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 

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 24^th), 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

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.