Friday, February 26, 2010

February 2010

Funeral on my birthday, Bob's car getting vandalized, Valentine's Day with a very sick husband, and a car accident. Yep, I think I am okay with saying goodbye to February. It wasn't all bad. My family and friends did an awesome job of celebrating my birthday. I lost 15 pounds, and got a lot of opportunities to photograph. Still I think I'm ready for a lucky month. Hello March, I hope we get along.

Thursday, February 25, 2010

Just one of those crazy months.

Sorry I have been a little M.I.A as of late. There has been a lot going on, and not much time to blog about it. I plan to rectify that soon. So much to talk about and pictures to post. In the mean time, I hope all is well with you. Happy almost Friday!

Thursday, February 18, 2010

Dancing Queen

A little after Bob and I got married ABBA's song Dancing Queen came on the radio while we were both in the car. I started to sing to it, Bob asked me to repeat the lyrics I had just sung, and then the conversation went something like this..

Cat: "You can dance, you can die, having the time of your life."

Bob: "So just to clarify you think the lyrics are you can dance, you can die?"

Cat: "Yeah, why?"

Bob: "Well I think it's jive."

Cat: "What? I thought that was a saying." "You can die having the time of your life."

Bob: "Yeah I'm pretty sure ABBA wasn't singing about dying."

Cat: "Are you sure about this?"

Bob: "Cait, the whole world is sure about that."

Since I married Bob, he has pointed out I sing most songs with the wrong lyrics. Like maybe Jingle Bells. Don't ask.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010


Bob got me a new lens for my birthday, and I'm loving it. I have a ton of pictures to edit from my birthday and Valentine's Day that I will post soon, but in the mean time. Here are a few I snapped over the weekend.

Monday, February 15, 2010

Never thought Monday could look so good..

It was a hard weekend. But we got through it. And even managed to celebrate my birthday and Valentines. Thanks to everyone for the birthday wishes and support. I'm glad it's a new week. Happy Monday!

Sunday, February 14, 2010

Happy Valentine's Day.

This was our first Valentine's Day we spent together. 4 years ago. Such a romantic, thoughtful day. No matter what we end up doing for V-day, if Bob's there, I'm having fun. I love my love more and more every day. More than I ever thought possible. Happy love day everyone.

Thursday, February 11, 2010

Thank you.

Thanks to everyone for the love and support. I am amazed I get to have so many great people in my life. The funeral will be on Saturday. For anyone interested in seeing the obituary click here.

Enough of the sadness, onto a happy thing. My dear friend Lindsey of Green Apple Photography is one of four finalists for a Jose Villa workshop. If you haven't seen Lindsey's work, you have to check it out. I have always said, that if I could go back in time, she would be the one to photograph my wedding. She's so deserving of this all expense paid trip and workshop.

So if you please. Go to this link,

Jose Villa Workshop

and vote for her video, "My World" (It's number 4)

Good luck Lindsey!

Monday, February 8, 2010


warm. so warm. like a furnace.

Yesterday a very loved man left us. Someone who left an imprint on my life. But not one left in the sand, that quickly washes away when the tide comes. One that was written in permanent marker. Scrawled on my insides, and on my heart.

I woke up early Sunday morning to Bob softly stirring me awake. His words.. "Your aunt called, she said you might want to get there soon to say goodbye."

I was still in a dream like state, I had to ask him a few times what he had said. I got dressed and realized I was freezing. I wished I could hop in a hot shower before I left, but knew there was no time. I dressed in a t-shirt, with a long sleeve shirt over it, and then grabbed one of my warmest pieces of clothing. My puffy vest.

I got in my car, and cranked on the heat. "Why am I so cold?" There I was taking a short drive to where I would find the man I would go bowling with every Monday morning for years. I would find him, not as I left him.

I glanced around the room and found all eyes on me. Their glances all indicated it was my turn to enter the room. The furnace. It was my turn with him, to say goodbye. To tell him I loved him. My words choked in my throat, so I whispered it in his ear. "I love you." Where were his hands? The hands I held every time I saw him. The hands that were drastically curved at the knuckles. That were riddled and a perfect sign of his disease that ate him whole, chewed him up and spit him out on this bed.

They were tucked under the blanket, grasping the bed. I took a few minutes with him, and then took my place in the room with everyone else. We planted ourselves in and let the roots seep down deep. Others came in through the morning to say their goodbyes, just as I had. Some goodbye's were tear stained, some quiet. Some with laughter remembering all the good times.

We all just stood fixed in place. Muttering to each other, but in the fore front of our minds we knew what would be happening soon. As people would talk to me, I put my mind on auto pilot and spoke, but it all felt like quiet background noise. I heard myself responding, but can't for the life of me remember who I was talking to, or what we were saying.

A blessing was given, we all sat quietly sobbing, clutching our Kleenexes, wadding them up and stuffing them in our pockets or in nearby trash cans. "Man, it's hot in here, I can barely breath."

We waited. Watched him take deep, sudden breaths. The women in the room gathered around the bed, tending to him like nursemaids. Then one at a time the children of this man stood by him and expressed words only meant for him. They each hugged him, and said their official goodbyes. We watched, we paced, made phone calls, tried to comfort each other, while we waited for him. A beautiful thing to have your family and loved ones gathered. I can't imagine a better way to go. Closure for everyone there. Strength in numbers.

I sat staring in the hallway. I had puttered out of the room to get some fresh air, to breath. Why do I still have my puffy vest on? As puffy as my tear stained eyes. I can hear myself agreeing with others it's hot. I unzip it, but can't bear to take it off. I need the heat. It comforts me. I realize after a few minutes I have unknowingly zipped it back up and have wandered back into the furnace.

I find the man with his hands above the covers. I am drawn back to the bedside. I need to say my real goodbye. I grasp his soft hands and say goodbye without words. My official goodbye. After this, I know that's the last time I will touch those hands while they are still warm with blood flowing through them. I suppose the last thing I will do at the viewing is take his hands in mine and find very different hands. Lifeless.

I could hear myself saying how hot it was. How I could barely breath. Still the vest stays on, and I gravitate to the room. After a while of pacing, we are finally all called into the room. He only has a few minutes left. We all root ourselves back in, and cry. Some cry louder than others. Some try to keep it together. But make no mistake, we all cry. He takes his last breath, and goes.

An empty shell remains. We all cry. I look around the room for strength. Is my brother crying? He can't be. He rarely does that. Sure enough, a man who normally only shows strength, has tears dropping from his eyes. Where's my dad? The man I look to every time to see how a situation should be handled. There he is crying. I understand it's okay to let my tears stream. I realize he's gone. He's really gone. It forces me to think of death. To realize he won't be there to help out to the car, his hand in mine. To have around for birthday's, holiday's, family time. No, he will no longer be a visual presence in our homes.

We wait, we ponder, we think on good times. And then I drag my drained body out to the car to drive home. I get in the car and turn on the heat full blast. I crave that warmth. When I get home I draw a hot bath, and cry. My Grandaddy's gone.

Thursday, February 4, 2010

Would You Rather (8)

Would you rather have to spend every Valentine's Day for the rest of your life with The Octomom, Heidi and Spencer, and Joan Rivers...


For just one Valentine's Day go to the nicest restaurant in the city wearing a giant candy heart costume and greet every couple that arrives?

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

My Song

I often joke that the way Bob got me to marry him was by writing me a song. Well it's not the reason why I married him (there are too many reasons to count) but it was a turning point in our relationship.

We had been dating, but nothing too serious. One night he took me home and mentioned that he had written me a song. That's when I got nervous. After all, there are a lot of guys out there who play the guitar, and think they are musical geniuses. When usually they are pretty bad singers, and the songs are a little weird. I know that sounds harsh, but I have dated some guys that know how to play a few chords on the guitar, and think they can throw a song together and make a girl swoon.

I didn't know if Bob could sing. I knew he played the guitar, but hadn't heard him play much. No guy had ever written me a song before, so I just didn't know what to say. He picked up on the fact that I was a little nervous about hearing it, and quickly said "Never mind, it's no big deal." I asked him what it was about. "You." He said matter of factly. I begged him to sing it, but he didn't have his guitar, and he wasn't sure after my reaction if he wanted to play it for me at all.

Well one night he took me to our spot that overlooks the city and played (and sang) my song for me.

And that's when I realized he was something very different. He is an amazing singer, and he plays the guitar so well. But that's not what got me. The lyrics were so perfect, that I was in tears. Not to mention the way he was looking at me while he played it, like he adored me. Me? The girl who dated guys, but it never went anywhere. Sure I had dated guys who liked me, but never like this. I could see then, that Bob was something else. I remember feeling so flattered. But the thing that touched me the most was that he didn't buy me something extravagant. He didn't make a big show of it. He had put thought into what I would like, and appreciate. And sang how he felt about me.

I still don't know how I got so lucky to marry a person like Bob. A person that is kind, and generous, and funny. I can't imagine what my life would have been like without him, or if I had married someone else. I know one thing, I wouldn't be anywhere near as happy.

(Bob hates it when I gush about him, but it's love month, and it feels appropriate to talk about the one I love most. So he'll just have to deal with it :)

Monday, February 1, 2010

Love Month

This being the month of love, I decided to jot down some of what I'm loving right now..

01. Feeling healthier, and losing a bit of weight.

02. That my husband let's me warm up my cold feet on him when we crawl into bed.

03. When our good friends find out they're pregnant after a long time of trying and painful procedures.

04. Catching up with old friends.

05. When my husband makes me tasty, yet healthy dinners.

06. Our parents endless kindness and thoughtfulness.

07. The sunshine out my window today.

08. My support system of family and friends.

09. My husband making me laugh every single day.

10. That January is O-V-E-R. We're just one step closer to warmer weather.