In Loving Memory...

It's been three years since my father-in-law passed away. He left quietly on the morning before Thanksgiving. We had all been taking care of him around the clock for three weeks. Cliff and I drove in every weekend to relieve his mother and his aunt. Hospice came in and helped but I didn't realize that they weren't there all the time. This wasn't my first experience with death and losing a loved one, but it was the first time for me to see "the light fade". I know this is going to sound crazy, but that holiday season and that time are something that I cherish.

I met my father-in-law when I was twenty. I had been dating Cliff for a few months and I was nervous about meeting these people. I already knew that they were different from anyone I had ever met. They were country folks and I was a city girl. I had talked on the phone with Johnnie ( later he was Dad to me ) only once. He seemed funny and he liked to talk...a lot. He told me that when Cliff was a little boy, Cliff screamed with terror before he got a spanking. In fact, that was how he got out them. I almost didn't understand him through his laughter as he recounted the story to me. I was already struggling to make out what he said. He had a crazy Cajun/East Texas accent combo that made it hard for me to understand him. I don't remember much about the first time I met him, only that he was funny and I laughed a lot.

On our wedding day, he wore his first tux ever in his life. He smiled and strutted with pride, He looked good! During our first kiss, he told Cliff to, "Give her the tongue boy!" Dad was always saying something off the wall. That's who he was and he didn't apologize for it. He just let it all out. He had already been through so much in life that he probably thought, "What the hell?" He was the recipient of heart surgeries and back surgeries. Over the years that Cliff and I were married, I witnessed many episodes of hospital stays and moments that we thought were his last. That stubborn old goat pulled through every time but it was clear that he was on borrowed time. We all knew it but he understood it. Looking back, I suspect he knew when he was in the last year of his life. I wish he would have clued us in but death is funny that way. It's quiet and sneaky. Death can lurk for months and whisper, "I'm here," while we are all busy living life.

I had an amazing relationship with Dad. He had become another parent to me. Whenever he and my mother-in-law stayed with us, he and I would sit up late at night chatting away. In the morning, he made sure we had coffee. Whenever we went to visit them, he was usually my first hug. It as customary for me to climb into his lap like a little kid and hug his neck. When we took road trips, he was my co-pilot. My dad is far away from me so to have another loving dad close by was a blessing.

The weeks leading up to his death, I read over the literature that the hospice care people left behind. I wanted to make sure that I understood what was happening for my family and for myself. That literature gave me the strength to keep it together. Dad knew he was leaving and I wanted him to see that we would be OK, that I would be OK. It may seem unusual for a daughter-in-law to cling so closely to a family she married into but you have to understand, I was 20 years old when this man came  into my life. I had been married to his son for fifteen years at that point. Dad watched me and his son become thriving adults together.

Now don't get me wrong, like every family we had our issues. It wasn't all sweet memories with roses and butterflies. If I was reading a book, he got frustrated with me. He didn't understand why I would want to do that instead of spending talking to him. He used to give me lots of shit because Cliff and I had not had children. It made me angry that he continued to abuse his body with cigarettes and bad eating habits. But that's family. That's what happens and I had to accept him for better or for worse too.  At the end of the day, he was my buddy. He was my other dad.  He is still part of my heart.

The morning he took his last breath, we were all exhausted. Another thing I learned about death is that while it's on its way, the soul it's coming to get doesn't keep regular hours. They are up and down often and they need pain medicine. They need support to go to the bathroom. The body shuts down and everyone has to be there to help it. Some nights, I just held his hand while he slept or hallucinated. Believe it or not, there was laughter and love through the whole process but it was exhausting. I'm not a nurse and now I appreciate what they do.

He drew his last breath around 8:00 AM. My mother-in-law, Cliff and I were quietly talking and joking to try and lighten our spirits. There were no lights on. The sun barely cracked through the curtains giving just enough light in the living room.  The living room was the only space big enough for the hospital bed that Dad slept in. My sweet niece, Jessica,  was in the shower. I have to give a shout out to her. She was 20 years old at that time and she had been there every weekend taking shifts to help care for her Grandpa. She showed more maturity and love than I ever could have at that age and I am so proud of her. I can't imagine what that experience was like for her and she did an amazing job stepping in.

Dad breathed in and out one last time. We all looked. It was like we didn't know what to do. Cliff got up first and went to Dad's side.

"Dad?" he said quietly. Then Mom got up and went to his side. I sat in the chair just to the side of him and watched, holding my breath. Cliff felt Dad's chest first and then lay his head down to listen.

"He's gone," Cliff breathed.

"I love you, baby," Mom whispered.

Just like that, death had carried him away. There were no tremors. Trumpets didn't sound. It was just quiet. There is nothing more silent than when a soul has left and the light has gone out. Of course in those moments after, the scene from a dark comedy played itself out. Dad had requested that his false teeth be put back in after he died. He wanted to be buried with his teeth.

"I'll do it," Mom said.

Cliff helped open Dad's mouth and mom started to insert them. Cue the comedy...

"You're putting them in sideways!" Cliff exclaimed.

"No they go in this way!" Mom informed.

"Are you sure?" Cliff asked.

"I'm sure" she answered. She should know, she had her own set as well.

This moment was Dad. Dad loved to laugh and I'm sure he was somewhere laughing at us. Only this crazy family would be debating over how false teeth were supposed to go in. Dad was a funny guy so why wouldn't he have a last laugh at our expense? There was still sadness but at least the tension had broken. That's how this family works. In spite of sadness, they all get through it. When they were planning for the funeral, my husband asked about a used casket so they could get a better deal. I know this all sounds morbid, but the one thing I have learned from my in-laws is that you really can laugh through your tears.

Yesterday when I was driving into work, it hit me that it was the anniversary of his death. How could I forget? He left this world at a time of year when we're all supposed to be thankful for what we have. I cried so hard I couldn't breathe. I would have pulled over but  I was on the freeway. That's the funny thing about grief. You don't get to decide when you're going to do it. Sometimes, it just happens. I allowed myself to cry and let it all out. After that, I went on with the rest of my day and celebrated life in honor of Dad.

I miss the old fart. I miss him terribly. He was the father I didn't know I needed. He was loud, funny, annoying, and goofy. I will always remember his laugh and I will miss hugging his neck. My advice; hug your loved ones. Love them with every fiber of your being. We're not promised tomorrow and today is we all have. Happy Thanksgiving!

I love you Dad Frazee.

Reflections

Wow! I can't believe we are halfway through November. The holiday season is upon us and I find myself in a funky way. In the last few months I have tried and worked my tail off trying to grow as an actor. I have also spent time growing my business and promoting my book. I have been busy. I had hoped that one of these posts would find me bragging about another acting job booked or that I had become a best selling author. However, I'm still successful even if I feel like I'm not.

The acting thing is something I will never figure out. I am trying and I study my craft hard. This month I am doing a character study on the late Ann Miller, a famous tap dancer who made her way into Hollywood during it's Golden Era. As part of my study I have been watching hours of footage. I have also been taking tap lessons from Kate Evetts, owner and instructor at Lonestar Dance Studio in Pflugerville . Tomorrow I will present Ann to the class. So even though I am not booking and I haven't auditioned in a while, I'm enjoying the work and all that comes with being an actor. I still get sad about not being on set more but that is life.

My book is selling well but I learned that Amazon is blocking some of my good reviews. That's annoying. I had a reader reach out to me with her review because Amazon wouldn't  post it. Oh Amazon! You are the devil we know. Of course I am still pleased that I published a book and that I will have another one on the way.

In the midst of busy salon life, the owners of the salon I work at parted ways. One moved on and one kept the place going and I am so grateful. The last thing I wanted to do was change locations during the holidays with my crazy schedule. Without going into details, the split has been emotional. Things have been said and feelings have been hurt. The only thing I can say is that I am grateful for my salon family. Change is good even when we can't see it. My biggest take away is that if I allow myself, I can be spiteful and angry. These last few weeks taught me that I need to breathe and let go. I also need to respect the people around me no matter what. This too shall pass.

Mom and I are making progress. Every day I try to make sure that I am talking to her and having good conversation. I once had a friend tell me that she wished she could have one more conversation with her mother after she passed. I'm trying to do that now, you know, fill each day with love and a chat with Mom.

This season I am going to be grateful. I am blessed and I am lucky. Life is so much out of our control. The only thing I can control is myself and what I choose to watch on Netflix. Plus I can hug Cliff. These past months have taught me that I am susceptible to wallowing in self pity. I need to let that go and take life one day at a time. Yesterday is over and tomorrow does not exist. I only have today.

The Good Daughter?

"You are such a good daughter," I heard from a client the other day. In conversation it came up that my mother lives with my husband and me. Most people don't know that about me. Mom's been living with us for the last three years. I could go through the laundry list of why she is here with us but the only thing that really matters is that she needed me. In American culture we don't like to deal with family, especially parents. And rightly so. Family can be a pain in the ass. Family can be toxic. They can take advantage of you. They're the one group that you can love and hate at the same time. Sometimes you just hate them.

When I first realized that I needed to have Mom here, I was barraged with a multitude of opinions. Most of them were negative. "I can't believe you'd want your mom to live with you!" or "Just get her an apartment nearby!" However, there were also words of encouragement. "You're doing the right thing," they would say. I'm not sure what the "right" thing really is. I don't have a disposable income so getting an apartment was not an option. All I understood was that she needed me. Cliff and I braced ourselves and moved to a bigger space to accommodate her. 

Having a bigger space was just the beginning. We secured a storage for all of her stuff, and I mean ALL of her stuff. My mom is a Baby Boomer and they like to keep their stuff. They think it's super valuable ( I looked on Ebay at several items. Let's be real Baby Boomers, you all saved your stuff so it's not worth much now ). My heart strings pulled at me. Many folks gave me advice. They said, "Just give her a room and whatever she can fit in there is what she keeps!" The logic in me agreed with that advice. The heart side of me felt the sadness and loss of a life that once was. In that storage unit was 64 years of a life that had been lived. There were boxes of memories and totes full of years gone by. 

In an argument about her stuff one evening she said, "That's my life in there! That's me. It's all I have." My heart sank and my throat knotted up. Yes it's just stuff. It's junk really. But to her, it was all she had left of an independent life. Now she had moved to Texas to depend on her daughter. She was living with her kid. I'm sure  most parents don't want to live with their children. 

So the adjustments continued. I had to learn to deal with this person in my house. In the years we had lived apart, I had become a grown up. With acting, daily salon life, writing, and trying to be a wife, my schedule had no time for the old lady my mom had become. We would have to adjust everything. Privacy became a word that sounded like a magical kingdom in a land far away. Our "married" time became limited. It was like having a kid, only bigger and more cantankerous. Poor Cliff gets resentful some times.  But he handles it well and with grace. 

Six months after she moved in, something happened that made me grateful to have her here. There were no words of wisdom and Hallmark moments. Three weeks before Christmas, I was showering on a late Monday morning. It was one of the days I had off and had the luxury of taking my time. I was going to meet a friend for coffee and enjoy my day. Cliff had just left for work and I was basking in the glow of a hot shower. I was running conditioner through my hair when I heard heavy breathing outside of my shower curtain. I pulled the drape back and looked into the face of my mother. She looked pale and slightly green. Her eyes were wide and she had a slight grin. In her hand she held her vapor device. 

"Yes? What do you need?" I asked her. 

"I'm supposed to go blah ble blah," she replied. 

I asked her again and she repeated the same phrase over and over. Then she said she needed to lie down. I noticed her legs were a mess as she left the bathroom. 

"Mom! Have you been outside?" She didn't answer me. She kept on muttering and collapsed on my bed. I jumped out of the shower and threw my bath robe on. With out giving all of the gory details, I realized that she had lost control of her bowels and she had no idea where she was. She wouldn't even let me touch her. I called Cliff and told him to come back and then made the first 911 call in my life. 

"I need an ambulance," I said with calm confidence. "My mother collapsed and she's still breathing."

Before I could tell the operator what was happening, she went into a series of questions that had nothing to do with the situation at hand. I got desperate and started to panic. Then the operator said, "Mam, I need you to be quiet and listen to me."

Full panic mode set it in. This bitch as asking me questions and I needed an ambulance. I cried and started a series of swear words that is probably still hanging in that apartment today. About that time the paramedics arrived and Cliff showed up too. 

As soon as the paramedics carted her out, I ripped my robe off and got dressed as the last paramedic realized he had been flashed heading out of the door. I braided my goopy hair ( Remember I hadn't rinsed my hair ). I cancelled my coffee date and called family while following the ambulance to the hospital. In that moment the small child within realized that my mommy was mortal. She could die. I cried the whole day. I will spare you the details of her hospital stay. All you need to know is that she was septic and had to stay in ICU for a week.

So you would think that this incident would make me more patient. It did for like 10 minutes. Once she got out and things went back to normal, she got on my nerves again. Some days are a huge effort to be nice. I have seen more doctors and specialists on her behalf. They talk to both of us as they diagnose and treat every medical situation that she has. In my hectic life, I have become a care taker at 39. There are many days that I resent her. I get angry because she won't eat healthy. When she texts or calls me to pick a prescription up, I get pissed off. I shouldn't but I do. There are many days when my patience wears thin. 

Then the guilt sets in. This is my mother and she won't be here forever. I will regret every harsh word and every moment that I didn't spend with her. I marinate on those thoughts and then I get a phone call that we need butter and coffee. That woman drinks way more coffee than any one human being should. She could go get it herself but why leave the house? Who cares that I spent the day working? I'm again. See? It's a vicious cycle and now I feel guilty again.

My reprieves are nights away from home with Cliff every so often, my acting class, and the fantasy that Rob Thomas and I will sing a duet one day.  ( One day it will happen, I've seen the man in concert 5 times! ) It's the little things that get me through.

I love my mom and I wouldn't change the decision I made to have her here with me. And Cliff is a saint. I don't want to be told I'm a good daughter. I'm not. I'm just trying to pay my bills and get through life like everyone else. I'm taking care of my family. I'm not a good daughter. I'm just me. 

Do I hear a bear?

It's 4:18 in the morning and I'm up! I hate it when I wake up! I love sleep. I don't relish in insomniac behavior the way some people do. I love sleep! There is something magical and calming about the way my soft pillow feels against my cheek. The covers wrap around me with love and the sheets feel soft and amazing on my legs. My mattress is the perfect blend of softness meeting firmness. I love sleep I tell you.

So what has me up this fine EARLY morning? A few things really. A trip to the bathroom, a roast in the crockpot, and my sweet darling husband who sometimes snores loudly. Yes I said it. My pillow is just not soft enough for the rumbling and roar of the bear next me? Do I hear a bear? No! Just the growling and grumbling of my darling husband as he sucks in the ceiling. I know he can't help it. I get it. Sometimes I talk in my sleep and I can't help that. But it is disconcerting to hear a bear in the bed next to you. Some nights, he snores right into my hear as he cuddles me to the edge of our comfy bed. Then I have a hot flash and I have to kick him off of me. I'm not a body pillow for crying out loud! Get off me!

So now you are asking yourself, "Val, I thought you love that Cliff guy? After all, you even based a character on him and his great demeanor." You're right! I did. I have been married to this man for eighteen years. We got married at birth and we have managed to stay together and make it work in spite of the hardships that drive most couples apart. We work hard at this marriage thing. It's not easy and anyone who tells you it is is probably signing papers really soon. We are a team. I wouldn't trade hime for anything in the world. I really wouldn't.

This is marriage folks. It's not just a wedding party with all the frills and great cake. It's not about buying your first house or picking out a new couch together. It's bills and family members. It's waking up and taking the dog out in the middle of the night or changing that beautiful child's stinky diaper. It's having your parent move in with you because now it's your turn to take care of them. Marriage is a constant game of compromise, ups and downs, and a spouse that wakes you in the middle of the night as he shakes the whole room with his snoring.

So what's my point? Well I'm up for one. But that's not really my point. Life is precious. Even nights like these are something to be cherished. I wouldn't trade my life for anything in the world. Sure I wish I booked more acting work. I hope that my book becomes a best seller some day. I want a lot of blessings to continue to come my way. I wish I booked that show I auditioned four times for. But  these desires don't change what I have already. This gift I have that I call my every day life is what inspired me to write Unrequited. So while I'm up, I will complain but behind that complaining is gratitude. After all, bears are warm :)

I'm Lazier Than You Think...

I don't even know where to begin. The past month has flown by. My salon life has totally taken over. It's a good thing and I'm super grateful. But it has caused me to be a bit lazy in my other endeavors as an actress and a writer. Don't worry I haven't been completely lazy but I have noticed enough slacking that it has caused me to make sure I give myself a schedule. So this month I have been really exploring all the times that I waste on my phone or in front of the television. I'm not a big television watcher and some of what I do on the phone is for the work I do in all capacities. However, there are times I'm just diddling. 

I attended a hair show this past weekend in Houston and I learned a lot. Not just about new hair techniques and the benefits of social media. Don't worry, I made copious notes on the aforementioned. I also had an awakening. A reality check if you will. I learned that I can do better.  I can give more to all of my crafts and still have time with my family. I know it sounds like I am creating more work for myself. I am. But it's work I enjoy. I love being creative. Everything I do is creative including coming up with marketing strategies and ways to promote myself. What I realized is that utilizing the time I waste diddling, I will actually give myself more time to hang out with family and friends. I will give myself more luxury time. The secret? What we have all learned and what I must do even though it's the one thing frightens me. I have to go back to getting up early.

 I love my bed sooooo much. The pillows are amazing and my blanket feels fabulous hugged up around me. Laying in my cozy bed, I feel relaxed, at peace. Anything is possible. It's there that I have a lot of great ideas and moments of inspiration. The problem is that I lay there and sleep through all of that. One of the reasons I finally finished my first book is because I got up and utilized that creative energy in the morning. I also fit in more gym time. I got just as much sleep as I do now. I just got moving faster than I do now. Moving is the key to getting anything done. Move out of your comfort zone. 

I am also utilizing technology a little more. I am not only blogging from my phone now, but I have made all the tools I need accessible from my gadget. I don't know why I didn't do this before. My headshot and resume are on my phone, for example. I am able to submit to myslf for projects that my agent may not be able to every time. I can even access my demo reel link for your tube. I keep notes about my story ideas on the notepad. I make notes about color and hair/inspiration for photo shoots and for work in the salon. 

What can I say? It takes me a while. I was already starting to catch on and implement some of what I have been talking about. The awakening at the hair show has driven me to take it to the next level and to refine my work ethics more. I needed a nudge. See, I have heard that I am diverse and that I am hard worker several times in the past weeks. I need to make that ring true I my heart. It hasn't for so long. 

I'm still just me. I am going to slip now and again, but when I have moments of clarity, I get more done and I move forward. I am grabbing life my friends and taking advantage of stolen moments.

Making it through....

Some of you read my last blog and reached out to me. I was feeling blah and discouraged. It happens to the best of us. Every art form is subjective and sometimes that's hard for us artists to take. Whether you are a painter, a singer, an actor, or writer, you put yourself into your work. You have to or it's not truthful. You spend hours researching, watching the world around you, and inspiration is derived from your surroundings. As artists, we absorb so much of the world. We live in it and breathe it in. Then we transfer it to whatever medium we work in. For me that is acting and writing.

Art is also a business. The logical side of us gets that but the heart side is still bruised every once in a while. Being an actor can take an emotional toll. Being a writer can too. Someone is always watching and deciding whether or not you measure up. I am a confident person. I find strengths I never knew I had, but I still get mired down in the, "Why not me?" syndrome. It's human to do so. My reason for blogging about it last time is because I wanted to reach out to my fellow artists and to give my friends that don't express themselves in the way that I do a view point. I love my life and I am so blessed to pursue my passions on a daily basis. However, sometimes that pursuit can be exhausting and from time to time I get drained.

I haven't book an acting gig in a year. I have had several auditions that I would consider successful. What I mean by that is I know I put the work in. I learned my lines, I prepped my emotions and I went in with an open heart and mind for direction from casting. Just because I didn't book those roles does not mean I was not successful in my task. This is something I have to wrap my head around sometimes. The arts are very unpredictable. The time and preparation is key. I have to remember that there are a whole bunch of people like me floating around this community and this planet. Writers and actors are everywhere. With the dawn of self publishing and print on demand, I now know four authors, one of whom is very successful, the others are like me. They're getting there and making  it happen one day at a time.

So if I alarmed anyone, I didn't mean to. It felt right to get it off of my chest and to be truthful in my blog. That was just a snippet of what it's like to try and juggle your passions while working a day job ( that I love thank God! ). So my chin is up and my head is being held high.  i am on fire!

Once again:
Book me for work and buy my book :)

http://www.amazon.com/Unrequited-Val-Frazee-ebook/dp/B010GUXTGA/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1438817435&sr=1-1&keywords=val+frazee

www.valfrazee.com

I get discouraged

So my week has been a long and good week. I sold some books, I was busy at work, and I had an audition. Yet, I still feel discouraged. I am trying to market myself as author. I am trying to get my agent to pay attention to me. I am working my tail off at the salon. I am succeeding in many ways but I am also failing. I have wrestled with moments of doubt. I was encouraged when I was asked to audition for a local film maker. I had hoped to get a call back but alas the business side of film has prevented me from moving forward. it's hard to say why we don't get called back or why we don't get chosen.

I work hard but I know we are not rewarded. So I am now trying to move forward once again. When I check my email, I hope for an audition call from my agent. When I check my book sales, I am hopeful that I will sell one more. It's a tough world out there and it's saturated with actors and writers. I am so grateful that I get to try every day but there are times that I am exhausted by it. There are days when I think there must be something wrong with me. In fact there are a lot of days when I feel like something is wrong with me. Where is my IT factor? Maybe I never had it.

In the mean time, we just adopted a rescue dog named Benny. He is sweet and he is trying to figure out his life. When I see him, I know that I have to keep plugging along. Benny was abandoned and then rescued by a wonderful foster family. Then he was brought to us and now he has to feel his way around again. I suppose if he can do it I can too. Benny reminds me that I need to live in the moment.  I need to be grateful for what I have an know that life is full of turns.

I'm going to hang in there and I am going to give my book another shameless plug. By Unrequited.
I'm going to give my acting career a shameless plug as well: cast me, I am awesome.
Shameless plug for my hair career: let me cut your hair, I am awesome.

Now I will post a picture of my book cover and another head shot.
Here is a link to my webpage too:
www.valfrazee.com