Trek for the Cure

A couple of weeks ago I stopped by a fundraiser for a local man (pictured left) who has started his own movement for the fight against cancer. To raise money and awareness he is running/walking from Fountain Square in downtown Cincinnati to Santa Monica California. His name is Brandon Perry and he's a local club promoter who has lost one too many people to cancer.

He and I have several mutual friends on facebook and I saw what he was doing through them. I requested to be his friend to see if I could find our more information about it or help in some way. I went to his website: http://www.trekforthecause.com/ where I found that he left for his journey on April 3rd, the three year anniversary of my daddy's passing. I wrote on his facebook wall telling him how much I admired what he was doing, that my dad too has passed away from cancer and he coincidentally was leaving on the anniversary. He said if I got a picture of my father to him he would take it with him on his journey.

I took my picture to him on the day of his fundraiser at Lunar. I loved how genuine he was. Some people do good things for praise; to be noticed. I could tell right away that this was not Brandon's motives. You could tell he cared, he was truly sorry for my loss and he reminded me that his Trek for the cause was for my dad. He told me he was leaving a trail of pictures from here to California of all the pictures he'd received from people. He will be taking a picture of where he leaves my father's photo so I can see where his photo will be. He gave me a big hug and I wished him good luck.

I also stopped by his send off on fountain square yesterday. I got there pretty early so it wasn't in full swing when I was there but I've heard it was an amazing send off. I look forward to seeing where he is on his journey everyday as he updates his followers via facebook. It is such an amazing selfless thing to do and I'm not sure if he knows what it means to those of us who are effected by cancer. It means more to me than I thought it would. Thank you Brandon for being an inspiration.

I used to love motorcycles...

I traveled down to south Florida in May of 2008, to visit one of the most amazing people living; Aaron. It was a month after my dad died so I was having a great time and then with the blink of an eye I was having a horrible time. I felt the best when I was on the back of his motorcycle. We drove around and the ocean breeze on my skin as we flew down the highway or on a road that ran parallel to the ocean was ah-maze-ing. I can't describe it. I guess if you like motorcycles you know what I'm trying to describe. All I know is that I was obsessed with getting one since that trip. I did a lot of thinking that year. About my dad, about loss, about life, about so many things. I thought about jumping on a bike and just riding, thinking about things with that wind at my face, more than it was probably healthy to. Of course since I never ended up buying a bike the feeling dwindled but I knew if I ever ended up on the back of a bike again that feeling would come back. I still get this feeling, kind of like that "going down the hill on a roller coaster" feeling in the pit of my stomach when I hear an engine rev by. I even used to have a saying "If I dated you and you had a bike, then you know why I dated you" lol of course that doesn't apply to A-ron :)


Tuesday night my best friend in the whole wide world called me and said "your best friend almost died today, like in real life." She had also gone down to Florida visit her stepfather, who is an avid Harley fan. He took her for a ride on the back of his bike and wrecked into a truck on the highway. She flew off the bike at 55 mph, flipped over the truck and went tumbling across the pavement. She said she couldn't be sure how many times she flipped and when she finally came to a stop she wasn't sure if she was still alive. When she realized she was she crawled to the side of the highway to her step-dad and waited for the ambulance, who was surely called by someone who saw the accident.


The good news in this story is that aside from her bruises, swelling, etc she was not majorly injured. No broken bones, no permanent damage. Her stepfather sustained more serious injuries but will be okay.


I was kind of in shock when she told me. I guess just glad she was okay. But when I really stopped to think about it, it really freaked me out. This is my very best friend in the world. She held my hand in the hospice room when my dad took his last breath. Every single detail of my life she knows. She knows me better than anyone in this world. Had she not been wearing a helmet she'd be dead. She FLEW off a motorcycle over a truck and flew across the pavement! I cannot imagine that happening to me. And she got herself up and crawled to the side of the road. I know she was scared but I know she is STRONG. I thank GOD she's okay. I wouldn't have been able to handle any other outcome. I feel that saying, you're only given what you can handle, and that must be true. Losing her would have killed me. So thank you daddy for watching over my bestest friend in the whole wide world. And thank you God for the reality check. You never ever know what tomorrow will bring. I'm becoming really good at not holding grudges, not holding onto dead weight and enjoying every second.


I think this sums it up "If you were going to die soon and had only one phone call you could make, who would you call and what would you say? And why are you waiting?"


Thank you Jenna for always being there for me no matter what. When I called you at 1am cause my dad was in the hospital and things weren't sounding good. You got up and went with me. You listen to every crazy story of what goes on in my life and you encourage me no matter what I choose to do. I've never had to second guess our friendship for a second, in the last 8, 9, 10 years. We've laughed and we've cried together and we've laughed until we cried. We've danced on the table in the middle of a cruise ship dining room with 1,500 people watching us shake what our mamma's gave us, had our own parking spot at vertigo, lived in my momma's basement together, we were the best damn shoe sales women Dillard's has ever seen, made Christmas snowflakes with paper and scissors while highly intoxicated, we carried out top secret missions in Gatlinburg and successfully made a grown man run screaming out into the woods from a perfectly safe cabin, we both recovered from our "Tony's," we've learned life's lessons together, and helped each other through them, we've encouraged each other and have never looked down on one another for silly decisions we might change if we could. This list could go on for days, but most importantly, we've made our father's proud. You ain't gettin' out of this life that easy! We still have to get married and have little babies at the same time and they'll grow up and fall in love with each other! We're gonna be old women, who sit and talk about old men. I love you Jennifer Grause forever and ever amen. You're the best woman I know :)

p.s. we should have a song, may I suggest :)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eY6xCYplIpk

Crazy things my parents do...

I've decided to create a new installment that will be a part of my blog. My mom and my step-dad have become quite adventurous in their old(er) age and they've started doing some pretty funny things.

My sister called me a couple weeks ago at around 11 o'clock at night, she said she needed help because my parents were going crazy. She said she could hear them run from their room to her room. They barged in her room and said "We're gonna do what you do!" So they got on her bed, while she was in it doing homework, and started jumping up and down yelling "HELLO MICHELLE!" while papers and books fell to the floor. She called me while this was going on, I could hear my mom in the background yelling "Hello Seeesta! Helloooo SEEESTA!" Translation- 'Hello sister.' I could just picture the two of them on my sister's bed tormenting her, while giggling at her. Proud at themselves that they got her back for times that she had jumped on theirs. My sister explained that my parents complain that she doesn't hang out with them often. She's always at school or working, but every now and then she'll go in their room and get on their bed and say ''I'm hanging out with you!" This was their way to return the favor. I literally laughed at this vision for so long that I couldn't fall asleep. I laughed about it the next day. What was the conversation they had to decide to do it? They were already in bed, so where they like "I know let's get up and go jump on Michelle's bed!" It makes me laugh again just thinking about it. :)

Today, my sister and I went for a run. I called her on my way home from work and asked her if she wanted to join me. She also invited my mother along, but she declined. She came to my house and we did a routine of jogging for a minute and walking for two, then running and so on. We did this down a major road by my house. Halfway in, during our walking part, a car coming our way slows down, honks, and two crazed people started yelling "RUN RUN RUN!" at us. Of course it was none other than the 'rents, they knew where we would be jogging/walking/running and they doubted we would actually be running. So they took the 5-10 minute drive from their house just so they could find us and yell to us, to run.

Hilarious! I'm looking forward to what's next...

Boots!

I want some!

Nola 2011

I've decided against Go New Orleans 2011. I can't say that I'm happy about it. Unfortunately I'm horrible at fundraising and I'm trying to do some new things financially. I am also trying to get myself involved in new volunteer opportunities locally.

I really sat down and thought about my motives to go to New Orleans this year. Last year I knew one person I went with and I was eager to get down there and help; do some good. This year I was afraid my motives were more about recreating the fun I had last year, than they were about giving back to the city. I'm still not to the point where I feel comfortable praying out loud for someone. It's still a bit odd for me. I think there are other ways that I can grow the way I did the first time in New Orleans. I'm thinking of a small road trip with my camera and my journal would do me a little better than seven 10-12 hour work days. Selfish maybe. But needed.

I'm hoping to either head back to New Orleans in 2012 or maybe somewhere overseas for a mission trip.

mmm

I had my first green beer this year. Turns out it taste just like regular beer :)

Erin Go Braugh

In the past couple years I've taken a real interest in finding out more about my Irish heritage. I've been saving for a trip to Ireland as well. I'm hoping to make it there next year. In honor of St. Patrick's Day I'll be headed down to Newport on the Levee to drink some green beer and have my very first ever Irish Car Bomb, lol. I know I'm late but better late than never.

A little bit of history on O'Hogan:

It has been recorded as O' Hogan, Hogan, Hoggan; this is a famous Irish surname. It derives from the Old Gaelic name O' hOgain, which means male decendant of "Ogan", a nickname which literally translates as "young man". The original namebearer, Ogan, was himself descended from the uncle of Brian Boru, High King of Ireland (1002 - 1014). Therefore the Hogan's descended from Kings and Queens of Irealand! The Hogans come from County Clare with adjacent parts of Counties Limerick and Tipperary. The chief resided in Ardcrony near Nenagh, County Tipperary, and today, the great majority of namebearers belong to that county.

Fun facts about St. Patrick's Day!

St. Patrick's Day is religious feast day and the anniversary of his death in the fifth century. The Irish have observed this day as a religious holiday for over a thousand years. On St. Patrick's Day, which falls during the Christian season of Lent, Irish families would traditionally attend church in the morning and celebrate in the afternoon. Lenten prohibitions against the consumption of meat were waived and people would dance, drink and feast—on the traditional meal of Irish bacon and cabbage.

The actual color of St. Patrick is blue. Green became associated with St. Patrick's Day during the 19th century. Green, in Irish legends, was worn by fairies and immortals, and also by people to encourage their crops to grow.

The very first St. Patrick's Day parade was not in Ireland. It was in Boston in 1737.

In Chicago, on St. Patrick's Day, the rivers are dyed green. Mayor Daley is also of Irish descent.

The phrase, "Drowning The Shamrock" is from the custom of floating the shamrock on the top of whiskey before drinking it. The Irish believe that if you keep the custom, then you will have a prosperous year.

Legend says that each leaf of the clover means something: the first is for hope, the second for faith, the third for love and the fourth for luck.

HAPPY ST. PATRICK'S DAY!!!

Just keep going...

I just want to drive, I mean for months. I live off one of the last exits before civilization basically ends for a while. Before you head off to Lexington or Louisville etc. I cannot tell you how much I want to just keep going with nothing but the clothes on my back, music and my camera. I've been on several road trips, but of course there are always time restraints. Saint Louis, Gatlinburg, Chicago, Nashville, Columbus, where ever it may be. I go to meet people, to party, with hotel reservations etc. I just wanna drive, with nowhere to be, no restraints, so I can pull over and take pictures of whatever I want, talk to whom ever I want, do whatever I want. I'd even stay at those 'side of the road' motels no matter how creepy they may be. You have live a little right? I'm going to check that out, see how that might work out this year.

"life is a highway, I wanna ride it all night long"

Journey

So I kind of started this spiritual journey this year. I really want to write more, and I have, but what I've been writing about has been pretty personal so I don't share it here. I thought though that there are certain things from my journey that I feel comfortable sharing, and there are things I can dig deeper into as well.

My new years resolutions have been working out well. I've been going to Crossroads every Sunday, I've only missed one because I was out of town, but I actually ended up watching the service on-line because I didn't want to miss the message! It's refreshing to go to a place that just talks to you about life, experiences and the best way to handle them. I look forward to it every week.

I started going to church because I wanted to find peace, with my dad. It's been almost 3 years and I still don't handle certain situations I think I should. Certain things make me way more upset than I think they normally would. I'm not impatient with myself. I know it's ok, but I realize it's something I want to get better at. I realize it still hinders me in certain ways. I just want to be the best me and I think it's really helping me get there. It's helped me be more patient with myself.

"We don't receive wisdom; we must discover it for ourselves after a journey that no one can take for us or spare us."