieces seem to form and dissipate quickly, yet I need to grab them, write them down and remember for me and Jonah, because the best lesson learned from James Troilo is that “writing is a form of personal freedom. It frees us from the mass identity we see in the making all around us. In the end, writers will write not to be outlaw heroes of some underculture but mainly to save themselves, to survive as individuals” (Don DeLillo).  Apply this to all forms of James’ life - the arts, innovational aspirations, and technology –  and you will have just described James Troilo’s core beliefs.  I would add that Jim believed, “One truth is the swing of the sentence, the beat and poise, but down deeper it's the integrity of the writer as he matches with the language… When you try to unravel something you've written, you belittle it in a way. It was created as a mystery” (Don DeLillo).  And, life needs to stay a mystery, in order to have a journey worth living.
Anyways, the truth is I always wanted to “find myself and not be ordinary”, while Jim fought hard to “find himself and become ordinary”. While, Jim’s greatest kept secret (or worst kept secret, depending on the listener) was his uneasiness with being extraordinary, unusual, and to the deepest level – an artist, brighter and smarter than his own mind was capable to believe.  This entire post, in honor of my husband, is a series of random thoughts – because right now, all I have is randomness, which drives me crazy that I can't make sense of all the chaos – yet, if I wait for the “right words”, I will fade back to the pre-2008 Sam.  

James Troilo – post 2008 Sam is still here, somewhere, and “writing is a form of personal freedom”, which I will no wait for it to make sense to the reader – in honor of you.

                  

Wednesday, October 29, 2014

Remembering - 5 Years of Marriage


This past weekend (a little late) would have been my and Jim’s 5 year wedding anniversary.  We had talked about it several times over the last four years because Jim always promised we would do something wild and crazy for Year 5.  We would add another check to our ever-forming & checking off bucket list…  So, I have been contemplating what to write that would do this moment of history justice.  I even reach out to my wedding party for their thoughts of the day –and soon I will provide you their takes, in their words.  


However, this past week, my house came down with a major cold – No, we do not have Ebola…

Yes, we live in DFW Texas…. And, yes, we are taking all the right steps for medical treatment…

And, no I really haven’t been up to writing.

Anyways, I think back to all those cheesy movies and the saying “in sickness and health… blah, blah, blah – I DO! – You may kiss the bride.”  Well for those of you closest to me, you may remember that I had the flu during our wedding, literally…



Like others remember, the day was beautiful, the foliage picturesque, and our tribe (family & friends) came to gather to make it the most unforgettable day of our lives. 

I will forever have all the pictures, worth more than a million words, which captured that sacred moment in my historical timeline (and luckily a lost and found khutbah).  So, in other words, I really can’t write anything unique to express that day, because I’m unwilling to try to express, an inexpressible feeling - the first day that forever changed my identity.  A perfect ceremony, which brought together two “tribes” forever, bonded by the love that Jim and I had for one another.  I could spend hours talking about the dreams we shared for our future, or the dreams we shared for our future child(ren). 

There are even better stories from the actual day – and Grandpop Troilo’s twinkle toes, Honey and Grandmum Fisher lifted in to the air to unite our tribes, which will forever, luckily, be bonded by a beautiful son, Jonah.  So, without diving to deep, I will remember three unique things to my wedding weekend.  




First, my bridesmaids and mother yelling at me to sneeze, as many times as possible, before my make-up was done so I would not ruin the pictures and my princess dress, which took hundreds of tries to find the one (thank you again for all who had to endure the wedding dress search).  Secondly, I walked down the aisle, clutched tightly to my Mom and Dad, not wanting to let go, because I knew that my life would forever change in that moment; although, I did let go because Jim’s big grin – from ear to ear, with his watery, ocean eyes - were waiting and so reassuring that I was more than willing to take the leap of faith into the arms of the man, who I loved full heartedly.  

Thirdly, I remember a GREAT party – The Fishers always threw great parties – but this one was extremely symbolic – the last MAJOR party at Sunningdale, my second home growing up; the same place that I celebrated my Bat Mitzvah and I’m sure my naming ceremony (My parents would have to confirm)…  All of the stages of my life (and many more Fisher family parties) had some connection to Sunningdale. At this point, we all knew this was probably the last major Sunningdale party, before my parents sold to start happily enjoying their retirement.  One era was ending; yet, another era was starting, my future.

So, what did my wedding party say?

Christy (my childhood best-friend, now 20 years) wrote: “It was a perfect day for a wedding!  Everything went off without a hitch!  A lot of people had a hand in making it such a perfect day - thinking back to the day before the wedding we were preparing the reception hall adding table covers, chair covers, tying bows and making things pretty and then there was Jim....he was on a mission - while the rest of us were concerned with the overall appearance of the day, Jim was focused on doing what Jim did best, working tirelessly on his beloved laptop, occasionally asking how to spell something to make sure the programs were just right.  You see to Jim, he was marrying his best friend, and he could have cared less about chair covers and bows but he had a vision for the overall appearance of the programs...and just like the wedding, the programs were just right!”

Note: afterwards, I kindly reminded Christy that those programs were suppose to be finished weeks before the “day before”; but like Jim, they got finished his way, perfect and great and at the last minute – I believe someone picked them up from the printers the day of the actual wedding – Thank you family member, who was responsible for covering Jim’s last minuteness!!!

Alyssa (my college bestie) wrote: “When Sam first told me about Jim, I knew she was madly in love. They had just met and she knew it was a little crazy, but she couldn't stop talking about him. I was used to Sam talking my ear off :) but when she talked about Jim...something was different.

When I met Jim for the first time and saw them together, I knew what Sam knew...they were a perfect fit. When Sam first told me that they were getting married, I knew it was right and I couldn't wait to stand by their side on their wedding day and smile. And that's all that Jim did for the entire wedding day...and every day after that.

He smiled through the billion pictures, smiled through the night of dancing, smiled through the toasts, and just kept smiling...at Sam all night.

That is how I remember Jim on his wedding day...and always.”

Jodie, our “reflector” sister wrote for Jonah: “Your parents had a love story they write songs about, a love people wait their whole lives for and never find.

On the night your Mom and Dad joined their lives together under the chuppah, we were all there to witness that love.  The ceremony was beautiful; your Mom looked like a princess, your Dad a prince.


You could feel it in the air, the joy, the love, the happiness. Jonah , my dear nephew your family knows how to throw an excellent party, and we had a blast.  Family from your Dad's side, family from your Mom's side, friends of all ages joined in hands and dance the Hora, surrounding your parents in a ring of joy.
I remember one particular moment when I pulled your Dad aside and told him how happy I was to have him as my little brother now officially. So, Jonah please always remember your parents wedding was a magical night, that I feel honored and blessed to be a part of.”

Liz holistically remembers:  “I don't actually remember the first time I met Jim. It is as if one day he didn't exist, and the next day he was family. I don't remember a period of getting to know him, of waiting to see if he and Sam would be a good fit. In my mind, he appears one day and - poof - I have a "baby" brother. He's just there in our lives, at my Rosh Hashana table, in my parents' den, eating with us, entertaining the little kids, critiquing meals he didn't like, praising those he did.

Jim was immediately a member of the family. His idiosyncrasies - losing stuff constantly, cooking delicious meals that took forever to make - were just absorbed as part of our family lore. To the kids, he was a hybrid of kid and grownup. I remember my son and nephew running up to Sam once to ask, "Auntie Sammy, can Jim have a sleepover with us?"

Jim was so quickly part of the Fisher clan that Jim and Sam's wedding seemed to me less like a joining and more like a symbolic recognition of the joining of families that had already happened.

I have many flashes of memory from that day: the nephews all in their fancy suits and orange converse high tops, the beautiful fall weather, my daughter and Jim's niece walking down the aisle - Jim's niece tossing flowers as instructed, my daughter picking them up. They were also, automatically, cousins.

The night before the wedding I gave a toast. In it, I acknowledged and committed what was, in my mind, already true. That Jim was a Fisher, and that we, the Fishers, would always be there for him, no matter what.

I hope and believe it was true throughout our way too short time together. I know that the inverse was true. Jim was there for us - he was always 100% authentically James - playing games with the kids, watching tv with my parents, many times hanging out with us all while the more outwardly social Sam went out to see her friends.

It was Sam and Jim's anniversary this week, and she asked me to write something, so I have. But for me, that anniversary only marks what we already recognized, that we now had this guy in our lives, this warm and fun and sweet person, and he was, of course, part of the Fisher clan.”

In Summary:

Our anniversary has now come and passed, but with this wicked cold that I can’t seem to kick, which brings me back to the flu on my wedding day = overwhelming. I’m starting to realize it’s not the “large moments” in my and Jim’s life that made our relationship so special – it was our everyday interactions that were priceless – the stupid, funny grins he gave; the willingness to let me drag him out of bed to do some crazy activity for the day; the bartering and negotiating over activity versus the chores he would get out of by participating…  Side note, Jim always got the best of those negotiation deals…  I was always a sucker when it came to Jim.

In some ways, Jim and my life took the form of dog years, yes it was a month of courting, a year + engagement, close to five years in marriage but in my mind – it feels like we had a lifetime of memories, or 41 dog years of memories, packed tight in to the small box of time that we were granted.  Forever, I will be grateful for Jim encouraging me to push the box, and standing behind me each and every time – As I always say, Jim opened my eyes to the lighter side of life, and gave me the blessing of living in the moment.  And, forever I will have our wedding song – the first song Jim ever sang to me (literally sang) a month into our relationship branded in to my mind – because in a lot of ways: metaphorically and physically, Jim always was:



“I'm walking
All by myself
I was talking to myself about you
What am I going to do


I was singing
This song about you
I was thinking about singing
This song for you
The more I think about it
The more I know it's true


The more I think about it
The more I'm sure it's you
Honey I think you're just right
You're just right” "Walken" (Wilco)


In our minds, we were “just right” for each other – and that is the most honest and deepest thing that I will take away from this past week, month, year, and all the dog years that I was lucky enough to spend with Jim – never did we say “we were perfect” but “we were just right” for each other. 


With Love to All,
Sam 

Saturday, October 4, 2014

ToT versus JoT

"Maybe the sun will shine today and the clouds will roll away" "maybe I won't be so afraid" "I will understand, everything has it's plan - either way" Wilco

Our son, Jonah was born on the Eve of Yom Kippur 5773, or September 25, 2012.  The day is memorable for many of reasons, including James answering his phone on time (this never, ever, happened), then he proceeded to call EVERY SINGLE person he knew on his 45 minute drive to the hospital, to explain my water-broke and it was time (this was on the 24th), before any doctor, nurse, or professional even confirmed I was truly in labor…. Thankfully, my water was broken and I hadn’t just peed my pants…


Anyways, we went to the hospital with the idea that our son would leave with the name, Tyler Owen Troilo.  We liked the name Tyler; Jonah was a last minute idea that (I think) Jim threw out the day before we went in to the hospital, but we immediately threw it to the side because, at the time, we were pretty set on Tyler.  ToT – Jim and Jenny - would say like “Tater Tot” – Jim could be the Tater and Jonah could be the ToT…

Then, Jonah was born (a whole entire different story for another time); but, finally James and I were holding a healthy baby boy tight in our arms, and it was the Eve of Yom Kippur - 5773 – the day the Jewish people across the world were preparing to atone for our sins, the sins of our friends, neighbors, strangers, and humanity across the world.  And Jim looked at me, and said, this baby is not a Tyler; he is a Jonah…



And, we agreed, our son would be named Jonah Owen Troilo, which resembled so many things in our lives at the time.  First and foremost, the story of Jonah is part of Yom Kippur tradition and read each year– in a VERY brief synopsis:


Jonah trusts in life/G-D/spirituality, gets thrown off the ship, lives in a big fish for three days, and then is brought to shore and ends up warning and saving a nation/city/a people, etc… and has a short conversation with God on why mistakes and transgressions need to be forgiven.

  
For us, Jonah stood for so much more, it was my and Jim’s theoretical trip to the shore.  We were in a new state (Texas), a new beginning, a new era of our adult lives.  The big fish had delivered us a baby boy, through a stormy but safe ride (the longer story for another day), which ended with the best gift any family could dream of, a healthy, happy boy – who from the first time we saw him was automatically our Jonah.  Tyler was a name in the past, and there we were, on the Eve of Yom Kippur smiling down at our beautiful, son Jonah, our redemption – our future – our legacy, and all at once – James and my lives were consumed by this beautiful boy, Jonah Owen Troilo.


Of course, who knew the story would continue the way it has – and the story of Jonah would continue for new trials of spirituality and new trials of trust in something bigger.  As you can imagine, that is an unanswerable question at this time…  But, 5775 is here – Jonah and I are survivors; we are on some type of new shore – Of course, it’s scary, and unknown.  People like me hate not to see clarity.  I do know that James would want me to look down at our baby boy – and remember the first time we stared in to the eyes of our redemption, our fate, on the Eve of Yom Kippur.

So here we are, at the start of 5775, with a ton of unanswered questioned; yet the one, and most important question that will ALWAYS remain answered is that James loved that baby boy - delivered to us on our theoretical shore – more than life itself; and that love will carry us through, even through the roughest seas.

With all the love in the world, James – Jonah and I wish you a Happy 5775… and promise you that we will find, at least moments of happiness in 5775 – because that is and was your dream.  And, I will continue to try remembering Yom Kippur for the love and greatness of a storm that ended with our baby boy, Jonah Owen Troilo.

"Maybe the sun will shine today and clouds will roll away" "maybe I won't be so afraid" "I will understand, everything has it's plan - either way" Wilco

Wednesday, September 24, 2014

The Start to the Tales of My Loving Husband, James

The Start to the Tales of My Loving Husband, James

Several of my closest, over the last few days have been discussing the delay in writing, especially through social media, even blogging, or just gathering thoughts, changing thoughts and then deleting those same thoughts before it ever translates to paper.  I can relate and have done so as well these last few months, especially the last 30 days.

I have been contemplating the best way to honor my husband’s love for art, computers, techy stuff, his weird music stuff & collection of start & stop hobbies, I have witnessed over the years (which lets say, I have almost thrown three devices out the window in the last month, bought one new device, and cursed more times than willing to admit, over the complex systems in our home).

First, Facebook wasn’t the right space; Jim secretly hated Facebook, twitter, and anything that did not involve the secret society of what he would call the “bottom dwellers of the internet”.  Mainstream social media was never good enough for my husband, instead he participated in secret online forums, with buddies from across the country; maybe a little of “anonymous” (before it became cool), and some site, which literally is the pit of the internet (not silk-road) but equally as inappropriate – which always caused us to bicker; and, Jim to laugh hysterically that internet “trollers” could fire me up so much….  The originals, on his secret forum would have to agree, my feathers could get ruffled, intentionally, which they then ALL would laugh about ALL day long, while I went back to my reality of work, wondering how they still collected pay-checks… – not mentioning names…

So – what is the place that feels right for collecting memories, thoughts, stories, pictures, or whatever…?  I have started this thought, been overwhelmed by this thought, and finally have made a decision to this thought - An open space/ blog – no controls, no monitors, no structure – post pictures, share thoughts, share funny stories, share annoying stories, share whatever you want – because Jim would want a place where he could be remembered, without any filters, and all to have the freedom to post any which way they want – use your name, post anonymously – write a word, send a picture, write a book – Jim wouldn’t care.

However, I KNOW! Jim would want a place for Jonah to be able to go some day (when he is 18) to read, see, and explore, who his father really was – the good, bad, mostly funny - and most importantly - the kind-souled, laid back, best and most loving Husband & Daddy possible. 

Lastly, over the year, I plan to try to capture the most of the Sam & Jim adventure possible, which was the most amazing fairytale of love at first sight, romance (in an indie way), then some reality, and finally grown-ups Texas Troilos’ with Baby Jonah – our best accomplishment EVER.

I have no idea what order I will write, how frequent, or if this will be a Jim hobby that dissipates for something new and bigger – but I do know, I have to start somewhere – so this somewhere equals here.  And, I encourage y’all to participate on the journey of the Tales of James, Jim, Jimmy_T, Jimbo, Jimbodani and My Loving Husband James (Jim choose that name).  Because, there is no one who could have loved me and Jonah more, followed me to the end of the world and back - and supported us in so many silent ways that forever I will be deeply grateful,
















The largest lesson Jim taught me was to see the world through Jim’s laid-back, carefree lenses – because for Jim it was always about the moment – and when the moment ended, a new moment started, and he never had hard feelings – just good vibes and good times.  Several times, after a disagreement, I would say, “Jim should we talk about that, I’m sorry I said that” – his consistent response was ALWAYS “Sam, stop being silly, that was yesterday, stop being dramatic – you love me, I love you – our love will carry us through anything”. 

On the eve, of Rosh Hashanah – Jim’s day when – in my opinion – he really connected to something bigger, spirituality in some sense – I wish to hold on to the belief that “shit happens”, but good vibes and good times will be ahead someday, and somehow; because, my loving husband, James would have it no other way.

To all those celebrating – Shana Tova! To a sweeter year, for mine and yours.

Please contribute to the collections of Mr. James Troilo, in any or every way you feel moves you.  Given all of this, I will be decommissioning James’ facebook page in the upcoming week - and transferring the more important data to this new space.
















Welcome to the Tales Of My Loving Husband, James.  I look forward to hearing stories from y’all – so please don’t hold back.