On Rest in Paradise, Lexa

Yesterday, my dear friend, Lexa passed away after a nine day battle with an aneurysm. She was an amazing person, and had her whole life ahead of her.

She was Fifteen.

What makes things like this happens?

Why are the young, vibrant, good, and loving, so often taken from us, while the abusive, murderous criminals are given long lives?

Someone once told me, "Some souls are too good, too pure for the evil of this world."

I'd have to agree.

Her death has hit me hard, has made me re-evaluate life, but I'll be honest. Right now, I'm too angry to take solace in those re-evaluations. I'm too angry to remember the good times, the positives. I'm too angry to be thankful she is no longer in pain.

I'm angry she's gone. I'm angry this happened to her, and that she'll never laugh again, or show such excitement when she's able to hold a handstand. I'm angry the doctors couldn't do anything, and that I never got to say goodbye. I'm angry her parents had to go through this, had to lose their child.

I'm angry, because it isn't fair.

Life isn't fair.

I'm angry the sympathy vultures have come out. The people who couldn't be bothered with her in life are suddenly so "sorry" she's gone. They post their 'love' for her in every public forum, and are the first to seek out grief counselors at her school. They want to make themselves feel better, look better, and get the attention they feel they deserve, for having known Lexa.

They didn't care about her, they didn't take time to get to know her. They didn't laugh with her, talk about dreams, fears, and goals. And now they can't.

Everyone grieves differently.

Some people go about life like nothing has changed, because if they don't, they'll crumble into a ball.

Some people think 'that's life' and move on.

I hold my grief tight and feel every bit of the emotion. It colors my life. It will always color my life, though each day the colors will change.

Lexa isn't the first person who touched my life and was taken too soon, and she won't be the last, because, life isn't fair.

One day, I'll be able to be thankful for the positives, not cry, but smile when I think of her. That day isn't today.

Today, I mourn for the young girl who told me I was her big sister, and that she loved me even when I was grouchy. I mourn for the girl who strutted her stuff, because she was beautiful, and I mourn for the girl who was also oblivious to the guys who watched her.

Today, I mourn for Lexa, may she rest in Paradise, where her love and beauty can shine on the world without pain, without hurt, and without judgment.

Rest in Paradise, Lexa. Until we Merry Meet Again.


R.S.

On Lexa

Life is a fickle bitch. 

One day you could have the whole world in the palm of your hand, and the next, everything could be tossed around you like broken rag dolls. 

As anyone who has read this blog knows, I spent the last several months as a lifeguard. During that time, I met an amazing, vibrant, beautiful and caring, young girl. She is on Varsity Swim Team and Varsity Cheer. She came in early to swim laps, even though usually she ended up keeping me company in the early morning hours. 

She is only fifteen.

She made me smile every day.

She made me laugh, and she made me shake my head. 

She reminded me what it was like to be a teenager, and she would ask my advice on what to do to get away from the drama of being a teenager.

I spoke with her the other day, through Facebook. Just small talk about working out, getting in shape, and craziness of life. 

That was at 4 PM.

The next evening I found out she was in the hospital. She'd suffered a brain aneurysm. 

This beautiful girl, with her big smile and laughing eyes isn't visiting the pool anymore. She's fighting for her life in a hospital, attached to a ventilator. 

She is strong and a fighter, and I know she won't give up, but she can use help. I'm not religious, but I believe in the power of faith. Right now, every little bit helps. 

I've spent the last several days wishing I'd stopped to let her know what her visits meant to me, to make time for those plans we talked about. When I get the chance, the first thing I'll say to her is, "Thank you for caring enough to be you. Thank you for being my friend." 

Life is a fickle bitch, and you never know when everything will change. Don't wait to tell your loved ones how you feel, or how thankful you are for them. Don't put off having coffee with that friend, because you can't always do it tomorrow.

Keep Fighting Lexa. You're in my thoughts. Always.

R.S.

On Returning To the Real World After An Extended Absence

I'm baaaaack!

Please, please, no need for applause. ;)

After four long and exhausting months, I'm finally back and ready to get down to the busy and sometimes lonely business of writing. I've had characters and plots poking and prodding me for months now, and finally I'll have the time to do something about it.

As of today, I am no longer employed by someone other than myself. The experience of being a lifeguard, while rewarding and enlightening (not to mention physically active), just isn't what my life needs at this time.  I made the decision to step away from the poolside after many days of introspection, and weighing the pros and cons.

I made a few amazing friends and a bunch of pretty cool acquaintances. There are people I'll miss deeply, and some I'll never think of again. The last few months have been an educational experience, and the changes I've made in myself and my surroundings will continue to show throughout my life.

There are many reasons I chose now to go back to my quiet and mostly orderly world. I'd made the cut and had been kept on for the winter, and yet I have chosen to leave. Some of those reasons are easy to understand, some I will share at a later time, and some reasons will never be known by anyone but me.

While lifeguarding filled a void in me I hadn't realized was there, it was never my passion the way writing is. Though I love physical fitness, and in the next couple of years will realize my dream to become a personal trainer, it isn't the focus I need right now.

I need to focus on my family. On the Marine who should be getting orders to who knows where, shortly. On the Munchkin who is experiencing new things every day. I want to be there with her, I want to be awake enough to help her with homework, to make her lunch, and to spend quality time with her more than just two days a week.

I need to focus on R.S. Emeline, Author. She's been sorely neglected, and I'm afraid to see what damage my absence has done to that part of my life.

I need to just Breathe.

Something I forget to do sometimes.

So, starting today, I'm breathing life back into myself. I'm taking the bull by the horns, and I'm jumping back into the saddle (and any other quaint phrases you can think of). It's time to let those stories out, to refresh my blog, to make new friends and network again.

It's time to get back to me.

R.S.

On Remembering 9/11/01

Everyone seems to remember where they were and what they were doing when the planes crashed into the towers. I know where I was (at home) and what I was doing (sleeping).

Every year we focus on the fateful day, on the people who were sacrificed, and who have sacrificed everything since then.

It was our darkest day, and now we strive for the light.

Being close to the military brings an added layer to the memories. All day today I was surrounded by the men and women who have fought on the front lines. The men and women who proudly sacrifice not only their personal lives and their time, but are willing to make the ultimate sacrifice so the rest of us don't have to--in the hopes we never again experience such tragedy.

I wasn't in New York, Pennsylvania, or D.C. that day, and I don't personally know anyone who was, but here is a link to a blog from Meg Cabot, the best selling author of the Princess Diaries, and a person who was there when it happened. It's a touching and emotional story that should be read and shared every year.

Today isn't completely about the past. It's about the present and the future. Each of those 3000+ people who lost their lives on 9/11/01 had dreams. Dreams that will never come true. We have that chance--the chance to make our dreams come true.

The question is, what are you going to dream?

R.S.

On Kindergarten is Tough.

On Monday, the Munchkin started Kindergarten.

I had no problem when she went to Preschool, and didn't even have much of a problem with the idea of dropping her off at the public school for her first day of Kindergarten.

Then the first day came.

The public school is nothing like her private preschool, and I suddenly want to rob a bank to afford to send her back to private school.

The level of connection is non-existent at her public school, the teacher is standoffish and gruff (not to mention NOTHING like the teachers I had in elementary school).

 I have fond memories of the first six years of school. What if the Munchkin doesn't?

The upside, after a questionable start to the week, the Munchkin seems to be adjusting to her new daily schedule.

And passing out everyday when she comes home.

Kindergarten is Tough!

R.S.

What are your experiences with sending your little ones to school? Private or Public?

On Getting Back in the Saddle

Since my decision to apply, train for, and become a lifeguard in early June, my life has not been my own. In fact, I barely recognize myself.

I'm TAN!

This is a huge deal, since I've never--not once--in my entire life, tanned. In fact, Casper had more pigmentation than I did.

Now, I'm a pretty caramel color that glistens nicely in the sun.

I'm also really toned, and find all of my pants are too big. It's getting hard to find pants to fit too. A huge personal goal has been reached here!

However, no matter how great those things are, what isn't as great--the real thing that causes me pause--is how little I've done in my chosen profession.

My profession isn't being a lifeguard. That's just something I chose to do for shits and giggles.

I'm a writer, and I'm an artist.

In the last two months, I've lost that. I've spent hardly any time doing what I actually NEED to do to be happy, or successful. During this time, my new novel, Murphy's Law came out, and I barely blinked. I sure haven't done the type of pimping I should have.

So, now that my body has forced me to take a break and slow down, it's time to get back in the saddle. It's time to remember that lifeguarding is just a small step in my life, not a permanent fixture. It's time R.S. Emeline got back to the basics.

With that in mind, have you purchased your copy of Murphy's Law yet? Go...go forth and read!

You know you want to read me! 

On Changing My Name to Grace...

Last Monday, while swimming my daily thousand meters, I got what felt like a cramp in the arch of my right foot. It wasn't a bad enough cramp to keep me from swimming, so I continued on--finishing the last six hundred meters.

That night I went to pick my sister up at the airport, and while driving home I realized my foot hurt, but didn't connect it to the pain from earlier (I'm just focused like that).

 In fact, I didn't think anything of the lingering pain until Wednesday, when after spending two days on my feet, moving large poolside equipment, I found I couldn't walk.

Turns out, I'm so graceful, I managed to get a stress fracture in my foot--without doing anything.

Usually, I'm obviously graceful. Doing things like, dropping an aqua-treadmill on my toe--on dry land, running over that same toe with a heavy guard stand, and separating that toe nail from the bed of my big toe with a rolling pool cart.

It's official, I'm changing my name to Grace.

On the upside?

The required downtime given to me by the doctor and being enforced by my employer, may give me time to get some real (AKA, writing) work done.

What are some of your graceful moments?

R.S.