Carl & Arielle; A Love Story

Usually I don't hear anything about Arielle's boyfriends until A. they are no longer in the picture, in which case it's a moot point or B. she's fallen head over heels for them and it's too late for me to change her mind should I want to.

With Carl it was different. I heard about Carl almost right away and although I didn't get to meet him for quite some time (because I was still living in Florida) I heard a lot about him.

Here's how one of our first conversations went; "Hi Mom, I met this guy... His name is Carl and he's tall and really handsome. He has beautiful blue eyes. He's had cancer and he's smart and funny and..." I interrupted her, "I'm sorry Arielle, what was that last one?" "He's funny, she says? "No not that one." "Oh," she says, "He's had cancer?" "Ummmm, Yeah.... that one!

Now I've had my run in's with cancer and from my experience, it's not something you ever want to mess with if you have a choice. In fact, if you have a choice you really should run like hell! However, because the "apple doesn't fall too far from the tree" and Arielle can be as stubborn and as hard headed as her Mom, she was not going to let a little thing like cancer stand in her way. No way. She liked this "Carl" guy and it was on... cancer better step back.

During the first few months cancer behaved itself and took a back seat to this new forming love. I heard more and more about Carl and it sounded to me like this was getting serious. I understood why, he was handsome and he did have beautiful blue eyes and who knows maybe, just maybe this was meant to be.

Unfortunately, cancer got bored with talking the back seat, and in just a few months it reared it's ugly head and came back with a vengeance.

Carl and Arielle took the news in stride... not a lot or fuss or bother. They were just two young people, in love, just starting out and yes ok... they just happen to be dealing with cancer.

Promises and plans were made, dreams were shared and in between chemo therapy appointments, their life together was being mapped out.

The next few months were void of any good news, things got worse. Hope seemed to be running out, but they both carried on. One just as as strong as the other. Life threw them lemons, they made lemonade; life put up roadblocks, they found detours. It was as if they were growing closer and moving forward together as a couple in spite of this cancer.

Weeks went by and the situation became more serious and no matter how much in love they were, how young, how determined how much they fought it... in the end at 4:06AM on December 23 Carl (and Arielle) lost their battle with cancer.

It was the most difficult thing I have ever witnessed... watching my child, my baby, deal with such an enormous loss and such unbearable pain. There wasn't and still isn't a thing I can do to make it better.

Yes, this was a sad story about young love, loss, life lessons and a mother's perspective of the pain her youngest daughter has had to experience at a very young age.

I hope and pray that I never ever have to write this story again.

A rock by any other name....

Anyone who's been to my house has seen for themselves that I have a... well let's just say I have more than a fondness for rocks. Yup, rocks!

Small, medium, large. Light, dark, speckled. Smooth, bumpy, flat. I have an unexplainable, perhaps somewhat abnormal fascination with rocks.

You can imagine my delight when we moved to Brighton, England where I discovered the entire beach, as far as the eye can see, is covered with nothing but "rocks." It is the most amazing thing I have ever seen. Especially for me, coming from Florida where the beaches are covered with fine, white, hot, pristine sand, this is totally cool, if not a little weird!

So the way it happens is, I just walk down the beach, on any given day and rocks (the special rocks) just jump out at me, begging to be taken home! I swear they do! They call out to me, making it impossible for me to ignore them. I am obliged to stop, pick them up and take them home.

We might be on our way to lunch or maybe the movies, but if our route takes us by the sea, you can be sure I will have a pocket full (well at least 1 or 2) by the time we reach our destination.

I have rescued rocks from all over the world; the UK, Italy, France, Germany, Switzerland, Sedona, Key West Key West, Pensacola, Seattle and so on, and so on, and so on.

The rock in the photo below took me a little bit by surprise, but it came home with me anyway! What does it look like to you?

So the next time you accidently kick a rock, stumble across a rock, have a particular rock "catch your eye," take the "hint." It may be speaking to you... calling your name... looking for a new home.

Praise Without Joy?

Did I mention we went to Christmas Eve Midnight Mass at Winchester Cathedral?

It is an amazingly complex structure with stained glass windows, beautiful sculptures, large intricate archways, upon archways upon archways... it's magnificent, really!

So you can imagine how disappointed I was to find Christmas Eve, mid-night mass totally and absolutely void of any emotion, joy or spirit!

There were hundreds of people out at 11:30 PM to praise their Lord and give thanks for everything they have in their lives... but the space was empty.

We sat on the side, looking in towards the center pews and I watched the congregation stare blankly at the Vicar delivering the sermon. Their eyes dead and faces blank of any emotion. They dutifully repeated and responded appropriately to his words (which even he didn't seem to be to excited about!) "Peace be with you," he would say, "...and also with you," was the robotic, monotone response.

The choir sang angelically. Their amazing voices reverberated through the archways like the sweet smell of the incense, but still the congregation was not moved. They sat, staring blankly at the alter.

I closed my eyes and tried really hard to feel "it." You know, that sense of joy, peace, well being. I just wanted on this holy night to feel "Christmas," but nothing.

The next day, wandering around the town, in the early hours when most everyone was still at home, we came across The Church of St Swithin Upon Kingsgate. A very small unassuming structure that could have easily been missed if one had blinked!

We walked up a short, narrow flight of old wooden stairs and pulled open a door (which weighed a ton) and stepped into a small, simple, empty space that immediately demanded our full attention.

It was nothing more than white plaster walls, simple wooden pews, two stained glass windows at either end of the room and some beautiful rustic wooden beams in the ceiling.... but this room was filled with history, peace, joy and yes the holy spirit was present! I had found "Christmas."

You could sense the joy, sorrow, praise and doubt. You could almost see the weddings, funerals, baptisms and feel the emotions of the hundreds of people people who have passed through those doors in the last 750. If that room could talk.

We stayed for many minutes, not talking, not moving... just looking and listening to the quiet and feeling the peace within the room. We took a few photos and left, leaving a generous donation so that they can hopefully keep this wonderful joyous place open to the public!

I know it's after the fact but "Merry Christmas" I pray that you find the joy and peace of "Christmas" throughout the new year!