biancadarc.com Blog

Vision Boards

A vision board is a new name for an old concept. Back when I was a teenager, two creative friends of mine gave me one of the most beautiful gifts I have ever received. They bought a cheap poster frame and filled it with a collage of images and words cut out of magazines. Things they knew I liked and that they thought represented me. It was so beautiful. So thoughtful. They’d put a lot of time and thought into making that thing and I loved it! I still have it, in fact.

So when I first heard about the concept of a vision board, at first I was wondering what it could be about. In reality, it’s the same kind of thing – only you cut out images of things you want in your life. Images that appeal to you. Images and words that represent people, places, things and feelings you want to come into  your life. The idea from there is the same – collage the images and words into a picture that you can put somewhere you will see it every day. By keeping these things you want in your mind every day, you will be able to bring them into your life.

Life coaches use this tool and it’s something that can be very helpful. What I’ve done is take it into the technological age. Instead of buying a bunch of magazines and going crazy with scissors and glue, I made myself an electronic collage of images I pulled from the internet. Then I set the image collage as the background on my computer desktop. I look at that all day long, so it’s a good place to keep those images and concepts fresh in my mind during the day.

If you’re not good with collages, why not try just right-clicking on an image and setting it as your background whenever you want. You can change the desktop all the time as different images catch your eye. It’s worth a try, so have fun and enjoy!

With any luck, we’ll all be able to attract the good things we want in our lives.

Dark Places

I came across a quote that I found beautiful:

“When it’s dark enough, you can see the stars.”

Well, it’s plenty dark in my world of late, but so far I haven’t seen many stars. I’ll keep looking. Problem is, I’m stuck in such a dark place of grief and unhappiness, I forget to look up.

New Year

All in all, 2009 was a good year… at least at first. I got my first “NY” contract for the zombie series, the first book of which was just released (HALF PAST DEAD). Getting that contract was a milestone and I’m so thankful that my Mom was there through every exciting turn of that time in April/May when it was all coming together.

I’m also thankful for the incredible cross-country trip I took with my Mom and Dad in June. She loved road trips and seeing the country with her was so incredibly special. SHE was incredibly special. Definitely a one-in-a-million person that I will always miss.

Which brings us to the latter part of 2009, which absolutely sucked. My Mom discovered something was wrong in late August/early September. The doctors dithered for about a month before giving her the diagnosis of cancer in early October. From there it was all downhill until she passed away on December 23rd from a hospital infection.

I never even contemplated planning her funeral or figuring out what she was going to wear for eternity. This has, without doubt, been the worst time in my life. My beloved Mom – my best friend – has been gone a little over a week now and I don’t know how I’ll ever get used to it.

All I can hope is that 2010 is better. With any luck, my Dad and I will find a new path for our lives. I’ll also be watching the sales numbers of my first NY books closely to see if they’re doing well. Future contracts are riding on the success of these books, so sales on them are a lot more “important” than normal, if I can say it that way.

I hope we all have a healthy, happier 2010. I can’t thank you all enough for the support you’ve given me over the past three months. It really helped me feel less alone and got me through a lot of really tough times. Thanks for being there for me. I hope I can repay the kindness someday and know that you all continue to be in my prayers.

Happy New Year.

Tears From Heaven

My Mom was buried today at a National Cemetary here on Long Island. I think it was appropriate because my Mom was a POW in WWII as a child in Indonesia (she was born in the Netherlands) and her family has always been very involved in the military. My Dad is a WWII veteran and he was entitled to the plot there because of his service. Someday — far in the future, I pray – he can join her there.

It rained. My Mom loved rain, so it was completely appropriate. I wore Mom’s gorgeous black mink coat, as I knew she’d want me to do. We always shared things and she had let me wear the coat many times before, so I knew she wouldn’t mind. In fact, she’d have liked that my Dad and I made a good showing, so to speak. To do her proud. I think we did that and I also think Mom asked God to hold off on the rain while we were outside at the cemetary so her beautiful coat wouldn’t be ruined.

Because as soon as we got back on the highway, the heavens opened up and it rained. Tears from Heaven to echo the tears I’ve been shedding for the past days since she left us.

About three weeks before we realized anything was wrong, my Mom had a sort of vision. She was resting on the couch in the living room, sort of half-awake and half-asleep when she saw her mother and father, her recently deceased brother, who was her best friend since they were about 3 years old, and her uncle, who thought of her as a daughter. They didn’t speak, but they communicated a thought to her. They said “We’ll take care of you.”

Three weeks later, we were in the Emergency Room. Three months later, she’s with them in Heaven.

We had hope, throughout this all-too-short ordeal, that “her angels” as we referred to them, would see her through the illness and help her recover. Now, of course, we know they meant something else.

It’s beautiful to think that she and my uncle are reunited. They were so close in life, she was devastated when he died last year. She named my brother after him and to this day, when the phone rings after midnight, I always think it’s got to be one or the other of them. Then I take a step back and realize it can only be my brother now and I feel a little pang, missing my uncle. He was as special as she was.

I will miss her the rest of my days but I hope and pray that she’s with me, watching over me as she always did. Since she got sick, I told her the one thing I missed the most was that we couldn’t talk as we had before. My Mom was a talker. She always had such great advice for me and for everyone she met. Never pushy, but always wise, she helped so many people from her friends to the students she counseled for so many years as an educator and law professor. She was so beautiful. I know it’s cliche, but my Mom was really, truly beautiful. When she was younger, so many people said she looked like Grace Kelly. Blonde, blue eyed, with high cheekbones and a beautiful smile, she was never vain. She liked to look nice, but she wasn’t shallow. She had a depth to her and an intelligence that just wouldn’t quit. How many women of her generation would go back to law school in their 50’s and drag their daughters with them? Mine did. I would never have gone to law school or achieved any of the things I’ve achieved without her guidance.

When I wanted to quit my big money job and write, I asked her advice. I expected her to say, “What? Are you kidding? You went to school for so long and now you’re going to chuck it all to write? Get real.” Instead, she surprised me by saying, “Write. Do what you love.” With that sage advice, I launched yet another new career path. (I’ve had probably 4-5 different “careers” at this point.)

She was so sick for too short a time but I missed her talking to me. I cried and cried because she was just so tired from the illness and treatment that she didn’t talk much at all except to worry and ask me if I was worried. We were together all day, every day while she was home and when she was in the hospital, I spent 14-17 hours a day with her, but it wasn’t enough. When she was stuck there alone at night, she asked for me. When she was on the ventilator in ICU where they wouldn’t let me stay at night, I would find notes that she’d written to the nurses asking them to call me or get me, that she needed me. It broke my heart. We were so close. We were best friends and when I needed her, she was always there. I like to think that when she needed me, I was there for her too.

Rest in peace, Mom. I love you more than I can say.

Update on Life… and Death

Prepare to be depressed. (If you don’t want to be depressed, just skip this blog for now, k?)

My Mom is dying of lung cancer. Yesterday, I was finally told she’s terminal and may have a few months – at most. I am not handling it well, as one might expect. My Mom is my best friend and always has been. I have no idea how to live without her. To give you some idea – we went to law school together. She was actually a year ahead of me. When I graduated, they allowed her to award me my degree onstage at Avery Fisher Hall in New York City.

She’s at a local hospital for the moment and I’m working on getting a second opinion at Sloan Kettering Cancer Center. After that? Who knows. It’s in God’s hands.

So as you can imagine, I won’t be around much. My books are the last things on my mind right now. My readers are on my mind and I want you all to know how much I appreciate the prayers, good thoughts and healing vibes being sent our way. Keep ‘em coming. My Mom and I believe very strongly in the power of prayer, so please say a prayer for my Mom, Sophia, if you’re so inclined.

Thank you and I’ll try to keep you posted once in a while. If you have any ideas for me, please pass them along. I’ll be around a little, but probably not interacting much until and unless things settle down a bit. Wish us luck… and pray for a miracle.

Happy Moment Turned Sad

I had something terrible happen today. Well… it was actually supposed to be something fantastic, but given the circumstances in my life at the moment, it’s terrible.

My first-ever NY published book came in the mail. I got to hold HALF PAST DEAD in my hands. Not the ARCs. The real book.

As the visiting nurse was leaving, she and I found the box on the doorstep. I opened the box and what should’ve been a celebratory moment in my life turned into one of extreme sadness. I cried. Not happily. When I should’ve been happy dancing, I was instead thinking of all the plans I’d had to celebrate my first “real” book – one that didn’t come out in ebook first. Plans that may never see fruition now that my Mom is so ill.

She has stage 4 lung cancer. She is a non-smoker so we have no idea how this happened to her. She is on chemo and I can’t be sure that her scary condition now – not eating, sleeping all the time, muscle aches all over and needing a walker and an oxygen line just to get to the bathroom - is only the side effects of chemo, or if she’s going downhill fast from the cancer. Please, God, let it just be the chemo.

(I detailed the journey we’ve taken to get to this point in my most recent newsletter, if you’re interested in how I got here.)

I told Mom that I’d wanted to celebrate my book with a celebratory dinner out, but of course that’s out of the question right now. I told her I wanted a rain check. When she’s better, I want to take her to that dinner and celebrate. I just hope and pray that God lets us get to that point. Please pray if you’re so inclined. Thanks.

And the Wheel Turns…

Happy Halloween. Blessed Samhain. Happy New Year and all that good stuff. As I write this, it is approaching midnight here on the East Coast of the United States. Another year cycle coming to an end, and the Wheel turns.

My personal belief system is complex and many faceted. I have a great deal of respect for the traditions of the past and I think there’s a lot our modern religions owe to those that came before. I like the idea of the Wheel of the year with the various parts watched over by the three aspects of the goddess – Maiden, Mother and Crone. We’re passing out of the Mother’s influence as harvest comes to an end and Winter begins – the time of the Crone. But then it won’t be long before the Maiden shows her sunny face in the Spring. My favorite time of year.

I usually enjoy Halloween, but this year, as you may know, I’m dealing with family tragedy in the making. My Mom fell ill at the end of August and by the end of September, we were told it was an advanced stage of lung cancer. She’s not a smoker, and usually very active, so this took us by surprise to say the least. It’s been a shock and a time of turmoil for my Dad and me. He’s eight years older than she is, so we always just assumed that if/when they were to die, he’d go first. Now it looks like that may not be the case and he and I are both lost. Confused, grieving in anticipation of something we don’t know how to deal with and completely lost as we try to look after her.

She’s going through chemotherapy now and I’m having a difficult time dealing with the side effects. She’s not eating and I take it as a personal failure on my part. I’m not a good cook. I’ve never been “domestic.” I was the youngest of her two children (my brother is not involved with the family much and lives 3000 miles away). I never took care of anyone. I never even babysat. I’m single and have no children. So being on call 24/7 as her personal helper is something I’m ill prepared for, but cannot deny her. She’s my Mom. I’d walk through fire for her.

So I’m cooking, cleaning, have remodled part of my house to make a bedroom for her and basically being her cheerleader, coach, nurse, dietician, and all around Gal Friday. And doing my best not to lose it every few minutes. First, I’m scared. More afraid than I’ve ever been in my life. I can’t lose her. I’m not ready. She’s not ready. She has so much to live for. So much to enjoy in life. It’s not fair. Second, I’m ill prepared for the roles I’ve been forced into and feeling incredibly inadequate and guilty for things like her weight loss. If only I could find a way to make her eat more! If only I could cook something she’d actually eat. If only… If only… If only…

One of the worst side effects she’s experiencing is weakness in her muscles that makes it incredibly difficult to walk. She’s using a walker, but it’s pitiful to watch. She shakes so much in fear she’s going to fall and weakness in her leg. I want to cry but I also know she has to keep moving or she won’t be able to. Then I beging to second guess everything – is it a sign of deterioriation? Or is it just a side effect that will end when the chemo has done its job? Am I going to lose her even sooner? I’m so scared. I want to cry but I can’t really cry in front of her. Then I do and I feel guilty for letting her see me blubber and break down. It only makes things worse.

My plate is full. My mind races in a million directions and I can’t take much more. If you believe in such things, please say a prayer for my Mom. I’d like to think that the chemo is working and she’ll be with me for at least a few years to come. But I just don’t know. No one can say. Please pray for that outcome. I need her. I need her wisdom as I try to reassemble the broken pieces of my life. I can’t do it without her and I pray that I won’t have to. Just a little more time. A few more years. I need my Mom with me. Please.

So at this auspicious time – the turning of the year – the Eve of All Hallows and the beginning of the Feast of All Saints – that’s my dearest wish, my fondest desire, my most fervent prayer. If the lines between the realms are indeed blurred tonight, perhaps my prayer will be heard and answered.

Update

I know my blog has been rather depressing lately but it’s a reflection of my life at this point. I’m taking care of my Mom 24/7 and I don’t begrudge her a second of my time. I only regret we didn’t do more together when she was still able to zip around and travel. Right now she’s on oxygen and therefore tethered to the machine they put in our home. So she’s limited to the first floor. We moved her into the family room, which we’re still converting into a bedroom for her, and eventually, my Dad as well. Looks like we’re all going to be living under 1 roof for the foreseeable future. I’m moving my bedroom downstairs as well, so I can be around when she needs me in the middle of the night.

Right now, I’m sleeping about 3 hours at a time on the couch that is still in the family room while we’re getting things moved around. There’s a big china cabinet that has to be packed up and taken out along with some other stuff. It’s definitely a work in progress. (Like I really need another task to add to my “to do” list.)

She started chemotherapy last week and is sleeping a lot right now, which they say is to be expected. I only pray the chemo drugs do the trick and halt the cancer in its tracks. I’d love to see some improvement in her condition so that she can travel again, but right now that’s totally out. Which means I’m not going anywhere either. So I had to miss Albacon a week or two ago and I won’t be able to make it to AAD either, even though I helped plan some of it. I’m bummed, but Mom has to come first. I don’t know how much longer she’ll be here and I don’t intend to miss a second of it.

Please say a prayer for her recovery if you’re so inclined and thank you for your good wishes and emotional support. It really means a lot.

Thanks

I want to thank those of you who have reached out to me. I feel very isolated working from home and not having much contact with people outside the postman and the nurses who now come to the house to evaluate my Mom. It means a lot to know there are people out there who actually care what I have to say and are willing to at least lend a virtual “ear” – so to speak – when I begin to lose it, as I did the last time I posted here.

Thank you for putting up with me.

The future is beginning to take shape and it includes chemotherapy for my Mom and lots of work on my part to help make her life easier and more comfortable. It also includes a ton of worry and a painful dose of reality, I’m afraid. But I guess that’s life – nobody gets out alive.

Keep the prayers coming and you are all in my thoughts and prayers as well. It’s good to know I’m not completely alone, even if it is only virtually.

Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

Not sure if I should do this here… if you’re looking for a rah-rah post about an upcoming release or something, stop right here. I’ll get back to that at some point – I hope – but right now I’m just too depressed to do much of anything other than examine what’s going on in my world and how I can make it better. As some of you know by now, my mother was just diagnosed with cancer. It was totally out of the blue and utterly devestating.

She went from being very active (we’ve called her the Energizer Bunny for years) and working to nearly bedridden in less than 2 months. We’re looking forward to starting chemotherapy – maybe this week. Did you catch that? Looking forward to chemo? Dear God, how my world has changed in a few short weeks.

Only now do I realize I’ve been in a sort of semi-depressed state since somewhere around 2003. Let me go back a bit… In the Summer of 2001, I was an Assistant Vice President on Wall Street. I was making oodles of money and had the “dream” job I’d always wanted, but it was like that old saying: Be careful what you wish for. I hated that job and quit it roughly 2 weeks before 9/11. I’ve always thought God had a hand in the timing there. If my boss had wanted me to work out my 2 weeks notice, I probably would have been in my office, in the shadow of the Towers on 9/11. As it is, I wasn’t, and I’m forever grateful for that.

That’s not to say that 9/11 wasn’t traumatic. I had friends there. But that’s enough of that. To bring the story forward a little, let’s just say that my job situation cleared up the following week. My previous employer called me back to be a consultant. I did that for about 3 years until the consulting work dried up. During that time, I pocketed some money to finance my move to writing. After some fumbling – and a run-in with a bad ulcer – I managed to break into fiction in 2005 and was first published in 2006. I made next to no money for the first few years and lived off my savings, which grew perilously low.

I’m making more now, but nowhere near what I was making when I worked full-time. Still, I’ve been economizing and trying to stick with writing so I can spend as much time as possible with my aging parents. I love them. I get along with them. I have one other sibling who lives 3000 miles away and never visits. I’m their only moral support. I’m the only one they can depend on.

And increasingly, they’ve become the center of my universe.

Only now do I realize that I went from being an independent career woman with her own business, to some kind of old kid, reverting to a child-like existence where my parents are my best friends. While I’m glad I’m here to help, I now see that there must be something wrong with my life. And how selfish is that? That I’m weeping about my future when my mother is facing her own mortality and an uncertain lifespan.

Now that I look back on it, I’ve been overly emotional for the past few years. I burst into tears at the least provocation. I’ve been crying like… every day. Not since the news about the cancer. I’m talking since about 2003. Um… something is probably wrong with that.

When I would get choked up, I’d tell myself to knock it off and hide it. Now that I’m sitting with my Mom all day long everyday, I can’t hide it anymore. When I try to tell her why I’m crying - which has a lot to do with her illness, of course, though I don’t want her to know it – I realize I’m scared spitless about my future. Again… selfish. I shudder to think how horrible I am, but I can’t help it right now.

I think I’ve reverted to that pre-college stage where you’re not sure about your future and getting ready to leave the nest. Only this time, I don’t have that 20-year-old optimism about how bright my future is. No, now I’m 40 and realizing that I’ve wasted a good portion of my life chasing a business career I ultimately gave up. While getting a lot of edcuation and climbing that corporate ladder I missed out on dating, marrying, having kids… all that normal stuff. Basically, I’m alone. Well, I have my Mom and Dad, but for how much longer?

Then I cry, dreading a future alone. And I make my living now writing romance. Paradox, anyone?

I hope you don’t mind my blogging about this, but writing it out helps me figure out what’s going on in my head. I’ve had a rude awakening. I can’t hide the tears anymore. Now they’re mixed with tears for my Mom’s situation. I’ve got to work my way out of this emotional black hole, fighting gravity all the way.

I don’t know what to do.