wild*life

Tonight I’m supposed to be writing an obituary.  Which technically I’ve only done for chickens— Rest in peace Chicken Sando, Death Destroyer, Chicken Nugget, and Princess Fucillo.  Gosh, I’ve had more practice than I’d care to admit.  We really are good chicken parents.  But yes, I’m dragging my feet and watching Ted Lasso with Jacob instead.  Fútbol is life.  The universe has driven a Mack truck through my heart and I intend to wedge a size 5 soccer ball into that hole.

On Friday afternoon we went down to Avila for a pick-up game of beach soccer.  Coach knows exactly what Nate needs.  While Jacob and Nate played, I had the perfect mini visit with my longest time friend, Jamie A.  Yeah, she got the better initial.  I’m Jaimie P.  You can imagine how that went in grade school…

Jamie’s littlest son, Oliver, held his hamburger without eating eat.  Her eldest son, Jack, shook Jake’s hand and was wearing pajama pants.  They gave us delectable Meyer lemon bars, candy cane art, and a box of relaxation.  We scored front row parking spots, had a ghost pepper chip challenge, and competitive thumb wars.  The weather was perfect.

There was a moment when I felt her looking across the beach and seeing us.  Seeing our life.  Our community.  Who are all these boys and parents and dogs?

This is our soccer family.  Isn’t it great?

Today is James’ half birthday— 47 and a half.  I’m all about celebrating half birthdays.  Any excuse for cupcakes is my motto, so I made little pecan tarts.  And I love traditions.  Last night I decided on the Fucillo family tradition of hors d’oeuvres for dinner.  I made meatballs and deviled eggs and a beautiful salad.  I even hit upon a new creative breakthrough in deviled eggdom— replace the sprinkling of paprika with Tajín.  Chef’s kiss.

Last night Nate and I watched Home Alone and then we all hit the sack.  This morning we had a cozy time opening presents, drinking warm drinks, and listening to Christmas music.  I was notably impressed with myself when I got Pandora to play carols through the Sonos speakers from James’ phone with just a few clicks.  Electronics have always been James’ realm.  He generally accuses me of randomly hitting all the buttons.  And yes, I do descend from people that put black electrical tape over their blinking digital clocks.

The boys were over the moon this morning when they opened up the box for a new VR headset.  It literally looked like some kind of covert suitcase Will Smith brought back with him from space.  The boys played their new Pokémon Violet game as the VR software loaded on the PC Jacob built with his dad.

When it’s ready, Jake starts connecting all the cables.  Something’s not right.  He gets on YouTube.  Everyone on earth says it doesn’t work with adapters.  It’s hopeless.  The only way it will work is if he gets an integrated graphics card.  Or a new PC with more display ports.  Or “Mom, the only possible way it will work is if I get an entirely new motherboard.”

Christmas cannot crash and burn this quickly.  I tell him he needs to eat something and take a shower and come back to this problem.  IT issues cannot be tackled on an empty stomach.  And there’s always more than one solution to a problem.

He mopes and groans and takes a break.  While he’s gone I channel my inner James and get the instructions.  James is an insanely good follower of directions.  When it comes to electronics, I’m more of a click-on-everything-till-I-see-how-it-works-gal.  I feel a little panicky.  I used to sell multimillion dollar servers for goodness sake.  I configured quotes and tromped through data centers.

Deep breath— what would James do?

I start to follow the instructions methodically.  Jacob comes back and I ask him trial and error questions.  We talk about where the graphics card is and the monitor issue we solved ourselves earlier this week.  He notices some gray plastic rectangles on the back of the tower.  We get the little screwdriver and I try to pry one out.  They’re tough little effers, but I finally get one loose and we pop it out.  Hot damn it’s the exact HDMI port we need to connect the headset directly into the graphics card.  Christmas is saved.  Jacob high-fives me and we feel unbelievably accomplished.

Yet another mini Christmas miracle?  Thanks my sweetest half-birthday boy.  You’d be so proud.  I didn’t even push any buttons.

When I was five, my mom tricked me into playing soccer by telling me my best friend Zoë was going to play, and then her mom, Lela, told Zoë I was going to play.  We were the only two girls on our team in those days.  Apparently I would stand on the field, shut my eyes, and turn my face to the side as the soccer mob swarmed me and kept on going.  Good thing that never came up when I was trying out for varsity.

When I met James, he was into baseball.  Which turned into softball.  Which everyone knows is just a league for drinking beer.  Many years later, after a few seasons with the intensity of the baseball dads, James switched his allegiance to the one, true football.

Then in 2018, he’d heard about the Manchester City All or Nothing series on Netflix.  We developed a family crush on Kevin De Bruyne and have been loyal fans ever since.  Premier League games, the FA Cup, the Carabao cup, and the Champions League have brought us so much joy through regular ol’ Wednesdays, weekends, and the occasional hospital stay.

James always took special care to get the boys FIFA World Cup books and the associated player stickers.  This year he bought a big box of stickers and would surprise Nate with a handful of packs here and there.  Nate studies these guys like he’s preparing for a PhD.  He knows their home countries, what languages they speak, which teams they play for, the positions they play, and their FIFA ratings.  After we gave most of the sticker dupes to our cousins in Hawaii, James told Nate about the Panini website where he could pick out the exact 50 players he wanted for $20.  He spent one evening choosing all 50 and then double checking his work on the computer.

Nate then spent every day asking if his Panini stickers had been delivered.  He got both Uncle B and Uncle Geoff to check the mailbox with him several times.  Fortunately, we found the tracking number and it said they were shipping from Italy.  Unfortunately, it said it could take 30-40 days— a lifetime when you’re eleven.  A few days ago we checked again and they’d finally made it to New York.

This morning as we’re driving out the road for a lunch of finger foods at Novo and a stroll around downtown, Nate petitions for a stop at the mailbox.  As we’re pulling up, we boost our Panini prayers with a shout out to our best Dad.  We love you James.

And he delivered.  It felt like a miracle.  Just in time for Christmas.

It’s Christmas Eve morning and here I am creating a project plan.  Don’t judge.

One of the things I’m really good at is recognizing what other people are good at.  And bringing lots of people together to make something happen.  So this morning James’ little brother, Uncle Brett, who has always been the most musical, and of course younger and cooler, has been promoted to Chief Music Officer.  This role involves compiling our playlist.

I know there may be lots of people with song requests so I’m putting this out there 2022-style— via a Google doc.  Please add to the Song Requests list on Tab 1.  Try not to delete or write over other people’s additions.  No other instructions required— you got this.

Jill— I expect you’ll help to get us started PYT.

Uncle B at our wedding, May 4, 2002

I’ll never forget my first commute to my new job in San Luis Obispo, almost seven years ago.  I drove down this beautiful mountain, past fields and vineyards, and the most contented cows.  The sky was crystal clear.  I passed the octagon barn and pulled into the parking lot just twelve minutes from home.

Please save the date for a Celebration of James’ Life on Saturday, January 28th, 2023.  It will take place at SLO’s Historic Octagon Barn and will be a special time for music, stories, food, and memories.  Please join us and help me show our boys how much they are loved and the impact their dad had on so many people.

Photo credit: Kirsten Bullard Photography, Paso Robles

On Tuesday night, December 20th, we lost our heart, our soul, our James.  There is more to say, just not today.

So yesterday I gave the boys the choice to attend their last day of school before the winter break, or to call-in a “mental health” day.  Jacob chose to go to school, and Nathaniel chose a Nate Date with me.  We dropped Jake at Laguna and then went to Scout to have cookies for breakfast.  We had our favorite lemon pistachio shortbread and fancy hot chocolates with whipped cream and latte art.  After a quick stop for gas and the drive-through carwash with the infinite blowdryer, we grabbed a soccer ball at home and headed to Avila beach.  The sky was crystal clear.  We explored two driftwood forts and played a bit of two touch against the overpass wall.  After our walk, Nate decided we should go Christmas shopping downtown, particularly for Williams-Sonoma peppermint bark and presents for his brother.  On our way home we made one last stop to look at backpacks at REI and endured the 1-star customer service experience currently on sale at Best Buy.

As soon as I pulled into our driveway, I noticed an alert on my phone.  It said my small magnetic wallet had detached from the back of my iPhone and was at the SLO Promenade.  Totally what I need— to lose my primary credit card and my driver’s license.  I don’t have enough projects…

Nate and I race back to the parking lot while he watches the “Find My” app to make sure my wallet isn’t on the move.  We check the parking spots where we were parked.  It says it’s at the corner of Buffalo Wild Wings.  We never went anywhere near B Dubs but that’s what it shows.  I ask a homeless man if he’s seen it.  Poor guy’s got nothin’.  We search the bushes.  I’m convinced someone has taken my cards and thrown the magnetic wallet into this trash filled landscaping.

As I’m driving home and kicking myself, I can hear James saying, “Geez Jame.  How did you do that?”  Just shaking his head.  And then I can’t help thinking, “You’re supposed to be looking out for me!”  And then I conclude, maybe he’s just busy checking-in or something?…  I cancel my card and order a new license for $31.

Nate and I watch the World Cup final overtime and penalty kicks, and then it’s time to go back down the hill to pick-up Jacob.  We’re waiting in the golf course parking lot and Jake jumps into the back seat.  First thing he says, “Mom, why’s your wallet back here on the floor?”

Funny, Jame.  Very funny.

January 2017, Avila Beach

December 2022, Avila Beach

After a night of hourly wake-ups, we had a leisurely Late-Start Monday morning.  Over breakfast Nate’s assessing yesterday’s tournament competition.

He says, “You know when I made that one free kick from outside the box?”

“Yeah, it was a nice one.”

“The ref came up to me afterward and was like, ‘Have you ever made a shot that beautiful before?'”

“So what’d you say?”

“Yeah.

And then the ref fist-bumped me.”

Well, we crushed the Paso Robles Grape Crush.  This year’s All Stars team, SLO United, may just give last year’s Legends a run for their money.  Nate wasn’t so sure this team could live up to it— but after winning the final against Templeton 12-1, he might have changed his mind.

Aunt Laurie and Terra came to visit today with Baby Barrett.  I’m told Barrett was bumping James goodbye and leaned down for a big hug.  Babies have always loved James.  Barrett has the sweetest blue eyes.

While Nate, Granddad and I braved the marathon day of soccer games, Uncle Brett and Erin spent time with their big brother.  Jacob went to see the new Avatar movie with friends, and we all came home to a tasty dinner together.

This morning after James’ shower he was pulling on the door while I was pulling on the door.  He smirks and I realize he’s torturing me.  “Are you messing with me?”  I chide.

“We have to have some humor about the town” he teases.

Today James went on a short field trip down to Avila Beach with his friend Andre, while I spent the morning in Paso at Nate’s first All Stars Tournament.  James was wiped-out by the time I came home— I never did hear how it went, but I’m told it was a beautiful morning.

Meanwhile, Nate and I headed out at 6:30AM.  At the top of the grade we hit Central Valley tule fog, which makes for limited visibility and a surreal driving experience.  It was so thick at the soccer complex, we struggled to see our team on the other side of the field.  It was a balmy 32 degrees.

SLO United handily beat Lompoc 15-0.  Our coach got a talking to from the tournament director, long before the first half ended.  They were not the Lompoc we’re used to.  Then 5 Cities brought more of a challenge, which you can count on.  We were down 1-0 at the half and it was feeling a bit dicey.  But we won the game 5-1.  Whatever Coach said at halftime made a difference.  Tomorrow there are three more games to determine who crushed the Grape Crush.

I had some quality time with Granddad, Devon, Alesia, and Sarah.  We had sushi tonight with Uncle B.  James had some party girl roll and then went back to sleep.  The field trips were a nice change— hopefully we sleep well tonight.

Before his last nap James declared, “Goodnight my loves!”

Goodnight my love.

It’s Friday and everyone’s happier on Fridays.  It’s a thing.  The boys headed off to school.  I had a short break to run some errands.  James took a walk around the grass outside with Nonna and Aunt Laurie.  And this afternoon, we had a video call with Dr. Uslander.

My longtime loyal reader can certainly attest that this is not an activist blog.  Rarely do I use it as a place to argue a perspective or rail against <insert crazy world problem here>.  But over the last few weeks, James and I have learned a lot about a lot.  And there are some things that would have been easier to digest waaaaaay before ever having received the worst news of our lives so many years ago.

One of those things is the California End of Life Option Act or EOLOA.  It’s a law that went into effect in 2016 and was amended in January of this year.  I knew that Oregon had this law, but wasn’t aware that we’ve also had it on the books for almost seven years.  Ultimately, it allows a terminally ill patient to choose the ability to get a prescription they can drink that puts them to sleep forever.  It provides people with a level of control, dignity, and compassion during the hardest and most uncertain experience of their lives.

While at the hospital and weighing all of the options, we asked countless doctors and nurses for more information.  We got stricken eyes obscured by medical masks.  We got evasive answers.  We got stuttering and sidestepping and elusive procrastination.  Every California health system has a website dedicated to supporting this option, but in practice, the stigma was palpable.  I was stunned.  We can’t have more compassion for our animals than we do for our loved ones.

Having spent eight straight days at one of the world’s premier medical institutions, confronting the most complex and deadly diseases imaginable, embracing leading science and the most current philosophies and practices— how could they be so inept?  When you’re watching your very best friend in the entire world suffer intolerable pain, you can only think about making sure they have access to every option available.

Somehow we are insanely fortunate to know people who know people and we were connected to the kindest doctor out of San Diego less than twenty minutes after a conversation with my next door neighbor.  This doctor is an expert and an advocate for this unspoken work.  He brought deep professionalism, caring, and the gift of his complete attention and time.  As we wrapped-up today’s consultation, James said he likes having a plan that he can execute against.  He emphasized how the conversation brought him a sense of control, certainty, and peace.

And that’s all I can ask for my very best friend.