28

Friday marked my 28th birthday. Although 28 isn't a traditionally momentous birthday, I thought I'd take some time to reflect on where I've been, where I'm at, and where I'm going.

I blog a lot about my father and from anyone who knows me, that's no surprise, because I talk about him a lot too. Last year, my father passed less than a month before my 27th birthday. I was so consumed in the planning and arranging that his passing entailed, I'm not sure it really felt like he was gone when my birthday came around. I think I was still in shock, I still felt like he was on some lengthy business trip and would be calling to wish me a Happy Birthday any minute.

So when my birthday rolled around this past Friday, it was a very emotionally-fueled day for me. It felt like the first birthday my Dad had missed and his absence felt like the weight of a ton of bricks. Everything set me off, I spent a good chunk of my day in tears. It almost felt like I was watching myself from the outside, wondering, why on Earth I was so upset. I was an emotional runaway train and not much could stop it. After talking with my mom later in the day, I realized what my problem was - I missed my Dad and everything he did to make me feel special. I missed all the "little things." I'm not sure I will ever not miss the little things . . . but I hope to one day smile because they happened, instead of crying because they're gone. Until then, as they say, it's my party and I'll cry if I want to!

Someone, probably my brother, reminded me that only 20 percent of my twenties now remain. That's kind of scary. Look, I'll be the first person to admit, 28 is not old, but it's not young either. With 30 just two years away, I think my goal this year is to take stock of what I've accomplished and what I have left to do, so I don't end up missing out on what I'm really after.

If you asked me ten years ago, where I thought I'd be today, I'm not entirely sure I would have had a great answer. A few things I am sure of though . . . I definitely thought I'd be married with a child by 30. I walked into college expecting I'd meet my future husband and then get married shortly after graduation. Clearly that was not in the cards for me. Some days I'm totally okay with that - I know I'm definitely not ready to have children - and I know being single has afforded me some great opportunities. I often think, if I had been married young, I wouldn't have had the opportunity to spend so much time with my parents as an adult. I spent a lot of weekends with my parents, vacationed with them, volunteered with them. I had the unique opportunity to spend such quality time with my Dad before he passed, that had I been married with my own family, I'm not sure I would have been so lucky.

As "okay" as I am with being single, at the same time, it's a lonely proposition. As more and more of my friends end up in relationships, engaged, and married, sometimes I do wonder, "What is wrong with me?" It's also become a bit of a chore to continually answer the lengthy questioning of family and friends, "Are you seeing anyone?" "Why not?" "Have you tried online dating?" No, if I knew I wouldn't be single, and not interested. And yes, I know the line, "A watched pot never boils." I know I can't worry about it, but sometimes it's not that easy. I suppose what I really need to do first, is to learn to love myself, so I can be more open to others . . .which leads me to this next revelation . . .

Body image has been a real issue for me over the years. If people could hear how I talk to myself about how I look, they'd probably be appalled. I think as a kid, I always assumed I'd get to a point where I was happy and comfortable with my body, but sadly, at 28, I'm still struggling. It amazes me how much a number on the scale can throw off my entire day, how compulsive I am about weighing myself, and how much I beat myself up about what, when, or how much I eat. I see a totally different person staring back at me in the mirror - she's fat, ugly, has huge arms, massive shoulders, it's really terrible. No matter how much I work out, no matter how far I can run, how much I can lift, or how athletic I might be, I still see a fat girl in the mirror. This could be an entire blog post in itself and it probably will be at some point, but suffice it to say, that my goal as I round out my twenties is to reach a place of acceptability when it comes to my body. I want to appreciate my body for all it can do instead of continually pointing out the negatives. I want to feel comfortable in who I am, regardless of what I weigh or don't weigh.

But, instead of lamenting on all the things I haven't accomplished yet...what are some things I have?

Well, I've been blessed to finally have an incredibly supportive and caring group of friends. I may not be the most popular person in the world, but I do have people I trust and can count on. People who love me regardless of what mood I might be in or how stressed out I can be. People who accept my flaws and encourage me on a regular basis. My dad always said, "You can count your real friends on one hand, " and as I've gotten older, I've come to realize how true that really is.

I have had the opportunity at 28 to travel the world. I've had the chance to see some amazing places, frame some beautiful photos, and share my travels with friends and family. I've seen more of the world in 28 years, than some people see their entire lives. For that I am truly blessed and grateful.

I've done well in school, completed my master's and been pretty successful in my career. I've had amazing career opportunities and there's more to come. I'm not sure what company I would have said I'd be working for if you asked me ten years ago, but I am very glad to be working for the one I do. I'm also really glad I figured out pretty quickly that living the life of Carrie Bradshaw was not for me. I've always done what has felt right and its paid off every time. I'm thankful for that. I've never shied away from an opportunity (which isn't to say I haven't needed a little push here and there) and have always been willing to try something new. It's made me a bit of a wanderer (which I also get from my father), but it's also made for a really exciting and interesting life.

I have a wonderful family - not many people can say their parents are their best friends, but I am blessed to say just that. I have hobbies and interests that keep me motivated (whether that's crossfit or running races or movies or the beach). I find time to give back and volunteer, which has helped immensely this past year.

So, at 28, things aren't perfect. They are far from it. I have bills, fights with family or friends, a sick puppy from time to time, so much stress I feel like my head might explode, and days where I am so overcome with grief about my Dad, all I can do is cry. But, I'm here. I'm still putting one foot in front of the other and trying to make a difference in this life.

I'm still a work in progress, but at the end of the day, life is good and I'm going to spend the next two years, trying to make it even better, before I hit the next birthday milestone. Thanks for joining me on the ride.

Carry On

As March 14th creeps closer and closer, I thought I would reflect on the past year and what it's been like going through this life without my father.

It feels like this past year went by in the blink of an eye - faster than it normally feels. And without question, my father's absence was felt at every turn. I can't tell you how many times I wanted to pick up the phone and and call him. It was second nature sometimes. In fact, although his cell phone has been shut off, I still have "Dad Cell" listed in my favorites and I just can't bring myself to delete his number. I've kept about a dozen voicemails from him on my phone, which he left me over the year before he passed. I still find tears welling in my eyes when I listen to them, although I think I've come to appreciate them a little differently now and sometimes find myself smiling.

I often think about how he would react to certain news or circumstances, what he would say, or how he might go about something. When I was chosen to participate in an elite leadership development program at work, all I wanted to do was call my dad and tell him the news. I could hear his response, I knew exactly what he would say. And he'd have this indelible way of letting you know how proud he was of you. He'd tell all his friends what an accomplishment it was and before I could tell anyone myself, our entire extended network of family and friends would already know. Every child should have the opportunity to feel that loved and to know someone is that proud of you. My dad did that for me, every day of my life.

Father's Day was difficult this year. I felt so out of place as I read all the various well wishes my friends posted for their own fathers. I avoided the Father section in Hallmark like the plague. In fact, I had to purchase a birthday card around Father's Day and I had to leave the store, because it was too much for me to watch others search for cards.

Church is also difficult for me, even now. For some reason, when I do make it to church, I can't seem to get through the service without tears. I know it's connected to my father, I just don't know why. I think the constant messages of hope, love, and Heaven, just make me miss him that much more.

While the nights where I cried myself to sleep are fewer and far between these days, the pain is still so real. I often find myself listening to a certain song on the radio or watching a particular scene in a movie and feeling the tears rush down my face. I still wince when I hear talk of fathers and weddings - I'm not sure that particular pain will ever go away.

It's funny, through this process, I have learned so much about myself, about grief, about other people. There are mountains of books available for people who have lost someone to dissect their grief, to learn how to process grief, and to eventually "move on." In many ways I'm almost compelled to write a book for other people to learn how to care for someone who is grieving, because I have to tell you, that is one skill a majority of people lack.

I think grief and loss is generally awkward for those who have never really experienced it. Society as a whole seems to think you should be "back to normal" in a matter of weeks, but I  question whether "going back to normal," is really ever possible - especially for someone like me who was so completely connected with the person who is lost. While I have met some incredibly compassionate and loving people through this process, at the same time, I've been completely baffled by others. I've heard things like, "I know exactly how you feel, but instead of listening to you, let me just tell you how I feel instead," (a piece of advice, you never really know how someone feels, ever.) to, "You just have to get over it," to nothing at all. The most deafening noise you can ever hear when you're grieving, is that of silence from people you thought cared . . . but that is a post for another time.

Although there are certainly tough days, I do think I'm handling things better than I expected I would. Relocating to be closer to family and friends has been a tremendous blessing - just not being alone is so comforting.

I've also done my best to keep my father's memory alive at every turn. I try to recognize every major event he might have missed, like his birthday or Father's Day. And the scholarship has been a real dedication - we'll host our first fundraiser event on April 5 - an Easter Fest for children in my parents' town, an event I know my Dad would have loved.

As March 14th approaches, I keep asking myself how I want to mark the day. I can't let it go without addressing it somehow - it's a day that will forever mean so much to me and to do nothing would seem so callous. While I plan to visit my father's grave and buy a lottery ticket (since he was adamant, that you can't win if you don't play!), I've also decided, perhaps the best way to acknowledge the day is to go about some random acts of kindness, in honor of my father, who was always so passionate about helping others.

If you're reading this and have the time, perhaps you might want to take part in some random acts of kindness on March 14th - whether it's buying coffee for the person behind you in line, baking cookies for a neighbor, or sending a card to a friend to let them know you care. Whatever it is, I encourage you, in the spirit of love and hope, to honor my father by doing something special for someone else, regardless of how big or small it may be . . . for some reason, I think that would mean so much to my Dad. To know because of him, others are doing good. His personal motto after all was, "Remember, each one of us can make a difference every day."

As the first year without my dad comes to a close, I won't lie. I miss him more now, than I ever have. And I sincerely do not believe it ever gets easier, dealing with the loss. But I do find myself smiling more and laughing more when I think about
memories we made together.

It's a tough world for a Daddy's girl without her Dad . . . but I'm confident he's still with me - I see the signs. And I know I will see him again. Until then, all I can do is continue to walk in his footsteps and make him as proud as possible, just from a different vantage point.

Make a difference people.

Happy Birthday Daddy

Today, January 10, would have been my father's 77th birthday.

While we can no longer celebrate with him here on Earth, our family thought what better way to celebrate his memory by letting you all know that together with the Bear Creek/Buck Township Lion's Club, we have established the Theodore D. Carl Memorial Scholarship. 

The scholarship, which will award one high school senior each year, is our way of continuing to keep our father's memory alive while promoting the values in which he so strongly believed in, education being paramount.

We will spend the majority of 2014 raising funds to support this scholarship. Our goal is to give a substantial financial award each year . . . and of course, this is where you all come in.

On February 16, 2014, my brother Ted and I will run in the Lost Dutchman Half Marathon and 8K race in memory of our father, in an effort to begin raising funds for the scholarship. Dad had planned to watch me run the half marathon this year, had he been able to.

If you had the honor of knowing our father, you know he believed deeply in being honest, giving back to others, and always striving to make a difference. Even if you didn't know him, I am sure you can appreciate these tremendous values. Where others might talk the talk and say they believe in these principles, our father walked the walk every single day of his life and we hope to honor him, by helping students pay for their college educations.

We would be so appreciative if you could support my brother and me in our efforts to begin raising funds for the scholarship.

At this time, you can do so through the following ways:

1. You can write a check to the "Bear Creek/Buck Township Lions Club" and hand that check to my brother or me, or mail the check directly to the club at:

Theodore D. Carl Memorial Scholarship Fund
C/O Bear Creek/Buck Township Lions Club
P.O. Box 107
Bear Creek, PA 18602
*This form of donation is tax deductible. Please be sure to write "T. Carl Scholarship Fund" in the memo line.

2. You can send a payment directly to me via paypal. My paypal ID is: amcarl@udel.edu

3. If you're super fancy and use venmo, you can venmo the donation directly to me as well by adding me as your friend on venmo and making a payment. Please be sure to write, "T.Carl Scholarship Fund" in the message section.

On behalf of our entire family, we thank you for helping to support this scholarship fund and in turn, keeping our father's memory alive. Men like him only come around once in a lifetime and we were so blessed to have had the honor of having him in our lives.

Please stay tuned for more news and updates on the scholarship, including an Easter-focused fundraising event in April and a poker tournament this Summer. And of course, please feel free to share the news with your social networks - every penny counts.

Remember, each one of us can make a difference, every day.

Sincerely,

The Carl Family

More than a dog

As I write this post, I keep thinking this isn't real . . .  but sadly my nine month old puppy Finnegan was struck by a car on Monday and passed away in my mother's arms on the way to the vet. I'm not entirely sure how it happened, let alone why, but what I do know is that I'm crushed.

I brought Finn into my life two weeks after my father passed. I had wanted a dog of my own for years and it seemed like the right time to help take my mind off of such a devastating loss. And what a character Finn was. I won't lie, the first few months were tough, as we navigated through the puppy stages. But as Finn grew, he became such a wonderful dog and it just doesn't seem fair how tragically he was taken from us.

I look at pictures I've taken over the past few months of Finn (and trust me there were a lot) and I just cannot believe he is no longer here. It feels like I've been punched in my stomach. He had a unique personality, a very talkative, funny dog. He loved to sleep like a person in bed and wake you up with his big eyes, sweet kisses and quiet whines. He was becoming quite the runner too, finally taking to the leash really well. He was my dog...attached at the hip...and I loved him. I couldn't take him anywhere without someone saying he was the "most beautiful dog I've ever seen." I could see the future ahead of us....Finn coming for rides with me in my car, lots of runs at the park, growing old and becoming calm and quiet...I guess it just wasn't mean to be.

I know people keep telling me, "he's with your dad now," and while I guess
that's supposed to comfort me, sadly it doesn't. The whole point of having Finn was so he'd be with me, since my Dad no longer was. I feel cheated really . . . no dog deserves what happened to Finn, let alone one so young.

I have experienced a massive amount of loss this year. I'm baffled how I even have tears left to cry. In the end I guess I'm just glad I had Finn for the time I did...he was a bright spot in an otherwise dark year.

Rest well my sweet, sweet Finny boy.

Where did Summer go?

Somehow it's the end of July (which was when I was planning on posting this...but now it's August). I'm not really sure where this summer went . . . but given how hot and humid it's been, I won't lie, I'm ready for fall weather.

Obviously I failed in my attempt to update my blog every day I was in Europe. It was a valiant effort though. Between the time difference and long days, by the time I got back to my hotel, I was exhausted. I did manage to catch up on Dexter though, so I feel somewhat accomplished. With that said, here are a few photos from the trip:



























Looks like my next big trip will be Belize in March with my best friend, CS. Every other year, we try to pick a new place to explore and from the photos I have seen, Belize will not disappoint.

 Otherwise, a few highlights from my summer:

1. Sadly, Uncle Luke passed away. Aunt Judy had called me while I was in France and we spoke about his condition. I was hoping to have the opportunity to say goodbye, but it wasn't in the cards. I can only hope he knew how much he meant to me. I attended his internment last week, which ended up being very difficult for me. It really opened my eyes to how raw the wounds still are from my Dad's passing. Uncle Luke's memorial service was yesterday. I'm sure he and Dad are laughing and telling stories together in Heaven.

2. I was finally able to get together with my good friend CG. We went to Avalon a few weeks ago and lucked out with some great weather at the beach. It was so nice to catch up. Our lives get so busy sometimes and I was surprised that we hadn't seen each other since the funeral.

3. I'm signed up for four races this summer. Apparently I'm a glutton for punishment. I'm running in my third Lynchburg Half Marathon on August 10. I don't really feel that prepared, because it's just been so hot to run long distances (although I have been very good about crossfit). I ran eight miles on Sunday, which actually went really well. I'm planning on running 10 today, which is my last run before the race. Ultimately, it will just have to be a matter of will I guess to get through the 13.1 on race day. I hate feeling so unprepared, but it's my own fault. At least crossfit has really helped with my endurance. I'm also running the Wendy's Wonderful Kids 10K with my brother at the end of August. Then I'm signed up for the Philadelphia Rock and Roll Half with my friend JS, and finally, we're both running in a half marathon relay in October at Hershey Park. My goal was to end up with four new medals this year, and God willing, that should be the case.

4. It wouldn't be a blog post if I didn't give a quick update on Finn. He's getting so big! We've cut his hair twice this summer to help with the heat. I even started running with him and he's not that bad...although cars are still of way too much interest to him. I see great runs in this little dogs future.

So just a short update. Hoping to get a few more blog posts in before the end of the summer.

Til then, stay cool!

Something is missing

Well I am in Brussels, but I can't say the same for my luggage. Before I dive in there, let me share some more details on Monaco.

I have to say, it was really something to wake up every morning to dozens of yachts on the Mediterranean. It was absolutely beautiful. Every day, when I walked to the conference location, I walked along the water. It was really quite a view.

On Wednesday night, my work duties were over and the conference treated us to a 007 themed event, with an open air concert, lots of food, and a little 007 show. My colleague and I also had the opportunity to super-impose our faces and live out our 007 dreams.

This morning I hopped a helicopter...yes, a helicopter to Nice from Monaco. Oddly enough, the helicopter was cheaper, faster, and generally more efficient than a cab. That is, not where my luggage was concerned. I checked my bag when I arrived at the Heli Airport and it was supposed to go all the way to Brussels. However, when I arrived in Brussels, my bag was no where to be found. Honestly, I wasn't really surprised, because it wouldn't be a trip if something didn't go wrong.

I went to the Brussels Airways desk and made my complaint. Oddly enough, even though my bag was tagged and marked, they couldn't tell me where my bag was. All they could say was that it wasn't scanned in Brussels...huh, really? No kidding.

I'm not confident I'll see my bag any time soon. The attendant said he thinks it will arrive in Brussels tomorrow morning, but how can he really know when he doesn't even know where my bag is? Thankfully, since I lost my bag in Orlando, I've learned my lesson and I keep all my essentials in my carry-on: makeup, contact solution, underwear, and my toothbrush. Although I should remind myself next time to include an actual hairbrush - I won't be looking so pretty tomorrow morning.

So after realizing I had no bag, I did manage to find the train station in the airport and get myself to the Brussels Central station. And then I sort of struggled finding my hotel. I had saved directions on my cell phone, but without internet access, it was hard to tell where I was really. The streets aren't marked as nicely as they are in other countries. So I just started following signs to the Grand Place, which I knew was close to my hotel. I managed to find it, although I will be honest, I wasn't sure if it was REALLY the Grand Place. But it was very big...very place like...and lots of people were there, so I assume I found it. Yet, I didn't know where my hotel was in relation to the Place, just that it was close by.

I eventually asked a waiter who was at an outside cafe and he directed me perfectly to my hotel - which is quite nice by the way.

I had planned to go for a run tonight, but without my bag, I'm stuck. Although I probably should go tour Brurssels, I have to admit, I'm plain exhausted. I plan to take a shower and hang out in my hotel room tonight. Tomorrow I head to Bruges and Ghent on a tour. Saturday I spend here in the city and I'm off to Luxembourg on Sunday.

Until next time, please pray for my bag's safe and quick return!

Bonjour!

Greetings from Monaco. It's about 11 p.m. here and I'm simply beat. It's been a very long day and I'm going on 32 hours of pretty much no sleep.

I'd like to say my travel here was uneventful, but it's me, so that's never the case. I was at the back of the plane on my flight to Paris and of course, my seat was broken, so I had to sleep straight up and down...no reclining for me. But I did meet a race car driver from New Zealand and we chatted most of the flight.

Just when we thought we were going to land in Paris, the pilot let us know we were circling the airport because Paris was undergoing some difficult weather A few minutes later, he let us know the airport was in fact closed and we were low on fuel, so we headed for Brussels instead. After spending an hour on the ground in Brussels, we finally arrived in Paris. At least my five hour layover was only two!

When I got to Nice, the airport was basically dead, except for the dozens of people waiting for a cab. I ended up with a really nice cab driver. He asked if I spoke French and I let him know I did, but from that moment on he only spoke to me in French. Running on no sleep, my brain hurt trying to keep up, although I managed to get about 75 percent of what he was saying.

When I got to my hotel, I was completely exhausted, but the view from my room is amazing. I literally overlook the ocean, with yachts in the distance.

I went to dinner at La Note Bleue with some colleagues - it was great getting to know so many colleagues from around the world.

Tomorrow the real work begins, although I have been working on some things this evening.

For now though, my bed is calling my name.