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A Glass Case of Emotion April 5, 2013

Posted by jeneypeney in i'm just sayin', piss and moan, sentimental stuff.
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I’m a real sap, people. A pathetic, hopeless, emotional bundle of sappy, schmoopy feelings that unleash themselves in a torrent of tears, curse words, and mopey-face at the drop of a hat.

Usually the direct cause of this disorder is the arbitrary, fictional characters of television and film who insist on pulling at my heart string with all their funny quirks and heartbreaking shortcomings. Just to give you an idea of what I am talking about?

When I was a kid, my parents took me to see The Little Mermaid when it came out in theaters. I cried for HOURS when Ariel left King Triton to be with Eric. Her tearful and heartfelt goodbye to her daddy at her wedding was too much for my four year old heart to bear.

To this day, no matter how many times I watch it, I will promptly begin to bawl my eyes out in Armageddon when Bruce Willis’ character pushes Ben Affleck in to the elevator to take his place on that stupid space rock. “Harry I love you!” … gets me every. damn. time.

But there are plenty of other things that turn my tear-ducts in to overdrive.

This weekend I cried my eyes out at a freaking rock concert because the band decided to end their set with this song while showing Amanda Todd’s story on the big screen. One ginormous, sobbing mess I tell ya.

The Actual has actually learned which sniffing noise I make is indicative of a breakdown and preemptively holds me while I sob over THE STUPIDEST SHIT ANYONE COULD EVER CRY ABOUT!

So last night, while watching my go-to favorite show Grey’s Anatomy, I found myself fighting back tears right at the start of the show. Why?

No, not because Meredith and Derrick were making some pretty huge life decisions regarding their children in the wake of their genome tests.

Nope, not because of the pending doom that seems to be awaiting Dr. Bailey and the sudden spread of a life-threatening infection in her surgical patients.

Not even because Kepner’s cute EMT boyfriend is kind of being a poop about her coming clean regarding her virginity.

I was crying because the episode featured two Syrian surgeons who were flown to the states to learn how to perform procedures on those adults and children wounded in the war with nothing more than cotton balls, a match stick, and a flashlight.

Now… I understand the show is a work of fiction. I completely comprehend it is a part of a genre called “drama”. And I know the circumstances those two surgeons were explaining are not truly accurate depictions of what is truly happening in Syria. But that doesn’t negate the fact that there is a war raging as I write this… and that people are dying because of it.

Toward the end of the episode I sat up, looked at The Actual, and said, “I wish I didn’t care so much about things I have no control over.”

Recently my state won Mother Jones’ Anti-Choice March Madness bracket and for good reason. My brother’s right to marry the man he loves is currently being decided by our nation’s highest court. And recently I witnessed some of the most blatant racism I have ever seen fly right under the radar on my own campus.

Quite some time ago I wrote about being emotionally drained due to issues very similar to those in this post. I do sincerely wish sometimes that I was ignorant of these matters. I also find myself insanely jealous of The Actual’s ability to keep so calm and collected in the face of them.*

I wish I didn’t care about things I have no control over. I wish I had control over these things. I wish the people who do have control would just be reasonable.

I wish this world wasn’t so damn ugly. I’m too stupid emotional to handle it… just ask Ariel and Shonda Rhimes.

* Side Story: When the abortion laws were signed in North Dakota, our Governor began to receive death threats. The Actual and I were talking about it when I mentioned I thought those people were going a bit too far. He replied by saying, “Well it wouldn’t be so hard to kill him now. Just find a way to get him pregnant.”

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A Letter to a Hero August 30, 2012

Posted by jeneypeney in all growed up, letters, life, schmoop, sentimental stuff, the famn damily.
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Dear Grandpa,

It is almost unfathomable to believe it has been a year since you passed away. I don’t think I will ever forget how hard my stomach fell and how hard my heart stopped when I heard my phone ring at 5am on this day last year… I couldn’t even make myself get out of bed to answer it.

I knew deep in my heart who it was and the reason she was calling.

I have been struggling with writing this letter for some time now. Every time I would start typing, words would just cluster together in a series of random thoughts and severe blubbering; they were really more like a manic stream of thought than any kind of organized thought.

Although you have been gone from this earth for an entire year now, it took me up until about 3 weeks ago to really realize it. Funny how that happens, right? It hadn’t completely registered that you were gone and never coming back until over 300 days later. I spent over 7,200 hours in denial, Grandpa. Pretty pathetic for your smart little Jeney Penny, huh?

I cried over your body (and cursed the cosmetic mortician person for shaving off your moustache) for two days. At this point I was in the first stage of grief; denial.

My brothers and I spread your ashes on the property you were born on, the farm where you grew up, your favorite fishing lake, and your favorite hunting post. Still in denial.

Buried the remainder of your ashes and said my final goodbye… yep. Still in denial.

Ten months afterward, my dad walked me down the aisle, I said, “I do,” and it STILL hadn’t completely registered to me that you weren’t there on my big day.

So three weeks ago? When I finally came to terms with your passing? I went through the last four stages of grief in a whirlwind of erratic, insane emotions I don’t think a seasoned psychologist could have handled.

I was angry. So angry I ended up screaming at my husband for absolutely no reason one night.

I began bargaining. I prayed every night that God would send you to my dreams (and that I would remember it). I just wanted a few more moments with you.

I was sad. I’m still sad. So sad that it has taken me 3 hours to get to this point in my letter because I can’t see the computer screen through my tears.

I selfishly wish I could call you up and you would just tell me everything will work out. I would give anything for you to have watched me walk down the aisle and dance with me at my wedding. I’m not sure I even want to walk in graduation when I get my Master’s because you won’t be there. I find myself overwhelmed with grief when I think about the fact that you will never get to hold your great-grandchildren.

But through that selfishness, I am finding peace in knowing you are no longer in pain – knowing your legs are strong, your heart is healthy, and you are smiling again. I see you playing fetch with Leo and Max in a big, open field. I can imagine you teasing and giving your sisters and brothers a hard time for silly things; something that made you such a wonderful man to be around. I know you are fishing and hunting and doing everything your poor health and immobility wouldn’t let you do the last couple years of your life.

The past couple weeks have been really hard, and I know today will probably be the worst of all. But please know I am not crying for you. I am crying for me today. I am crying because I miss you. I am crying because I wasn’t able to tell you all about Brian and my camping trip last weekend. I am crying because I am selfish and I want to hear your voice one last time.

I remember watching an episode of Grey’s Anatomy and the characters making a big deal about actually saying, “So-and-So died.” The word “died” was key here. Not “gone,” or “passed away.” They had to say the loved one, “DIED.”

I think that’s going to be my goal this year, telling (and convincing) myself you died. I think maybe that will help me shift in to accepting this whole shebang. I know I’ll see you again someday, but for right now I need to realize you’re no longer here. I need to come to grips with the fact that you are dead.

(Holy shit that is hard to say.)

I love you and I miss you so. much. So effing much.

Goodbye, Grandpa… I will see you again someday.

All my love,

Jen Pen

This… June 2, 2011

Posted by jeneypeney in schmoop, sentimental stuff, weddng madness.
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“For every stoplight I didn’t make
Every chance I did or I didn’t take
All the nights I went too far
All the boys that broke my heart
All the doors that I had to close
All the things I knew but I didn’t know
Thank God for all I missed
Cause it led me here to this…” 

-Darius Rucker, “This”

Photo credit: Christin Berry, Blue Martini Photography

We took our engagement pictures last weekend with the wonderfully talented Christin Berry of Blue Martini Photography! Go check them out at her blog (she’s also got a picture of some ROCKIN’ shoes she wore in Vegas on that post!)