Born-again DIY-er

SO help me God I went into a craft store for one thing- seriously one thing.

I walked out with a basket full of items (all wedding related) and had to do a deep breathing exercise.

I'm going to shamelessly steal my fiance's catch phrase of the month and say...

AND SO it begins!

Tissue paper in my wedding palette! Find!!!

Those who know merecently may see the hurried and harried Leah who is always trying to do too much. Convenience food, short-cut solutions and pre-fab gifts and cards are best suited to my lifestyle these days. But those who have known me for a while have seen another side all-together. A side I bet you never would have guessed. I admit it.

I am a closet Martha Stewart. 

Yes, that's right I am. When I was sick as a teenager and later on as a young adult all I had was time and a lot of stuff. One thing people give you when you are sick- is "stuff". I found ways to recycle little ribbons on gifts I got into little things I later gave as my own gifts.

Being sick also equals lack of money...which led to this necessity for thrifty creativity.

So go figure...here I am in A.C. Moore re-exploring my former creative self.

I resisted the urge last night on the phone to tell Patrick about this trip to the craft store.

I am marrying a very creative man. He's an actor and truly an artist. But definitely prefers the arts to the crafts.

I learned this about him when we were wandering through Ithaca after a nice dinner at Moosewood. I innocently led him into a craft fair in Ithaca and I heard his breath change. The man literally develops hives in Michael's. No joke. I swear he is allergic to craft stores.

His deep seeded fear is quietly respected. It's an understood...that this is where 'together' doesn't quite work. I think we have an understanding...if I create the object of beauty he doesn't have to know where it came from, or the process...or picture me in his head with a glue gun.

But as I think about ways to save a few pennies -- there is this little piece of me deep inside who has re-emerged. As we roll into all the planning for our wedding a year from now her voice gets louder with every 50 percent off coupon. I'm itching to get out that paper cutter and the mod podge...and SO it begins.

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Just so there is no mistake made from the account above-- I am not - I swear not taking this wedding planning thing too seriously. I have a healthy sense of humor about the nuttiness that comes over some women as they approach this point in life. I will admit I am guilty of some of the stereotypes and silly little bits that are part and parcel of the process.

It happens in different ways - to different extremes. 

As of now nothing has hit me yet at a point where wedding craft rehabilitation is needed.

..this video sums up the hilarity of that whole 'bride thing'. Enjoy & laugh your butt off!

A tribute to my father in law to be

It's hard to express the range of emotions that I've experienced in the past two weeks. Two weeks ago my fiance Patrick lost his father. The loss of a parent is a grief that truly can't be measured with an adequate understanding, I suppose, unless you have walked the path. Yet, in an odd way I am both on the outside and the inside of the loss. I only met my father in law to be Neil Noonan once. On a road trip back to his hometown Patrick and I met Neil and his wife Judie for our favorite meal in a restaurant outside Milwaukee. Over pancakes and coffee I met the man who raised the man I love. I never thought it would be both the first and last time I would meet him.

When we became engaged two months ago Patrick's father was quite excited, but as I later learned he not only gave this union his blessing...he shared it with many of his friends. As the stream of friends and family walked through the church where he was laid to rest many came up to me. Sometimes before Patrick had had a chance to introduce me some of their eyes would light up with recognition from just that one picture we had taken. The one Neil insisted we take at the restaurant with he, Judie, Patrick and I. Thank God we have that picture. Several friends wasted no time in putting their hands in mine- as if they knew me right away. " Well, you must be Leah."

They told me how much Neil talked about his son's wife to be. Holy cow! That's me!

One of them told me his eyes twinkled when he spoke of me. As I heard these recollections I couldn't help it...my eyes filled with tears. I began to see how deep the bond would have been in our coming years. But that bond has not broken- not really.

For me, there could be no greater honor than to have held a place in the heart of a man who I would never officially get to call my father in law. I did not have the pleasure of knowing him very long before his time on earth ended.  Yet, there were Christmas gifts exchanged, cards, phone calls and I was privy to a few of his trademark playful jokes. 

Patrick and I looked forward to having his presence at our wedding. 

 Though he will not be there with us on that day- I feel somehow that I can still call him my father in law and carry him with us...because the absence of his earthly presence is mere technicality. I loved Neil Noonan, not only for who he was to Patrick, but for his heart and his open welcome of me into his heart. There will never be a picture of us together on our wedding day (with me in the white wedding dress). Yet at our wedding a year from now...I know he'll somehow find a way to be there.

'Till we meet again.

Below is a video I made for all who loved Neil Noonan. It features a song performed at his service this past Monday. The song is the beautiful trio of voices of his children singing his favorite song- about a racehorse whose legend carried throughout Ireland.
 Hope it provides some comfort.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fMP7BRaMcQQ


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Dancin' In The Rain

Yesterday morning I was greeted by a most incredible poem, the status message of a young woman I've gotten to know in the hospital. She's 16 years old and as is often the case of the young people I get to meet - she's wise beyond her years.

I won't share her poem on here. She's given me permission to post it on the Teens Living with Cancer Facebook page . But its gist is that so many people bemoan rain falling on them and dash away from it with angst. There's been a lot of rain in 'monsoon Rochester' these past few weeks. One might understand the frustration.

This young woman chose to take the rain differently. 
Her answer: let the rain fall on her and enjoy the feeling of simply being alive. She knows now at 16 that time is not assured. She knows that time is a gift, no matter the length. Experiences must be taken as they are - even if we desire something different. That's because sometimes we just are not given a choice. SO it is that this young woman has chosen to celebrate...

And how did she come to realize this?

Well, I don't have the answer to that question. Because despite cliches you might hear about cancer survivors- not everyone is magically given inner strength. Young people face especially steep obstacles as they weave their way through the chaos that is a life already so yet undefined. Sometimes young cancer survivors must traverse a rocky trail without the soft cushion of comforts on that journey. Things like gratitude, hope, laughter, simple joy...or even the support of friendship on an entirely deep level. 

That's why I love doing what we do at TLC. Whether the comforts are there for the traveler or not- they are given and/or reinforced in our special place. Being able to join forces in that shared deep understanding is key to what makes friendships cement together in our 'little program that could'.

This August we are climbing a mountain. That's right. Eight teens are going to climb a mountain with us in the Adirondacks and maybe feel the rain on their skin without the shelter of four walls. Feel and know that they are capable of reaching their dreams.
For you Colorado friends this by comparison, may be a hill. But their challenge will be very real on this trip.

We've been preparing for that trek. Last week we met at Mendon Ponds Park with our wilderness zen master, Rick French. We were there to learn the basics, but mainly to just feel what it's like to take ourselves out of the clutter of our busy and overstimulated lives. And yes, the rain fell on us as we paddled to shore. And it was wonderful.

I know I share these things often with you. The lessons our teens continually remind me of reinforce why I love what I do. Because they share with me...I am blessed.

Their lessonsdon't really shrink into a Hallmark card. The quote at the top of this blog is the best I've come up with, but it pales in comparison to that 16-year-old's facebook status I mentioned.

The depth of what I learn from these young people I am privileged to meet through this work feeds me and my life. It's what drives both Lauren and I forward... to help all of them get to this 'dancing in the rain' level of resilience. It's deep stuff most times.

More than five years ago I wrote Lauren Spiker an email. Lauren inspired me, but it was her daughter Melissa's story that brought me a piercing and profound understanding of what remains to be done for teen cancer survivors. I came aboard as a volunteer, moved toward part time worker...and now the Teens Living with Cancer program is officially my job. 

For this work, having already trekked my own difficulties as a young adult I already had an edge. Knowing the landscape of forgotten cancer survivors I had an understanding. However, as a 26 year old and then a 28 year old during each respective diagnosis, I was lucky to have been swept into the momentum and strength of a movement for young adults - it was happening everywhere, all over the web and throughout conferences happening all over the nation. 

But five years ago I was educated. It was the A in AYA (Adolescents and Young Adults) that was absent. There were voices speaking out for the twenty and thirty somethings - feeling justifiably out of place. In the United States...we had Lauren Spiker and her daughter' legacy. 

Teens tred water at the deeper end of that AYA pool the 15-39 pool. They were forgotten by even the movement that spurred such national attention. Until one mother, who I now am lucky enough to work along side said "Hey, what about them?"

Not every soul touched by cancer is lucky enough to dance in the rain. It's hard to get to enjoying life in throes of this cellular and singular experience called cancer. Yet, tools we provide do make a difference. How do we keep doing what we're doing?
The answer is we need you.

I hope you'll continue to remember the other group some have forgotten. So the A in AYA can also dance in the rain.

And I want to announce to those who run (or walk)
Sunday October 13th you will have a chance to help that forgotten group with TLC's first ever 5k!!!!

Will you please help me get the word out...so we can continue to give teens TLC.
Join me 10-13-13 a run for our teens!

To Catch a Thief

Amidst wedding planning that involves the question "how the heck do we afford this?" something awful happened. 

On Monday night while I flipped through wedding magazines with my sister someone went to an ATM and withdrew $400 from my savings account. 

What's more shocking isn't that they stole $400 from me. It's that they did it with a bank debit card they stole before it ever reached my mailbox.

I have been struggling with the idea that someone stole from me. "I can't believe this happened to me!" A typical initial why me scenario. But my eyes have been opened.

According to the Bureau of Justice:
In 2010, 7.0% of households in the United States, or about 8.6 million households, had at least one member age 12 or older who experienced one or more types of identity theft victimization.

Among households in which at least one member experienced one or more types of identity theft, 64.1% experienced the misuse or attempted misuse of an existing credit card account in 2010.

Alarming, huh?

Anyway, long story short...I found out about this within hours by mere accident. I happened to call my credit union Tuesday morning because my newly issued card never arrived. I called just a mere 10 hours after this slimeball went to a 7-11 on Titus Ave in Rochester-- probably bought a slurpy and lottery tickets...and walked casually out with my money. Had I not found it that morning they may have taken me for all I was worth.
Bye bye life savings. Bye bye funds for a wedding. 

What still remains is how this happens. How someone stole my card...and also had access to the pin numbers in separately mailed unmarked envelopes. In the mail or before it even got to the mail truck?

I've done all the right things. 

• The credit union immediately stopped the card in their possesion. 
• I filed a police report. 
• I filled out an affidavit with my credit union and had it notarized. 
• I contacted my post office in person to report the possible theft.
• I've made an official report with the postal inspector
• I'm watching my account like a hawk
• My reissued card will be sent to the bank for pick-up (versus my house) 

I want this person caught, but I have very little expectation this will happen. Right now the police say it's not their jurisdiction if it happened in the mail. The bank's fraud unit is supposedly on it. 

The bureaucracy is tough to wade through as a victim. In the last 48 hours I've spent hours on the phone and in person doing all the right things...but knowing that as we sat on the doorstep of a federal holiday - hours will be lost. 

The other steps I plan to take must wait until after the 4th of July. My paperwork will sit on a desk and another thief may get away with this. 

I hope that's not the case but I have to be realistic.

I've had 2 sleepless nights- waking up with a start from a nightmare. I can't imagine how I'll feel safe again with my money or my identity. I check my bank account hourly. I wince at the thought of what could happen next. 

My advice to all my friends and blog followers reading this- keep your eyes open and if this happens to you, act fast. It's a really crazy world out there. 

Yep, that's a ring on my finger!

Engaged May12, 2013

I'll admit it. I never thought it would happen. I never thought I'd find someone who I wanted to spend the rest of my life with and frankly, from a lot of unsuccessful dry runs I never thought anyone would ever feel the same about me. About ten days ago I heard that question...but first I saw it written in bacon. That's right. I said bacon.

A little explanation. Patrick and I have always shared a love of breakfast (not bacon in particular) but it's been something that's always been our thing. Our first date was a breakfast date at Charlie's Frog Pond in Rochester. An actor and a daytime non-profit worker had to find common time together to schedule a date....and so it happened we found our time. Since then breakfast has always been special to us.

So on Sunday May 12th I never expected that our breakfast date would be any different than the many we've shared together. That was until we'd long finished our meal and he just couldn't leave without getting our bacon. Suddenly, I realized what was happening...there was a scent in the air of a little more than breakfast meats. I knew. I didn't even think at the time that I was looking slightly grubby in a hooded sweatshirt. All I could think about was that something was about to happen that I never imagined...with a man I never thought I'd meet. The special guy who I love with all my heart.

When the waitress placed two plates before me at our booth in District Commons I giggled...and then I started to cry. 

He knelt down on one knee and asked...and I said yes. Not many moments in my life have felt like that one. And how many moments do you get like that?  Perhaps you longtime blog readers remember the slightly cynical Leah who shared hilarious hijinks of dating's most epic fails. I laughed about those and every once in a while shared them with you. It made for fun reading, but it wasn't always fun feeling the frustration of that struggle. Cancer itself even felt easier than finding love after cancer. All those sad feelings seemed to wash away as a distant memory the morning of May 12th.

The best part of that weekend and getting engaged wasn't just that moment itself but sharing it with others. Before we shared it with everyone else we first had to keep my lips sealed for 24 hours while we drove from DC to New Jersey to share the news with his family. Patrick surprised me by renting a convertible knowing I'd never had the chance to ride in one. It ended up being a sunny but cold 4 hour ride to Passaic but we bundled up and kept the top down all the way. And we shivered with excitement.

And then we shared our news in Patrick's Mother's Day card to his mom. His brother read it out loud to her and us and hugs went all around. We called his sister to tell her and her family back in Wisconsin. I was giddy. And then there was this warm and clear realization that I would be joining someone's family. That feeling is just so awesome.

Patrick and I with his mom, his brother Brian and his niece Zoe

Mayumi (his sister in law) and Zoe

I am so appreciative of all life has taught me thus far. But I have to admit, I'm kind of excited about being able to share what life has to teach with a partner. 

So, I guess what I want to say to anyone who is reading this blog who has battled something difficult -be it cancer or loss, or illness or a struggle of any kind is keep yourself open. The hard times you've faced don't close you off to finding love - or being loved. They merely allow you to appreciate it more when you find it. And your experience also could open you to new avenues that others may not be willing to explore or willing to have the patience to understand when they find it. His work as an actor makes travel and stints away from his newly adopted home in Rochester now a part of our reality. Patrick and I have had to spend a large majority of our 20 months together apart. Apart only by distance. 

We've found a way because we know the value in what we've discovered. It's a journey filled with challenge but a lot of rewards...and the time between our visits is rewarded over and over, each time we have that deep embrace of 'hello again'. 

Enjoy every sandwich. (Thanks Warren Zevon)

Holy cow, I'm getting married!

Stop and smell the flowers

the Oxford magnolias

It's easy to take most things for granted but nature has the knack for reminding us that we must savor the moment. Nothing is more visible a reminder of this than the beloved row of magnolia trees running straight through the center of Oxford Street. Their blooms color our neighborhood and fill the air with their fragrant scent but only for a week...and then gone. 

So fleeting is time. As blossoms now begin to rain on the grass, I remind myself that there are so many opportunities in life we must take advantage of and savor while they are here. Spring is a time that reminds us all of that. 

Next weekend I'm going to visit Patrick in DC (where he's been doing Shear Madness at the Kennedy Center) and we'll drive to New Jersey to his brother's house where we'll celebrate Mothers Day with his mom, Sharon. Patrick's mother has Alzheimer's disease...a devastating condition I've become familiar with over these 19 months. She knows my name and I love that, but Patrick and I are both aware that there will be a time when she will not.

Before this, in all the years I'd been dating, I've never really taken a special place within someone's family. This is different. I've grown to love Patrick's family and his Mom is so special to me. Her joy when she talks to me on the phone or her hugs of elation in the few times we've been able to see each other in person are precious. That's why I'm thankful to have this gift of knowing her. I've gotten to share our mutual love of horses while we led two large mares into pasture in Wisconsin and both tittered with laughter as we watched Patrick struggle to coax a stubborn pony behind us. I've seen her love of her children as she has playfully joked with them. Her sense of humor is still visible. I see a lot of who she is and shades of who she was. Those moments mean everything, but as Patrick and his family know those times are changing.

When you love someone...or someone comes into your life appreciate them. Give them your time because that's a lesson that can be the most difficult to learn the hard way. 

Stop to smell the flowers today.

Moving man

I think there's something strange about looking at a picture 

that's a year old to see what transitions or transformations have taken place. 

This was taken over a year ago in Central Park, overlooking Sheeps Meadow. It was the kind of winter day that murmurs a wish for spring - with cerulean blue sky and sunshine so bright it called for shades. The kind of day where you take a rest on a rock - eating bakery goodies and bask in the happy for a little while. That's just what Patrick and I did. 

Little did we know then that a year later he'd pack up his apartment and say goodbye to New York. 
To live in Rochester - no less! 

I've shared so much of my life on this blog for the past six years of blogging that it seems strange I leave out a major transition in it. So, long time blog followers -  this is Patrick.

You all know I'd been single for a long time - dated around and always ended up pretty disillusioned.  Like most single women who look for someone truly special I just felt unappreciated most of the time.
I was tired of the game and plain worn out from the disappointment. I almost accepted there wasn't anyone special left in the world of single men...until September 2011.

No offense to certain guys poking around who I might have dated...

but thanks for all being total duds so I could find my way to Patrick.  

One night in a restaurant not so far away I went out with a friend after we'd taken in a Geva show. I joined her for a drink with an actor friend of hers - someone who I liked right from the start. He was tall and charming and kind with dancing blue eyes. His special lady was with him that night- his mom.
I left the restaurant wondering if I'd ever hear from him or even if he felt the spark I did. I shrugged my shoulders and figured no guy wants to consider a 'long distance thing'. The very next day he found me on facebook and wrote me. Love in the age of social media, huh?

Fast forward 17 months later, here we are.

As an actor whose work is mostly in theaters travel is pretty standard. Long distance relationships aren't by nature easy, but I have enjoyed who we are even with the miles separating us. Skype, cell phones and the old fashioned U.S. postal service have become immensely necessary. We make the most of the visits we have. I guess I can say I've foregone my former single life of traveling on whim and instead picked up a coupled life of traveling with purpose. Both of us have racked up our fair share of miles. We've braved buses, Amtrak, rental cars and flights to be together. Sometimes others wonder aloud "how do you do it?" and the answer is simple - you just do.

 That's when you know it's something special. Travel is not cheap. I've stopped counting how much both of us have spent on airfare. Truth is, it doesn't matter. It's a part of our budgets as essential as the electric bill or groceries - it just is. Never for a moment does one of us question the cost. The value far outweighs the cost. 

Patrick is in D.C. right now working at the Kennedy Center on Shear Madness. But the next time he comes "home" it will be to Rochester. Funny what can change in over a year.