Ever since getting to know Chris’s parents, it’s always been a conscious or subconscious thought in my head how differently they react to different situations than my own parents do. When we didn’t make it in time for our connecting flight to Melbourne and had to be re-routed through Sydney, Chris’s parents both messaged us, letting us know that it’s all right; we have increased segments and status credits to look forward to, and perhaps we could also enjoy the Sydney lounge! There’s nothing to worry about!

In the same situation with my parents, they would probably worry, complain about the missed connection and not think about anything that could remotely be good about the situation. It’s a constant contrast for me to see how positive his parents are versus how negative mine are. It’s comical when I see how positive Chris’s parents are because all I can do is literally laugh out loud and want to pinch myself to convince myself that this is all real, and these are real life reactions to real life situations.

According to my Tripit stats for 2014, I’ve been on the road for 84 days so far this year. On 18 trips, I’ve traveled to 34 cities in seven different countries. I never even though about it much until I looked at the stats on this app’s page. I’m such a spoiled brat.

I flew down to Atlanta today to participate in “team building” activities with an agency client, and with my boss, hosted a team holiday party. At the Painted Pin, where we played games, bowled, ate and drank, a few of my clients gave me a hard time about not telling them about my recent engagement. I’m not sure how you suavely tell clients that you don’t see face to face every day that you are engaged, so I just started calling Chris my “fiance” one day, and they figured it out. And of course, they made me tell them the engagement story.

“Wait, you got engaged in Brazil during the World Cup?” they shrieked. “Didn’t you just say that you were in Europe for Thanksgiving and are going to be in Australia for Christmas? Can you just legally adopt us now because we want your life!!”

I really am a very blessed, privileged person, and in the last two years, I’ve thought about it more than ever, particularly given the hardships I’ve encountered. Sometimes, it really does take the worst in life to put things into perspective. I never thought that at the age I am now that I’d be traveling as often as I do for both work and pleasure, and that I’d have seen this much of my country and the world now. For a long time, it was just a wistful dream. It’s a funny thing when your dream becomes a reality.

It’s been exactly one year and four months since Ed passed away. I never would have thought that at exactly this moment in time, my dad would have had double bypass surgery, finally gotten discharged from the hospital after nine nights, and be back home recovering in his own home with my mom and me. I also never would have thought that he’d finally acknowledge after all these years exactly how freezing this house is, and that the heat actually does need to be turned on. He was coughing uncontrollably when we got home and we finally realized he was coughing so much because of all the cold air circulating throughout the house. Once the heat was turned on to 72 degrees Fahrenheit, his coughing calmed down and he was able to breathe comfortably.

Ed would have been happy to know that our father was recovering quickly from his heart surgery. I think he may have even secretly been more excited that my dad finally acknowledged he was wrong about the temperature of the house and finally decided to voluntarily turn on the heat. He’d probably even be in disbelief right now if he were here to see and experience this himself.

Our dad is finally home, though. He’s survived the scary surgery with flying colors, and he won’t be joining Ed anytime soon. That’s right. My dad is getting closer to his 150^th birthday like I said he would. It’s a good moment today.

My younger uncle and my dad have never really gotten along. It stems from seemingly ridiculous childhood problems and their respective high levels of stubbornness. In my family, everyone loves to blame each other, and no one ever wants to admit fault — at least, out loud to others.

I guess it had to take a family history of heart disease to get these two to start reaching out to one another. They both saw their older brother pass away from a heart attack 14 years ago at just 65 years of age, and then my uncle had his angiogram two months ago that revealed his blocked artery, which prompted my dad to call him. And ultimately, it was my uncle who suggested to my dad that he get the stress test and angiogram done, which led to my dad’s bypass surgery this past week.

My uncle visited for the second time tonight, and he spent two hours in my dad’s room with us and my aunt, talking about childhood memories, recent events, and my grandpa’s position in the U.S. Navy during World War II. For the first time, I found out that my grandpa went to Okinawa to fight during the war, and he got within 10 inches of some sharp object that almost killed him. He apparently kept it and brought it back to the U.S. with him after the war — as a reminder of how close he came to death and how precious life is.

My dad and uncle were laughing so hard at a few points that my dad had to ask everyone to calm down because he was afraid his laughter would open up his chest incision. It was amazing to see them both laughing so freely together. It looked and felt natural — I couldn’t believe it.

Is this what it takes for two hostile brothers to reconcile? It’s never too late. This surgery will save my dad’s life — and perhaps even my dad’s relationship with his younger brother. Here’s to hoping we’re all moving in a positive direction for both.

I hate hospitals. They smell funny, have stale air, and just have a general aura of “ugh.” Bacteria are everywhere here, and everyone constantly is squirting alcohol or some form of antibacterial gel on their hands. Today, I saw a happy man carrying a big basket of flowers and balloons that read “It’s a GIRL!” It was likely to a new mother in one of the patient rooms. The idea of having to give birth to a child in a hospital just makes me seriously think about wanting to have a midwife and have a water birth in the comfort of my own future bath tub.

I just spent the night at the hospital in the Cardiovascular Intensive Care Unit with my dad. I slept on and off throughout the night awkwardly in a chair next to him. My mom and I are taking turns staying with him each night until he gets home. Today, he was transferred out of the ICU into a regular room because his blood pressure has returned back to normal. All I have to say is, I cannot wait until he is well enough to come back home. I’m so exhausted.

My mom has a church service to attend tomorrow morning, and because she doesn’t want my dad to stay alone too long (the nurses didn’t give him his lunch until 2pm today while I was out with my friend, so she was furious), I said I’d arrive at the hospital before she leaves in the morning. My dad insisted he was fine and says that he can take care of himself. “Why do you want to come again tomorrow?” he said to me. “Because I want to see you, doofus!” I exclaimed. “Why do you think I came home?!” He laughs, along with my mom, aunt, cousin and his wife, who are visiting.

Sometimes, my dad is so clueless. But his progress is making me feel really proud now.

After getting some chores and work done this morning, my aunt and I came back to the hospital to see my dad. My mom looked as though she had just spent the night dodging bullets, and my dad… Well, he looked like he just had heart surgery. I’d never seen him more frail in my life. He initially was so weak this morning that when the nurse asked him if he was ready to take a walk, he laughed and said, ‘No way!” His voice was weak, and he said his chest hurt every time he spoke due to the incision there from the surgery. Later in the morning after I arrived, he became more animated and alert, and he said he was up for a walk. He did not one lap but two laps around the ICU, and he said he could do another and feel fine, but the nurses said he should sit back down. Clearly, he was very proud of himself.

“How do you feel, Daddy?” I asked him today. “Do you feel like you have a new heart?”

He said he felt good, just very tired and a bit dizzy. The only pain he felt was from the chest incision. The nurse said that would take some time to heal, but the pain was completely normal. I asked him what it felt like between the period of getting sedated and then waking up after surgery.

“That Wednesday before the surgery… I was really scared,” he finally admitted. “I had no idea what was going to happen.” He then told me that wasn’t fully the truth because he spent a few days before reading all about the surgery and even watched a few bypass surgery videos on YouTube. Yes, that’s the kind of person my dad is. He wants to know everything and even see the gruesome stuff.

“Well, I didn’t watch the entire surgery,” he insisted. “I can’t handle that kind of stuff after a certain point!”

He said that after he fell asleep from the anesthesia, he felt like he was in one long sleep, like a coma. He said he dreamt he was in some place he didn’t recognize, and he said he had no idea which direction to go in. The next thing he knew, he was waking up, and he saw my mom sitting in a chair looking over him. Then it hit him: he survived.

“I know heart disease runs in this family,” he said. “Ever since I turned 64, I kept thinking… how much longer do I have? When is it (a heart attack) going to happen?”

It’s a scary reality to think about, but I’m so thankful that my dad had this surgery and every procedure and test before it that led up to this. Like my boss says, it’s like Life 2.0 for him. He has a new and renewed heart, and another shot at life. This surgery is “standard” for so many people now due to technological advances. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier being part of today’s world than the last 24 hours. My dad is going to be healthy and happy soon.

Did you hear that, Ed? Daddy’s on the road to recovery. He won’t be joining you anytime soon, but I know you aren’t upset about that. I know you aren’t worrying about the surgery anymore and are calm now that his heart has been fixed. Just don’t worry like our mother is about every little thing.

Someone from the hospital called to confirm my dad’s appointment tomorrow for his coronary artery bypass surgery. She said that we need to be at the hospital at 9:30am for some pre-op things to do, but the actual “procedure” would not begin until the early afternoon. After my mom got off the speaker phone, my dad says to us, “See how she said it’s a ‘procedure’? This isn’t surgery. It’s just a procedure, so this isn’t high risk or anything like that. They do so many of these every week!”

There are some forms of delusion that aren’t so terrible. This is one of them. If my dad is better able to accept this and have greater peace of mind when thinking of this as a “procedure” rather than a “surgery,” it’s completely fine by me.

It’s been almost a year since my dad’s best friend died. That seems like a weird thing for me to remember and think about, but he was a true friend and a genuine person, the kind of person who speaks in such a frank way that after he leaves you, you think, “Why can’t more people be as honest and real as he is?” He was a rarity.

I thought about him for the last two days after I heard about my dad’s blocked artery. I’m sure this friend had the same condition and just had no idea about it since he didn’t care for doctors’ visits and his general health. What would it be like if he were here and knew this about my dad? Would he take it upon himself to get his own heart health checked, too?

I have just a few but very fond memories of him and our conversations — in person, on the phone, and via e-mail. I remember asking him about his health, and he was honest and said he hadn’t seen a doctor in so many years. I told him that he should go — he was at that age when people started dying from heart attacks. He waved me away and said he’d think about it. I guess he never got around to it.

Too many sad things have happened in the last year and a half of my life. I still miss Ed every day, and the pain of losing him has only gotten stronger in the last few days since learning about our dad’s heart condition. But I hope that my dad’s surgery will go well and be a turning point in his life — in our lives together. I told him last year that he has to live until 150 and do whatever it takes to live that long because he’s not allowed to go anywhere. And I meant that.

Chris and I were at brunch today with my friend/former colleague and her husband, and we were telling them about how we use the One Second Every Day app as one way to document our lives. The app allows us to capture one second of every day and then mash them all together to create a single video. My friend’s husband was so impressed by the idea of it and my sample October video (since I break them up by month) that he downloaded the app on the spot and started playing around with it. “Wow, you guys are really documenting everything!” my friend exclaimed. We told them about this app after I mentioned I was creating a hard copy scrapbook of places we’ve been and things we’ve done together since the beginning of our relationship.

I thought about it for a while after we parted ways that afternoon. We spend so much of our time wanting to capture the “big” moments — births, graduations, engagements, weddings, anniversaries, holidays with family and friends, but as a society it just seems like we don’t spend enough time thinking about the real moments that make up our everyday life. Sure, those big life events are important, but how can we belittle what makes up the bulk of our lives? We get all excited and look forward to these big moments, but it’s almost to the detriment of the everyday — your *real* life. People don’t really seem to care so much when you are sharing a snapshot of what you did yesterday, but those moments are actually the majority of what make up your life and what your life is really about. Every day isn’t super exciting — it’s true. On Thursday, going to the dentist wasn’t fun or memorable, but it’s part of my life. It’s not always going to be glamorous or fun, and not everyone is going to be smiling or happy or posing with a champagne glass. But this is what life is — the everyday moments. And we shouldn’t forget that. This app is a reminder to me for this.

Someone posted an article today about how everyone, assuming they are physically and mentally able, should move at least five times in his/her life; the idea behind the article was that “staying is settling.” For the same reasons that people should travel, they should move to get a better sense of what it is like to live in another place. When you are living your day to day life in a place that is not your home and thus not a familiar, comfortable place, it forces you to really listen to everything around you, everything from the verbiage that people use in their everyday language to their accents, to what really matters to them. How do these people in the place you do not call home perceive your home? How do they see the world that is outside of their own world? And when we are all together from different parts of this country or this world, how do we fit in with each other, if at all?

I am completely aware of the privileges I’ve had as someone who has traveled as much as I have in the last 28 years of my life. Most of that travel only started happening at age 24 and after, but I know that not everyone is able to do the types of traveling I have done. But let’s be honest: millions of people have been mobile for centuries with little money to their names. Money isn’t the real factor that holds people back from exploring the world whether it’s through travel or through living in other places; it’s really fear — fear of the unknown and unfamiliar.

I’ve been very fortunate to live and spend a great deal of time in and around three major cities of this country – San Francisco, Boston, and New York City. Yes, they are all metropolitan areas, but they’re all very different from each other in countless ways and have given me some much needed perspective on what it’s like to live in differents parts of the country.

I’ve been spending time in the last couple of days with two people who have never moved out of their home town their entire lives. Granted, they are both in their 20s and still have lots of deciding to do for their lives, but both are pretty content in staying where they are and have little to no desire to move and live in other places. Everyone makes their own decisions, but it’s hard to listen to these decisions when they make stereotypes about places that they are unfamiliar with or have never been to. The most common (and untrue) stereotypes I’ve heard in the last 24 hours are that New York is a dangerous place, all the people are unfriendly, and all New Yorkers, because of the vast number of restaurants and cuisines to choose from, must all be knowledgable about different cuisines and thus food snobs.

New York City, while a unique and amazing place, in many ways is just like every other city. We have a lot of transplants, but we also have a lot of people who have never, ever left this city and never intend on doing so (and are damn proud of it, for better or for worse). We have food snobs whose preference when eating out is to only patronize “fine dining” restaurants (I’ve actually met someone who explicitly said this to me at a Yelp event), we have people who only eat at delis and holes-in-the wall type restaurants, and we also have extremely picky and narrow-minded eaters who won’t eat anything “foreign” to them (that could even mean the sandwich shop on the next street. I’m not really talking about alligator or rabbit here). We have low socioeconomic neighborhoods that statistically speaking have higher rates of crime, but we also have brightly lit, lush tree-lined streets with doormen guarding every single building down the avenue. And until you live here or in any other city, it’s unfair, baseless, and simply ignorant to make sweeping judgments about what a city is like.