Every Day is a Gift

This post is a tribute to our cousin Anna So, who passed away unexpectedly earlier this week while giving birth to her second child.

I guess I have to admit it...I am a Facebook addict. While most people are content to check their homepage twice, maybe three times a day, I am constantly refreshing my homepage to see what new news is being posted. Maybe it's because I'm a SAHM, and it's my link to the "outside" world. Either way, I'm addicted...and it's out.

It's through Facebook that I knew that my cousins Anna and Josh had finally been admitted to the hospital for an induction late Monday night. Both Anna and Josh posted pictures to their pages, Josh posted pictures of the room and a cute picture of Ryan on a fold out bed and Anna a funny picture of her two boys whiling away the time on their electronic devices. Later on Tuesday, it was through Facebook that I found out that the induction was slooow going. Josh posted, "It's like watching grass grow," and later checked in at Peet's twice. Anna's last post was around 4pm and it was encouraging, "Ahhhh, epidural..."

Dave was scheduled for his second ink session that evening, and with my sister in law Carol babysitting the girls, I was able to go with him to the shop. I brought along my handy dandy iTouch (yes, sad...I am iPhone-less) so I could keep abreast of what was going on. As Dave was getting tatted, I excitedly informed him that it looked like Anna was finally ready to push...Josh had just posted, "It's go time!" Just a few hours later, though, another post from Josh, confused, concerned...Anna in emergency surgery, not conscious, baby not breathing. Whaaa? We left the shop concerned, but not overly so. This was 2011, afterall. Modern medicine was miraculous, Anna and the baby would be ok.

We got home, and proudly showed off Dave's new ink to his sister and briefly discussed Josh and Anna's situation with her before Dave walked her to her car. Of course, while he did that, I refreshed the homepage again.

"I am at a complete lost for words right now. Anna passed away tonight after complications. I don't understand why this is happening. Please pray for us and the family"-Josh

Numbness. Refresh. Reread. Shock. Refresh. Reread. Disbelief. Refresh. Reread.

Since then, Facebook has been a boon and a bane. Friends have posted prayers and well wishes, which have helped me hold it together (albeit tenuosly, as I break down at weird and random times). I still go back to those earlier posts, hoping that maybe, just maybe, they'll be gone and everything that has happened will be erased like the posts.

Anna and I weren't related by blood, but by marriage. We were the same age, and by coincidence, she happened to marry Josh, who I knew from college. She, Daphne, Michelle, and I were the "next generation" in the family. We went on MNO's, I went shopping with her (she took me to Burberry, and I took her to H&M), she gave me running advice, and we always made it a priority to get Kara's cupcakes. Now she's gone, and I don't know why.

As I try to find the faith to understand the meaning in all of this, I have been telling people to take every day as a gift. When my dad was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, this became evident to me, but it is even more so now. Take the time to really cherish the people around you. Every day is a gift.

Crash Course in Vacation

For those of you who are familiar with our family, you know that we have not flown with the kiblets EVER. Until now. Recently, our generous, and brave, and very cool cousins, invited us on a trip to Maui with them. Offers like this do not come by (especially to families with three young children) too often, so naturally, we took them up on it.

Having not flown since prior to 9-11, and never with young children before, I was anticipating the flight from hell. Of course, friends have crossed the Atlantic on 14-hr journeys with mulitple children by themselves and here I was, laden with backpacks filled with distractions for a mere 6 hours for a little hop across the Pacific. We all survived, backpacks for the most part untouched, completely overpacked for our stay in paradise.

Our too short stay there was heavenly. We swam, snorkeled, paddled, sunned, and ate shave ice to our hearts content. And while we were unable to purchase the lovely T-shirts that boast, "I Survived the Road to Hana" as we only made it to mile marker 31 before christening the sand bucket, the Road to Hana will forever be a threat daddy can use when the girls get too unruly in the car!

Now that we're home, the time change and the late night flight are taking a toll on my novice travelers. I wisely kept the girls home from school today, despite Alison getting dressed in her uniform at 7:50 this morning. It turned out to be a good decision because by midday, she had shut the car door on her own head and tripped on Jake and done a face-plant. By this evening, she was in hysterics because she had a booger (her own, mind you) on her hand.

Aloha, dear friends. I certainly hope it won't be another 11 years before we return. But for now, I think it's time for everyone to go to bed!