A YEAR IN REVIEW: 2009

12 months, 365 days - a year in review:

JANUARY - what is it about the promise of a new year? With an extremely happy 7 month old baby boy, I made plans for granite countertops and sheet rock, local and long distance weddings, upcoming engagements, WOW, a LOT OF PREGNANCIES and some pretty important career moves.



FEBRUARY - one of my favorite months, Mardi Gras. Beads, king cake, parties, balls, floats and more parties. I made memories atop the Momus float as it rolled gallantly down the Strand. I realized that I needed to make some changes in my life so that I could continue to experience and enjoy the fullness of it all. Le Bon Temps Roule, friends.



Oh YES - and a baby who figured out that HE. HEARTS. FOOD. PERIOD.



MARCH - spring brought lots of life lessons and changes. The decision to run a marathon with my pal Elise by my side. The first of many, many, many footsteps on this Seawall. And a hell of a lot of Pet Shop Boys. And Kanye West.



APRIL - I met a boy. A boy I wasn't looking for. A boy who would change my life forever. Someday soon I'll tell you all the details. But one night I sat across a fire from him and something in my soul just ignited and will not ever go out. He made me laugh and he kissed me in his parent's driveway less than 2 hours after I met him.

We've been inseperable since that night.



MAY - those who know me, know I love the hot, hot heat of Galveston and summer. We planned Memorial Day parties with Jimbo and his piggie box, spent countless hours in the pool and cooked out with the best of 'em at Yaga's. Here's to grilled fruit in whiskey...or was that whiskey with whiskey and a garnish of fruit? We also celebrated weddings of dear friends, both near and far - what a doozy of a month! LOVE, LOVE, LOVE!


The original wedding crasher, at Steve and Eleanor's nuptials


Rockin' "sweet cantalope" at Uncle Jimbo and Aunt Jenny's Puerto Rico extravaganza


Suriving another year of Yaga's Cookoff, thanks to the PR hat

JUNE - celebrating 365 days of IV with a beach themed bash at the Evia Pool. Nothing says "B'DAY" like a sandcastle cake and taking your first steps on June 14th. It feels good to be a family...whole and blessed, with nothing but a summer full of fun on the road ahead.

Sunscreen and sleeping on the drive home. Ain't life so sweet?



JULY - what did we do this summer? BEACH. BEACH. MORE BEACH. And then a little band concert. THEN MORE BEACH. God, I love this town.



AUGUST - I took my first "real" trip away from IV, traveling with MJ to Belize for a week. We discovered misuse of golf carts, massive consumption of Belikin beer, fears of snorkeling and heights and most of all: we fell in love with traveling together.

Pack it up - let's go. Anywhere.



SEPTEMBER - fall brought two things into our lives in full force: COLLEGE FOOTBALL. AND RUNNING.

Ritual weekends consisted of long run Saturday mornings followed immediately by showers and Fox Sports Southwest for the next 48 hours. MJ gifts IV with his first toddler sized sport stadium chair...and I am officially now the "less cool" parent. Thanks, MJ:



OCTOBER - fall trips to the ranch and motorcyle rally...cementing our daily schedule as a family, scrambled eggs together, dropping off and work, picking up from school, coming home to run together with IV in the BOB stroller, bathtime, bedtime, wine, movies and porch sitting.

Sun comes up and we start again.



NOVEMBER - a month that would change our lives forever.

After running the San Antonio Rock N Roll marathon on November 15th, MJ suffered from an extreme case of rhabdomyolysis and went into cardiac arrest immediately after crossing the finish line.

I can remember thinking the entire race that I wished we would have run it together; there was so much to see and so much I wanted to share with him while we were accomplishing this goal we set for ourselves.

The goal I set for my 31st birthday, November 16th.

Don't worry: MJ has promised me diamonds and fur for my 32nd birthday.



DECEMBER - facing a new year again, I found myself thinking about what lies ahead.

A wise friend warned me about creating expectations for the next 365 days of our lives. Expectations are a slippery slope, my friends. When you set expectations, you tend to miss the immediate surroundings, the blessings and miracles that happen RIGHT HERE. RIGHT NOW. How do I know that? Because often times I am too damned worried about what's going to happen next.

So my resolution for 2010 is this: live this journey, live each day and experience without judgement. Every second I spend worrying about what's on the horizon is a second I missed out on telling MJ how much I am in love him, details of what IV learned today and all the wonder that is waiting for him tomorrow.



Happy new years, my dearest friends - may 2010 bring you laughter, love and celebration.

xoxo,
Liz

MY WORLD ON A BULLETIN BOARD

There is something I LOVE about bulletin boards - I love push pins and the organized clutter of colorful pieces all wrapped around and over and under one another. Maybe it mimics my life and this crazy cacophony of laughter and love - or maybe it's just that I am a complete design addict and I refuse to throw away these little tidbits that arrive on my desk, in my mailbox, in a catalog, or on the phone.



A running list:

8 Babies Born
2 Engagements Announced
18 Children Celebrated
8 Dogs and Cats - or 32 paws, if you prefer
4 amazing events, helping Galveston in one way or another
1 set of Pantone colors, tribute to my Sullivan boys, who insist on RED
2 pages from J.Crew Kids, of pure pink girly girly-ness - because you always want what you don't have
2 pages from Pottery Barn, what our Christmas tree will look like next year
1 page from the Galveston Daily News, reminding us all what vision lies ahead for our Island - thanks Betty Massey
1 pilgrim hat, carefully crafted from construction paper, to fit IV's head

My friends surround me. Call it chaos, call it messy, but I couldn't weather this storm if it weren't for my messy, chaotic friends.

TWINKLE TWINKLE

There are times when the magic of this child just steals the breath from my chest and I want to freeze time forever. I also want to dunk him in cream gravy and devour his little fat cheeks.



MJ would be extremely proud of this present opening gusto:



When we get into opening presents from Santa, we GET INTO OPENING PRESENTS:



Welcome to OUR world, Elmo. I believe I am going to tire of your jokes very quickly. And that someone else will not. Thanks.



Parents, take note: this thing is BAD ASS. The entire maze folds up car-visor-style into a carry tote smaller than a manilla envelope. And you can contain a child, a dog AND ELMO securely for, well, almost an hour.



Christmas is about children. About magic and this spirit that moves through you and makes your heart sparkle and shine. While this Christmas would have been much brighter with MJ along side us, I have a constant little reminder by my side of how lucky I am indeed.

DON'T BELIEVE ME WHEN I SAY I'VE GOT IT DOWN

Wow. Christmas.

I am sitting in my kitchen next to a simmering pot of turkey chili and felt like I needed to write a little.

Christmas came and went with a flurry of mass, communion, nativity, Mimi's and pizza in lieu of "sidewalk shrimp," fluffy eggs and pancakes for breakfast, tissue, wrapping paper, talking Elmo, books, play-doh, a million blocks and balls.

I put IV to bed on Christmas Eve, kissed him and told him that a King was born. A very special child that angels sang and praised. And that in the morning we would celebrate.

Then I poured a glass of wine and thought about Christmas.

We pictured Christmas much differently, MJ and I. We were supposed to go to his family's house on Christmas Eve and then drive up to the ranch for Christmas Day. We were going to buy IV an art table. We were going to hang lights and cook and drink and decorate and, well, have our first Christmas together, as a family.

Instead, we are here.

I have about 10 episodes of "Say Yes to the Dress" saved and, honestly, I just couldn't watch them...

But sitting in our bed with a glass of wine on Christmas Eve, listening to the wind howl and blow, wiggling my toes in brand new Christmas socks from my Grace, I turned on an episode and my mind began to wander. I had a thought.

Prophetic. Not PATHETIC. Thanks Tiff.

This situation - this accident, this tragedy, whatever you want to call it, this is our path.

This is our journey.

OK, so I just wrote this long ass post about "be here now"- did I REALLY get it?

This is what we do.

Me and MJ.

And we do it together.

And that's it.

Every day.

One recent night MJ came up to bed after working on a consulting project and he got into bed and rolled towards me. A little drunk (um, let's not share that with the client, hope you're not readers! Sorry!), he grabbed my hand.

"I can't propose to you in front of the Christmas tree. That would just be gay" he told me.

"As long as it's not at the finish line of the marathon," I replied. "Now THAT would be gay."

We laughed and fell asleep.

But now that I think about it, he sort of did just that.

Is it possible to be more intertwined with someone, more absorbed into the weave of their soul, than when you weather the roughest times with them? When you cling to each other and you know, you just KNOW that you won't survive without one another?

I'm closer to MJ now than any ring, any white dress, any vow could ever take me.

Perspective.

Reach down and touch the bottom.

Redemption finds you faster when you come back up and break the surface.

SOMETIMES

Sometimes you need a little tae bo. Cross, jab, roundhouse to the face.

Sometimes you need a little fish-booty baby in your bathtub. SPLASH!

Sometimes you need to cry into your pillow. To the point where your glasses won't stay on your face because they keep sliding off with the tears.

Sometimes you need to pick up the phone and call and ask for help. And not really ask but magically help appears and curls up with you and talks and hugs and cries with you a little more.

And sometimes you need to finish the night off with a glass of wine, bare feet, sweatpants that say "Visitation," and a call to the Galveston Police Department about the person across the alley banging on the house adjacent from you.

Thank you friends. You are the one foot in front of the other.

FEAR THE UNDERDOG

IV received a Little Tykes basketball goal for Christmas.

Fear the underdog people, that's all I'm saying.



The state that MJ is in is rather difficult to explain.

People ask me "how is he today?" and that's a really tough one. It's the one question that keeps me from going to Kroger, from eating dinner in the front room of Sky Bar, from going to all these holiday parties.

And it's perfectly natural and kind to ask me.

I just don't really have a good answer.

MJ has some awareness - how much depends on the time of day, his level of agitation (which has been low recently) and who is asking him the questions. He opens his eyes and responds to voices, to people he knows. He looks for my voice when I talk to him and generally gets irritated when the nurses mess with him. He has a difficult time focusing or tracking with his eyes - which could indicate that he has some vision impairment. We just don't know.

I have been going to the ICU in the morning to "wake" him up and tell him good morning. He usually gives me a smile when he hears my voice.

His friends will tell you that he was always the "runt" growing up - he was so shrimpy and small...but what he lacked in size, he made up for on every other level: personality, speed, drive, competitiveness. Even now, 25 pounds lighter, he is solid muscle, giving all the ICU nurses a run for their money. If I had a dollar for every time I heard one tell another "watch out, he is really strong..."

That largeness of spirit is a lot of what brought us together. I can remember landscaping my yard one miserably hot July afternoon, shoveling and planting large yaupons, variagated ginger, knockout roses. Our relationship was fairly new and MJ was watching me sweat and work, keeping tabs on IV.

"Do you normally date independent girls?" I asked him with a twinge of sarcasm.

"Maybe you should ask which ones I stay with" he replied.

There was always a sense of competitiveness between us - we don't just play tennis to volley the ball around. We PLAY. TENNIS. As in, who-can-serve-the-others-ass-to- them-on-a-platter kind of playing tennis. When we work out together, rarely do we do less reps than one another. We run 10 miles to cure hangovers. We play cards for keeps. I have a scorecard from a Sunday gin rummy game on which MJ's column is titled "Winner" and mine is labeled "Cry Baby."

I'll let you guess who crafted that.

I guess my point is this: the same underdog spirit that has carried MJ this far will continue to carry him through this. I firmly believe that. I can let it drift away sometimes...especially when I don't see him for more than 8 hours, I've come to realize. It seems distant. I lose track.

But then I see him and it all comes back: he is a fighter. And he will overcome this.




"You have no fear of the underdog? That's why you will not survive." - Spoon

BE HERE NOW

Well, hello there.

I have run over and over the start of my first post a million times in my head since November 15th.

I'm still not sure I'll get it right.

But I pulled out on to the Seawall this morning and saw this and realized it might be time for my soul to start writing again:



I feel like I have grown a year older every day since November 15th.

36 days ago.

36 years ago.

Two things of note:

1. Life is a funny thing. A long time ago, someone used the phrase "be here now" as an integral part of our friendship. I never quite understood it or took the time to think about it. Chalked it up to artistic idiosynchracies. Cool words. Whatever.

Fast forward about 5 years later.

A singer named Mason Jennings worked his way into the soundtrack between me and MJ. I recall hearing his music, one song in particular. I didn't know the name; MJ was always playing me artists I'd never heard of, Devotchka, Fleet Foxes, Spoon, TV on the Radio...but this song was always on the playlist, over and over as we sat innumerous nights on the backporch at the Ball house. Wine drunk and in love, talking about the future, talking about politics, talking about building palapas. Just background music though. Know the song but don't really know the song.

On the way to the hospital on November 16th, I plugged in MJ's iPhone, turned on his music and the first song playing was "Be Here Now" by Mason Jennings.

Somehow, I think we knew. It sure makes a lot of sense now.

Sun comes up and we start again.

Wink.

2. There's a reason I didn't take a lot of pictures of the many adventures that MJ and I had. It just never felt right. I never wanted to miss anything that we did, wanted to see it for myself, not from behind the lens of my camera. I even brought my camera with me the weekend of the race and, again, never got around to taking it out. Unwishful thinking, I suppose. John Mayer reminded me:

I'm writing you to catch you up on places I've been
And you have this letter, probably got excited, but there's nothing else inside it

I didn't have a camera by my side this time
hoping I would see the world through both my eyes
maybe I will tell you all about it when I'm in the mood to lose my way with words

You should have seen that sunrise with your own eyes
It brought me back to life
You'll be with me next time I go outside, no more 3x5's

I guess you had to be there, I guess you had to be with me
Today I finally overcame tryin' to fit the world inside a picture frame

And by the way:

MJ's time: 1:57
My time: 2:16

We did exactly what we set out to do.



Always have, always will.

More to come, promise.