He Did It His Way

This picture sums up my Pop-Pop so well.

In college I became involved with Relay for Life and when I was asked why I relayed, I would always respond, “My Pop-Pop.” Sure, I had other family members affected by cancer, but I was too young to understand cancer until the ugly disease struck my grandfather my senior year of high school.

My Pop-Pop was the patriarch of my dad’s family in every sense. We all adored him and looked to him for guidance and leadership. To be blunt, it was hard not to love the man. He was the “class clown” of the family and always played practical jokes on everyone around him. For instance, he had a cleft chin and when my cousins and I asked him what happened he made up an elaborate story of how he ran into a doorknob when he was younger. He was our hero and we ate up any and everything he said.

Pop-Pop also had a serious side, especially when it came to his family. In high school I experienced my first heartbreak. Shortly after my break-up, I was at a family party when my grandmother asked me how my boyfriend was doing. I guess she hadn’t heard the news of our split. My eyes welled with tears and my Pop-Pop immediately intervened and asked me to step outside with him. Once we excused ourselves, he pulled me into a hug without any questions and stood with me while I cried. 

My senior year of high school rolled around and with that came graduation. A few weeks before graduation my classmates and I had to turn in the names of family members and friends who would be attending our ceremony. My parents broke the news to me that my grandparents would be unable to attend. Their excuse didn’t exactly add up and I remember seething with anger that my grandparents would miss their oldest grandchild’s graduation. My dad looked hurt when I expressed my disappointment and I couldn’t comprehend why he didn’t understand my irritation. 

My graduation party took place a few weeks after my graduation ceremony. My Pop-Pop was in attendance and had to leave early because he wasn’t feeling well. He came up to me with tears in his eyes and apologized profusely. That's the first time a warning bell went off in my head that something could be wrong.

Later that night my mom and I were rehashing the party when my Pop-Pop’s early exit came up. My mom looked at me and uttered the dreaded words, “Laura, your grandfather has lung cancer.” I found myself gasping for air. It felt as though I had been socked in the stomach. I starred at her in disbelief as she explained how my parents had hid his illness from me since April (it was June at the time), as they didn’t want to ruin what should have been a happy time for me. As I tried to absorb what my mom was telling me, I remembered the resentment and selfishness I had portrayed when my parents told me my grandparents would be unable to attend my graduation. I have never felt more ashamed in my life. 

I went off to college as my grandfather entered the intense phases of chemo to fight his illness. At Christmas he looked gaunt, but he put on a brave face for all of us. My Pop-Pop was a huge Penn State fan, so he always gave me a hard time (all in good fun) for going to Virginia Tech. I gave him a Virginia Tech Grandpop sweatshirt for Christmas and as he opened it he looked up with a twinkle in his eye and said, “This is really great! I’ll have to find some duct tape to put over Virginia Tech and write Penn State!”

I never had the opportunity to see him wear that sweatshirt, but my dad told me he always wore it to chemo and would brag about me to any and everyone who would listen. Once he passed, my uncle and aunt gave it to me to hold on to. I don't think I will ever receive a more meaningful gift.

When I came home from my freshman year for the summer, my dad told me my grandfather was not doing well. He took me to visit him and I was blindsided as I walked in to my grandparents’ home and saw my bald grandmother. During my Pop-Pop’s fight with cancer, my Mom-Mom found out she had breast cancer. As if seeing my grandmother without hair wasn’t hard enough, the sight of my frail grandfather sent me over the edge. He once joked he shopped in the “Chubby” section, and yet he was thinner than I was when I saw him. I had to excuse myself to pull myself together.

Once I returned to the room to visit with my Pop-Pop, he immediately started singing “New York, New York” to lighten up the mood of the room. Even in one of his weakest moments, he tried to put a smile on my face. This was a true testament to my grandfather’s character. 

A few days later, on May 18, 2006, my grandfather lost his battle with lung cancer surrounded by those he loved.

His viewing and funeral were extremely difficult for all of us, however my grandfather still managed to get my family to laugh a few times, even from heaven. The power went out at his viewing, and we all had to chuckle amidst our tears. Pop-Pop had gotten his last practical joke in. In addition, my dad gave the eulogy and had the church laughing over some of my grandfather’s infamous lines.

I’ll never forget how packed the church was and how long the procession of cars stretched on the way to the gravesite. My dad said my grandfather never would had believed all of those people came to say goodbye to him. Instead, he would say they were there to support his wife, kids, and grandkids. I don’t think he understood the lasting impression he made on people. 

My family lost an integral part of our family five years ago today. I miss him with every fiber of my being.  This past weekend my dad’s family got together to celebrate both my cousin’s graduation from high school and my brother’s graduation from college. Surrounded by the love, laughter, and pure joy, it was quite clear that my Pop-Pop was present, especially when the sun came out for our family wiffle ball game. He always loved watching his 13 grandkids and 6 kids goofing off and enjoying one another’s company. I have no doubt in my mind that he was smiling down on us from heaven, as we carried on his legacy. 

Good Guys Finish First

Never take no for an answer.

My brother and I have always been very different from one another. I am the typical oldest child: outgoing, talkative, and very social. My brother on the other hand is the typical middle child: quiet, shy, and keeps to himself. Growing up, I loved playing sports and have always been the dramatic one. Danny (yes, he'll always be Danny to me) never really liked playing sports, instead opting for Robotics and the like. He also was the levelheaded child and things never really ruffled his feathers.

We could always find Danny in front of a television clicking away on his video game controller. From a very young age, video games fascinated my brother and he was often lost in his little video world. At 8-years-old, he proclaimed that when he grew-up he would design video games.

Danny always received the short end of the stick. My sister and I always made sports teams, whereas he always seemed to get cut. I passed my license on the first try, whereas he failed twice over BS reasons (the instructor ended up getting fired due to this.) You get the idea.

Fast-forward to high school: My brother went to an all boys' jock school. As a self-proclaimed nerd, this wasn't always easy for him. He was in the Robotics Club, which most guys at this school looked at as uncool. My parents and my brother were also often at war over how long he spent playing video games versus socializing and other hobbies.

Senior year arrived and my brother announced that he'd attend Georgia Tech to study Computational Media. We were all so proud of him for going after his biggest dream.

Once at Georgia Tech, I watched him struggle through GT's rigorous curriculum. I was stunned at how intense Georgia Tech was. There were no in-betweens when it came to grades. Meaning, Georgia Tech only had A, B, C, D, and F.

We'd often have late-night calls where my usually unflappable brother freaked out to me about his grades and how hard his classes were. I told him to keep trying and not to give-up. Everything would work-out, I said.

My inspiration

This year marked Danny's senior year at Georgia Tech and with that came the job hunt. I gave him as many tips and pointers as I could to try and ease what was a miserable process for myself.

He called me the day he found out he had landed an interview with Zynga, a social gaming company. I can honestly say I have never heard him so excited before. He was supposed to go to Florida for his Spring Break trip, but opted to fly out to San Francisco for his interview instead. In his words, "I'd rather have my interview now, so I don't miss school and have to stress out about school work." I was struck by his maturity and wondered if I would have done the same thing in that situation.

The night after his interview, I called him to see how it went. He was exhausted, as his interview had gone from 10 am until 3 pm and he had spoken to six different people. He told me he thought he did very well, yet he still sounded defeated. I asked him what was wrong. "Nothing ever goes in my favor. I gave the interview everything I had. I don't know what I'm going to do if I don't get it."

The following day I had a missed call from him. Danny doesn't call me for stupid reasons, so I knew it was something big. I called back and he told me his plane had run out of gas and got struck by lightning. His plane had to make an emergency landing in Phoenix.

Obviously I was concerned for my brother's well being, but I couldn't help but think "Oh, that's why you called." Just as I was thinking this, Danny's voice cut in, "Annnd Zynga just called and offered me the job!" I'm pretty sure the scream I let out after this statement may have punctured my brother's eardrums. I immediately burst into tears (remember when I said I was the dramatic child at the beginning of this post?) and congratulated him over and over again. I could hear the pure joy in my brother's voice.

I started asking him a million and one questions about the position. He told me he most likely would have to work fourteen-hour days to begin with. "I don't mind working that much because I'm going to be waking up and doing what I love every day," he said. I was awed by the power of this statement.

8-year-old Danny's proclamation was no longer just a proclamation. The 21-year-old Danny had made the proclamation a reality.  My brother is a true testament to the fact that good guys do finish first. Also, that dreams do come true when you don't give up and never take no for an answer.

Danny, you amaze me and I cannot wait to see the mark you make on the gaming world. Zynga is lucky to have such a hard worker on their team. Congratulations on this amazing feat! You are my inspiration.

Happy Anniversary, New York!

Crossing the Brooklyn Bridge with Manhattan in the background.

I realize I have been a terrible (I probably should use a stronger word than terrible) blogger. One of my many New Year's resolutions is to get back into blogging. I figured what better time to do so than now, as my one-year anniversary of moving to New York City is approaching on Sunday.

This post will probably be pretty lengthy, as a lot has happened since my last post in April. I apologize in advance. Bear with me!

When people find out that I live in New York, I'm usually greeted with jaws on the ground, followed by a comment similar to: "Oh my gosh, New York?! You are so lucky!" While I am extremely lucky to live in this incredible city and usually have to pinch myself to make sure I'm not dreaming, New York isn't all fun and games. In fact, New York can be pretty harsh and intense at times. My roommate and I like to say that we have a love-hate relationship with the Big Apple. There are times when my head is in the clouds and I want to scream out, "I love you, New York!!" And then there are other times when I just want to walk around with a particular finger high in the air. (Sorry, Mom.)

For a while I had a really hard time connecting with the city and felt like I was on an extended vacation. My “vacation” was filled with unbelievable experiences, such as seeing Lady Gaga perform in her hometown, seeing various Broadway shows (Wicked is incredible), and interacting with some of the most brilliant minds I’ve ever come in contact with.

It truly wasn't until the past couple of months that I really felt at home in the city. In the year I've called New York my home, I’ve had highs and lows, which have helped me learn some valuable lessons along the way.

I feel that there are three main lessons that the Big Apple has schooled me in:

Lesson #1: Quality vs. Quantity

Making friends has never been a challenge for me. I have always been the type of person to have hundreds (okay, maybe not hundreds) of friends in various social circles. In college, I was a member of a sorority comprised of 120+ girls, in addition to having friends all over campus. Let's just say my parents weren't shocked when I told them I wanted to go into the Public Relations field.

New York presented a challenge that I had never experienced before when it came to making friends. I immediately made friends with a group of girls, but I wasn’t satisfied. I wanted more. I found that a lot of women here had their cliques and didn't usually go outside of them. This was extremely hard for me to digest. I joked to my roommate, "So let me get this straight. Not only do I have to struggle to find a boyfriend, but I also have to struggle to find girlfriends?!"

For a while, I looked at what I didn’t have vs. what I DID have. I think this contributed a lot to not feeling a connection to the city in the first couple of months. Once I finally woke up and looked at the quality of friends around me, I realized I didn’t need to have a million and one friends. The girls I had surrounded myself were REAL, quality people and would drop anything for me at a moment’s notice.

New York has helped me understand the whole quality vs. quantity concept. I have found the need to surround myself with a group of people who will pick me up when I fall, who won’t let me be my own worst enemy, who will tell me things that I don’t necessarily want to hear, and then some. What more could I ask for?

Lesson #2: Love Yourself

I experienced love in the Big Apple this past year. The relationship was unconventional and something totally different for me. I became swept away in the excitement of it all, but I lost myself along the way.

I found myself compromising on qualities and issues that I never really had to think about before. At the beginning, I thought I could get over what I had compromised on. Turns out I couldn’t.

I faced a difficult situation: Love for another vs. Love for myself. I wasn’t the same girl who started out in the relationship, which was a difficult realization for me to grasp. I always thought I was strong and that I would never be “that girl.” Yet, I put this person before those that I cared for most, including myself.

Samantha from Sex and the City said, “I'm just going to say the thing you're not supposed to say. I love you, but I love me more.” To tell someone that is heartbreaking, yet empowering. I have struggled for years with the whole “love yourself” concept and I finally had gotten to the point where I realized I loved myself too much to be feeling the way I did. It took me twenty-four years to come to this realization, but better late than never, right?

Lesson #3: Power of Positive Thinking

Although coming to the realization that I loved myself was a huge victory, I was devastated by the demise of my “Big City Love.” I cried harder than I had in a long time and felt a huge hole in my life. I had lost my boyfriend and best friend.

To quote Sex and the City again, “Despite the fact that there are over 8 million people on the island of Manhattan, there are times you still feel shipwrecked and alone. Times even the most resourceful survivor would feel the need to put a message in a bottle or on an answering machine.” I broke down in public and people didn’t even bat an eyelash (not that I wanted them to.) I remember feeling invisible and completely alone, even though I had people all around me. That’s a pretty sobering feeling.

I hate to admit this, but I am a wallower. I love throwing pity parties for myself and I could make a living off of obsessing over petty crap. After a couple of days (and boxes of tissues), I decided I couldn’t keep walking along the path I was going down. I needed to be positive and to throw myself into getting the old Laura back. So, I did just that.

I started doing things that made me happy and feel good about myself, such as going to the gym, having girls’ nights, and writing. Whenever I would get upset over the past, I would call or talk to someone I knew would give me tough love and snap me out of my funk. I wouldn’t allow myself to be my own worst enemy and removed things from my life that would allow me to do so.

I have found that I have applied the positivity principle to my life, besides the above example. To say it is easy to be negative in New York would be an understatement. There are people surrounding you that have everything you don’t have and in some cases, everything you’ll never have. Oh, and don’t forget the beautiful people that seem to pop out at you at every corner.

But here’s what it comes down to: There’s a reason why some of the most powerful and influential companies and CEOs in the world reside in NYC. Minus your friends and family, no one gives a crap if you’re upset. Life will and does go on with or without you. Basically, if you aren’t positive and at peace with yourself, New York will eat you alive.

Summing it up:

I could go on and on about everything I’ve learned in the year I’ve lived in New York City, but I think these three lessons have had the most impact on my life.

I have found a kinship with another Sex and the City quote (last one, I promise.) Carrie Bradshaw said, “If you can only have one great love, then the city just may be mine.” In my mind, love is supposed to teach you new lessons about yourself and how you interact with the world. New York has truly changed me in various ways and has opened my eyes to the world around me. I am challenged every day, which to me makes every day fulfilling. At 24 years-old, that is a pretty fantastic thing to be able to say.

New York, thank you for the most amazing year of my life. I can’t wait to see what the future has in store!