R.a.c.h.e.l Toyer

Most girls wait for years for the right boy to come along and turn their heads.  They try to pretend like the random phone calls don’t matter, and that the infrequent road trips don’t count for much.  Some girls even like to fool themselves into thinking that they are much too independent and self-reliant to ever fall head over heels in love, so head over heels in fact that they don’t want to breathe another breath unless they can share the air with that boy.  I used to be one of those girls, until he gave me my story.

It was any other weekend, and it was not highly anticipated, because most of the plans I made fell through, little did I know, those plans fell through for a reason.  It was the ultimate surprise, showing up on a weekend he wasn’t supposed to be here, to take me on a tour of the “world.”  The theme that day was inspired by all the many countries that are represented by the hotels of Las Vegas, starting in the jungles of the Mandalay Bay and moving to the pyramids of Egypt at the Luxor.  We went stateside to New York New York and felt the thrill of the “taxi cab” roller coaster.  We paused to take a brief rest before heading to my favorite restuarant of all time, Roy’s Hawaiian Fusion, then quickly proceeded to Paris, to the top of the Eifle Tower.  As the day came to a close, my only thought was, “what is the charade about?”  And then, that is when life became as wonderful as it ever could be.

Taking a cruise through Venice, at the Venetian, on the gondola, my furture husband asked me if he could see the “world” with me, to which I replied yes.  He then said a few other things, most of which I forget because before I knew it, he was on his knee, in the gondola asking me to marry him.  I was in tears, the moment I have secretly longed for my entire life, was suddenly there at my feet.  I said yes with all my heart, knowing that if anyone knew how to love me, he did.

He waited, to ask me of course, until a day that I would surely remember for the rest of my life, October 24, 2009, 45 years to the day that my dearly departed grandparents were married in Honolulu.

And that is my story.  I will tell my kids, and grandkids the story about how my life, with the man I have prayed for since I was a little girl, finally began.

After he proposed on the gondola ride.

I had quite the weekend, friends from Utah came down, friends from Vegas came out, fun times.  I love when people mesh and get along.  Bryce was here for the second weekend in a row, how spoiled am I?! Anyway, we all had a blast, lots of laughing, being crazy, and some naked time, yes that’s right, the bravest of us all put on quite the show Sunday morning.  It was insane!  At times like these, I actually like living in Vegas, it’s like the meeting place for all of my friends.  I’ve met up with a handful of friends here that I haven’t seen in years.  I had fun, which was a real change for me since lately I’ve been running on full-speed due to school and work, so the change of pace, and the laughs were like a breath of fresh air.  Until the next crazy weekend!

Bryce and I

J Marshall and I

O yeah, she's totally doing that.

Work it Logan

The year started with the death of the most noble and honorable man I probably will ever know, my  paternal grandfather.  This year is going to come to a close with the death of my favorite lady of all time, my maternal grandmother.  Coping with these significant loses has been a constant battle, and sometimes causes me to rethink everything around me.  After grandpa died, I began to realize how precious time really is, how there will never be enough time and how each and every day must count towards something.  A direct result of his death was my summer trip to Peru for a week.  Grandpa went so fast and unexpectedly that I vowed to never let any opportunity pass me by.

It’s been a month since I was asked to endure the next loss.  My grandmother, the only person on earth I could say anything to, and who understood me and my circumstance.  Apart from my future spouse, hopefully, I don’t think I will ever be as close to anyone.  The past month has been a struggle in the sense that there have been numerous occasions in which I was ready to pick up the phone and hear her greeting of “hi rach!” on the other end.  I miss that greeting. I miss her voice.  I miss her, and grandpa.

I’m tired of death and people dying.  I know it’s a natural part of life and that it happens constantly, but it causes all those who are left behind to wonder, where do we go from here?

Some deal with loss in some ways, others in other ways.  There is no right or wrong perscription for what to do, when, and how.  We all do the best we possibly can, and move on.  But what if we can’t? What if that idea of death and loss are too much to bare?  Imagine your life without the person you love most in the world, would you even consider living that life?  My grandpa would insist I move forward, my grandmother would, if she were here, quickly remind me that I have come too far to give up hope and bury my head in the sand.

What if tomorrow was my last day? Would all I’ve done in this life be enough?

Imagine a race where everyone was a winner, where those who finished last received just as much praise and glory as those who finished first.  Imagine a world without breast cancer.  More than 30,000 participants and volunteers gathered Sunday morning in Newport Beach, California to race towards a cure for breast cancer.
“This is my first year, but I want to keep coming back every year after this,” said Amber Randall, a resident of Cypress.
Started in 1982 in Dallas, Texas, The Susan G. Komen for the Cure was a direct result of one woman’s dedication to her sister, who lost her battle to breast cancer.  Nancy Goodman Brinker is the founder of Susan G. Komen for the Cure, formerly The Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Foundation, and has helped to raise more than $1.3 billion dollars.  It was because of this sister’s determination to find a cure and provide breast health education, that Susan G. Komen for the Cure is the leading breast cancer charity in the world.
“I recently lost my grandmother to breast cancer, but by the sight of so many people here today, I remain hopeful that we will find a cure,” said Jordan Toyer, a 2009 race participant.
Men, women, children, and even some of the family dogs, gathered at the starting line at 7:35 a.m. to walk, or race, 5 kilometers, or 3.2 miles around Fashion Island.  Those wearing pink t-shirts endured the turmoil that is associated with being diagnosed with breast cancer, they are the survivors, the women who inspire us all.
“Participating in the Orange County Susan G. Komen walk for the cure is a spiritual experience because you get to walk with your family and thousands of others with one purpose in mind,” said Angeline Smith, another 2009 race participant.
Pink signs were pinned to the backs of the participants, with names of those who have overcome their battle, and those who battle is now our life’s mission.  We honor them through our efforts, we race to find their cure.

There has been a lot to day recently, I just haven’t had the time to say any of it.  Maybe that is being too hard on myself, I guess the truth is I haven’t made any time to say all that I’ve needed to recently.  The song “Say” by John Mayer comes to mind.  We all need to speak out once in a while, about the heartache, or the joy, the sorrow, or the triumph.  It’s not good to hold things inside, not healthy to let emotion fester and turn into counter-production.

So thus begins my rant to what I’ve been feeling lately…

They say time heals all wounds, I’m not sure who the “they” is, but let’s suppose that the saying is true none the less.  My argument is that time may very well heal wounds, but time also leaves scars.  Papa Roach can say it so much better than I, “Our scars remind us that the past is real…”  We can obviously live with scars, what we can’t live with is pain, thus “time heals all wounds.”  How much time it takes to heal is something “they” leave out.  I often wish the saying would include or be sensitive to how much time it will take to heal.

Moving along, I should make time to say how wonderful it is to love.  It’s like taking all the supposed things that make a person happy, chocolate, sleeping in, sports, shopping, sunshine, laughter, or ice cream and having access to them 24/7.  Love, I have found, can you give you a courage and a will that you maybe didn’t have before.  Despite the fact that it is the hardest thing to work with, love is, speaking from experience, the most rewarding feeling.  Along with love comes hope, a term that gets over looked a lot these days. Hope helps you keep your courage, even when things beyond your control seem to want to rob you of it.  Love and hope, when used correctly together, empowers you to look beyond the past, and focus on the present, and the future.

I recently told a good friend, that I’m starting to look at life the way a football player might look at it.  Instead of looking down the field, towards the goal line, a football player focuses on getting the 1st down.  Considering the fact that I’m using football to make this analogy, I might as well make it poignant.  Too much time spent worriying on the end result will drive a person crazy, not to mention make them lose focus and not be able to enjoy the awesome plays that life has to offer.  So, I’m focusing on getting each and every 1st down that I possibly can, even if that means I have to wait a long time to get to the end zone.  I won’t spend my life looking down the field, wishing I could just get there already.  Each day, is a different 1st down, and each day my goal is make the best play that I can.

And that…is making time to say it all!

There are hard times fast approaching.

People giving up.

It’s drizzling.

Defeat is creeping up and around.

No one wants to fight.

It’s raining.

When it rains it pours.

I can’t bear to lose anymore.

Dark clouds cover my understanding,

Bring on the rain.

I see planes over my head everyday.  I see them takeoff, and I see them land.  I rarely hear of planes crashing or falling from the sky for unknown reasons. They, everyone, anyone really, say that flying is still the safest form of travel. Thousands, probably millions of people fly everyday.  People come and they go.  Business, pleasure and everything in between takes the average person from one part of the world to another.  I’m one of those average people, I fly a lot. Mostly pleasure, sometimes business, occasionally both.  I lived in Hawaii for four years and the fastest way to and from is via air travel.  I’ve been to New York twice, Chicago, San Francisco, Salt Lake City a half a dozen times.  I flew to Mexico three summers ago, and just recently completed a trip to Peru.  I remphasize, I fly a lot.  Do I like it….flying….hell no!

This past summer is when the anxiety began to occur between takeoff and landing of any trip that I made on an airplane.  I can’t explain it, I can’t pretend to understand it.  The plane goes up, and while everyone else around me is snoozing, or enjoying their complementary beverage, I am in my chair, hands gripped tight around the arm rests, heart beating fast, praying.  It’s the worst kind of discomfort, and I can say this because I’m girl and discomfort is part of life.  The slightest bump or shake, sends me into complete panic mode.  Now that I live in Las Vegas, it’s even worse.  Flying in and out of here is like trying to hold an umbrella steady on the most windy day ever.  No lie!

Why do I have such a phobia of the “friendly” skies? I wish I could say.

This last time on the plane, I was flying to Salt Lake City, one way, from Las Vegas, not a long flight at all, yeah right.  Bumpy as all hell, thought my time had come.  There was a very nice lady, calmly sitting next to me, eating a salad of some sort.  I proceeded to envade her travel time.  Made small talk, very politlely asked if she wouldn’t mind talking with me to distract me from the present circumstance.  She was nice and she agreed.  Her name is Sam, she lives in Ashville, North Carolina, and she specializes in EVOX Biofeedback Emotional Healing.  I had never heard of anything she was explaining to me, but she gave me her card so I have yet to google it.  Anyway, very nice lady, who said something to me on that plane that I hope never to forget, “it’s all about fealing safe,” she said, “feeling safe within yourself and with everything around you.”  It was the most profound thing anyone could have said to me at that moment.  The feeling of safety is what I lack while 34, 000 feet in the air. I’ll have to find it somewhere, probably while in the air, flying.

If I ever meet Sam again,  I’d thank her for giving me something else to think about between takeoff and landing.

Once upon a time I met this crazy, thrill seeking, kind hearted girl in Hawaii, and we instantly became friends.  She later told me that  I was spunky, and fiesty and that she knew we would get along well.  The first time I ever surfed in Hawaii, Jana was there.  The first time I ever lived with girls I barely new, Jana was there.

We had ice cream at cold stones

I experienced a lot of firsts with her, and to this day, the stories we now tell about those years are infamous.  I tell those wonderful stories to everyone, “I remember a time when Jana and I did this…” or “There was this one time when Jana and I…”  I learned so much from her, so much that is too personal to share, but still worth mentioning in abstract.  She helped me to be comfortable with who I am, help me to settle into my own skin in a manner of speaking.  Jana was always the first person to encourage and support me in whatever I wanted to do.  Every step of the way, she believed in all that I was capable of.

Halloween in Hawaii 2006

Of all the people I was blessed to meet in Hawaii, my roomate Jana left the biggest mark on my time there.  She used to say that the Lord brought us together, and that it was meant to be, us living together.  I have so many memories, so many good times, and how fortunate I was to have friends like her.

Having dinner at Ala Moana

So while in Utah this past week, I went to my roomate’s wedding.  She married a rather tall fellow named Stephen, whom I don’t know well, but if Jana deemed him worthy of her, then he must be more than fine.  I’ve seen Jana at her worst, and I’ve seen her at her best.  We laughed, more than should be legal, and we cried, and we experienced every emotion in between.  The look of happiness that one has on their wedding day,  a day dreamed of, and planned at so precisely, is unlike any look I can think to describe.  I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.  She made me promise to be there the day she got married, and after all she has done for me, I had to keep my promise.  I’ll always look back with fondness on the adventures we shared, and all the memories we made.  And now that she is a married woman,   I wish both her and Stephen all the happiness, all the love, and all the memories that a life together can afford.

At the reception in Provo

Stephen, Jana, and I

Jana and Stephen Woods= August 5, 2009

I’m not good at farewells, or goodbyes.  Even if I know that I will surely see these people again, the thought of being separated for a time leaves you feeling empty and wishing that all the people you love would just follow you around everywhere.

Bryce left today for Oklahoma, he will be there for about three months, and then he will go straight to Hawaii to begin his contract with the FAA.  And all the while, I’ll be stuck in Las Vegas, pounding away at school, trying to hurry and finish.

Today, as he starts his journey, we are both in agreement that we want the year to pass by fast.  We want time to be kind to the both of us, to allow us the courage to endure the year.  A year from now, we will look back on this time as the period in which we grew the most, as individuals, and as a couple.  I hope that he knows, as he drives far away, that he has my whole heart going with him.  That I’ll wait for him, and that we will live happily ever after sooner than he thinks.