Reminders of Love

“For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God.” – Colossians 3:3

 

“Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.” – Galatians 6:2

 

“If a man has a hundred sheep, and one of them has gone astray, does he not leave the ninety-nine on the mountains and go in search of the one that went astray? And if he finds it, truly, I say to you, he rejoices over it more than over the ninety-nine that never went astray.” – Matthew 18:12-13

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It’s okay to cry

It’s the third night in a row I’ve come home to process my day with a glass of wine (oh, cursed calories that soothe me so) and my trusty laptop.

So here we go.

 

Over the past two days, I’ve come close to crying for two strangers. I didn’t. For the record, I would call myself an emotional person; I don’t think “stoic” has ever been used to describe me. Even so, I’ve learned to turn off the tears in public situations. At least, most of the time.

But tonight, a victim who was seriously wounded in Saturday’s crash braved the public and his own pain of losing the girl he loved… to honor her and his friend.

matt hardy

I fought to keep my hands still and my breathing to a minimum as I held the camera. Once photographers were finally called to head back to the media box, my lungs filled with air and my eyes with tears.

[I am thankful to my friend Erin, who held me to her side as I wept… and then brought myself back to a calm state.]

And the rest of the night, I was tear-free.

Sometimes it must be bottled up, other times it will sneak out before you can stop and grab it back. As a journalist, am I able to just let myself go? For whatever reason, extreme emotion seems taboo.

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This weekend I had the privilege of listening to Ira Glass¬†in person.* Glass is the host of NPR’s “This American Life,” a phenomenal show I recommend (obviously, by the adjective). In his talk in Troy, he expressed gratefulness that he was a journalist on the radio because it allowed him to show and articulate certain emotions in a way that broadcast journalists couldn’t. He gave the specific instances of humor and surprise.

 

I envy that.

I love to laugh, and if you listen to many interviews I conduct, funny comments will elicit a hearty “ha, ha!” from me. I just can’t help myself! Do those guffaws get included in the final story for air? Rarely.

Tears too, are out of the question. Broadcast journalists are expected to empathize, but not exaggerate. To be caring, yet composed. To sympathize in moderation. Restraint is the rule.

Today, I broke it.** And I don’t care.

 

Tell me again, why can’t we share?

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*More posts to come on his words.

**So did my colleague.

Good Tweetings

I start with a quick apology. I planned for this next post to be about the inundation of difficult news stories when working at a 24-hour statewide cable network (wow, I made that sound really boring), but a little blue bird network got in the way ^_^

For good reason.

I actually own a shirt that resembles the Twitter bird. Here's to you, Larry!

I actually own a shirt with a strong resemblance to the Twitter bird. Here’s to you, Larry!

I thank Twitter¬†tonight for lifting so many hearts that were downcast by many incidents of tragedy. In addition to the fatal Northway crash, a Mechanicville Marine was killed in combat in Afghanistan¬†this weekend. I actually learned of his death last night, after spending a whole day fighting to address the deaths of Chris Stewart and Deanna Rivers in a respectful and honorable fashion. I couldn’t write about it though because it wasn’t confirmed. Anyway, all this… left me with little to keep going.

 

Then: tonight happened.

You’ve likely seen updates as to what has happened, but here’s the brief story:

Matt Hardy is a football player at Shenendehowa High School. His girlfriend Deanna Rivers was one of the two killed in a crash involving alcohol Saturday night. Hardy is recovering from his serious injuries. As a way of giving him joy, his friends began a campaign to get #TebowCallMatt to trend nationwide on Twitter… and then, of course, have Mr. Tim Tebow call the teenager.

With thousands in support, the topic was seen on the far left menu column within minutes.

Soon after, the New York Jets’ QB dialed.

#TebowCalledMatt

#TebowCalledMatt

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There are so many lessons to be taken away from this story.

1. Tim Tebow is a good man.

2. The friends and family and anyone who tweeted #TebowCallMatt (and the sequential #MissyCallBailey and #DaleyCallBailey) are wonderful people.

3. That means there are a TON of amazing people out there.

4. Twitter is powerful ūüôā

5. There is always hope.

6. _______________________ (your takeaway)

And the list goes on.

We fight very hard to understand the incomprehensible in life, and sometimes it is futile. In those times, may we keep seeking messages and displays of hope.

 

Just like these tweeters did.

#ThankYou518

The news you don’t want to report, but have to

This post may seem extremely obvious. As plain-as-the nose-on-your-face obvious. Nonetheless, writing this out is helping me heal from today.

News is a double-edged sword as a career. There are its shining moments, where you are able to shed light on criminal activity and corruption or highlight the beauty of a human soul. Then there are the destructive stories, where you challenge humanity, fairness and many other life questions that don’t always have pleasant answers.

Today was one of the latter.

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Chris Stewart and Deanna Rivers

Chris Stewart and Deanna Rivers

If you haven’t heard already, two seniors at Shenendehowa High School¬†were killed in a fatal car crash last night (Saturday). Their two significant others, also young students at local schools, were seriously injured. The man who police believe to be responsible is expected to face charges: two counts of vehicular manslaughter or criminally negligent homicide. More of YNN’s coverage here.

In any crucial news story like this, I’m constantly prowling for information, discussing what other resources we can tap into, poring over Facebook profiles and Twitter to find tidbits about the subject of a story.

If it sounds somewhat stalker-like, well, it is.

If it sounds somewhat stalker-like, well… it is.

A news station’s goal is to be able to provide as many intimate details of a person so that ALL can understand who he/she is.

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These efforts aren’t automatic and mechanical, though. At least, they weren’t today. Personally, they were punctuated by moments of heartache, seconds of quick prayer, a hard swallow to stop tears from forming in my eyes.

As jaded as I have become – and will continue to be – I can’t forget pain. Who is really able to?

It’s a battle to be able to put emotions aside for a few minutes to dig into the facts of a story, and then return to the emotional numbness for just a few snatches of time before you get back to your work. It is our duty to get the facts out there.

All this… is part of my job.

 

… quite the challenge, the journalism profession.

 

Also, all this was further perpetuated by MORE BAD NEWS. That’s to come in the next post.

Change: A Choice

It’s been quite the year.

In the many moments of contemplation, reflection and assessment, a small thought came to mind that I thought I’d share. It followed the discovery of this bumper sticker:

Now I’m going to pull a switcheroo ūüôā

I say: “Struggle is inevitable. Change is an option.

Undeniably, change is a part of life. I think that’s what the creator of the original slogan had in mind. There’s no way to predict the valleys¬†or mountains that suddenly appear on the horizon or even right on your doorstep. As humans, most of us bristle at the unexpectedness we have to wade our way through. Change is not easy. So we struggle.

Remember, I said, ‘we.’¬†I struggle with mental, emotional, physical battles¬†on a day-to-day basis. And I have no doubt that there will be more struggles with every flip of the calendar.

Amid all that, there is a choice. Many, in fact. Those decisions range from “Will I continue to struggle?” to “What can I avoid to make this easier?” The most important question though:

“What am I to learn from this?”

We can choose to change. We can choose to not make the same mistake again that leads to such suffering. We can choose to turn the other cheek. We can choose to fight harder. We can choose to not allow others to struggle like us. In doing so, we can make the choice to change for the better.

A lot of options. They’re yours to select. I’m still working through my choice now.

The First Time I Took Pictures of Food

You know who they are. You may even be one. They’re the person sitting at the table next to you, blinding you with their flash (if they’re fairly new at this) or exclamining, “Don’t take a bite yet! I need a picture!”

I have¬†adamantly¬†refused to be¬†a¬†phood photographer (food fotographer?) despite the many restaurants I’ve patronized. For me, the memory of a meal is powerful enough that I¬†don’t need to hold onto the image. Nor do I ever go back and look at pictures of plates.¬†Food porn? Nope, not aroused.

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This week, I broke my self-promise.

In two days, I had two of the best meals I’ve had in the Capital Region. Each made up of multiple courses. Each with carefully chosen wine pairings (or beer, if your tummy wanted hops). Each wowing me with the¬†rich flavors and the delicate notes.

(Here’s where some of you might get a little¬†too excited, in my humble opinion):

1st course: delightfulness I still dream about

The rest of the 5 farm-to-table courses

Braised short rib atop celery puree. Fried leeks crown the course.

Yes. I took photos. Gahh!

 

The first meal was a collaboration between Creo and All Over Albany. We heard from local farms in my inaugural farm-to-table dinner. I could go on and on about the food, but just check out the menu here.

Hearing from Creo’s owner & chef and local farmers

Then I attended my first ever dinner party at a new friend’s new home. The Culinary Institute of America graduate took my breath away with her elegance, thoughtfulness and creativity in this event. Truly¬†an event.

A gorgeous place setting. Told you it was legit.

Party of Twelve (not Five)

The lovely hostess serving her selected wine

I couldn’t help but be unfaithful to myself during these meals. Somehow¬†– before the first course was even served –¬†my camera was in one hand, my iPhone in the other.

 

But I wasn’t snapping shots because I had never eaten food like this before.

The plates were unique. The bites, blissful. The gastronomic value, sky-high. However, here’s why I adored these two meals so dearly.

New foodie co-adventurer

Fussylittleblog + me + friend Evan

Hostess with the most-est ‚̧

It’s the people who made these plates worth saving. The love and passion in each dish, the careful planning of all the courses, the fascinating conversation over the cuisine: these are the snapshots of the night that¬†I don’t want to lose.

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Now it’s time to put away my camera.

 

At least, until the next dinner party.

those three little words

… that pack a big punch.

I’m going to stray away from my random newsgathering-related rambles and tackle one of the most written-about subjects of all time.

yup. you got it.

To be honest, I’m not planning on questioning its significance or how one recovers from heartbreak or any of its deeper profound moments. I just wanted to write an entry as an ode to those three words that can make or break our lives.

Today I learned that a friend¬†heard those words from a man she cares about this past weekend, and for the first time, no less!¬† I yelped in excitement, I giggled, and even ran over to give her a hug. She was, in her words, “on Cloud 9.”

I’ve gone through my share of pain due to love, but when I saw someone who stepped into that place of being deeply and openly cherished for the first time, my heart leapt in mutual joy.

To know love, to live love, and to give it is one of the greatest parts of our lives on earth. Call me a sap, but even if I’m not the one all aflutter, I can’t help but celebrate its¬†vibrancy in those around me. Love is an action. Love is a decision. Love is purposeful. The list goes on.

To wrap up:

“As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Abide in my love.” – John 15:9

and to those of you who know me well:

I love you.