Baby Gianna and the Schmidt family

Ok, read no further if you want bitter rantings!

I just got an alumnus publication from Benedictine College, Atchison, KS. Anybody who knows me has heard me blather on about this place as if it were a magical wonderland. At any rate, my experiences there were pivotal, so as you can imagine the Alumni magazine is a quarterly highlight (I know I am a dork, shut it.) Well, this time as I leafed through I noticed a two-page spread on some peripheral friends, John and Jennifer Schmidt (Jennifer was a dorm director and career counselor for the college.)

The article was about their child "Gianna", it was not your normal birth announcement, the baby died as the result of a very rare birth defect that causes a fetus to be born without kidneys. Of course I was shocked, this is tragedy visited upon people I know. The Schmidt's found out pretty late in the pregnancy, they have two young sons aged 6 and 3, I don't know what my point is here, I guess it is just about courage. The article had a picture of the family shortly after Gianna was born; they knew that her life was going to be short... I don't know I wish I could show you the picture; there is such a beauty and peace around that family. I took the following away from the story:

experience love when you can, it is fleeting

make it available to others always

your own pain is worthless if it paralyzes you, do what is right and be strong even if it hurts

The picture is more than adoring parents and cute children; there was this intangible something in it. You know that these people are aware that this is one of the few moments that they will ever hold this child. Despite this they seem to be in the moment, loving the baby. That is what she needed, that is what their sons needed, that is courage.

The Accidental Heckler

As of late I have been blessed by the friendship of some folks whose cool factor far outranks my own. While I am a social person, parties and clubs have never been my forte (I don’t have the bone structure), thus I am tragically unaware of the mores of that scene. Despite this fact, I found myself late last night at The Someday Lounge http://www.somedaylounge.com/, one of Portland's artiest nightspots and the venue for my newest performance endeavor Muscle Max an 80's retelling of the 19th century opera The Elixir of Love http://www.operatheateroregon.com/. It was a magical night, It was open mic. Night! I was talking some opera jargon with fellow opera whores Katie and Tyler when suddenly the generally laid back place was filled with the really awful sounds of bad, “I wish I were a Beastie Boy” white-boy rap. Not only was this bad white-boy rap but it was exceedingly loud white-boy rap (I should also mention that the "rappers" most resembled Jay and Silent Bob only less attractive.) After the completion of the first number the head "rapper" announced: "it sounds pretty good up here, how bout from out there?" I, having performed with mics and monitors that are not properly set up for a particular acoustic, tried to be helpful by announcing the following: "it's a bit loud." I really meant it in the kindest way, unfortunately, homey white-boy thought that I was heckling him (not the case however well deserved it may have been.) Senior homey pants then set about informing me that he "was from Baltimore" and then proceeded to grumble some sort of East Coast taunt and much to my chagrin, the crowd seemed to disagree with my point that the music might have been the teensiest bit too loud. Thankfully I was cool by association (us opera whores are sponsored by the Someday) and no harm was done. Whitey Mc Whiterson continued to serenade us with his “Baltimore” rap. A good time had by all and really I think we all learned something that night; ugly rap guy learned that you shouldn’t ask questions that you really don’t want the answer to, I learned that I don’t ever want to go to Baltimore (yikes, at least not if everybody there acts like that.)

Thoughts of Emillie

My sister is missing, it has almost been two years. This is sort of eating away at me so bear with me.

It was Christmas of 2005, Emillie called to say that she was sending me some gifts for Abigail my oldest daughter. After a couple of weeks I assumed that she had forgotten or had blown me off. I got some calls from Emillie about 3 weeks later, I didn't pick up because I am stupid, she didn't leave a message for whatever reason. Flash forward to the following April, I was cleaning out our side yard and came across several UPS packages hidden beside our yard waste trash can, I almost shit myself, they were from Emillie. I ran inside and opened them, a Winnie the Pooh puzzle, and a beautiful white teddy bear that lights up to keep a child company in the night. I tried to call Emillie to no avail, her douche bag fiance informed me that she had left and didn't have a telephone. I called around, police can't help, there is no evidence that she is in danger. My mom did an identity search, no information. We posted things on Craigslist, Myspace and Facebook, no answer.

Tonight, Abigail (who is now three) and I went to Mass at Saint Phillip Neri in Portland, OR. We came home and had bath time and got ready for bed. After a few stories we repeated our nightly episode of prayers, repeating all of our family members names. We came to Emillie and I let it slip that she was "lost" Abigail became very concerned, saying that she "wanted her here with me." I tried to explain, and Abigail told me that she wanted Auntie Emillie to "run to her."

Tonight she went to bed hugging that beautiful white bear.

Emillie Hoyt, if you are out there, run home to us, we all miss you...