I have always been a fan of quotes; whether they draw a nice chuckle or evoke intense emotion, I love all the shapes and sizes they come in. I have my favorite songs and movies memorized forever, and cite them often. It even makes me angry to hear someone sing incorrect lyrics or to listen to an attempt to poorly recite classic cinematic lines.  Quotes are a well from which I draw inspiration.  Especially now.

Before Bill Cosby started slingin’ pudding, my man “Heathcliff Huxstable” said, “The past is a ghost, the future a dream and all we ever have is now.”  The past should never be forgotten; that would be irresponsible on our part. However, the past should also not prevent us from moving forward with rigor and will. We need to somehow look to the past to correct our mistakes at the same time we are resisting dwelling on those very same mistakes.

I had a great friend who lost his battle with cancer a few years ago. I cannot stress how inspirational he has been through all of this, so I will attempt brevity. His name was Drew Rodrigue. For those who may read this and did not have the pleasure of experiencing his perpetual smile and bright rosy cheeks, I am deeply sorry. His mantra through his diagnosis and treatment was in the form of an acronym: FIDO. It means “f*** it,
drive on. Politically correct? Maybe not. Precise? Absolutely! This is the way I must view the past in regards to cancer.

I do not know why I am going through this at 32 years old. The list of possible medical reasons of “why” will forever run through my head. I cannot change them however, so I choose to move forward. I must have the “short memory” that we often reference for a quarterback after an interception. Learn from the mistakes. Always. Then, press on. I tell my young cooks upon their entry to our team, “It is okay to make ten mistakes once, but we have a problem if you make five mistakes twice.”

The past cannot control our free will for the present, which can determine the outcome for our future.

I truly feel that this is a second chance for me. I have always pushed myself to be a better chef. My career is one where complacency means inferiority. The push to exceed my professional skill set is innate, but what I now see I need to become is a better husband and father. I feel that this tragic circumstance has given me the ability to do that. This is the present. Live in the now. Being around my family with such emotion on a daily basis makes me revere the “small things”. I am watching my daughter grow and develop every day. She has a new set of tricks each morning she awakens. I can shape her future. I see my baby son becoming more a boy with every sunrise. I can help mold him to be a man. These opportunities have always been there, I just took them for granted.

So often the life of a chef leaves the family with the “leftovers”. The pun is intended here. They get the father and husband who is tired and irritable. He has displaced all his energy at work on guests they will never meet, and food they will not taste. I do not in any way feel spite for the work I have done, or the food I have made. I know that when this is done, my desire to create better food and culture will be ferocious. My time, however, will also be spent loving life. Loving my family every day. I am pushing to create a routine and lifestyle that will allow for more energy, health, and positivity. Knowing that the past’s misfortunes are shaping the present to facilitate a beautiful prosperous future.

I cannot wait for the ride.

“The future starts today, not tomorrow.” ~ St. John Paul II

Carl

Week one of chemotherapy and radiation is behind us.  Onto week two.

This beautiful Easter holiday weekend had me aching for my family. Holidays in my family were always special. I come from a long line of “party throwers” and “party-goers” and given the sheer size of my family, there was no such thing as a small celebration. In fact, in my family, there was no small anything.

But, after my parents’ divorce, I stopped enjoying family gatherings of this magnitude. Or more truthfully, family gatherings in general.

My family dynamics began with my grandparents, two amazing forces in life. My Grandfather, Jim Varley, would walk into a room and captivate his audience in a heart beat. He was fiercely competitive; and always wanted the best from his children and grandchildren. His love of music, food, entertaining, sports, and his uncanny good looks made him quite the show stopper. My grandmother, June, would make Emily Post and her etiquette rules look second rate when compared to her spectacular party throwing, perfect manners, and impeccable correspondence. This social fortitude was maintained while raising 14 children, running soup kitchens, and being an amazing Catholic. (I have to also mention, that my Grandmother’s sense of style was flawless, timeless…and I was always holding my breath as she entered a room.)

My own mother was “the chief” of their pack of 14, and she is powerhouse in her own right. A woman with a very sharp, intellectual mind.  She inherited her mother’s beauty and love for traditions; she has her father’s charisma and a secret yearning to be the best at all times.  But my mother is also different from her family in many ways.  She always urged, even demanded, that we wear our emotions on our sleeves and encouraged us to communicate our feelings openly.  Given that there were six of us, and all six of us were very verbal, many opinions and endless talking filled the house I grew up in. In her recent years, she enjoys smaller gatherings and a peaceful life on the beaches of 30-A. Still a very strong woman of faith, she never gives up on anyone. My mother’s hugs could heal the world.

My father is a more reserved man, kind and gentle.  He is a caregiver, a thinker, a scholar. My father has a smile that could light up a room. And he has always understood my wild streak, allowing me to make mistakes and letting me find my own way. Falling fifth in a line of six, I was constantly the talk of the family. “Alix should do this, Alix should have done that, Alix should be more like this sister, or that brother”…

I went to Auburn University in search of some peace and quiet, where I found a way to silence the opinions of my family, and learn to be myself.  Or, rather, a younger version of myself. Many years have gone by since I decided to take my own path…years filled with both good decisions and bad decisions. Subconsciously, I was fighting hard to distance myself from my family, and finally found refuge in Carl’s family here in New Orleans, where everything was a little easier, a lot smaller, and a lot less theatrical. I have felt an amazing sense of home since I met them, knowing that simply being myself was more than okay.  And never did I feel like I had to be more than that.

But, when all of this started and I was disheveled and speechless (for once), my family was there to pick up the slack, doing all the things I could not even think to ask for. Right now, my sister Lindsey is house-hunting, in order to finally make our lifelong dream of raising our kids to be best friends a reality.  My oldest sister Vicky has sent us all the books and cooking supplies needed to keep Carl and I reading and cooking (our true passions) throughout this journey. My brother Bradford, always with his big heart and pragmatic outward appearance, gave me sound financial advice first and then followed up with boundless encouragement. He even offered up an apology for a recent tiff. My oldest brother Trip, the most Varley of them all, just wanted to let me talk…to see how I was really feeling. As always, right there at a time when I really needed to talk out all my fears without judgement. My baby sister Fallon has been her bigger-than-life self and continues to send me amazing digital videos and uplifting messages daily to keep my attitude positive.  My father has shared his amazing words of comfort and admitted that though bad things do happen, you have to press on. And my mother…well, she is recovering from a hip surgery. And yet, in her usual fashion, still ready to jump (literally) on a plane and come take care of us.

It is difficult to believe that Carl’s diagnosis came just 21 days ago today.

As I sit here looking into his tired eyes, listening to machines pump him full of what I like to imagine is the “magic cure” that will erase this madness called cancer, I even now find my thoughts drifting to my family. I am thinking about how deep our roots run within us.  I am thinking of how my mother’s example of verbal exhaustion gave us quite a large and rare gift. I am thinking that I know my siblings and mother better than most, as they do me. In fact, they often know me better than I know myself.

My family is a force to be reckoned with…loud, emotional, competitive, and sometimes downright intrusive. They love to talk to you, about you, and all around you. And it has kept me somewhat distant from them in recent years, perhaps because I was not open to seeing the true beauty of it all.

But, this is my family.  And through cancer, God has revealed to me how lucky I am to have them at my side. These people who will be there always, and who know me absolutely. I am blessed beyond words to have this family. I am an O’Neil, and for the first time in a really long time, I know what a true blessing it is to be a part of all this chaos.

I have had a harder time writing this week, although recent reflection on my life has shown me that blessings seem to come through in the craziest of ways. Through this searching I have realized that family is everything. Family comes in all shapes and sizes. Some born, some created, some chosen, some not.  I urge you to find the blessings in your family, as we fight to save our own young family.  And hope, one day, that our children will know just how much we love them.

 

Alix

“The art of life is to live in the present moment and to make that moment as perfect as we can by the realization that we are the instruments and expression of God himself. The best way to prepare for tomorrow is to make today all that it should be.” Emmet Fox

I can hear the roaring laughter of Carr as daddy chases him around the house today, Cate crawling and giggling, and the overwhelming joy in my heart for a moment erases all my fears and worries. It is as if nothing has changed, and it is a usual Sunday. Carl in the kitchen cooking, a lot “cleaner” than usual, but the smells of our everyday life fill the house and instantly my mind and body relax. Our family is coming to share a meal, one that Carl will ever so delicately put together with so much heart and love. This is our Sunday, and though we have done this a thousand times, today it is different, today I am stopping to thank God for all my blessings. I hear each giggle, and the all the sounds of everyday love as they fill our home. Life does not stop when the person you share your life with gets diagnosed with a serious illness, it keeps moving. It swirls all around you, and all the while you are frozen, staring around at all the movement trying to catch your breath. It is the part of cancer I hope to never lose. I want to remember this clarity of just how precious life is. I want to always remember how my husband smells when he wraps his arms around me. I want to always know how lucky I am to have a home filled with this much energy and love. Each day is a gift, and like most things in life, it is often taken for granted. Life of course goes on, but for us maybe in a new way. I pray to each and everyone who reads this blog that you too find the beauty in your life ,and cherish each day, for it is a gift. I also pray for all to know how much all the love and prayers you have given us have been like a good night’s rest, filling my family with a positive energy to carry us through this fight. We prepare for tomorrow, by making the best of today. The road ahead for me is filled with fear and so many unknowns, but today I will give it my best…..and maybe tomorrow will turn out just as happy.

Alix

 

My family is more medical than most I know. My wife, mother, aunt, uncle, mother in law, father in law, and sister in law are all in the field of medicine. I have lots of friends old and young who span specialties, states, and even countries in this area of expertise. Not one would deny that a state of positive mental well-being would help result in a successful outcome in a battle against cancer. What reason would anyone have to disagree that a positive outlook is the way to go? What is the alternative? Throughout this two-week process (I cannot believe it has only been two weeks), I have tried to turn every negative into a positive. It is the only way for me. There is no alternative. Someone asked me recently if I was mad about the “unfair” nature of this disease and the “why me” factor. I will not ask “why me”? I will not be mad at this. One of my best friends put it this way: Everyone in life has his cross to bear, and I feel this is mine. This will be the hardest thing I will have gone through up to this point in my life, so all that I can do is fight it as fiercely as possible. If not now, when? This will take all my energy, emotion, and will. I know that. I am ready for it physically. I need to be ready for it mentally.   Being positive is my preparation. There is a litany of positives to conquer negatives on a peripheral outlook in this process. I am going to be out of work/pay for at least three months. Conversely, I have not had a true vacation in almost three years. I have brought my son to the first movie since he has been born. This was a true joy that I always missed out on. And for those who have not seen the Lego movie, I am a fan. I may actually see my daughter’s first steps, as she is so close right now. My wife and I have spent more time together in the past two weeks than we do in two months. I realize more everyday why we fell in love and why we need to spend 50 more years together. I will be in and out of work throughout all of this, but mentally my thoughts are on treatment and my family. This is not easy to admit, but this is the first time in my career that the restaurant has not come first. This was hard for me to deal with at first, but it is the reality. Nothing is more important than family. Nothing. And right now my health and outcome of this battle is what will allow me many more years with this family that I so love. Stay tuned for more in the series of turning negatives into positives throughout the battle with cancer. I am finding more everyday.

~Carl