Speechless

By no stretch of the imagination, I am unabashedly verbose. And yet, just after midnight on the 17th of December, I sit speechless.

I have found the one who my soul loves.

Happy one year anniversary to my sweet E.

13 years, 48 days.

Nine years ago today, I lost the most important person in the world.

To say that I miss her seems inadequate; to say that I loved her seems to be a vast understatement.

They say that time heals all wounds but I have found this to be untrue. How can time heal the pain of death, when every second that passes is a second that is farther from the last hug, the last, "I love you," or the last smile? No, time does not heal all wounds.

Time is a tricky thing that tries to make you forget the hurt by blurring, ever so slightly, the memories of the past. But it also works against you. Time forces you to work harder to remember their voices and their touch, their laughter and their stories.

The most beautiful woman I have ever known held me in her arms the day I was born and loved me unconditionally until the day that she died.

I have to watch myself, even nine years later, when I see people my age or older with their grandparents. It's a twinge of jealousy, a moment of anger and a knife that twists itself in my spine as I watch the Lucky Ones have what I will never again experience. It is beautiful and it is broken, but it is the way my eyes so jadedly see the world.

-

Thirteen years and forty eight days I had you in my life. I truly had no idea what I had until far too many years later when I realized what had escaped me. I will never let time steal you away from me. As painful as the image of the cancer breaking your body but never your spirit, I will embrace the worst of times so that I may never lose sight of the days when you were hugging me tightly, laughing so freely and always loving, unconditionally. The most beautiful woman I have ever known, the most precious memory I will ever hold.

Not a day goes by that I don't think of you.

You were like my mother

You were my best friend

You were everything I want to be

And all the good inside of me

That there's ever been

There's never been another

Who loved me like you did

My grandmother, my angel

What's It Like Not To Count?

I don't think I'm being sensational when I say I can't remember a time when I wasn't counting down to something huge and life-changing. As a teenager, I was always counting down the days until I could drive, graduate, buy a lottery ticket and eventually a beer. During college, I counted down the days until finals, summer vacations and eventually graduation. Perhaps the toughest parts of the count down game come from "real life." Marking off the days until Ethan would get home from basic training, counting down until the day I got married and moved out of my childhood home and now, what might be the hardest thing I've ever had to "wait" for, my husband to come home from Afghanistan.

And I have to wonder... what comes next? When Ethan is home, things will be so different for me. I have no idea how to live without waiting for something. When most people look at the calendar, they see a set of dates that help them organize their lives. When I see a calendar, I see an X being marked off slowly but surely, counting down until The Day. When I see a clock, I don't just see minute and hour hands, I see grief and fear ticking away. And I have no clue what's going to happen when that isn't the case anymore.

I sometimes imagine what it will be like when Ethan comes home and it's just us. Already married, the thought of another deployment is so far out of mind, and all the things we've been waiting for just surrounding us as if to proudly say, "look at what you did! It's here, it's here!" Just a home with our dog and and then whatever we want. And I know that sounds childish to say that I'm looking forward to just doing whatever the hell we want but it isn't at all. Lately, someone dictates when we can talk on the phone, when we can see each other, how long we can chat online, etc. etc. And you know what? I can't wait for the day that we look at each other and say, "What do you want to do today?" And neither of us will know. We'll sleep too late, eat breakfast at lunch, fill our tank of gas all the way to the brim and just drive until we forget where we are. And it will be perfect.

I have no idea what it's like not to count the days "until". And I am so excited to find out what it's like, that I can hardly stand it some days.

But for now, we're 131 days down, and over 150 to go...

So About Last Night

I really need to refrain from blogging when I'm at the peak of an emotional meltdown.

Last night was pretty terrible, I can't lie. Something just washed over me as I was trying to put together Ethan's care package for Christmas. Today is the deadline for shipping to an APO in order for it to arrive by Christmas, so I was rushing last night to put together his box. It's not the worst box I've ever done, but it's not wonderful either. I couldn't get it together. Nothing was fitting inside there correctly, the box doesn't look as pretty as I would have liked and I still can't figure out if I did enough. I don't really think I did, but what can I do at this point but move on?

Putting this box together was sort of like Veteran's day. I had no clue how emotional it would make me or why, if there even has to be a reason, that it got to me so much. I think maybe knowing that he won't be home for the holidays is something I've accepted but didn't quite realize what it meant. Being around his family, watching other couples celebrate together... it just adds up to a very depressing season.

I had heard from other wives that the middle of the deployment is always the worst part. I thought they were crazy! How in the world could the middle point be tougher than those first, terrifying nights? Well, I've completely figured out just how horrible the middle part can be.

For the most part, it's exciting to see the number decrease in terms of how many days are left until he's back in the US, but there are moments when I think about how long it's been since I've seen him and then realize how many more days will pass before he comes home and I'm just overwhelmed. It can make something as simple as wrapping a Christmas present torture, or something as normal as carrying on a conversation via text message excruciatingly painful. It sometimes makes absolutely no sense, and maybe that's okay. I haven't figured it out yet.

I'm still lucky to have people around me who put up with me when I'm going through rough days... I do my very best to be there and support other people, so sometimes I set my expectations really high when it's my turn to need someone, and rarely have I been disappointed in the past few months.

As a side note, I learned not to listen to Mariah Carey's greatest hits when I'm sad because 1) they will make cry harder and 2) they will not help lift me into a better mood.

But on a positive note...

Yesterday marked the end of nine weeks worth of dieting and working out and I'm really, really, REALLY excited about it. I've still got 235923453 a whole lot of pounds to lose and a shit ton of work ahead of me, but I've lost about 25 pounds, give or take a few ounces, and it feels really, really good. This week I'm getting re-trained on all the machines at my gym because it's been about three years since someone showed me how to work everything and I'm going to start working with weights at least twice a week. I still love my elliptical but I need to start toning up as well...

Once I get down another size in jeans, I'll post a progress picture... I'm thinking I probably have about twenty pounds to go but that's completely doable... Most likely by mid January I should be there.

So here's to an intense week of working out and trying to keep my head above water... it'll be a battle but I'm ready.

Today Sucks.

You know what I would love right about now? I would love to not be crying over a freaking Christmas present. I'd love to think that anything I did for E would be great but the truth is that he probably won't even act excited about a fucking thing I do.

I'd also like to go back and not eat breakfast or lunch because I'm absolutely sick over it. Literally sick and I don't even want to think about food for the next two days because it makes me want to knock myself out. Seriously, wtf was I thinking? I've been busting my ass for 9 weeks and I blow it in a 6 hour span of time. At least the gym is open tomorrow.

I'd also love just love to think that time changes some people but honestly, it may not.

WHATEVER.


So. Over. It.


I need wine. No I don't. Too many calories. Fuck it.

Born to serve.

I was crossing the street to my apartment this afternoon when I noticed a man with a cane cross the street. We ended practically at the same point on the sidewalk when I noticed who he was. I didn't actually know him, but reality washed over me when I realized I could. He wore an Operation Enduring Freedom hat and walked swiftly, not letting his injury slow him down.

I sort of stared at him before saying hello and then broke out into tears. He looked at me like I was a disturbed crack addict, and I'm pretty sure I gave him the motivation to walk faster. I ran up to my apartment and just rationalized. He could have totally sprained an ankle earlier today, hurt his back playing football with his little brothers or been in a minor car accident. Maybe. But maybe he was injured on his deployment.

And I get that it happens but my GOD can I go just one day without a reminder? Yes, I bring a lot of it on myself and no, I'm not the only person to think like this but I feel like November has been a constant month of just fear. I wasn't this afraid in the beginning.

So then I was walking home from the gym tonight and I was just staring at the sidewalk and I imagined what it must be like to just wonder. What if I stepped right there and the whole thing exploded? How do our guys do it? How does the concept of route clearance not strike fear into them to the point they freeze and shut down? Courage like that isn't taught. It can't be drilled into them during training. They're born to serve. They have to be.

My husband is the bravest person I know.

An Effort to be Positive

I have nothing of real value to write about this morning and to be honest, I have a lot of work to do. I figured that before I start acting like an adult, I could write down a few things that were actually really good about this past week. I'm sometimes a Negative Nancy and have to remind myself to be positive. Here's my latest attempt:

 - Last night, for the first time ever, I ventured downtown - and by "ventured" I mean I mean I walked out my front door - to see the Christmas lights come on around the square. It was underwhelming at best but Santa totally came to town on a freaking tractor so what's there really to complain about?

- I officially made it through Thanksgiving without losing my mind, even though I definitely came close once or twice.

- I saw Twilight Breaking Dawn Part Two twice and even though it wasn't as good as I built it up to be in my head, the fact that there was an Amazonian Tyra Banks vampire made it all okay. That and I totally have a girl crush on Kristen Stewart now. Don't even hate.

-Even though I ate way more than normal this past week, I managed to not gain any weight. I originally thought I had lost a total of 20 pounds so far but it's only 19.

-Speaking of losing weight, I'm making December a month of total crazy workout and dieting. No it's not ideal and yes it's probably "too fast" but my goal is to lose 21 pounds from now until December 31st. That would be a total of 40 pounds and would leave 60 to go before Ethan comes home.

- I spent lots of time with my best friend which was great, because even though he has no idea, just being around him helped me make lots of decisions about things I've remained so uncertain of lately. I love how some people just have a presence that makes it possible for you to make sense of things.

-  I've changed the way I think about my husband and this deployment in a really good way. I used to get so upset because I'd leave him a message, see that he had read it but left no response. I would feel so rejected and hurt. And then I had a slap in the face moment. He read the messages, and that means he's alive. I should celebrate every time he reads it, whether he responds or not.

- We're officially 40% done with this deployment... so far to go but my gosh, I can remember when we were at one tiny percent.


So I guess despite the fact that in many ways Thanksgiving was a super shitty week of sad, there were some bright spots that really made all the difference.

And for that, I really am thankful.

If I Could Give Myself Advice

If I could go back in time and give myself advice for how to handle the week of Thanksgiving, here's what I would say:

1. I know you really like Army Wives and that you're trying to get caught up on the seasons, but when you're missing your husbad the most, please don't watch season five. Not only will you watch two men dressed in greens show up at one of your favorite character's houses, you will hear them tell her that her son was killed and then, because you are a glutton for punishment, you will watch his funeral and listen to the letter he left in his foot locker be read in his voice and you will bawl your fucking eyes out. And it's because you will be too stupid to realize it's a bad fucking idea. Avoid this show for the week of Thanksgiving. It is a total mood killer.

2. Thanksgiving is as dumb as you remember it every single year. It's a holiday that few people actually enjoy, that people spend way too much time cooking for ( cooking food that you don't even like, by the way), and it will not magically transform into an awesome holiday so don't feel bad about dreading it.

3. You do not have to go to every house that you are expected to go to. Even though you're going to do it for the sake of your husband, it isn't worth your worry because while you might be making everyone else happy, you're only going to drive yourself crazy rushing from place to place. Pick two places. People will deal.

4. If and when a prayer is said at the family dinner and they do not address your husband, your husband's service or the fact that maybe just maybe we should be thankful for something other than stuffing our faces, just stay calm. Stay calm. Not only is it not worth getting upset over, but you now have a legitimate reason to open your mouth and get sassy the next time someone pisses you off. This can be morphed into a good thing. 

5. You don't like turkey. Stop eating it. 

6. You are going to cry more on Thanksgiving than you have since your husband left. You will cry getting ready, in the car, when you see his dad (because he looks just like him), when you leave his grandparent's house and then, as if you hadn't cried enough, you will get drunk and sob on your floor to your best friend like a complete idiot. It will be therapeutic and embarrassing and the best thing you could have done for yourself. Crying is totally fine on Thanksgiving.

7. Speaking of your best friend, you're going to be completely reminded of why your best friend is still your best friend and it will make your heart s m i l e even when you don't feel like anything can be right with the world. Just go with it and hold on to it, because it's one of those things that you're going to end up being most thankful for.

8. Your husband isn't going to magically surprise you like a super cute You Tube video. You already know this but that teeny tiny hope that you'll at least hear from him via a face book message or short phone call will also be smashed and it will break your little heart. But whatever you do, don't not hope. Even when you're disappointed, you must remember that there is never a crime in hoping.

9. For every ounce of sadness you have because your husband won't be home, there are two ounces of love for him in your heart. If you didn't love him, you wouldn't miss him. The fact that you have someone in your life that you love so much is enough reason to celebrate. Don't forget that distance doesn't take away what's in your heart.

10. Speaking of your husband, you're going to think about him roughly 9234592345 times a day. Don't fight it. Embrace it. You have found the one whom your soul loves.

Thanksgiving is another day down. Keep on keeping on.

How can I change her heart?

Last week I went to a birthday party for one of Ethan's cousins and while I was just standing around awkwardly - because what are adults really supposed to do a kid's party anyway? - I struck up a conversation with one of my favorite young ladies. I believe she's in middle school and through the five years Ethan and I have been together, I have watched her transformation from a little kid into a beautiful pre-teen who has a truly bright future. 

Her family is strong - the strongest kinds of strong that only a military family can posses. I'm in awe of how they've held themselves together through multiple deployments only to come out of it with a heart that's still soft enough to help others; they've recently become a foster family and I'm envious of their ability to help so many people just by opening their front door. 

But last week, my heart was truly hurt. As this young girl was telling me about the newest foster child they were caring for, she spoke of a haunting past. It made me sad to think this little child had been through so much at such a young age, and just when I thought it was over, I was told that there was something else. This baby used live with her aunt. The girl who was speaking then said that what came next was disgusting. She made a face as if to insinuate being sick and I braced myself. Had this poor baby been the victim of rape? Had someone shook this child? Drugs in the home? 

No. What was disgusting was that she lived with her aunt and her aunt's partner.

I was in shock. I nodded my head, looked to another adult to continue a new conversation and held back tears. I got to my car and I couldn't stop them. I just cried and cried as I drove home because I couldn't understand what I had just heard. This beautiful young girl stood in front of me,  and yet the words that flowed were filled with homophobia and disgust. I knew her family was conservative, as are most of Ethan's relatives, but I didn't know it was taken this far. 

My mind immediately ran to my best friend. I've brought him around these people and trusted that it was a safe environment. Was I wrong? Is that really what they think about gay people and those who have children? Then I thought of his sweet aunts, who just welcomed a beautiful baby girl not even a year ago. How could such a beautiful family be viewed as anything but just that? What was disgusting? To this exact moment I can't process it.

What are we teaching our children? I know that not everyone agrees that "gay is okay" but when did the term disgusting become okay to use when we're talking about real people? 

I can't get this day out of my head. What can I do to fix this? How can I change the heart of someone who simply doesn't know any better? I'm so lost. I can't even grasp the concept that she is just one thousands.

It's devastating and I feel helpless. 

Patience & Good Cheer

The closer it gets to Christmas, the more I'm trying to soften my heart and really make an effort to be kinder and more compassionate. It isn't just because the holidays are coming up, it's also because in the past month I've noticed myself becoming more and more intolerant, irritable and if I have to be honest, completely resentful.

I love to see people I love happy and in relationships, and I get that arguing with your significant other is completely normal, but sometimes it's super hard for me to try and relate. Just a week ago I was with two friends who were planning a trip and they were just not getting along. I tried to be supportive, I genuinely cared about their problems and at the same time I was just on the verge of screaming, "You're right beside each other! You're not 7,000 miles away! What problem could you possibly have that you can't resolve with a hug?" 

Completely irrational. I know. I get it. It's sort of like when I see a happy couple out in public and I want to just vomit. I get so resentful when I just see simple displays of affection because I miss it. I miss it so freaking much. I miss my husband's touch and I'm not even talking about sex. I miss holding his hand and having him come up behind me and wrap his arms around me. 

It's also sort of like when I hear someone tell me they miss someone who lives within driving distance. Or in the same state. Or on the same fucking continent. I internally give a death stare that could probably take out the taliban on its own. It's totally unfair of me and I am trying so hard, but it's super tough. Some days are better than others and I'm trying to really remember what this sacrifice is for.

I'm trying to remember that every night I go to sleep alone, it's another night that others can sleep safely with their spouses and their kids. I'm reminding myself that this isn't forever and that he'll be home soon. That in the end, it will all be worth it when I've got my husband back home, safe and sound.

So if I seem a little on edge or my fuse a tad short, try to give me a little slack. I'm really trying hard and it's just not an easy journey.

Here's to practicing patience and spreading good cheer.

Random Things

I'm procrastinating at work but my mind is running in a bunch of different directions so instead of blogging a real blog I'm just going to list random thoughts in my head:

- I'm thinking of going back to school because I don't think I'm going to magically fall in love with my current "profession" anytime soon. Better late than ever, right?

- I worked out last night for an hour and the machine said I burned 700 calories so I'm not going to call it a liar. YAY for doing what I said I'd do.

- I absolutely cannot believe that Thanksgiving is next week and I'm a crummy wife because I just now sent E's care package. Ooops.

- Pinterest is KILLING ME with their recipes and I keep repinning things that make me so freaking hungry.

- I'm actually going home for lunch today which is super weird. I never do that.

End of Week Six: Progress, Progress, Progress

It feels absolutely super fantastic for me to be able to say that as of today, I have officially been on a diet for six weeks. That's roughly five weeks and six days longer than I've managed stay on a diet at any point in the last four years, so it's definitely worth celebrating for five seconds.

As of this morning I've lost 15.2 pounds, which is progress but not the progress that I was completely hoping for in the beginning. The last time I went all out for working out and losing weight, I was averaging about four pounds a week. I do have to keep in mind that I was doing things really differently then, and probably what most would consider unhealthily. Either way, I'm about five pounds away from being on "track" so this next week is going to be excruciating in terms of staying on my diet and working out - every day.

And now that I reflect back on the last six weeks, I really feel like I have no room to complain about progress. I've probably given myself at least one day a week where I didn't really watch what I ate, and for the last week I've been slacking with MyFitnessPal. I've also only been to the gym maybe four times. I know. Shame, shame. So in reality, the fact that I've been able to lose 15 pounds without really doing much is pretty darn impressive. And it's rather motivating!

The only thing I wish I would have done so far is take pictures before, because I can't really see a difference but I think that's mainly because I see myself everyday. One person who wouldn't know I was trying to lose weight has said they thought I looked smaller, which was a big deal.

Lukas came over this week and I completely forgot to take down this chart thing that I record what I weigh every day so, Lukas, if you read this, it's your problem to deal with me telling you every time I hit some awesome goal of mine... I won't even let my husband know how much I weigh. My bad.

Here are the six things I learned in the first six weeks of weight loss:

1. Measuring food is kind of time consuming but totally worth it.
2. My scale does not lie no matter how many times I accuse it of lying to me.
3. Salads are only healthy if you don't put a shit ton of unhealthy things on them.
4. 1200 calories a day is more than enough to stay full if you dont use 1000 of them in one meal.
5. Water honest to goodness makes the biggest difference in the entire world.
6. Your body will actually appreciate it when you give it good things - who would have thought?!

So here's to the next six weeks of changin'. I'm setting the following goals because I'm ready to get a little more serious about this whole thing.

1. Absolutely no fast food unless it's the occasional - and very, vey occasional - trip to Subway. If I'm going to eat out, which is totally okay sometimes, I need to do it in a place where I can actually sit down, plan/figure out the best option and enjoy what I eat instead of ordering without thinking and eating my day in calories before realizing what happened.

2. Working out four days a week - no exceptions. I actually had a fight with myself about whether or not I should type three days or four days, but four days won because that's what's going to yield results. I'm going to be more specific and say that I need to work out for at least an hour four days a week. My God. I must hate myself... or love myself. I can't tell which one that is right now.

3. Vitamins every day, even though it's like swallowing bowling balls.

4. Making breakfast liquid - at least for the next three weeks. Smoothies, slim fast, whatever.

And since I'm obviously in the mood to make lists, here are the random pieces of knowledge nuggets going through my brain:

1. Mariska Roo is being way too good tonight and I have no idea what she's done wrong but it's got to be something horrible.

2. I spent a stupid amount of money on things for care packages today but it was totally worth it.

3. I made these homemade fruit snacks tonight and they turned out decently enough... not as firm as I would have liked but they work.

4. Yes, I know it's Veteran's Day and I just couldn't bring myself to write about it. It was a totally unexpected emotional day that started with me crying in church during prayer time and a very nice lady hugging me through it. I really don't know what came over me, but I didn't see it coming.

5. I'm still completely and totally thankful for the sacrifices of our troops and today marks Ethan being gone for 102 days... but who's keeping count?



Okay, until next time, here's the best "before" picture I could find that was taken. I was probably at my heaviest in this picture but I really can't tell... I as wearing one of those things that sucks in your fat. No big.

Four More Years

I've been meaning to write since Wednesday morning, but I'm embarrassed to say I've been putting it off. I feel like I should have a lot to say after the elections on Tuesday, but really, I don't. It's no secret that I'm pretty liberal and It's even less of a secret that I voted for Obama again.

Four years ago I was so politically active and very excited to vote, but this year was quite different. While I still care a great deal about who is elected on both local and national levels, I found it difficult to really get motivated this time around.

I did manage to voice my opinion after seeing a rather ridiculous sign in a window near my apartment:

And I also voted early (on my birthday to be exact):

On election night, my sister and I had a few glasses bottles of wine while we nervously watched the results come in. It was honestly excruciated to watch the intial numbers come in, because Romney was leading for awhile before some of the bigger states' results poured in.

Before midnight, though, it was clear that the American people's voice was heard and I don't think I'll ever forget the rush of excitement as CNN broke into their own coverage with the announcement that they had called the presidential election and that Obama had won a second term.

With 303 electoral votes, 33 more than what was needed to secure the presidential seat, Obama remained in office and I went to bed. It was rather uneventful but I can't lie, I was very proud in that moment to know I had a very tiny part in making history once again.

I don't really want to drag this into a super political rant, but there are many reasons why I vote the way I vote.

I want to help those who are in need, feed those who are hungry and stop giving more to those who already have plenty. I want to see my best friend get married. I want to see him have kids and have complete rights to them if they aren't biologically related. I want to bring my husband home from this war and bring all of our troops home. I want to see struggling single parents have a chance at making it. I want to give women the right to choose - even if they make a decision I am 100% against - because it's their right. I want to love Jesus and let Him shine through me; I don't want to force Him on those who don't believe the same things I do. And I really think that this election was a positive step in the right direction for all of those things... at least on a national level.

So at least for another four more years, we can progress and hopefully until the next election we can come together as a nation and unify for the common goal of creating a positive nation for ourselves and future generations.

This is of course, the greatest country in the world.

Fifteen Reasons Why: Goal to Skinny

It's been a little over five weeks since I started trying to lose weight and I've done quite well with the exception of last week, when I managed to let my cheat day turn into a cheat week. I wanted to curl up into a little ball when I got on the scale yesterday morning and realized I had gained weight back from just seven days of being lazy, but decided against it in favor of pressing on. When I was contemplating just giving up, I managed to make myself remember the reasons why I wanted to start losing weight + get fit in the first place, and then thought it would be even more beneficial to write them down.

Some of my reasons are not what some people might think are good reasons; some are obviously superficial but that doesn't make them less important to me.

1. I really do want to be healthy, as a primary reason for losing weight.
2. Skinny people get to wear cuter clothes.
3. Warrior Dash 2013, please!
4. For once I'd like to not be the fat friend.
5. I want to look killer in my wedding dress when we renew our vows next October.
6. Because there is nothing sexier than a subtle v-cut on a woman.
7. I want to hear the most critical person I know tell me they think I'm beautiful.
8. I can then stop hating my skinny friends who need to lose - gasp - five pounds.
9. Sex - let's just be straight up, ok?
10. I eventually want to be able to be the best role model for my kids - a long time from now.
11. I want my husband to have a reason to find me attractive - and to believe it when he says it.
12. Mirrors will no longer be my enemy.
13. Pools, beaches and summer in general will be enjoyed not dreaded.
14. So I won't have to tilt my head at an awkward angle to take a picture without a fat face.
15. To feel less embarrassed when I meet people; cure for introversion = confidence

Just keep going.

You'll get there.

Introversion & One Bottle Of Wine Later, I Love You

It has taken me 22 years to articulate that I'm an introvert.

The best definition of introvert that I could find online says, "a person who tends to shrink from social contacts and to become preoccupied with their own thoughts." Other definitions used words like "self-centered" and I didn't appreciate it one bit.

So this past Friday, my best friend invited me to come see him. I immediately said I didn't think so, because I probably had to work the next day and then, sighed inwardly. It rolled off my tongue so easily that I got confused and actually looked at my calendar once I hung up to see if I had a meeting or something scheduled that I subconsciously knew I had to attend. Nope. It simply wasn't true. I'm so used to trying to get out of social situations for whatever reason that avoiding them is just second nature. Before I had time to change my mind, I messaged him and simply said, "Okay. I'll come."

And I went.

If I had been thinking clearly, I would have slashed my own tires for fear that this trip to Boone would be like the previous, catastrophic trip that resulted in almost an entire year of ridiculousness. If I had been a little more guarded, I would have been terrified that something would go wrong and I'd end up looking like an idiot. Luckily I don't even own a full-length mirror, because if I did, I'd have convinced myself that I didn't even look decent enough to go.

But thankfully, I wasn't thinking clearly at all. I was, for the first time in awhile, excited to see someone. I am probably fifty percent sappier and more sentimental in words than I am in real life, but it's no exaggeration when I say that I really love my best friend. And I simply wanted to see him.

I have started to realize that being an introvert explains 99% of the parts of me I don't quite like; and yes,  I don't like being an introvert. The parts of my best friend that I love the most are the parts that I envy - the personality that charms everyone he meets, the ability to adapt into any social situation he's given and his unique way to completely make you feel something that you can't always put your finger on. Over the years, I have built up a million walls around myself and he's managed to find a window and crawl through every single one with ease. There is something both refreshing and terrifying about someone knowing you better than you know yourself.



Lukas, I love you. Thanks for not giving up on me when I have long since given up on myself. Even though an entire bottle of wine can't make me chatty, I appreciate you sticking with me and letting me at least try. Because I really do try. The past few months without E here have made me appreciate so many things, and you are one of my favorite things. When it seemed like things were too crazy to fix, you simply did. When I just decided that it was best to let it go, you reminded me that things were never really gone. I will probably screw up a million more times before I'm dead, but until I'm in the ground, I'm going to keep trying to be the best friend that I can be. I will probably fail more times than I get it right, but at least my effort is yours.

Goodbye!

Goodbye, October!

Next time I see you, I'll be spending all of your time with my husband!

Please, Be Kind.

A few months ago, I said something to someone on Facebook that really upset someone who I would call a friend.

Although what I said was not directed at this particular person, they were really bothered my words enough to message me about it and begin a discussion. In the middle of it all, she told me that she was disappointed in me. I began to apologize to her, feeling so personally responsible that I had caused this feeling, when she interrupted me and said, "My disappointment has nothing to do with you. I'm the one who is disappointed. It's my problem, not yours."

Ever since this moment, I've looked at disappointment differently.

Today is my 22nd birthday and I wish I could use a different word to describe my day other than disappointing, but the truth is, I'm so disappointed in so many people and things that I'm physically sick to my stomach. I've cried more in the past 23 hours than I have since Ethan first left and it seemed as if with each passing minute, my emotions just cut deeper.

Don't get me wrong, my mom did her very best to make my morning special and two very dear people went out of their way to get me a very sweet gift that I love tremendously. But as a whole, my day was so far from happy.

As each event unfolded that caused me to be disappointed, I went back to the words of my friend. It has nothing to do with you. I'm the one disappointed. It's my problem, not yours. And this only made things worse. I became furious. It's my birthday and it's my fault I'm disappointed? Is it really my job to try and convince myself that disappointment is just an emotion that I create based on what I interpret?

Hour after hour, I was reminded. Birthday cards written by random strangers, the absence of my husband, the "happy birthday" phone calls and texts that were either non-existant or extremely late, the unwillingness of others to come to me on my day, the empty apartment waiting for me, the take-out dinner for one, the insensitive comments.... reminder, reminder, and reminder after reminder of this: disappointment is my fault. 

Perhaps, in a way, I agree more than I think. While I proclaim to hate my birthday, the very cold hard truth of the matter is that I love the idea of my birthday. I love the idea of waking up and celebrating. Breakfast with my husband, random surprises throughout the day. Family dinners, friends. I don't need presents. And each year, I vocally talk about how I hate birthdays to prepare myself for the worst, and internally I set this expectation that I will be completely blown away. That I will wake up and this year will be different. Something will happen that will just spark.

And every year, I'm so completely devastated that it makes me lose all hope for just a little bit. It takes me a few days to regroup and get over the fact that it happened again. It really does take awhile to make myself forget about the birthday 10 years ago where no one came to my party. I relive that every fucking year. I swear I'll never get over that feeling. But the feeling is my fault. I had silent expectations; the disappointment was sure to follow.



Twenty-Two,
You're starting out atrociously just like the rest. But I still have faith in you. That glimmer of hope I had for today is still there, and it will stay with me until next year. You've got an entire year to restore me. You've got a year to build me up so that I don't break down again. You've got to carry me through, at least until spring so I can see my husband. You've got a lot of work to do in so many areas and I know you can do it. Besides, you've only got one shot at this year...what do you have to lose?
Just please, be kind.

Twenty-One

I've been trying to write about my journey through my twenty-first year of life for an hour. Every time I begin, I erase it and start all over. I'm not sure if it's because I'm not yet ready to let go of 21, or if it's because there is so much packed into this past year that I can't figure out the most perfect place to begin.

So much simply changed this past year. I don't feel like I've grown a year older, I feel like I've literally evolved into a different person. Some parts of the "new" me, I absolutely love. Other parts, I'm still trying to figure out what to do with.

I look back to last October and it's somehow like looking into yesterday and back through a millions years all at the same time. I've gotten married, graduated college, found a job, moved into an apartment, had E deploy, lost friends, found friends, and realized what it meant to be a true friend.

I've wasted money and saved money. I've forgotten that I don't like to be blonde . I've missed school and in the same breathe thanked God that I was finally through. I've learned what weakness is all about, and how I am anything but it.

It took me until the end of my twenty-first year to finally realize that you can extend the most loving hand to someone who you have put all your confidence in, and they may still make the choice to turn you away. To these people, I have come to know that I must continue loving them, but I do not have to continue putting myself into a situation where I cause myself pain. I don't have to understand why because the why doesn't really matter. That has been a tremendous life lesson.

But I've also learned that the absolute best of friends don't have to talk every day. They may fight until what seems like the death, say things they don't mean and not talk for months and then one day, it will simple be over and you will realize that after the dust has been blown away, the foundation of a friendship didn't even crack. That has warmed my heart and reminded me that even though I expect the worst, the worst doesn't always have to happen.

I have painfully understood what it means to miss someone, and I have looked the concept of death in the face as I mourned silently - sometimes audibly - with a woman I have only met in passing as she learned of the death of her husband serving overseas. For the first time in my life, I grasped what could happen. I experienced the fear of someone knocking on my door, only to discover it was a neighbor who had no idea of what that noise did to me.

I have learned that the best day of my life was not my wedding day; it was the next day when I woke up and realized that every day, for the rest of my life, I will wake up married to the love of my life. I have realized that God conditioned my heart to love so deeply that I could never in a million years express exactly how I feel about my husband.

I have discovered a favorite quote. "People learn how to treat you based on what you accept from them," and this quote has changed the way I think about life.






Twenty-One, you will always be remembered as my year of Change. Despite it all, I wouldn't have had you any other way.

What are you trying to show me?

I believe in the power of dreaming.

There are few things that we do that serve absolutely no purpose, so I can't bring myself to believe that when we fall asleep, we dream for absolutely no reason. As long as people have been able to articulate what happens inside our minds once we fall asleep, there have been theories as to what causes our brain to flood itself with imagery and emotion so vivid that at times it seems we're living a second life throughout the night. And yet, there has been no concrete revelation to tell us exactly what purpose a dream serves.

Maybe it's the romantic in me that at times convinces myself that it's our way of living out fantasies that we can't quite make happen when we're awake. The spiritual side of me believes that it's our own soul's way of revealing our true character; spilling our deepest secrets so that we can figure them out for ourselves. The religious part of me is convinced that a dream is God's way of most intimately connecting with us, as if when we're asleep, we're more likely to listen to what He has to say.

It's been about three months since Lindsey and I stopped talking, and most definitely not by my choice.Three months since I got the call in the middle of the night that William was leaving her. Three months since I rushed to her apartment to find her in tears, describing how he had spoken to her earlier in the day. Three months since he confessed to hating me.Three months since her husband gave her the ultimatum to chose between their marriage and my friendship. Three months since I lost.

Several days ago I had the most odd dream. I dreamed that Lindsey had talked me into marrying her for a reason. It wasn't because we were secret lesbians who had fallen in love, no, it was a means to an end. I remember dreading it in my dream and I watched her run around very excitedly in a way that only Lindsey can do. When she sets her mind to something, she goes full force and doesn't think about the consequences until much later. I never found out why we were getting married, because I woke up before we actually did it. I remember having this feeling of panic and dread because I couldn't bring myself to tell her no.

Last night, I had another dream but this one was much different. I dreamed that I had ran into her park. It was night time and there were lots of people around when I walked up to her and told her that I wanted my ring back. When Lindsey got married, she got a wedding band that looked very similar to mine. For whatever reason, we traded. She gave mine back very rudely, and I began yelling at her, "Why are you doing this to me? What did I do?" and she told me that it wasn't about me and that it wasn't her fault. Then, she starting making out with her husband right in front of me, and I walked off. I cried as I tried to find my car, but I couldn't remember where I parked it.

I woke up and couldn't fall back asleep. It's one thing for me to obsess over something, because that's just what I've always done. But it's an entirely different thing for something to ruin my sleep and infiltrate my dreams. I stayed away for hours thinking about what I could have done differently, in real life or in my dream time and I couldn't figure it out. I did what I could. I was the kind of friend that I would want to have myself and in the end, it just didn't work. I became so bitter as I played our conversations over and over in my head and then found myself in prayer. I want God to take away the anger I have towards her and her husband.

Lord, what are you trying to show me? At first I wanted to save my friendship but now, I just want to forget about the whole thing. The more I think about it and try to make myself understand, the more bitter I become. Lord, I just ask that you shed light on what this is supposed to be teaching me. Give me peace that I did what I could and that sometimes, it's just not in my control. Lord, I can't change others but You can change my heart.

Let your light shine through me, and let me learn to let go.

My October : Bestfriends, 10lbs and E

This year, I can honestly say I am beyond ready for October to be over. My favorite month just isn't so favorite when every memory I want to make is 7,000 miles away. Don't get me wrong, I still have a special place in my heart for the month of pumpkin spice and chilly nights, but that place is occupied with a longing for my sweet husband to be back in my arms.

That being said, October hasn't been a complete bust. Quite the contrary, October has been quite kind to me. I've heard from E regularly through phone calls and one attempted session on Skype which is a reason to celebrate all on it's own. Work is going slowly but surely and I'm getting a much better grasp on my position which is something I didn't know would happen so fast. I truly thought I'd be struggling to keep my head above water for at least another three months and now I'm succesfully treading calmly. I'm not swimming, but treading? I'll take it.

I've also lost ten pounds as of Monday on my diet! I'm totally stoked. I know this is going to sound crazy but I feel different. I don't feel super skinny or anything, but I can defintely tell that I've lost a little weight. My clothes don't fit differently or anything, but I can just tell in the way I walk that I've somehow changed a bit. It's defintely motivation enough for me to just keep going. Today for the first time in over two weeks I had a meal that was totally horrible for me, and I feel it. I feel crummy just thinking about it but I actually feel bad. It makes me want to cook for myself for the rest of the week and just forget about the idea of going anywhere but my own kitchen... I will defintely not be rushing out to eat anytime soon!

Probably the brightest little nugget of good that has come out of this October is seeing my bestfriend for the first time since January. Honestly, I missed him so much. I can remember when we had this huge fight, thinking how horrible he was for things he said but looking back, I said things that were just as mean. Yes, my feelings were hurt but his couldn't have been left unscathed by my own anger. It literally makes my heart smile to know that things seem normal again. And not the same psycho normal from before where we were constantly bickering and tearing each other apart. It's seriously been such a blessing to have him "back"... even though, I don't think we'll ever not be bestfriends. Through it all I never considered us anything less than best friends; we were just best friends who didn't talk. So dumb.

Even though October is only half way over, I still consider it My October. Not because my birthday is in it, but because it's just truly a magical time of year. The spirit of the season and the seasons that are coming just envelope my life around this time of year and despite the fact that I thought it would be horrible without my E, it's surprised me and given me renewed hope and revitalized faith.

I'm still ready to see October scurry along, followed by the next seven months, but if I have to experience them all one-by-one, I hope they're all as kind to me as this one.

October, you never disappoint me.

Life Change

I'm too lazy embarrassed to go back through my blog and count the times that I said I was going to start dieting and excercising. To be honest, every time I wrote a post I really did want to start. But I didn't want it enough and never did. When my husband used to talk about wanting eat better, work out, etc. I used to all always say, "when you're ready to really do the work, you'll do it." So I took my own advice and just started.

And oh my goodness, it has surely been the best decision I've made in a LONG time!

I officially started my diet last Monday, so it's officially been over a week since I've started. I decided that I would simply change my diet, and would worry about working out later. By the end of the first week, I had lost a little over four pounds and was slightly encouraged to keep going, but felt like four pounds was just a small drop in the bucket of what I really wanted to lose.

I downloaded an app on my iPad called "My Fitness Pal" and it's been a lifesaver. I honestly don't know that I'd still be sticking with this new routine if it weren't for that app. Basically it's all about accountability. You can track what you eat and it tells you how many calories, etc. are in each meal and reminds you what you have left for the day. You can enter your weight daily, measurements whenever you want to and set goals for yourself. It's been an essential part of the start of my weightloss.

I figured that after about a month I'd start hitting the gym, but yesterday something super, totally WIERD happened. I was craving a workout. At first I thought maybe I was just tired of being cooped up in the office all day, but by the time I got home I was itching to put on my running shoes and workout clothes and I was rummaging through drawers looking for headphones. I can't lie, if the gym wasn't literally across the street from my apartment, I probably could have shut myself up and settled for 10 jumping jacks and an apple. But the gym IS outside my front door, so off I went. And it wasn't terrible! I spent about 30 minutes on the elliptical before heading home to attempt p90x with my sister. I say attempt because as it turns out, the horror that was the first 15 minutes of the DVD (during which I had to stop about 234 times) was actually only the warmup.So I've got a ways to go but I've already lost five pounds so I can't be hurting anything by trying...

It might sound silly, but I have this image of what I'll look like when Ethan gets home and what I look like now is not it. I can't wait to surprise E and make myself proud with what my results will be in May.

I can't believe I'm actually excited about dieting and working out... who would have thought?

If I Could Turn Back Time

Yesterday was October 6th. Over a year ago when Ethan and I were engaged we set that date to be the day we would be married in front of our family and friends. I have always dreamed of an October wedding and it crushed my soul to wake up yesterday in a bed that was far too big for one person. The weather was beautiful and it even rained last night; it's good luck for it to rain on your wedding day. It would be have been the perfect day, and for some lucky couples out there, I'm sure it was.

I was angry that I couldn't have my special day yesterday, and I almost let it ruin the fact that I was already married to the love of my life. If I could back in time and not tell a soul that I was married, I think I would. It isn't that I'm embarrassed of being married or that I think I made a mistake, but so many people judged us and gave us a hard time. I lost touch with my best friend and I can't help but think that it had something to do with the fact that I got married. If I could go back in time, I would have had him at my ceremony.

But to be 100% honest, the only two people that mattered during that ceremony were probably the two that ended up the least happy with the outcome. It would have been just as special had it have been me, E and a justice of the peace. That is really all I wanted to begin with. I let too much influence me into having this makeshift small elopement at home and it was so unnecessary... it cost more than money; it cost friendships, family and memories.

But it's in the past and I can't turn back time. I will still hold dear the memory of calling Ethan my husband for the first time, saying our vows and just being married. Because in the end, I wouldn't trade being married already for anything in the world. As much as things didn't change between us after we said, "I do," things did change. I loved him harder and a bit different. I saw him with just a slightly different attitude and as absolutely corny as this sounds, I felt so complete. I found the one whom my soul loves.

There are certain things that you don't understand until you experience it. For example, if you have never experience sleep paralysis, you will never ever understand how completely terrifying it is. And I never completely understood what it meant to find the one my soul loves until I was married to my husband. I found him.

So while I'm not 100% sure what the entry is supposed to be about, I felt like I was obligated to write a glimpse of what I was thinking yesterday. I went from angry to sad, happy to confused, mortified to embarrassed, depressed to at peace. It was a rough day and I'm glad that it's over.

I don't regret being married. Let me repeat, I do not regret being married. What I do regret is the way it happened. I wish I could have done it 100% privately, with no one finding out. If I could turn back time (please cue Cher in the background), I'd be keeping the world's sweetest secret and for a solid year and ten months, the only four people who would know I was a Mrs. would be me, my husband, the Army and a judge. I think that would have been entirely romantic. A marriage is, after all, a very private thing between two people. Who needed to know? No one.

But people know. And as much as I go back and forth between wanting a ceremony to renew our vows and not wanting one, deep down I am so freaking excited to have one. I cannot wait to write my own vows, stand before my family, husband and God and reaffirm my commitment to him. I can't wait to wear my dress, have beautiful pictures taken and celebrate not only our marriage, but our entire relationship that spans for seven years. I can't wait to celebrate the fact that we made it through a deployment, to celebrate my husband coming home.

I know it will be a beautiful day and that those that truly matter the most will still come, despite what my sister calls it being a "fake wedding." I just have to get through these next several months of being alone with my thoughts.

This deployment is surely taking its time... my favorite month is dragging; I wish it would just fly by.

What I love.

A small part of me believes that the weather this week was God's way of telling me that He understands. My favorite month started out hauntingly beautiful with heavy rains, wind, low temperatures and the reminder that I will still praise Him in this storm. Mostly, it's been a slow start to my favorite time of year but I have high hopes that it will surprise me in ways I don't really understand.

On the biggest whim today I bought an iPad 2 from someone that I'm friends with on Facebook. They are a married couple that E and I met when we were visiting a church in Hickory months and months ago, and while we didn't end up staying at that church we left feeling good that we had met many good people who truly changed our lives for the better. This particular couple bought this iPad a few months ago, but realized that selling it was the best decision financially for them. Since I've kind of tossed around the idea of wanting one for awhile, and they needed the money, I felt a bit better about the discounted splurge. I've tried telling myself that Jesus wanted me to have this iPad but that sounds a bit silly. I wanted this iPad, Jesus wants me to help people. Win-win, right?!

But the real win didn't come from the iPad. After spending this money without talking to E I started to get nervous about telling him. This was the first "big" purchase I made without talking it over with him, and he had recently told me he considered a larger purchase himself but decided not to because he knew I'd say we didn't need it. I felt bad at first. And then I had to rationalize with myself that I couldn't call him. I didn't really know the next time I'd be able to discuss something with him and even if he did call, I couldn't be sure that he would be in the right mood to even talk about it. Would he be mad? Apathetic? I did it anyway. It was kind of unnerving. 

I sent E a message on Facebook, hoping he would see it before we talked again. About an hour later I got the most heartwarming surprise. He responded in a way that I genuinely didn't expect. I love my husband so much that sometimes I feel like I can't love anymore, but I always do. And I also know him well. He isn't one to express his emotions very freely and there are so many times I feel like I'm begging a brick wall to tell me how it feels. I know that he loves me and I don't need outward displays of affection like flowers to remind me of this, but sometimes it would be nice. And this message was the equivalent of a million dozens of the finest roses. Pure affirmation of his love for me, his pride in me as his wife and his trust in me. He didn't care about the money being spent and encouraged me to do things for myself... how could I not melt in my seat? When the love of your life pours his heart out to you in words - something he's so rarely confident enough to do - how can you not have a soul that just smiles?

I like my new iPad a lot. I love that I helped a family who needed the extra money. But what I really really really love is my God who blessed with me a husband who loves me.

October? Yes, Please!

The end of September comes with only the slightest, tiniest, teeniest bit of sadness. Perhaps one small percent of me is a bit scared for October to be here because...

...I've actually created a REAL budget

...I've actually created a MANAGEABLE workout schedule

...I've actually figured out an EDIBLE diet/meal plan 

...I've actually found ZERO reasons why this can't work

I know I talk about dieting all the time, working out all the time, etc. and I rarely ever do it. But September is already gone! I've sort of put this whole "change my life" thing off until I can't anymore. If I don't start now, I won't be able to reach my goal before Ethan comes home and honestly, that motivation is the best I've had in years. I don't want him coming home to me like I am now; the person he left behind is unhealthy, out of shape and not taking the best care of herself. How can I be a good  AWESOME wife if I don't take care of myself? I don't think I really can. 

So I'm scared because I know that this is pretty much IT. Now or never, so to speak. I don't want to let my husband down, I don't want to let myself down. I think that's why I've put this off for so long... I'm totally scared that if I start I might fail and well, sometimes not starting is way easier than failing.

but it's now or never, right?

So the other 99.9999% of me is ABSOLUTELY, POSITIVELY stoked for October! It has, for as long as I can remember, been my favorite month out of the whole year. It will be much less eventful this year; I won't have as many festive things to do, pumpkins to pick or people to spend it with, but I will experience it anyway. I am going to try my best to make the best out of something I've always loved so, so much. I looked back on pictures from last October and it brought happy tears to my eyes... the friends I've lost touch with, the one who I'm not allowed to talk to, the husband who's thousands of miles away... I've got the best memories and can fondly remember a time in my life that I felt so blessed and loved and surrounded by people who were, and in a way still are, so much like family. 

I truly pray that the magic of October brings something new and exciting for me. I don't really know how I'm supposed to meet new people because I've never, ever been good at that, but I've come to realize that sitting in my apartment being scared for E, praying that William lets Lindsey be friends with me again - as if she's innocent in all this and I should even want someone like that to be my friend again - and wondering why I'm always ending up on the dumped side of a friendship isn't going to magically fix my problems and bring my friends back. Sad but true, it's time to refocus my energy. I've apologized to who I can apologize to, kept my hopes up for too long and I'm finally accepting that what's in the past is simply that... over and in the past.

The end of September is also a super incredibly exciting thing because that means we are officially ANOTHER MONTH DOWN ON THIS DEPLOYMENT! Technically our boys didn't leave the US until the 3rd of August, so Oct. 3 will mark two months but still... an entire, full calendar month has passed! I cannot begin to describe the feeling of relief that two months are down...in some ways the time seems to be dragging and in other ways it's flying right past me. I can vividly remember the feeling of never wanting to let get of E the night I had to leave him at Bliss before they deployed, and the wash of relief as I drove away knowing that I could finally, finally stop dreading the deployment and begin dealing with it. And I am super proud to say that I've dealt with it much better than I ever thought I would. The Lord has surely blessed with me with a peaceful mind, a calm energy and the occasional cry that reminds me how much I truly love my husband...who is more and more handsome every time I see a picture of him.

Lord, thank you for blessing us with another month. Thank you for keeping Ethan and the 151st safe, and for giving those of us back home the strength to make it through this deployment, too. I pray that you continue to watch over our men and be with them constantly. Remind them of your protection, love and peace and protect them from the enemy. Lord, I pray for those who are seeking to bring harm to our loved ones as they know not what they do. I pray that their hearts open to you and that through Christ they find salvation, forgiveness and the concept of loving others. Lord, forgive me for falling short in my duties as a wife and help me to be the best system of support for my husband, even when the miles separate us. 

Thank you God, for another night and thank you for October.

Amen!

Goodbye, Summer!

Fall is so almost here. As summer makes her grand exit this week by drenching us with muggy rains and fierce winds, I can't help but get excited. Fall is my favorite time of year. My favorite day is fast approaching and even though I'm beyond happy to see the heat waves of mid year disapper, I'm also filled with sadness that my husband isn't here to enjoy the season with me. The night he got down on one knee and proposed, I never imagined that we'd be half a world apart and already married within a year.

Fall brings my favorite things to life; the smell of bonfires, crunchy leaves, comfort food, sweaters and the excitement that Christmas time is right around the corner. But this fall was also supposed to bring new favorite things, like our wedding on October 6th. Since I was little, I dreamed of a fall wedding. I dreamed of saying our vows at dusk in the midst of a million candles, of the sweet smell of spices drifting through the sanctuary and of crisp air as we danced the night away outside among family and friends. Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't trade my elopement with E for anything in the entire world, but I'm allowed to be a little sad that during our first fall together, we're actually apart.

Hearing my sweet husband's voice, though... I'll tell you. There is no other sound as sweet. When I get a phone call, or see him online during a rare occasion, my heart skips beats and I forget about the seasons of the year, the minutes of the day and the distance we have between us. It's as if for a brief moment, we're in the same place. I welcome so many parts of what fall brings, but maybe for the first time ever, I'm excited because it means it's one day closer to fall being over. Because once fall is over, winter can begin. And then it can end. And then spring can come, and go... and then my husband will be home.

I never knew what it was like to look forward to things just so they could hurry and pass, but then again, I've never lived this long with my heart an ocean away from me.

Goodbye, Summer. You won't be missed!

Before I Knew I Was White

When I was very young, before I knew that my skin was white, I walked right up to a girl exactly one month younger than me and I asked her to be my best friend. And we were. We were completely inseparable for years and I was completely and utterly clueless that we were different. I was completely oblivious to the fact that my mom was called names for taking a little white girl and a little black girl to the mall and - gasp - letting them hold hands, laugh and play as little girls do. I would have been mortified to learn that there was a bad name that someone could call my best friend just because her skin was darker than mine and neither of us really knew why her hair products didn't quite work on mine they way they were "supposed" to. I let her do my hair anyway, and only after her mom stopped us did I realize that I didn't need oil in my hair. 

Kindergarten passed. Inseparable. First grade passed. Inseparable. Second grade passed. Inseparable.

My childhood was kind to me. Perhaps I was sheltered, living with a mother who didn't want me exposed to the harshness of the world. Maybe I lived in the most progressive house in my county. Either way, I didn't learn about the "N" word until I heard it at school one day. I remember going home and asking my mom what it meant. I let the word roll off my tongue as calmly and as naturally as if I were asking someone to pass me the salt at dinner. She was mortified. Why was it so bad? Wasn't it just a word? And then, a brief lesson in history ensued. Wait. You mean to tell me that some people don't like black people because they're black? That's silly. I went back to school and my whole world was different. I knew. I knew that we were different. Not because we were different, but because this word existed. Because the mentality behind this word existed, my best friend and I were no longer the same. We never would be.

Maybe she knew far earlier than I did that she was black. Don't get me wrong - I saw her skin but I did not know that it was supposed to define her. I didn't know that when people looked at her they were supposed to see Tiffany the Black Girl and not Tiffany My Best Friend. I didn't know what the world was teaching us.

Flash-forward to today. We are so, so different. She is beautiful with a smile and figure that I envy. She's almost done with school, but she's single and living the college scene cities away. I'm married and in the same town I grew up in. And we are jaded. The world has pitted us against each other and the world has a surely seen a show.

And it breaks my heart.

At 21, we have both grown into our own skin - hers black, mine white. We have embraced our history - hers sobering, mine embarrassing. But neither of us truly understand it. Neither of us can go back in time and figure out why these things happened to us. And we deal with it the only way we know how. With anger towards those who persecuted the innocent, with a wall of defense built high, with recreated memories of our ancestors being sold into slavery and our ancestors owning slaves- images neither of us have seen, but that we are taught to hold on to.

I will never know what it's like to purchase, torture and withhold the freedom of a human being just because the color of their skin is different. Tiffany will never experience being sold, forced to labor, or the feeling of living in America without being free. But society tells us to hold on to the idea that it could have been us; and because of that, we are infintely different.

I pray my children never forget the horrors that lie embedded within American history; without acknowleding the past, it's all too possible that it may repeat itself in the future. But I pray that my children have a softer heart than my generation. I pray that they realize that while they could have been born long ago, they were not.

There are so many beautiful people out there, waiting to connect to us. I pray that my children grow up without coming home to me one day, asking what a word means before realizing that everything they thought they knew was socially inaccurate.

I pray my future child and Tiffany's future child meet one day and fail to realize that they're different. In reailty, they are exactly the same.

Praying for The Enemy

I was sitting in Mrs.Saine's fifth grade class when the announcement came on the intercom for all grades fourth and above to turn their televisions on. History was being made, they said. Lesson plans were put on hold, teachers stepped out of the spotlight and all attention was directed to the small TV mounted in the corner of the room.

As a child, I had absolutely no comprehension of why the attacks on the World Trade Center buildings were carried out. I had no concept of the repercussions of the actions of the terrorists who completed their mission and never dreamed that 11 years later, our country would still be without peace because of it.

I also never imagined that 11 years later, I'd be sitting at home while my husband is fighting the war that began after the events that unfolded over a decade ago on this very day. I've tried not to think about the attacks much, but it's been impossible these past few days. I get really emotional when I think about them. When I think about the lives that were lost, the families that have been forever affected by the terrorism I just get overwhelmed. Because the fact is, victims of these attacks are born every day. Children whose families will be KIA, who will never know the families who lost lives years ago and who will one day themselves fight in a war that they understand very little about.

It breaks my heart; nearly shatters it into pieces.

It also kills me to know what these attacks have done to us. When Osama Bin Laden was pronounced dead, Americans cheered. They celebrated death. When did we allow ourselves to become so like them? I still, to this day, can't celebrate the death of him. To know that he wasn't a  Christian, to know he didn't have any remorse and died with pride does nothing more than break my heart. I can't find it in myself to be happy or to feel as though we somehow brought about justice; we did not bring the war to an end or the dead to life.

Every night, I walk with God. I take Mariska outside and as I'm letting her run, I pray. I pray for my husband, his unit, our troops, family, friends... I lay my burdens down and ask for forgiveness. And then, I pray for the enemy. At first, it was hard. It was disgusting for me to pray for those who plant the IEDs, who shoot blindly and then run, and who disguise themselves as allies before killing our men; however, I kept going. And I'm still going.

I can't describe the feeling of praying for someone who society tells me I'm supposed to hate. I mean, I'm an army wife. Shouldn't I hate the enemy? Shouldn't I get a free pass because my husband's in Afghanistan amidst hostile fire? There's a peace that comes with praying for even the most evil walks of life; there is hope for even the most lost souls.

As we go through the motions of the day, watch memorials and remember the moment that stopped us in our tracks and have, for many, prevented us from fully moving forward, it will be a challenge to hold back tears and anger. But throughout the day, my prayers will fall on my husband. They will fall on the families who lost loved ones, the soldiers who have given the ultimate sacrifice and perhaps above all, for the soul of the enemy.

Matthew 5:44-45 You have heard that it was said, 'Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.' But I tell you: Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be sons of your Father in heaven 

On Edge

I'm on edge, my priorities have shifted and it's been a blessing and a curse.

A few days ago at work, a mom sent me an email that was nothing out of the ordinary. There was an issue with her invoice, she had questions, etc. We exchanged a few emails before I received a phone call from a third party who was connected to the issue at hand. After hanging up, I was completely baffled. As it turns out, the casual email exchanges I had been making - emails that were pretty much routine and mundane - had infuriated the mom. She wasn't just upset with me, she was pissed. I was completely thrown for a loop. The issue was such a small problem that I knew we could easily resolve, but this mom was out for blood. It wasn't just business with her anymore, either; she was personally angry with me. As soon as I found out that I had upset her, I called her directly. I apologized profusely for completely missing the fact that she was upset, reassured her that all was well and that I was going to fix the problem. Still, the mom remained angry. I hung up, once more baffled.

I sat in my office, lights off but plenty of natural light flowing in through the oversized windows. I turned on Pandora to my "Classy" station that rarely seems to fail me, minus the occasional Avril Lavigne appearance that is promptly thumbed down. I re-read the emails, tried to put myself in the mom's shoes and analyzed the issue over, over, over, and over again. I called several people to consult with before proceeding - had I made an error that I was missing? Had I said something between the lines? Had I used a professional word that doubled as a slang word on the side?

After an hour of contemplating my next move, I gazed over at a picture of my husband. An 8x10 photograph in a $5.00 frame, placed on the corner of a table, held my entire world. I knew he was out on a mission, for him it was probably 11:30 at night. I imagined what he was doing. Was he "safe" in the truck, or had he been instructed to get out of the vehicle to walk the side of the mountain? Was he talking to the native people, trusting what appeared to be a friendly invitation to communicate? Was he taking direct fire - a situation I so desperately prayed he would never encounter? Was his truck moving - or had it been hit? Was he asleep? Awake? Cold? The questions that will never have answers came flooding into my mind when it finally hit me. This is why I don't get it.

I don't get why a mistake on an invoice is a big deal because the reality is, it isn't. I'm thankful God has given me this life, deployment included. It has truly changed my life and I don't think I can ever go back to the way I was. Experiencing pain and suffering in just the smallest forms of worry, anxiety and stress, have altered my perception of importance and what it means to spend time in frustration rather than turning it over to the Lord. Pre-deployment, I would have understood why this lady was so upset because I would have been worked up and I would have fed off of her own negativity and stress; now, I realize that these are the things that are so insignificant. These are the things that - and excuse me for getting a little Baptist on here - that the  devil uses to separate us from God. These are the things that do not matter, but that we allow ourselves to put emphasis on instead of realizing that there really are things greater than simple mistakes and self-created problems.

But not everyone has made this revelation yet - and even I forget it. And this makes for truly interesting conversations. As executive director -and no, I never get tired of working that into my blog- I am hit with problem after problem, day in and day out. People literally come barreling into my office with loud voices, hurried and frantic explanations of what they consider pressing issues and sometimes I find that they are vastly disappointed in my calm state. Yes, I know the basement is flooded. No, I don't have a hammer. Yes, I know the kiln has a broken part. No, I do not care about what size the mirrors are. No, I'm not sure if we're insured for that. Yes, I found the contract that someone forgot to sign. No, tickets are not selling. Yes, it's true the wall fell down.

Life happens. Mistakes happen. But there are bigger things than these.

That being said, I admitted that sometimes I forget this lesson. After avoiding political talk on Facebook for months, I finally posted a status about my support for Obama. It wasn't long before a young person commented on my status with very amateur facts; clearly in opposition to my Facebook status I saw one thing and one thing only: myself. I was reminded of my 8th grade self sitting in class, proudly wearing my Kerry / Edwards t-shirt, debating with my language arts teacher about why George Bush should not be president again. My points were decent but not well researched. I was passionate - completely passionate - with valid points but poor execution. I was blessed to be surrounded by many people who helped shape my debating abilities, who taught me more about what I believed and who even made me realize I wasn't quite as liberal as I thought. Slade is me, but on the other side.

So I did what those before me did for 8th grade me. I talked some, debated minimally, articulated my genuine pleasure in seeing his passion and attempted, in some kind of way, to help shape who he would become in terms of political involvement and informed citizenship. I know it sounds crazy that all of this was running through my head, and honestly it wasn't like I had an internal dialogue at the time, but in essence that was what was happening.

And then, it happened. I sort of kind of lost my cool. I mean, I didn't really lose my cool but I was on the brink of it and I do not like the brink. These days, I like to stay pretty far away from the brink because it's much safer, less tiring and let's be honest, no one really likes that guy who always gets snappy and know-it-all-ish. But he questioned my prayer for our troops; my husband.

And that just did it for me. I had to dust off my soap box because it had been awhile, but I managed to step up on it for a quick second and blow off a little steam. It wasn't until writing this that I realized something profound through all of it; four years ago, disgracing the president would cause my blood to boil and my anger to rage but today, it took questioning a part of my faith to invoke passion and petition. I think there is something to be said for that, although I'm not quite sure what that something is just yet.

Of course, it had to be a member of a family that I happen to love a lot that started a conversation with me. That part, perhaps, makes me the saddest because I never want to alienate those who I hold dear for the sake of making a point. It's ironic, because his mom is actually the person who - months ago - told me about how her ancestors have prayed Psalm 91 over their deployed children since the Civil War, and to do it for my husband while he was gone. And I have done this and I can't even describe the way it has changed me. Starting my nightly prayers off with that Psalm truly sets the most incredibly tone for my prayer, especially for the prayers meant for my husband.

Maybe I've been up for too long with few hours of decent sleep, or maybe I've been staying strong for a few weeks too long but I'm feeling less than relieved at the moment. Maybe I need a good night's sleep and coffee in the morning to make me realize I should learn to let these things go - even the things I think are worth stepping up on my soap box for.

I'll consider this a lesson learned, an experience experienced. For tonight, I have prayers for my husband, prayers for my Facebook friend and prayers for myself.

Nightmares.

Last night I had the worst dream ever. I don't often have bad dreams, or dreams that make me confront my fears, but I guess my subconscious had a lot on her mind because it completely ruined my sleep.

It was my vow renewal day, and I was sitting in a room with Ethan getting ready when I started to send text message to people asking if they were coming. One by one, I got messages that said, "I'm so sorry we can't make it," or, "I completely forgot!" I looked out into a big room that was set up for a ceremony and saw three or four seats, out of maybe 200, occupied by older people who were falling asleep. Then I woke up.

I wonder if I will ever get over my fear of complete rejection and feeling of just not belonging. I swear this dream had me in tears when I woke up. Sometimes I can pump myself up and convince myself that people will be there, but then I always manage to remember that just because I wish I had a huge guest list of friends and family, I don't. I wonder if it's even worth it, honestly.

I'm already married. And as my sister says, who wants to go to a fake wedding anyway?

The dream of wearing my dress and celebrating in style is far overrated, I guess. At least without a ceremony, I won't have to face the fact I have no bridesmaids left.

If E were here, he'd make me feel better.

Goodbye, August

Woah!

Where did August go? Today is the last day of the month and it's so, so exciting for me. A full month has passed since I've seen E which means an entire month of this deployment is officially over! I'm so blessed to say that it truly feels like just a month has passed. I won't go as far as to say that it passed by quickly, but it certainly didn't drag. I've heard that the first and last month are the hardest, so I'm hopeful that the rest of this deployment passes by in the same way. While I'm always thankful for the days and months God gives me to live, I certainly can't wait for the next eight to pass by.

August wasn't just about getting the first month of deployment down. While I almost always talk or write about how deployment affects my life, I realize that there are other things I've got to focus on and experience on my own. In that aspect, August really challenged me and I can say that there have been just as many ups as there have been downs. 

My job has been such a blessing. Financially, it's made us as comfortable as we've ever been. When it comes to actually enjoying the work, well, I'm getting there. There have been some tough days that I felt like it was so beyond me to actually be an executive director, but there have been other days that leave me with a feeling that I really am making a difference. The days that I'm enjoying work are slowly starting to outnumber the days I wish I were back to making coffee, so I'm taking that as a sign that God is using this job as a vessel for me to reach into the community and do His work. 

I've also actually made the first steps to become healthier and I've lost three little pounds. No, three pounds aren't a lot but they really have motivated me to keep going. I've cut out fast foods, sweet tea and I've started to drink lots of water and cook healthier. I already feel myself changing which really makes it easier to wake up every day and keep going.

I've started to do a good "deep cleaning" of the apartment before fall gets here and I'm getting rid of a bunch of clothes that I don't really need or wear anymore. It really does feel nice to organize, label and purge things, even if it's just a small amount of "stuff" to go through.

August also brought a different kind of heartache that I experienced after Ethan deployed. I've mentioned it before, and truly feel like I've said all I can say but the fact is that I still miss who I thought was a good friend. I'm not sure if it's normal, but I do this every time. Every time I have a friend "leave," it takes me weeks and weeks to get over it; honestly even after time, I never really do. The weekends are the absolute worst because I get on Facebook and Twitter and see where people are connecting with their friends or out with their significant others and it just hits me: I'm alone with my dog watching TV. But I look at this as a blessing, too. For some people, the week days drag and the weekends fly so I'd rather be miserable for two days instead of five at a time. I still hold out hope that I'll get a simple text or call or email but the more time that goes by the easier it is to understand that I've been forgotten.

Because Fall is my favorite season, I think it will be a tough one to get through without E. I love going to the mountains for day trips, haunted trails, pumpkin patches, chilly mornings, turning leaves and all the other fun things about Autumn. This year, I know it will be much different. There are so many things that are different about this fall from those in the past. Traditions that I loved won't commence, activities that I enjoy with my husband or in a group won't be the same solo. I'm sure there will be moments when I'll feel like I'm missing something and that the life is unkindly moving past me while I watch from the sidelines, but I pray I remember that I must get past this season to see the spring when I'll see my E again. Apple festivals, haunted trails, Shatley Springs, late night walks in the park, Oktoberfest, birthday, Halloween, Thanksgiving, Black Friday... these things are things I loved in the past; these are things I looked forward to and got comfortable with because they just happened. But this year, they are all sad reminders of things that have passed or things that will come and go or things that I just can't have anymore; I can't have a romantic walk in the part without my love, of course.

But just as August has come and gone, fall will come and go. It might seem impossible at times, but it won't be. With God all things are possible and I will surely get through even my most favorite time of year.

September, please be kind.