First of all, I am writing this post on a new laptop. It's so strange to have this after the years and years of having the bulky, outdated computer. Having something small, light and incredibly fast is definitely not something I'm used to. But it's been amazing to have with the fall semester for school starting.
(Isn't she lovely?)
Speaking of which, I am taking two classes this semester - Intermediate Algebra with Geometry and Psychology. 8 credit hours total and it's been keeping me fairly busy. It's a different change of pace from the summer semester - during the summer, everything was so condensed. I mentioned that both of my courses during the summer were both online - and while it was great for convenience sake with my work schedule, I found that I was working on an assignment everyday. Weekends weren't sacred - in fact, the few times that the classes "met" online in a chat forum setting, it was on a Sunday evening. I feel, however, it was a great way to get back into the school setting and focus myself better. I always felt like I could be doing something to improve an assignment or that I should be reading something and as a result, this fall semester I've become fairly strict with myself in setting time aside for studying and homework. By the way, I received an A in both the English and Humanities class - so, I feel I'm off to a good start (and have the same expectation for the rest of my classes as well.) Math has never been my strong point - in fact, for as long as I can remember, it has been the weakest of subjects and I've had a sense of anxiety whenever I had a class or had to do math in front of anyone. To be honest though, I'm over it. I've decided to make my weakness a strength, and I've committed myself to understanding it and, God willing, actually enjoy it. Surprisingly, despite pangs of anxiety that still seem to come from time to time, I'm doing well and enjoying it.
Work is going well - nothing terribly new to report. The night shift doesn't differ much in terms of new product. It usually seems to be the case that we are either terribly busy and I am running around all night praying I can get everything done before the different departments come to pick up their product or it's an average day and I'm able to help out some with the day crew's projects. Such was the case last week and I was able to do my regular work and then do odds and ends for the day crew to help them out, like make batches of cookies, candy walnuts and pecans, make rice pudding, make fillings and icings for cakes and things of that nature. As simple as those projects sound, it's nice from time to time to do those types of things to keep those types of projects fresh and to break up the standard day to day business. I, unfortunately, haven't had enough free time to devote to trying new products and testing new recipes, but that time will definitely come in the coming months - the fall is terribly busy and then it gets all "feast or famine" during the late fall/winter months. Lucky for me and the girl I work with at night, our tasks are consistent and essential and we'll always have hours to work - compared to the day crew where they could be working 50+ hour weeks and then turn around and have a 3 day work week because business is slow. The more I think about the permanent switch I made to do the night shift, the more I realize that I made the right choice - for sanity and otherwise.
These past few months have been very busy with work, school, moving, Scott getting back from New York, training for the next marathon, visiting Scott's family, people visiting and staying at our place - It felt like a whirlwind - and in the midst of it all, I got news that my opa had fallen and that he was in the hospital. Through the busy days, I got updates from my mom and siblings about his condition and any and all news. It seemed, despite his age and his condition, he was actually beating the odds and doing well. Not surprising, to be honest, the man is a fighter and has always beaten the odds. And then, I got news that he had passed away. I couldn't really believe it - the news was almost numbing.
Thanks to my mom, I was able to fly back to Utah for a few days for the services. I flew in Sunday afternoon and my brother and his family picked me up and we drove straight down to Mt. Pleasant to the viewing. The drive was a good hour and 1/2 - which was really nice to be with Jason, Dani and the boys. Very few people in my life know me like they do and their humor and personalities match mine exactly - so the drive down and back were hilarious and wonderful despite the circumstances. It was pretty amazing that every member of my extended family was there - and being one of 32 cousins (not including spouses/partners, kids, etc.), we are a large bunch. The funeral was the next day, emotions were high - especially seeing my oma saying her last goodbye to her husband of almost 55 years - but the service itself was a tremendously wonderful tribute. There was beautiful music, all of the aunts and uncles told little stories about him, my mom gave a wonderful history of his life along with more stories that I had never heard of before. It was definitely emotional, but it certainly felt like a celebration of a wonderful life and for that, it felt very bittersweet. After the service, I was able to spend some time with my siblings and mom before we headed back to the Salt Lake area. I spent the night at dinner with my mom, Bob, Jason, Dani and their boys reminiscing about Opa's life and general catching up. Then, that night, my mom and I talked a bit more about my opa and oma and the events leading up to his passing and what had happened after - and it was strange because I didn't feel like his death had really hit me until that point.
(At the cemetery - I realized at this point that I didn't get a picture of his casket which was designed and built by my uncle, Chris - pictures don't do it justice. It was beautiful workmanship)
(The Klunker Family - Oma, Mom, aunts and uncles at the cemetery)
*Picture taken from Mike's facebook page - it was such a good picture I had to share it
(At the reception after - Mom, Shiloh, Heather... and Jason, acting like a bug buzzing around Heather's head while wearing my sunglasses...)
(Shiloh - in all her adorable glory)
(Me with my aunts Stacy and Jann - although from my dad's side of the family, they came to the services. I realized that I didn't have a picture of them since my farewell back in 2002, so I took advantage of the opportunity, in spite of Stacy's protest)
My mom went upstairs to go to bed and I was by myself in her guest room for the first time in weeks - no assignments to finish, no people to entertain at home, Scott wasn't there to talk to - and so I was able to lay there and really think. I looked back on my relationship with Opa and realized that he and Oma had always been supportive of me in every decision I ha ever made. Opa was at my high school graduation, he was supportive and proud when I chose to go on an LDS mission, he was always happy whenever I talked about culinary school and being a pastry chef and most recently, he and my oma always told me they loved me and that my partner and I were welcome in their home. Furthermore, whenever I talked with Opa, I always felt important. He always had a way of adding humor, sincerity and love to everything he did and I realized that he was one of the few people in my love who had been completely unconditional. After I had realized all of this, I was a hot mess. The grieving process is funny that way - I had received the news, been to the viewing and the funeral service and it wasn't until after all that, that it really sunk in.
The next day, was emotional because I had to leave back to Chicago. I felt raw from this entire realization and then I had to leave family again. Mom, Jason and I grabbed a quick bite to eat and then they dropped me off at the airport and then I was back to reality... *sigh* All in all, it was an incredibly quick trip - I believe it was only about 48 hours total that I was back in Utah - but it was nice to be able to be with family. I remember being on my mission and getting news that my grandma had passed away after her tough battle with cancer and not being able to be with family or attend any of the services. Quite simply, it was an awful experience. In fact, I'm surprised I even brought that up because I still can hardly look back on that moment in my life without having a pit in my stomach. Being with family, even for a short time, was not only where I wanted to be, but where I needed to be. There is nothing better than laughing together, crying together, sharing memories together and when everything has been said, simply being together in the same room without saying anything at all is enough.
(At the airport with Mom and Jason - I love the photobomb from the luggage crew in the background)
When I got back to Chicago, I heard this song by Jennifer Hudson called 'Still Here'. I've had it on my MP3 player for a while, but I never really listened to the words - but when I was on one of my runs, the track came on and the words hit me deep and I couldn't help but remember Opa and the great man he was and the wonderful way he always made me feel.
Here is that song:
In fact, it has been one month since he passed away - I didn't realize it until I saw a few posts from a few of my aunts on facebook. It's crazy how time flies...
Anyway, it is definitely time for more homework - I have a decent list to take care of before my weekend is over. Hope to keep in touch again soon - Until next time!
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