Category: Family (Page 22 of 27)

Making Connections

October 4, 2011 / Katie L. Carroll

When I was a freshman in high school, my older sisters’ best friend was the captain of my soccer team. She was kind enough to drive me to school, let me hang out with her in between school and practice, and drive me home from practice.

One day before practice we were driving around with some of our teammates and decided that we wanted to “make an entrance” as we drove down the small road that led to the field. We flipped through the radio, hoping to find either a rap song with a solid beat or a hard-hitting rock song to blast. The radio failed us.

So we went the complete opposite of what we had planned and blasted the lamest song we could find: Celine Dion’s It’s All Coming Back to Me Now. Let me tell you, we rocked that song like it’s never been rocked before! And we made a hell of an entrance! Even though I couldn’t stand that song before we rocked it out, I now listen to it fondly all these years later.

Then there was the time my sisters (all three of them) and I were at a wedding and Lady Marmalade (the Pink, Aguilera, Mya, and Lil’ Kim version) came on. The four of us danced and lip-synced to that song like we were shooting a music video for it. I had thought that song was pretty good, but now I love it and always listen to it with a bittersweet mixture of pure joy and pure sadness (since one of my sisters died not too long after that occasion).

The point of all this reminiscing (contrary to what it may seem, I try to have a point to all my posts…even when the point is somewhat pointless). I consider myself something of a free-thinker. I’m often stubborn (a trait it seems The Boy has inherited) and don’t like to think I’m easily swayed by others opinions. Not that I’m totally inflexible. On the rare occasion someone backs up their point with solid reasoning and proves me wrong, I’ll totally give them props for it.

Yet, when it comes to sharing moments with people and music (as is often the case) or a movie served as a catalyst to that moment, my opinions are easily changed. That song that I hated, but my hubby loved became a cherished song for both of us when we listened to it in the car together during a vacation. That TV show that always used to make me roll my eyes because it was just so dumb became one I faithfully watched with my dad and brother because we just had so much fun mocking it. And you know what, I truly ended up liking it by the time the series was over.

There’s the flip side of this too. Did you ever really like something and you mentioned it to someone and they were like, “Oh, I hated that. It was so stupid”? And then the magic of that thing was gone for you too.

I think what it comes down to is connections (and isn’t that what so many things come down to?). If you can make a connection over something, that thing becomes more special, but if that thing is a source of a disconnect, then it loses its charm. I guess I’m not as badass stubborn as I thought I was after all!

A Beautiful Life Is Born

September 19, 2011 / Katie L. Carroll

I believe I tempted fate with my last post because The Boy decided to make his appearance right in the middle of the hurricane! He was 17 days early (still full term, but his nursery wasn’t quite ready for him!) and mommy and baby are happy and healthy. (And, no, if The Boy had turned out to be The Girl, we would not have named her Irene!)

What I learned during the whole labor and delivery process (don’t worry, no gory details) is that it’s great to have a plan, but expect that plan to be thrown out the window (and whisked away by hurricane-force winds). My doctor was on vacation (of course) and so the on-call doctor (who I had never met) was there for the delivery. She was perfectly competent and an experienced doctor, but let me just say that I wasn’t used to her brand of bedside manner. It wasn’t that she was necessarily rude or mean or uncaring, she was just a bit odd.

Case in point, the doc and her husband has purchased property a few blocks from us. We noticed this piece of land because what had been a tiny old, dilapidated house surrounded by overgrown plants was very quickly transformed into a huge, gorgeous house with a manicured lawn and nice cars in the driveway. It came as no surprise that a doctor had bought it. When we first learned she was the on-call doctor, my husband recognized the name from the property transaction in the local newspaper.

During the early part of my labor (when I was still coherent and interested in engaging in small talk), the doc mentioned that she was in the hurricane evacuation zone, but that her husband was going to stay in the house with the dog. I was like, “Oh, yeah. You live not that far from us.” Then I went on to compliment her on her nice new home.

Big mistake! I realized it was kind of weird that I knew where she lived and quickly explained that we had noticed how quickly the house had been built and saw the property transfer in the paper. The doc was like, “It bothers me that anyone can see how much I was taken for a property by the water.” The she went on a bit of rant about how a suspicious car was driving up and down her street recently and she didn’t understand why she couldn’t find out who it belonged to by looking up the license plate but it’s posted in the paper how much properties go for.

It seemed like a weird time to vent about such a trivial thing (given that I was in labor 2 1/2 weeks early in the middle of a hurricane) and I wasn’t really in the mood to debate what goes into public records and why. Yet she kind of has a point. I don’t necessarily care that property transactions are listed in the local paper, but I do think that certain things should be kept private. Hence why I’m not posting The Boy’s name or a picture of him on my blog. There’s no way for me to control who sees it and I’m not interested in blindly pasting my precious baby’s information for any old pervert to see it.

But it I know you and you’d like to see a picture of him (and haven’t already), I’d be more than pleased to brag about my perfect little guy. Just let me know!

A Lonely Anniversary

April 16, 2011 / Katie L. Carroll

Another year has passed since I last marked the anniversary of my sister’s death. Recently I was feeling very lonely and I couldn’t quite figure out why. I have a lot of people in my life who love and care about me, but there was an emptiness inside of me that wouldn’t go away.

Then I realized I missed my little sister. I wanted to talk with her, but she wasn’t there to answer back. And, no matter how many friends or loves I have in my life, no one on this earth will ever be the sister or the friend she was to me.

Kylene was only here for 16 years, but she filled those years with so much life. She wrote the poem below, and though the sentiment is beautifully written, I don’t think it is a true reflection of who she was. She may never have graduated high school, gotten married, or had any children, but there wasn’t a wasted moment of her life here on earth.

Wasting my time
Killing my time
living this life like I should
Not like I could

I learned from a book
I learned from a teacher
but what about life
What about the Experience

I’m sitting inside
going through the motions
While life turns outside
passing me by

Tomorrow’s but today
Just like any other day
I throw my life away
It slips down the drain

~Kylene Laraine Carroll

The Possibilities of Dreams

February 28, 2011 / Katie L. Carroll

Dreams—both sleeping and waking—are funny things. I’ve always been a very vivid sleep dreamer. As a young child, I had a reoccurring nightmare that I was being chased by wolves. Eventually those nightmares gave way to ones in which I was stalked by dinosaurs. Then I had a period in which most of my nightmares were end-of-the-world scenarios.Most recently I’ve been having dreams in which I am running late for some type of engagement (sometimes I’ve reverted back to my school days, other times I’m late for work) and I just can’t seem to get where I need to go. These don’t invoke the same fear as my wolf, dinosaur, or apocalyptic dreams, but a great deal of anxiety goes along with them.

I think these reoccurring dreams are a manifestation of anxieties or fears I am having in real life. The real-life fears have nothing to do with wolves or the end of the world, but this is how my brain interprets the fears and anxieties of my waking life in the dream world.

The nightmares, though, aren’t the hardest dreams. I wake up from nightmare with my heart racing and my body chilled from a cold sweat, but pretty soon I realize It was all just a dream. The hardest dreams are the ones about my dead little sister, Kylene (and forgive me here for displaying a little emotion…something I hate to do in any kind of public forum).

It’s not that these are scary dreams in which she’s coming back from the dead to haunt me or anything. No, they’re usually quite pleasant. Often we’re kids again, but sometimes I’m an adult (she was 16 when she died, so she is never really older than that in my dreams). We may be off on some adventure, but often we’re just hanging out.

(Here I am reading to Kylene when we were kids…I know, my hair is terrible and she’s cute as a button!)

While I’m having these dreams, there’s always that little something niggling me in the back of my mind. That voice that’s saying Something isn’t right here. You know when you’re dreaming and you’re in a place you know in real life, like your house, but it doesn’t look like your real-life house, yet somehow you just know that it is your house. That’s the feeling I’m talking about.

Sometimes the revelation of what’s wrong comes to me while I’m dreaming, but the full meaning of it doesn’t hit me until I’m awake. And that something is that my sister is dead, and even if the dream felt completely real to me, I know it wasn’t because people don’t come back from the dead.

And that’s the hard part of these dreams: that moment when I realize It was all just a dream, that my sister really is dead, and she’s never coming back. For a split second, the raw emotions are all too real and even though it’s been almost nine years since she died, I feel like it’s only been minutes and I’m losing her all over again.

But it isn’t all bad because maybe sleep is a place where you can bridge the gap between life and death. Maybe she can come back to life, even if it’s only for a little while in my subconscious. Or maybe she really is coming to visit me in some spiritual form (a little far-fetched for my logical mind, but I suppose it’s possible). And you know what? Even if it was just a dream, I got to see my sister again and that’s worth all the pain of remembering she’s gone.

That’s the beauty of dreams: they open up a world of possibilities. Like black holes, we don’t know all that much about them. They’re one of life’s great mysteries. And I think that these dreams we have in sleep help fuel our dreams in life. I dream in sleep and I feel my sister is alive again. And I dream in the waking world to become a published writer, so that my sister can live again in a fictional world.
But waking dreams are a discussion for another post. What have you been dreaming of lately?

The Sweet Tradition of Christmas Cookies

December 27, 2010 / Katie L. Carroll

It just wouldn’t have been a complete Christmas without making cookies with the nephews and niece. I love to see the creativity come out of each of them in different ways.

(This is just a sampling of the cookies we made. I don’t think any of them are mine. I played around with different combinations of black and white frosting this year.)

My 11-year-old nephew is my writing buddy. We pack up our laptops and head out to the local cafe or Barnes & Noble and work on our projects (and eat too). He has a fast mind that’s always churning away, so he works feverishly on projects (and sometimes has trouble finishing them). He has always liked to draw figures, from baseball players to super-heroes, so it was no surprise that he turned some of the cookies into his favorite music artists.

My 5-year-old niece is a girl’s girl. She loves princesses, her favorite colors are pink and purple, and she often compliments me on a cute shirt or accessory. She is also very creative and passionate in her pursuits, especially drawing and coloring. She was the last kid standing when it came to decorating.

My 4-year-old nephew is what I like to call mechanically creative. He’s a very literal little boy, who watches and explores how things move and work. He is also super sweet and indulges his auntie when she asks for a little “sugar” (hug and kisses) or to eat his cheeks, which have the cutest dimples. He tends to be very methodical with his creations.

(From left to right: we have Squidword as made by my little nephew, a trendy snow lady complete with rosy cheeks courtesy of my niece, and Michael Jackson as envisioned by my older nephew.)

Naturally I forgot to bring my camera this year, so thanks to my mom (and here is where my brother would say, “Thanks to your mom!”) for the pictures. What are your favorite traditions?