A New Day

I want to apologize for my post on Valentine's Day. Obviously I was having a bad day. But the truth is that none of us are pathetic. Some of us spend the day of love without a boyfriend or girlfriend, husband or wife, life companion, etc. But that doesn't mean we're alone. We have our friends, our family, and the people we spend every day with. If nothing else, we should remember God's love on that day, as it really is St. Valentine's Day. So again, I'm sorry to bring everyone down with my three lines of sadness.

However, I have to say that today didn't go much better... I started off my day with Social Sciences, where we finished watching a truly beautiful Spanish film about a man who is paralyzed from the neck down and is fighting for his "right" to kill himself by means of euthanasia. This film left me with a few tears rolling down my face as I watched the Roman take his poison and die. Afterwards, we discussed the film and our own personal standings on the issue of euthanasia. And that is something that I am very passionate about. The life issues have always had a special place in my heart since I lost my aunt to suicide when I was a young girl. After her death, and then the death of Nick this year, I have been fragile to the issues. And when we talked about it today, for some reason I just could not contain myself. After I expressed my standing on the issue, in very broken French, since I found it difficult to find the words I wanted to use, I couldn't help but break down into silent tears. Talia was sitting next to me and she was the only one who noticed. I rushed the bathroom as soon as the bell rang and cleaned myself up, and I thought I was ok, but then as soon as I had to face people again, the waterworks began again. For some reason I just could not pull myself together for more than a few seconds. And to make matters worse, everyone was asking me if I was ok, but I couldn't even open my mouth to answer because I didn't want to make a scene. Then I had French class, where I had to take part in another oral presentation. I really didn't think it was going to happen, as my eyes were starting to well up again. At the beginning of my French class, Madame Gallo noticed that I was crying (again) and asked if I wanted to talk to her for a minute in the hall. I said yes and got up and followed her outside. I got out there and just let go and sobbed, thoughts of Nick and Aunt Sharon rushing through my head. You know sometimes things don't completely hit you all the way the first time. Or maybe they do, but you're so much more fragile than you think you are. Regardless, my entire composure was cracked, and Madame Gallo saw that. I asked her if I could speak English, and she yes and I poured the whole story out to her. And I have to say, I love Madame Véronique Gallo with all of my heart because she helped me so much. She comforted me and then told me that if I wanted to, I could go home early instead of staying for class. I decided that was best, since there was no way I would be able to get through the class, let alone the presentation, without making a total fool of myself. So I got my things together and went outside to the bus stop. The fresh air was cold today, but the sun was shining and it did me a load of good. I went home and very briefly explained to my host mom why I was home and hour early because I started crying again. She was with Léo and she understood entirely. So I went up to my room and calmed myself down once again.

I spent the rest of the morning finishing my book, "Memoirs of a Geisha". That is a wonderful book and I highly recommend it. I then went downstairs and spent some time with my host parents and Léo, ate a Belgian version of a Hot Pocket, and then went upstairs for a quick cat nap before joining my host dad and Olivier for the real event of the day: cooking a birthday dinner for my host mom! We had decided to make a Lebanese meal since she really likes Lebanese food and I was given the task of making spinach pies, which I gladly accepted. We did the grocery shopping and then I went right to it! It took me four hours to make a half batch, but I did it! And thoroughly enjoyed it too. We had no rolling pin, so I had to improvise and used the olive oil bottle, but it worked and I ended up making a decent amount. We also couldn't find allspice, but I improvised on that too... Hopefully, there will leftovers tomorrow! We haven't eaten the dinner yet, so I'll have to give details tomorrow on the rest of the food.

Usually I make cake. This time I made a real Lebanese dish from my heritage. And it made me very happy to do so.

Obviously I've had a rough couple of days. But I got through it with my family back home and my family here supporting me. Not to mention my amazing friends, both American and Belgian. Special thanks goes out to Miss Kaitlyn Dessoffy, Mademoiselle Romane Robert, Mademoiselle Lucie Gérard, Madame Gallo, my wonderful parents and sister, Miss Sandy Veres, and Miss Kaitlyn Conners, among many many others who have done great things for me over these past couple days. Also thank you to my readers. Just the very fact that you read my blog and support me means a lot to me. I love you all and you rock my world, no matter which part of it I'm in!

Until tomorrow, everyone. Love you!!!!

La Toussaint

Today is November 1st. In the States, this is "All Saints Day". Here, it translates to "La Toussaint". This is the day where we remember all of those people who have died and we celebrate their lives.

In honor of this day, I went with my host family to my host grandparents' house. But this time it was the parents of my host dad. I really did not want to go, though, because last night I found myself really not feeling well during dinner, to the point where I stopped eating entirely because my body was screaming at me. I went up to bed and when I woke up this morning, I still wasn't feeling well. It was a really weird stomach ache that came in waves. Just the thought of doing things or going places or eating (cause I was hungry) caused my body to yell NO at me. So I wasn't feeling like going to a lunch where there would be plenty of food that just looking at it would make me queasy... But I went anyways, met the family, and had some smalltalk conversation before the meal. The crowd consisted of me and my host parents and brothers, my host dad's parents, uncle, and a cousin (who, by the way, was wearing PURPLE PANTS) and his girlfriend. I spent a lot of time talking to her. She was very nice and we talked about a lot of different things. It was kind of hard for me though, because everyone kept offering me wine and food, but the very thought of it made me feel queasy. And I felt like I was being very rude, but nobody seemed to understand that I just really did not feel well. Although my host grandmother did give me some sort of herbal remedy medication...

Luckily, by the time we were ready to eat, I was feeling decent enough to take small portions and eat a full meal. We started off with a vegetable soup. Then we had a sort of meatloaf that had bacon on top of it, cauliflower, another sort of vegetable who's name escapes me (we do not have that in Parma, Ohio), cooked pears with a sort of cherry jelly in the middle of them, and of course, frites. Overall, the meal was very good. We finished it with a cake that my host dad had made that had pears in it. That was delicious, as usual.

After dinner, we spent a little time talking, walking around the garden, and trying not to freeze to death in the cold Belgian air. Then most of us went over to the church around 3pm for the Stations of the Cross. I understood nothing, but I recognized the Hail Mary and said that prayer a few times to myself. We then went over to the cemetery, and that's where I about cracked.

Cemeteries here are so different from in the States. Obviously, they serve the same purpose. But walking into that cemetery, first of all, it was quite a bit smaller. But the graves were not. Not by any means. Every single one was raised out of the ground, with giant plaques coming out of the ground, intricately carved with the persons name and different figures and designs. Most were marble and some had huge cross statues as well. Some had the pictures of the people on the tombstone as well. They were huge and beautiful and detailed and just overwhelming. Not to mention that every single grave was COVERED in flowers. Just covered. And I don't mean people came by and dropped a single rose. I mean HUGE bouquets of flowers everywhere. People had also put plaques with messages on them on the graves. It was astounding. And nobody in that cemetery was crying. Everyone was having conversation, smiling, and praying for their loved ones. It almost made ME cry, because it was just seeing how much the people really do care about the people that they lost. They have mourned the loss, and now they celebrate the life that they lived. It was amazing. I can't even really describe how it made me feel because it was all just so new to me. I am used to going to cemeteries, walking around quietly, solemnly, grieving. Crying. Searching through tiny little stones that are flat against the ground, maybe with the occasional forgotten flower tossed towards it. This was so far from that... It truly was a celebration of life and remembrance. Overwhelming. And beautiful.

And now, I sleep well, knowing that the ones that I have lost, that I love, are happy in heaven with God. And I think fondly of them, and celebrate their lives.

The Saddest Day...

It's amazing how quickly good, even great, days can change. How one tiny email can completely throw your entire mood into reverse.

In all honesty, today was great. Last night was great. This weekend was great. I had the day off today. And I went to Brussels with my host mom and Mikayla for an exhibition about America.

But I can't blog about that today. Because when I got home, I got some terrible news in an email from my mother.

I don't know how much I can disclose at the moment, but I think I can give the bare minimum of information. A person in my life died last night. They took their own life. My best friend's brother. And I found out about two hours ago. And I have never felt more lost, more alone, more helpless, more useless, or more empty in my entire life. I can't even describe what I'm feeling right now. It's taking so much effort to even write this post, because I find that I can't even finish sentences. My brain is mush. I am in utter shock and I can't handle this. I can't even imagine what everyone back home is feeling. If there was one thing in the world that I could have right now, it would be that I could be home, comforting my loved ones as we go through this incredible loss. I wish that I could be with my best friend, because I know if it were me, I would want her to be there for me too. I wish that I could be there for her. I wish that I could be a comfort to her. I wish that this hadn't happened.

But as we all know so well, wishing is useless.

Because nothing ever changes.

And I'm stuck here in Belgium, wishing.

And nothing is changing.