the only constant is change

two years without my mom.

i had been so eager to get to the 1-year mark because i thought i would magically stop feeling the hole in my heart. but, alas, that did not happen. two things did happen after that first year which caught me off-guard. one, i started to feel an emergence from a dark cloud, which i didn't think i would ever feel. it was baby steps, but the emergence let me feel other things again. by the summer, 16-17 months after she passed, i found i was again aware of my surroundings. i could now look around the house we bought 2 years prior and unpack boxes that were forgotten about, hang up art, or think about decorating for any holidays. most importantly, though, i could be present with my children again.

that first year was all about survival for me. it's cliche to say, "My children saved me," but, in a way, it was true. they had to be dressed, be fed, get to pre-school, have play-dates, etc., and it was up to me to do all that when all i wanted to do was lay in bed and/or stare at a wall. i had to put aside any grief and focus on them, and at the end of the day i was too tired to think or feel. but the grief would creep up and it would come on quickly and suddenly; the second thing that caught me off-guard. it would come out in rare moments i was in the car by myself and i would lose control of my emotions. or washing dishes. or folding laundry. and while these moments in the last year came less, what i didn't count on was the intensity of them staying with me for a few days before getting back on my feet. i felt that for every 2 steps forward i took, those intense moments set me back 5. this made the second year of grief to be a lot more difficult than the first. i felt her physically gone in every one of my pores. and being so much more aware meant the holidays, especially Thanksgiving, were more difficult to get through than the first year. any firsts that happened last year were that much more painful, such as walking my older daughter to school on her first day and leading her to her line for the first time, and then saying goodbye just about killed me.

there are many ways in which my mom's death changed me to the core, and i'm still sorting through those changes and what they mean to me. the sense of finality is so ingrained in me now. i have always strived to live by the words, "Live each day to its fullest"; however, being present with someone who takes her last breath made those words grow life-sized and turn into neon-colored block letters for me. i feel those words. they are not abstract to me anymore. i savor more moments in my life. i tell myself to risk a little more. i remind myself more often to be grateful of the life i've had up to this point.

i still struggle with witnessing my mom's passing. i vacillate between being grateful and happy we were able to fulfill her last wish, and anger because i will forever have those images seared into my memory. it is also my last memory of her.

i feel her sometimes and have dreamt of her, and, of course, i miss her like hell. but i see her in my baby niece and that always makes me smile. i hope i keep feeling her close and i look forward to our fleeting moments in my dreams, but i especially look forward to seeing her spirit come through in her grandchildren.

i don't know what to expect from this upcoming year. from what i'm told, the hole never goes away, but its pain lessens. i can already tell this is true. i try to remind myself that our mom wouldn't want me (us) to dwell on things. for as beautifully, vivaciously, and chaotically as she chose to live her life, and despite seeking out ways to challenge the status quo, one thing she was incredible at was accepting things as they were. she would often remind me that i was stressing over things that i could not control, and i've been trying to work on keeping myself focused on that. i saw her battle breast cancer in 1995 and i saw her fight for 12 weeks in late 2015 through early 2016, defying predictions of top specialists at the Mayo Clinic in Phoenix. she shocked nurses and doctors with her will to pull through. her numbers weren't matching the situation she was in. they couldn't make sense of it. but there is always a check-mate and this was cancer's turn. while i'll never know for sure, i think there were a few days of sadness, and maybe even anger, on my mom's part once this reality was presented to her. but 48 hours after meeting with her team where we were told there was nothing they could medically do for her anymore, i noticed her entire demeanor had changed. she was ready to come home and she was no longer in battle mode. she was in acceptance mode. she still had 8 days of hell to go through. we all did. but underneath all of that was the acceptance that this particular life's adventure was coming to an end. out of all that i witnessed and went through in those 12 weeks, this is the one, last, big lesson she taught me. it was also very much in character. so, in honor of her, i've written out the lyrics of the song we played at her request during her memorial - Frank Sinatra's, My Way:

And now, the end is near

And so I face the final curtain

My friend, I'll say it clear

I'll state my case, of which I'm certain

I've live a life that's full

I've traveled each and every highway

But more, much more than this

I did it my way

Regrets, I've had a few

But then again, too few to mention

I did what I had to do

And saw it through without exemption

I planned each chartered course

Each careful step along the byway

And more, much more than this

I did it my way

Yes, there were times, I'm sure you knew

When I bit off more than I could chew

But through it all, when there was doubt

I at it up and spit it out

I faced it all and stood tall

And did it my way

I've loved. I've laughed and cried

I've had my fill my share of losing

And now,...

Buči buči myliu myliu.*

*Lithuanian, "Kisses, hugs/I love you."

Minorities and Illegals Hogging up Obamacare?

The 2016 election brought out so much ugliness that it's sometimes overwhelming to think about much less digest. There's been analysis, finger-pointing and name-calling, but none of it changes the past. It's important to look to the future which, I admit, is hard to do given the direction that the federal government wants to take us.

One of the issues the 2016 election brought to the surface is the rampant racism, hatred, and misogyny that pulses through America's veins. Sometimes these pulses are larger and stronger than other times, but they have never ceased; they are always there.

Republicans like to put topics like welfare and healthcare into clean little boxes with such labels like "privilege". I remember under Bush, Jr., Republicans began to use the word "privilege" when talking about welfare and how it should be reformed. To some degree, I actually agree with them on this topic, but it certainly is NOT, nor has it EVER been a "privilege." We all pay into the till that is welfare and, should we ever need to use it, it is our right to have that money, not a privilege to. People forget this. But, Republicans count on that. They are master manipulators and master marketers. The Democrats could learn a lesson or two from them when it comes to mass marketing an idea and selling it.

As a result of this ability to master manipulate, Republicans have expertly convinced white people that minorities and (illegal) immigrants have stolen rights from Americans. What they really mean is that minorities and immigrants have stolen rights from white Americans. On this note, enter Trump. He rode this wave all the way to the White House. Taking this fear of "the other," he and Republicans campaigned for Obamacare repeal arguing that not only is it too costly, but that it is "giving away" healthcare to all those who didn't deserve it. In other words, the federal government is giving away healthcare to minorities and immigrants, mainly the illegal ones, and that this should be stopped.

But....really? Is this true? Are the minorities and illegals hogging up Obamacare?

Los Angeles Times published this article about children and healthcare. Taking a map of rural US counties, they were broken down by which counties voted for Hillary and which ones voted for Trump, and how much of those counties' constituents depended on government-issued healthcare.

For example, Fayette County in West Virginia overwhelmingly voted for Trump, yet 53% of its children rely on Medicaid and CHIP (Children Health Insurance Program).

564,000 people in West Virginia are covered by Medicaid.

47% of West Virginia children with special healthcare needs are covered by Medicare.

Fayette County in West Virginia is also mainly white. [1]

Do you think the parents of Fayette County are somewhat concerned as congressional Republicans move to cut hundreds of billions of dollars over the next decade from Medicaid? These parents voted for someone who degrades women, stole from other businesses (by not paying them for services), filed for bankruptcy multiple times, doesn't understand policy or how to govern, yet rode to the White House on a mountain of racist and hatred-filled sentiments. He has even surrounded himself with people whose agenda is to bring back a white America (whatever that means). The hatred and fear of "the other" is so deep among white people that they willingly gambled on their children's health. Please read that sentence again.

Here's what kids lose without coverage:

- fewer to no check-ups

- fewer to no immunizations

- more lost days of school

- more trips to the emergency room

- families must choose: food or healthcare

I'm no economist, but the above short-list of what children lose without insurance doesn't seem to invest in a child's future which then, looking long-term, doesn't invest in the future of America. A sick child doesn't go to school who then falls behind who then drop-outs who then becomes a burden on society because s/he has no developed skills. How is this a cycle people want?

Here's what a kid gains when insured:

- better health

- improved reading and test scores

- lowers risk of being a high school drop out

- increases future earnings

20 years ago, about 14% of children nation-wide lacked healthcare coverage. Today, that number is at 5%. How is this a bad thing? Yet, "Senate GOP legislation would slash more than a third of federal Medicaid funds over the next 20 years and nearly double the ranks of the uninsured by 2026." [2] I always thought the idea for a country was to move forward, not backward.

Going back to the map of the rural US counties for a sec. Out of 780 counties looked at nationwide, 622 had a majority of children on Medicaid.  Most of these children are white (whose parents voted for Trump, let's not forget), and these children, the future of America, are at risk of losing healthcare if Trump and Republicans get their way. Please read that sentence again.

Aren't Republicans the party of "family values?" Are children no longer a part of that equation?

"The funding cap in the Senate bill would increase only at the rate of inflation, leaving states with an increasingly larger share of the medical costs, which have typically increased faster than inflation. And because the same flow of federal Medicaid money covers care for children as well as for poor seniors and the disabled, deep cuts would probably force states to decide who is more deserving of medical care." [3]

States will have to decide whether children deserve medical care or whether poor seniors and the disabled deserve medical care. Please. Read that sentence again. Then let me know who of you is itching to run for State Assembly, State Senate, or Governor with that possibly on the horizon.

A country is only as good as its constituents. If the constituents won't have a heart for everyone, including those who look different from them, there is no healthcare out there that can save that heart.

Map of the counties. [4] More detail found in article cited above, but for additional information, including seeing the above map, please visit here. 

For more information on the subject please read The Atlantic's "How Kids Would Fare Under the American Health Care Act."

[1] Levey, Noam N. "Children's health at risk in Trump country." Los Angeles Times, 06 July 2017: A1. Print.

[2] Levey, Noam N. "Children's health at risk in Trump country." Los Angeles Times, 06 July 2017: A9. Print.

[3] Levey, Noam N. "Children's health at risk in Trump country." Los Angeles Times, 06 July 2017: A9. Print.
[4] Krishnakumar, Priya and Levey Noam. 2017 July 6. "Medicaid's vital role for children in Trump Country." www.latimes.com/projects/la-na-pol-medicaid-children/ 

Losing Working Women

If I went back to tell my 18-year old Self that not only would I be married, have kids, *and* be a SAHM, that Self would laugh at me, slap me, tell me to shut up, and then go on about her day procrastinating. I was so career-driven back then. Er, OK, I was so in love with the idea of having a career but was too scared to chase the one thing I want(ed) more than anything. I find it's easier to just say I was career-driven. Especially since I couldn't figure out what I would actually settle into since I was interested in everything.

Flash forward many moons and here I am. A stay-at-home mom. What? Now, right before getting pregnant with #1, I landed a great job finally taking a real shot at my dreams. I quickly recognized a group of people I connected with and production companies I would've liked to have laterally moved into figuring that if we weren't having kids, I was going to dive into a 60-hour work week schedule with pleasure. But, 8 weeks later, #1 had different plans.

Getting ready for the baby, my husband and I had many conversations about whether I, being the one making less money, should be the one to stay home for the first few years or whether I should go back to work. After some research, and considering other reasons like the benefits of having a parent stay-at-home, we realized it wasn't cost-effective to have me go back to work. It was hard knowing I'd have to give up the budding steps I had started to take toward a career I wanted.

Usually having to wait a bit to read the paper, I immediately read the LA Times article Why are so many women dropping out? As predicted, I shared a similar story with the women in the article and agreed with the research found. There are several reasons women are dropping out of the work-force, but I'm going to focus on the lack of affordable child-care. It's not easy sacrificing an income, especially living in southern CA, but we would be handing over my income to a day-care or nanny while, at the same time, the children would be seeing very little of either parent. What's the benefit in that? Why have kids then?

I would've loved to send my children to a Montessori school. Depending on the length of time that care is needed, the prices range from $13,555-$18,145/year (2016-2017). A co-op I found in Santa Monica in 2014 would've been $8,400/year for 3 hours a day with the agreement to volunteer your time in the classroom and at one of the two or three fundraisers they held each year.

According to Child Care Aware of America, infant cost at a center in CA is on average $13,343 whereas public college tuition is $9,267. Make of that what you want. The average salary in CA is about $64,500 (2015 data). Nationally, it's $55,775. In 2012, day-care cost in CA was $12,068. In 2016, it was $13,343. In four years, that's at a 10.56% increase. Whose salary has gone up almost 11% in 4 years? Anyone? Bueller? (1)

We had children later in life and that's mainly because we felt we didn't want any, though I, personally, couldn't commit to that 100%. I knew I maybe didn't want kids, but there was always a "but" at the end of that followed by ellipses because I just didn't know how to finish that sentence. 

There's so much pressure to have kids from outside sources like TV and movies to the more interior sources like family and friends. Then, you find yourself expecting and everyone is overjoyed. Then you have the kid and realize all the support is gone. Maternity and paternity leave in the US are a joke. I can't help but wonder why there is so much pressure in the US to have a family when we have built a structure that does everything but support a family, especially a new one. I will refrain from getting into the hostility towards women of child-bearing age, but will mention that the lack of support affects fathers as well.

Women in Finland, e.g., start maternity leave seven weeks before the due date. They then get 16 weeks of paid leave and after a child turns 3, parents can partake in partial care leave where they split their time between work and child care until the kid is in 2nd grade. There is also 8 weeks of paternity leave.

Denmark gives 18 weeks maternity leave at full pay. The father gets two, consecutive weeks of paternity leave. (Though that's kind of wimpy, if you ask me. Dads are important!!)

Sweden gives 16 weeks at 80% pay on top of the 18 weeks given to mothers. That's a little over 8 months that baby stays with mom. Fathers get 90 days paid paternity leave.

Other countries to make the list of great maternity and paternity leave are Belgium, Iceland, Serbia, Norway, Hungary, Estonia, and Lithuania.

Of course, an argument can be made that these countries listed don't have the kind of economy that we have. Though, that could be debatable now, but I'm not an economist, so I won't go there. But, for a country like the US that pushes to have a family, we certainly don't invest in them. As a whole, we work long hours that take a toll on our mental and emotional health which then ripples into how we relate to our family members.

I'm not saying child-care should be free. And, as a parent, it's important to know that responsible, emotionally-stable people work with my children. As a result, it's easy to think that the more something costs, the chances are higher that there will be better care. And, while this is usually the case, I know from a family member who worked at a premier, top-notch day-care and pre-school on the Westside, that this is not always true. I, personally, observe interactions between teachers and students, and pay close attention to children's demeanor in the environment. This speaks more to me than any price-tag. But, I digress.

I feel that we've lost sight of things. We should have affordable child-care. People shouldn't have to feel like they're losing by having kids. There is so much you gain by having them, but it can be hard to keep sight of that if one has to quit a job and then live (welfare) check to (welfare) check as Mari Villaluna does (as mentioned in the LA Times article).

If a woman wants to work, she should. It shouldn't have to be an either/or choice.

(1) To see the average cost of child care in 2016 in your state, visit here.

Two Deaths, One Week

I started this last week with the sad news of the passing of my dear friend's step-father the day before - which was her wedding day. Her beautiful, emotional, and touching wedding that he was supposed to attend, but didn't. I ended the week yesterday afternoon finding out about a dear family friend's tragic murder in Sequim, Washington (along with her dog) 3 days ago by a young man she knew well. He was recently diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia, hospitalized on Tuesday because of an incident where he attacked his mother with a pencil. He had been released the next day from where he went directly to Cynthia's house.

I am stunned to know someone who was not just murdered, but viciously so. I am beyond heartbroken that two families I know have lost a loved one unexpectedly. I am heartbroken that a friend has to start her marriage under such a dark cloud, and that another family has to grieve a loved one lost at the hands of another.

One thing that has made me take a step back is reading comments about the young man who murdered Cynthia. He is sick. He needs help. He needs medication. What he did is wrong. But he is SICK. People are attacking him and calling him names. They probably don't know about his diagnosis but it underscores how quick we are to judge. How quick we are to misunderstand.

Death is so final. I know this brings out a "Duh". But until someone in your inner circle dies, you can't understand the depth of that word "final." I didn't even understand completely despite the painful death of a close neighbor in 1996 from bone cancer and another very close family friend passing in 1999. To me, death was something that happened to others. Of course I knew I'd die one day, but it was in the abstract. When my mom died, mortality punched me in the face. Now, I know. And the depth of the word "final" keeps deepening because, at least, initially, in the first year or two (maybe three, I don't know) there are constant reminders: the empty car you have to sell, the clothes that need to be packed and given away, the books and furniture that need to be given away, bank accounts that need to close... I see all this and think, This will be my stuff one day. My kids will have to do this one day. My kids will feel this one day.

I want to say something inspirational but it all feels cliched. Life is hard. It is unfair. It gives relentlessly and take away mercilessly. We can feel or we can push away. I have mentally aged a lot since my mom's passing last year, and with each subsequent death, I understand more deeply that all we truly have is but this moment right now. Then, it's gone. And we have a new moment. Then, that's gone. And so the clock ticks.

We're so fond of compartmentalizing our lives, prioritizing what is most important to us. For many, it is money at the top of that "most important" list which then dictates every decision in order to reach that goal. I remember the day my mom died, I desperately kept counting the few dollars I found in her purse convincing myself that if I kept counting her money, she'd come back. Money is tangible. You need it. If I just held her money in my hand, she'd be coming back, right? But the fact is, no matter the way of death, you take nothing with you. No body, no car, no money. In the next place, these things aren't needed. Or maybe there's something better.

I can't make these families' pain go away as much I would like to do so. I told my husband last night when I broke the news to him about Cynthia that grieving is such a horrible feeling that I wish I could protect everyone I know from that dark, lonely pain. But I can't. So all I can hope to do is hold my wish deep in my heart for these families to find truth and honesty within themselves to help them cope with this journey. I also hope deeply that we, as a society, get serious about mental health. No one deserves the kind of death Cynthia got. She loved life. She loved to travel. She loved people. A big part of her reminded me of my mom. I hope she is flying free, laughing, smiling, forgiving.