Learning and re-learning how to dance...

I remember the first time I learned to dance. I was about 5 years old and it was a wedding of a close family friend. I just remember how beautiful and pristine the reception hall looked. With ornately decorated tables, and large bouquets of flowers I truly felt like I had walked into the scene of a Cinderella story. Needless to say, it was definitely not a place for me, and my Play-Do encrusted fingers. Yet, I will never forget my dad grabbing my hand and and leaning down to me and saying "Let's dance." He took me out to the dance floor, which seemed so big, and placed me firmly on his feet and swept me around the dance floor as if we were the only people in the room. He showed me how to twirl like a princess, along with which came my massive amounts of giggles.

Yet, it is funny how some things don't change. Fast forward about 20 years and here we are doing the thing that just came natural for us- dancing. Thus you can imagine I love everything about this photo- the lighting, our expressions, and the fact that in this small still frame of time it looks as if we are the only people on the dance floor, perhaps the only people in the room.

Thus this is where my dilemma begins. The last couple months of my life have been nothing but tumultuous, new, and cloaked with grief. Yet, the thing that I struggle with the most is the fact that I feel like I am constantly re-learning how to do the things I once new how to do with ease. You see losing someone that knows you better than you sometimes know yourself leaves you broken and vulnerable. Thus over the last 2 months I have been picking up the pieces of my life and trying to create something that resembles what it once was.

Yet, what I have discovered is that sometimes all the pieces don't fit the way they did before, and your are forced to create more of a mosaic of the person you once were than a replica. You see I don't think I will ever be the same. I will never be able to call my dad at work just for a chat, or call him frantically on the interstate as I question my exit, nor will he grab my hand for just one more dance at a wedding.

Yet, what I have learned through my solitude and pain is that life is worth the dance. That despite everything, I know in my heart that my dad would want me to dance, to love, to feel, and to inspire. While I have never felt so alone, I also have never felt such love. I sometimes wish I could rewind the last 6 months of my life, that I could change the course of events. There are images in my mind that will haunt me for life, and moments that I will treasure forever. The truth is I miss my dad more than you will ever know, but when you are given the chance- you must dance.

A Eulogy for my Father

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When I was little my dad would always take me to New Castle, IN to watch the fireworks on the fourth of July. We would lay our blankets down and get positioned for the fireworks show. I remember one night specifically when we were waiting for the show to start and he looked down at me and said, “Do you see all these people here?" I looked all around and say yes. He then with a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye he said, “Well, they are all here for me, you know, because it’s MY birthday.” I am sure my mouth dropped and my eyes got really big because when you are 5 and your dad tells you something you just believe it. I just remember thinking my dad must be a really important person for all these people to come to his birthday party.

Yet, It wasn’t until years later that I actually realized what a special guy my dad truly was. You see my dad was the life of every party. He is the only man who could make me laugh until I cried. He had a way of telling stories that could make you listen to him for hours. It is honestly hard for me to imagine my dad without a smile on his face. He was someone who always saw the glass half full. My dad would have given anyone the shirt off his back. He loved his family and he adored his friends. He taught me discipline and the rewards of hard work. He had a magnetic personality and a sense of humor that could make any day just a little bit brighter. My dad was my hero.

Yet it’s hard to think of my dad without also thinking of my mom. Rex and Cath were quite a pair, they dotted each others I's and crossed each others t's, and I wouldn’t be the person I am today without them. I think I have always known what a great couple they were-you can’t be married 42 years and not be-but it has been in the last months that I have realized what a special partnership they have. They have been through the stormiest of weather together, the loss of two children, the death of each others parents, but the way my mom has cared for my dad in these last weeks has made me realize what it is to love someone until death do us part.

The relationship between my father and I has always been special, but It has been in the last five years that my dad had become more than just a dad to me - he has become my best friend. There was rarely a day that went by that I didn’t call or talk to my dad. He knew the players in my life, as I knew his. My dad would have done anything for me, and he truly was my biggest fan. Therefore, you can imagine how difficult it was leaving my dad in a hospital bed and moving 2000 miles across the country to begin my surgical residency. I asked him the day I was leaving for Portland “Dad are you sure you want me to leave, and he looked at me and said, "Yes, because I want you to take care of people just like me.” And this just sums up my dad. He was always worried about others more than himself.

My dad has taught me so many lessons about life, but I think the most beautiful lesson and one that will stay with me as long as I live will be the one from the final chapter of his life- because while my dad was dying he has teaching me how to live. My dad has showed me that at the end of the day money and possessions mean nothing, but is the love of those who surround you, the relationships you have built, and memories you have made that matter. I remember we were laying down on the couch one night and I just looked at him and I said, "Dad, I am sorry that this is happening to you,” and he looked at me and said "Jennifer you play the cards you have been dealt.” I think my dad has always lived his life in this manner because he believed “it was not the years in your life, but the life in your years that really mattered."

The last conversation I had with my dad was the night before he died. I told my dad I loved him and he responded I love you. Then I leaned in and whispered “Dad are you scared?” and he opened his eyes and looked at me and said, “What do I have to be scared of.” I just know that my dad is in a better place. As much pain as I feel right now, I know that his pain is no more. I know my dad was very proud of me, as many of you have told me, but I have never been so proud and more priviledged to say that Rex Pasko was my dad.

A Tale of two cities

I have officially been in Portland for week and I couldn't be happier. At one point last week I had to find a packed box marked sweaters and find one of my favorite wool wears to curl up in due to the fall-like temperatures. Yes, I know some of you are gagging, but I am in love with the green, lush wonderland that I have found myself. My hair is jubilant. There is approximately zero humidity here which allows for some very nice frizz- free days. I also love the eclectic mix of the people who reside here, regardless if you are a hipster or a yuppie people are stinkin' happy. Everyone I walk past on the street says hello and smiles. People are emphatic about exercise, bikes, and going green. All things which I embrace. Perhaps one of the highlights of my week was going to brunch at a local establishment called Besaws. They had the most amazing rhubarb reduction champagne cocktail. They were so great I had two. I then had a chance to wander the one and only -Portland Farmer's Market. If you would have seen me I literally look like I a kid in a candy store. The sheer volume of fruits and vegetables that surrounded me was astounding. Yet, they don't just dabble in legumes and baked deliciousness, oh no, they have wine tasting as well.

Yet, as much happiness as I have felt this week the sadness and pain in my heart is hard to forget. As many of you know my father is gravely ill, and is on home hospice back home in Pendleton. I can honestly say one of the hardest things I have ever done is leaving my father in a hospital bed and boarding a plane and moving 2000 miles away. I will never for as long as I live the conversation we had before I left, perhaps not for its brevity, but for its depth. He said he wanted me to the live the life that he had dreamed for me, and by all the power in me I will do my best. You see I have never witnessed something so horrible and awful as my father's disease process. The way it has taken the man who I thought was invincible, and has made him an emaciated skeleton of a man I once knew. Yet, out of all my tears and heartache I have found something that is beautiful. Something that will continue to change and shape the person I am for years to come- Love.

The love that my father and I share is something so indescribable something that surpasses words, that I need say nothing more and I know in my heart -I will always know his love. Yet, perhaps I have been more touched by the love that others have shown my family. The constant flow of people in and out of my home. The friend who dropped everything to come to Oregon and help me move. The friend who drove me to my house to go to the hospital with my dad, while we both cried in silence in the car. The phone calls and texts. The cards and meals that have magically appeared as if a magician had pulled them from a hat. Friends of my dad who spend the night at my house every night so my dad will never be alone. The homemade strawberry ice cream that appeared and filled the antique bowls of my house. This is the love that changes people. The love that fills your soul even when your gas gauge is on empty. This kind of love never fails.

Thus, Charles Dickens was right:" It has been the best of times and the worst of times" While I don't know if I will ever understand the timing or answer to the question why, I do believe that my father continues to teach me an ever important lesson. Life is not a matter of acquiring things, or a score board; life is all about the relationships you build, and the love that surrounds you.

The Oregon Trail

I can remember vividly the first time I was introduced to the East Elementary computer lab. We walked in alphabetically to rows of what looked like TVs with keyboards attached. It was in this room I was introduced to not only the latest technology of the time, a technology that would be ever present in my adult life, but also a little game called "The Oregon Trail." Now as a first grader I was enamored by the capabilities of the computer as it educated me by playing a game based on the trail of Lewis and Clark.

Yet, unfortunately, I rarely was a winner at the game. You see my little family on the computer would always die from famine or drown crossing the river. Much of this was to my own expense since I refused to shoot the buffalo because as I learned earlier in the year they were an endangered species. PETA would have been so proud of the young activist in me. Yet, if you would have told me in first grade that I would someday be making my own trek to Oregon, I would have giggled and called you silly. Yet, in approximately 2 weeks I will be moving to Portland. While it comes with mixed emotion, I am truly jazzed about this new chapter in my life.

Yet, I can't help but be a little nervous as I leave everything I have ever known and move to a foreign place. I am leaving my loving family and friends to start my career. It is like starting from scratch. Yet, after visiting the hospital, walking the city, and meeting the people I believe that this is a place I could be truly happy. Yet, does my stomach do a somersault every time I think about packing up my quiet, comfortable life and moving- Absolutely.

I took a leap of faith, a chance, when I decided to move to Oregon, but I believe life is worth a chance. I don't want to be one of those people who is afraid to sail away from the shore. I want to meet life where it takes me. Now granted you don't have to go halfway across the country, but it applies to small aspects of your life. It is about the guy you asked out because you never thought he would go, the house you decided to buy, or the job you never thought you would get. It is about putting yourself out there, getting hurt, having successes, and experiencing life.

I am sure the Oregon Trail was as daunting to our ancestors as it is to me now. Yet, while they were faced with death daily, terrified of tomorrow, and endured pain, sweat, and tears for nothing more than a dream of a better life. I only hope that my road to Oregon will be less bumpy and dysentery free .

Thus, my hope for you is that you will embrace life and take a chance this week. Don't be afraid to start a new chapter in your life because "It is not the years in your life that matter, but the life in your years."

Sunny- side up

As a child one of my favorite breakfast delicacies my mother made me was 2 eggs with toast and strawberry jam. I can remember vividly sitting at our old kitchen table as my mother would say (as if she didn't know) "How would you like your eggs?" I would giggle and shriek with joy, "Sunny-side up!" I have no idea why I loved my eggs this way, but I think it had to do with my fascination with the runny, gooey yolk invading my toast and everything else on my plate. I loved the yellow hue that reverberated back at me making things a little brighter on my plate. Yet, I also enjoyed the fact that I could design all sorts of animals and other creatures in the yellow lake that had accumulated on my plate. Lastly, it just made me happy because when you are 5 about anything including egg yolk makes you happy.

So why is it so hard for me some 20 years later to find the joy in the littlest of things? Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that the weight of the world on your shoulders has gotten a little bit heavier, or perhaps you have suffered to many low blows, but the optimist in me believes that we still can find joy. It just might take a good game of hide and seek.

I have been blessed with an uncanny and at times obnoxious sunny disposition. Thus, I am rarely seen without a smile on my face. Yet, storms and torrential downpours have not excluded me from their agenda, and thus I am quite a weathered veteran. I love that life doesn't care about your time table or your plans. It is just stinkin' unpredictable. And when you feel like you cannot handle anymore, you feel like your whole being might implode from the inside out; you realize, oh yes you can. On the scale of my horrible weeks, this past week wins by a landslide. So how do we deal with the world when our sunny -side eggs have turned into nothing but a scrambled mess?

I find joy in the beauty of other people and the snapshots of life. You capture moments. If you think about most photos you take they are glimpses of moments where you are innately happy-moments you want to remember. This week, though rough, has had some glowing moments. I will never forget watching movies with my dad on the couch while we shared oatmeal cookies. I will always remember the quiet distraction of others the way they can make you forget about everything else that is going on except the present. I will never forget the jam session in my car with a friend as we sang at the top of our lungs while passerby's just looked and stared. These are the moments that I treasure. The moments you least expect to find joy, yet it somehow reveals itself. While my life this week has at time felt suffocating and dark, I am pleased to report that despite my sadness sunshine has crept in and left me with nothing but the hope for another day- sunny of course.

Royally Ready....

In approximately 5 hrs I will be getting up in my pajamas with mimosa in hand to sit in front of my television and watch dreams come true. That is right, I said dreams come true. You see tomorrow is so much more than a Royal Wedding, it is a lesson for every young girl out there- that anything is possible. As children we grow up dreaming about being princesses, we dress up like them, and strut our stuff around the house like them. We believe that maybe, just maybe, this could be us too someday. Yet, Kate Middleton wasn't born to royalty, she was born a commoner, just like an other child growing up in the UK. I am sure as a child she too pretended that she was the Queen of England, yet never believing she had a shot at the real title. Thus if I had children (which is a terrifying thought) I would wake them up from their sleeping slumber, give them a bowl of cereal, and place them in front of the TV so they could watch history in the making. You know many of you will disagree with me and find this ridiculous, but I think it shows both girls and women alike that dreams do come true. Now don't get me wrong I am not the sort of woman who enforces nor endorses the prince galloping in on a white horse coming to rescue the princess from her life as a commoner because as a liberal woman you should know how I feel about women's equality in the 21st century.

Yet, I too know what it is like to wish and hope for something thinking maybe, just maybe that it will come true. You see tomorrow is my last day of medical school. If you could only know the very convoluted and tortuous road I took to get there you would understand how important I think it is for little girls to know that dreams do come true.

Ever since I was approximately 6 years old all I ever wanted to do was go to medical school. I was a driven, motivated, and I felt a force larger than me drawing me to the field. Yet, I cannot even begin to describe the devastation and pain I felt when I was rejected from medical school. I literally thought I was going to die. I cried so many tears that year I don't even know how I can still cry to this day. So I began working at a hospital as a nurses aide, wiping rear ends, giving baths, and taking vital signs. I was also taking grad school classes on my days off to keep up on my studies, and worked as a hostess at a local steak house in the evenings.

Yet, I will never forget the day that I received my acceptance letter in the mail. I literally began sobbing uncontrollably, my body was vehemently shaking, and I had to sit down just to breathe. This was the moment that I realized what it felt like for dreams to come true. It was life changing, not only because I had waited for this day my entire life, but because of the journey I had to take to get there.

Thus, Both Kate and I will share something very special tomorrow. While I will complete my medical school career and she will become a princess, we both in our hearts will relish in the fact that anything is possible, even your wildest dreams.

Drowning

February was a fiasco. It was like the time I went to Venice and it rained the entire time I was there. I actually thought that I might die due to drowning because of all the water. I am the sort of person who believes that things happen for a reason, and that we are only given as much as we can handle. Yet, last month was truly unbearable. I felt as if my life was a rollacoaster of emotional highs and lows, and worst of all it only left me with feelings of trepidation. It was as if someone had put me in the middle of the ocean and told me, the girl who can't swim, to find my way back to shore. I was tired of swimming, tired of trying to keeping afloat, and what I really needed was a buoy, a life jacket, or some strong handsome coastguard to come save me.

Yet, I think part of life is discovering how we respond to these types of situations. I have asked myself several times over the last month Why me? Why my family? Why now? I have come to grips with the fact that the struggles we endure through this life are the moments that define us. I have been gasping for air, struggling with the waves of life for the last couple of months and right when I thought I might sink down to the depths of despair, my friends jumped in and saved me.

I am the sort of person who never wants to be a burden to anyone. A person who entered a profession to help others, not to have someone help me. Yet, this past month I have learned the beauty and grace of friendship.

It was mid February and the worst day I had had all month. I was on a service at the hospital where the attendings hated me, I had just learned my father's cancer had progressed, and my mother informed me she needed to go back for further testing of a suspicious lesion in her breast. There is no other feeling to describe how I was feeling at this moment but numb. Scared, cold, and alone I just ended up calling one of my very best friends and crying in my car after work on the phone with her. I didn't really say anything comprehensible, I just cried. I just remember when I got home I heard a knock on the door. When I went to open it up there she was standing with her gorgeous smile and a beautiful orchid in her hands extending it to me. I remember I just hugged her and cried not only because of the nice gesture, but also because I knew I didn't have to be afraid of being alone. I learned that no matter how awful or terrible the month could be I had people around me who wanted to make it better. People who cared about me.

Perhaps this is why I like spring, because even though you feel like the earth is saturated with water and that the earth is drowning somehow the green grass sprouts up and the flowers bloom. I believe that we all have stormy seasons in life. Times when you literally need a boat to get out of the stormy weather, or a shelter to take cover. This past month my friends have truly been lifesavers they have carried me through some of the worst weather of my life and I am forever grateful.

The ebb and flow of life is unavoidable. It hits us when we least expect it. Yet, you just have to have faith that it will cease that the storm will stop. When it does you are left with the aftermath, a garden of blooming flowers.