10 years, a reflection

This year I turned 31. In some ways this is abstract for me. Thirty is cute and trendy...like in 13 going on 30 - "Thirty, flirty, and thriving". But 31 - I'm officially IN my 30s now! In no way does it feel like 10 years since my 21st birthday, but if I had to pick one, I'd pick 31, hands down. No contest.

This year, my 31st year, I had the opportunity to spend the week of my birthday in the snow covered mountains of Colorado with my husband and his family. For someone from Wyoming, snow might be overrated. But for a native Texan who has spent EVERY Christmas in Houston, a white Christmas and more than 1 cm. of snow is pretty spectacular! Happy Birthday to me!

The best part of the cold, is having somewhere to be warm. In our case, we had a toasty warm cabin to stay in, or 'tabin', as my 3 year old nephew calls it. The fireplace was glorious and kept us nice and warm, thanks to Bill's (my father-in-law's)  many trips outside to bring in more wood. We were also stocked up on other winter essentials: hot cocoa, snuggly blankets, a new snuggly newborn nephew, a 3 year old bundle of energy, and furry animals -2 cats and 4 puppies.

On the day of my birthday, I was forbidden from stepping into the kitchen. Melissa (my mother-in-law), and Molly (my sister-in-law) made me an amazing dinner of Mexican pile-ons and a homemade chocolate cake. As if that were not enough, presents were piled high in my lap. I got some snow gear to help keep me warm, a personalized cheese board, and a gorgeous necklace from my sweet husband.

There is a Garfield cartoon that was printed on one of my nightgowns when I was younger that said: "Hold me! Kiss me! Make me eat chocolate!" That's what this birthday felt like. I had my wonderful husband to hold and kiss me; and a family to prepare delicious food, chocolate cake, and spoil me with generous gifts! I had to pinch myself just to know that this was real. I am truly blessed.

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As for ten years ago, I dreaded my 21st birthday. It was the first birthday following the death of my friend. Grief consumed me. It felt like an endless pit, a black hole, or a vortex so strong that I wondered how I could manage to walk, talk, or even think. All of my daily routines, academics, any daily interactions seemed mechanical. The landscape of the interior was so bleak, all I could muster was a type of auto-pilot existence.

S-U-I-C-I-D-E. The word felt like a curse upon me. It was not an action I performed, but I felt responsible. If only I'd...(fill-in-the-blank). The guilt was endless. I had failed her. We all had failed her. We couldn't make her see that she was loved. We couldn't reach her...

And then there were those who blamed her. Who, without knowing her, heaped judgements on her: She was selfish. She was bound for hell. She was weak. She was cruel.
I could endure guilt more than such proclamations.

In the summer and winter breaks prior to that awful March day, I was as carefree as a child. My friends were a family of my choosing, and I cherished every moment with them. Three to five days a week, I spent in their company for impromptu outings: plays, museums, board games, movie marathons, dinner, picnics, and the zoo. Laughter and joy filled those carefree days. Sometimes my face hurt from smiling, sometimes I was too happy to sleep.

Now, grief chased sleep away. When I did sleep, I dreamed of my friend. Sometimes she was unhappy with her choice and begged death to release her back to life. I was powerless to help her and felt great distress. Sometimes, when I dreamed, it was as if she were still alive, as if nothing had happened. We laughed and had adventures just as before. These dreams were actually harder to bear because they felt all too real. When I awoke, I had to lose her all over again. Regardless of my dreams, each day, I woke up heavy with exhaustion and weariness.

Ten years ago, I prayed that my birthday could at least be a time of healing. I imagined all of my friends coming together. We would honor our friend's memory by enjoying each other's company. They would know my heart, and encourage me, knowing it was a hard day. But we would get through it together. There was hope!

This did not quite come together as I had imagined. Two of my friends from this cherished group either could not or would not come to my party. I was devastated! They were supposed to be there for me! Thankfully, some others came and rescued my party to some extent. I can't imagine how awful it would have been without them. But I had a hard time getting over what felt like such a betrayal.

In retrospect, I understand that everyone grieves differently, and sometimes people only know how to retreat. I also understand that my birthday is very inconveniently timed which makes it easy to forget or double-book. I have since resolved my issues with the offending members, and I understand that neither looked upon this as an opportunity to slight me. I only mention it to paint a clear picture of my brokenness at the time.

Now, this party did not occur on my actual birthday. It was something like the Friday or Saturday before. On my REAL birthday, Elisa made additional plans with me because A) She is my best friend! and B) It was my 21st birthday!

There is that right of passage that everyone must experience at 21, and that is going to a bar. We selected Tony's Tavern because it was close to home, and because there was karaoke. We did not want to sing ourselves, but it was a perfect people-watching opportunity.

I remember looking at the drink menu, and it was so abstract and foreign. The only alcohol I had ever had to date was a sip of Boone's Farm Snow Creek Berry, and I'm not sure that counts. Beer smelled like corn nuts, which I abhor, so beer did not sound appealing. Wines seemed far too sophisticated,
and I was a little bit scared that I would pronounce something wrong.  And then hard liquor was something that did not sound like it would agree with the burning tears that coated my stomach. So no mixed drinks for me! I longed for something familiar and safe, but not something I ordered with frequency. So, I did the unthinkable. I ordered a Cherry Coke, in a bar, on my 21st birthday.

The bar tender, I like to think it was Tony, himself, asked to see my license. Likely, because he suspected that I was 16 and trying to sneak into a bar covertly. He had long hair and a goatee and looked similar to Aaron Eckhart's character in Erin Brochovich (the motorcycler/ tattooed boyfriend). When he saw my license he looked up and smiled. He spoke with the gruff, raspy voice of a chain smoker and said, "Happy Birthday, sweetheart. I don't charge people for staying sober."

Cherry Coke in hand, I settled back in my chair to enjoy what I presumed would be bad karaoke. Only it wasn't! Elisa and I were delighted to enjoy talented singer after talented singer. For free! I swear these people rehearsed. And my perception was in no way compromised by alcohol, so you can believe me when I say- this was great music!

My birthday didn't start out liked I planned, but ended better than I could have imagined. Thanks to Elisa and Tony, and the talented karaoke singers of Tony's Tavern.

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Now, were circumstances different, the Tony's Tavern experience might have been a contender for greatest birthday, truly.  At the time, this was a fun night in the midst of terrible. But terrible was still winning, and though this gave me a reprieve from awful, I still held a heart full of hurt feelings from my other birthday party and the unwavering dull ache of grief was still there.

 But one of the biggest gifts that 10 years has given me is perspective. Perspective to know that things change. And even when grief seems all-consuming and never ending, great friends can still give you great memories that bring you joy long after the grief has abated. I didn't have that perspective then. I didn't know that 10 years later, I would have an amazing husband and a new family that loves me as their own.

So these are my thoughts I leave. When the good times are here, cherish them and be thankful. When you are heavy with grief or heartache, take time to remember those small reprieves from the terrible and the small bursts of joy. Keep a highlight of the day journal and be thankful for those moments, no matter how small. In time they add up. And in time, you will HEAL. Your Rocky Mountain High is out there, waiting for you.

Big Bend Adventure

Even a picture cannot capture the beauty of this place. It is rugged, beautiful, magnificent, grand, treacherous, and awesome.

We forget to respect nature. 

We forget how big our world is.

We forget to respect our Creator.

I couldn't help but feel renewed and see a broader picture here. One that does not include those details, worries, and stresses of the worlds and environments we create and participate in. A world apart. One that does not bend to our demands and our rules.

I could not help but think of Jesus. 40 days fasting in the desert. I was nearly at the point of collapse after a 4 hour hike. 40 days!!!! I feel like I get it now. The depth of his faith. The extremity of his temptation. I think part of me never really computed the temptation part. That it was real. That it was tempting. I always glossed over that part, failing to see his humanity through his divinity. But it all started to click for me on my hikes there. It was the best church I've experienced in awhile. It was definitely a spiritual experience for me. I might even venture to say an awakening.

I am honored that I had the opportunity to share this adventure with my husband. To see the big smile on his face as we drove into the park. Sheer joy and excitement. And complete awe.

I love this picture! It captures the exhilaration of seeing this place better than words can describe. It captures the joy of a beautiful memory together in a beautiful place.

This trip was exactly what we needed. Something had to give! To be clear, I would not say that we have experienced anything remotely resembling marital strife. We truly have a great life. I am thankful for him every day and vice versa. But I would say that our exhaustion, routine, worries, and stress were stealing joy. We had lost some perspective and forgotten what it means to relax. Oddly enough, relaxing = lots of sweat and funny hats with an inspiring backdrop.

Let me tell you. My husband really loves me. Remember that episode of Friends where Monica's hair is frizzy and awful? My desert hair is both poofy and strange but sweaty and limp at the same time. Mix that up with some major hat hair. That was me, the entire trip. I wore a hat most of the time 1) to cover up the craziness and 2) to protect my scalp from the relentless, scorching sun. 

But none of that seemed to matter. We were having a wonderful time, and we make a great team! 

Can't wait for many more adventures to come!

Vacation Recovery

For the last 4 days, I have been at a family reunion at Jellystone Park in Waller, Texas. I kicked off the adventure by running a million errands and then chasing my two bad dogs around the neighborhood in a dress and non-run friendly sandals in the hottest part of the day. Lots Of Sweat! I think I lost 2 lbs just then. At least that's what I'll tell myself. That's my consolation prize.  Dogs recovered = victory (even though I was really mad) -2 lbs = victory! Being late to pick up grandma was less than stellar, but we made it to the camp well before dinner time! We had some time to relax before eating the most enormous BBQ sandwiches I have ever seen.

Our family reserved 4 cabins. Clay and I got our own which was wonderful. To appreciate this fact, I should perhaps mention that last year, 7 of us shared about 400 sq. ft.

We spent more time outside in these past few days than I typically spend in 6 months time. We frequented the water park, played games, ate a lot, and played more games.  For the first time ever, I won Monopoly! That is something to celebrate!

The highlight of the trip for me happened on Saturday and involves 2 distinct events:

1) Decorating our golf cart for the golf cart glow stick parade. We surprised Corban, Creed, and Carys  with our decorations, and then picked them up at the pool at parade time.

2) My dad, who is not particularly fond of swimming or pools, went swimming multiple times and went down slides repeatedly, because Corban was so excited about it! I wish I had pictures of Dad on the slide. I was busy decorating the golf cart so I didn't see it.

All in all, a great trip! But exhausting...

Yesterday, after we returned, I spent about an hour just laying in my own bed. Camp beds were extremely firm, like sleeping on plywood. Never has my bed felt so luxurious. I was extremely thankful!

Today, all of the sun and water has caught up with me. I am  thankful to have a lazy day to recover. My poor husband is at work today. I am so thankful for him and all of his help preparing for and unpacking for the trip. Tomorrow it's back to work for me. I'm officially in frantic, get-the-library-in-shape-before-school mode!