Love is in the air

Well today is Valentine’s Day or February 14th. For most of us it is a day used to celebrate our special someone or for others it’s an excuse to pig out on chocolate lol! I wasn’t big into this holiday, Easter and Halloween were more my jam, never expected flowers or cards mushy stuff. Even when me and Joe began to date I didn’t hold my breath yet I received flowers and I began to call them my “once a year flowers”. He’s gotten them several times since then but it’s our little joke. I’ll never forget it was the year he was on the road working and I received the strangest phone call at work from a woman saying she couldn’t deliver my flowers because she couldn’t get into the apartment building. I immediately laughed and said “That’s okay if you leave them at the front I can grab them later when I get home.” I continued my day and when I arrived home I had completely forgotten about them due to work but to my surprise I opened the door and there was a beautiful flower arrangement greeting me. I immediately called him and started crying because he didn’t forget and still found a way to surprise me. The front office ladies helped to by sneaking them inside instead of leaving them downstairs!

This year Valentine’s Day holds a slightly different meaning to me so we chose not to really celebrate today. It marks the day we first found Harold. When I originally scheduled my routine colonoscopy it didn’t even occur to me it was Valentine’s Day until the week approached and by then it was too late to switch. I still received my flowers although they came a day late but they were the least of what was on our minds.

What is love? A question I asked myself many times over the years. Now at age 31 I feel like I just now am beginning to understand what love truly is. As child I was taught that Jesus loves me and that my parents love me and that was good enough for me. Yet as I got older and began to date I thought I was ready for love so I would throw the word around loosely not meaning it but the other person was saying it so I should to right? Oh what I would give to tell myself back then! I thought I had found love again at the age of 22 but that was not love and thankfully with my mothers help and patience escaped what would have been a disaster. I know that I deeply cared for this individual but I now know love is not hurting someone emotionally or physically. At age 25 I still hadn’t found “the one” and I was beginning to wondered if I would ever be in love. After several bad dates thanks to online dating I vowed to just be by myself. That’s when Joe came out of left field! I never expected this tall skinny very intelligent man to be the one who would show me what love is. I don’t quite remember who said I love you first or have any spectacular story to go with it but after many bad dates a few bad relationships and 2 midlife crisis meltdowns I finally have found love. I still don’t think I truly understand what love is but to me love is me and joe. It’s the way he tucks me in at night, the way we laugh at ridiculous cat videos and the way he holds my hand. It’s the way I know his order at every restaurant we visit and the way he fills my gas tank or washes my car endlessly to keep it clean. Love isn’t just a feeling it’s also an action. To quote one of my favorite movies “Love is like the wind, you can’t see it but you can feel it.”

On this Friday February 14th 2020 my wish for all of you is that you experience some love today. Whether it’s a hug or a kiss from your someone special husband girlfriend grandchild or child or a card or flowers. I hope everyone has a Happy Valentine’s Day!!!!

It’s not a bad life it’s just a bad day.

Last Monday I gave up. I threw in the towel, waved the white flag, extended an olive branch however you want to say I quit. I literally looked at Joe with tears streaming down my face and said “please let me die just let me go”. Of course he did what he always does pulled me close and just hugged me while I cried kicking the bed flailing like a caught fish and throwing a temper tantrum like a 5 year old. After about 10 minutes I got it all out and settled down and was tucked in with blanket and presented with a cup of hot tea. He’s a pro by now at handling my outbursts bless him.

I think the hardest part of this new journey we are on is the mental aspect. No one tells you the mental state and how your emotions will be pushed to their limits. Depression is probably the #1 thing I have fought the hardest against this past year. Most of you know that have given a temporary ileosomty back in feb 2019 which basically means I go to the bathroom in a bag that was attached to my lower right abdomen. I remember waking up from my surgery, which was an emergency surgery since I hadn’t eaten in months thanks to Harold blocking the way, and not being able to look at it. I felt so embarrassed, gross and yucky like I was a toddler who had pooped in their pants. The nurse who came into help me told me “You control your stoma, don’t let it control you”. Well that’s easier said then done. Most days I lived in oversized t-shirts and sweaters not wanting to go out because I felt like a freak of a nature. The days I did venture out were quick trips and I was always on high alert to where the nearest bathroom was. About 3 months after I received my little squish I finally was comfortable enough to start venturing out and man life got easier. I still felt like a freak always concerned my bag was showing or I would let out a fart that everyone would hear but I needed more human contact than just Joe and my mom and dad.

Then came the big news! I was told my final surgery would include tumor removal and reconnection of my intestines although there was a 20 percent chance they would not be able to reconnect. FINALLY! I would be normal again and be able to go to the bathroom like a normal person. 8 months of hell and putting on bags was about to come to an end. I began to pack up my supplies for others who would need them back at Duke and started ordering high waisted pants, shorts and cute little crop tops for when summer would arrive. October 2nd came and I remember thinking this was it I was going to wake up and finally be able to look down at my abdomen.

I awoke groggy and immediately pulled back the sheets only to find a huge bandage and another bag attached to my body. I felt like the world had just fallen around me and I began to cry small tears at first then huge crocodile tears. Despite all my hopes the decision was made in surgery to take down my ileostomy and to give me a colostomy. I just kept asking why? Why had they done this to me? No one would give me a direct answer and finally when I asked my surgeon for the 4th time he replied “We can hopefully reverse it in 2-3 years”. Years?! Not what I wanted to hear. The next few weeks were filled with tears and more tears as I got adjusted to my new squish. I began to sink back in to my freak of nature gross feeling and not wanting to leave the house. Joe tried his best to get me out but I just wanted to lay in bed and not move. I think I binged watched Netflix for 3 weeks straight only getting up to pee and eat food Joe brought home. Finally when it was time to go back to work I has to adjust to the new way and after a few days was feeling back to my old self. Work was a great distraction and it was tricky at first but soon I was able to tell when I would need to get to the bathroom and worked out a schedule. I felt like Sheldon on the Big Bang with his bathroom schedule lol!

It’s been 11 months since I began my ostomy life and I will probably never get use to it completely but like Stephanie said I can’t let it control me. It’s definitely challenging but I have to remember this was done to save my life and hold onto the hope of reconnection one day. I hope to one day like others, not be ashamed of the bag.

Yet on the other hand and I never said it out loud but I’ve been and still are some days depressed. The mental toll of having to be strong and positive throughout this process is grueling. I try to keep up the positive vibes and be strong. I have my good days and thankfully work and friends help to take my mind off of the things that trouble.

There’s a saying I believe hard in and that is that everything happens for a reason. I believe this with all of my heart. 2 years ago we moved into Novel NoDa and met people we now call family. I could not have survived these last 11 months without them. I remember how I met each and everyone of them and I remember the tears I cried when we left Novel to move back home. It felt like we were leaving home. No more seeing their faces every night or weekend brunches or going to someone’s apartment just cause. Soon others began to leave as well some going to other apartments while some move entire states (cough Jon and Rachel cough lol) but our montly crew remains strong. My girls got me through with lunch and dinner dates filled with drinks and adult beverages and more carbs than I can count. My guys greeted me with smiles and hugs like you get from big brothers. Always asking how I am and encouraging me to stay positive and you can do it meg! When I was forced to be contained in the chemo chair or during my days in the hospital or if it was a bad day I would smile and remember the good times and memories we shared from impromptu game nights to grabbing beers and drinks to the many meals at the beagle. When I was fighting for my life in the beginning I told myself “you’re going to dance at Matt and Nicole’s wedding and you’re gonna live to see baby Candelore be born” and dammit I did. I danced my heart out at the wedding in September and when Veda Joy arrived in July I cried at how beautiful she was. That’s what got me through it and is what continues to fuel me. I have been blessed with such good friends both at Novel and so many others in my life and as I quote from Toy Story 2, I am eternally grateful. I truly believe God put us at Novel and each one of those people in our lives not just to give us great friends but a support system.

I’ve had to learn it’s okay to say you need help and to have bad days. Before this I was a very strong willed and independent person always doing it myself never asking for help acting as of everything was okay. Everyone has bad days but you have to remember the good days outweigh the bad ones. God never gives us more than we can handle and I have to trust the process and the plan he has. I know there is a reason I’m going through this and the past troubles I’ve gone through. I told momma “God wasn’t trying to break me with all the bad things he threw at me. He was trying to show me how strong I am and he was preparing me because he knew my hardest battle was coming.” As far as being back to normal I do not know if I will ever be the old me but I’m learning to accept and take each day at a time. One foot in front of the other, step by step.

The Big C

Most of you reading this might assume by the title this is going to be another blog about cancer. Wrong. Not entirely but it certainly is a term used when talking about cancer. Intimidating for those who don’t have it but for those of us who have it, its just another term. I say this because right now in my life there is another big C. Commitment. The term men fear and women long to hear. I say this jokingly but truth is there is truth to that sentence, at least to my generation.

My parents have been married 46 years. 46 years seems like a life time yet in that life time they have raised 3 children (even though I tell people I only have one brother I actually have two) bought 4+ houses, moved cities, bought several cars for toting the crew around, pinched pennies to make ends meet when they were young and traveled the world in retirement all while having good days and bad days with each other. I tell mom all the time I want a life like hers when I’m old and she just chuckles. The phrase I remember my mom saying the most is “I’m gonna hit your father over the head with a frying pan.” LOL ladies who are married and in relationships you know this feeling well! I know find myself saying this somedays when Joe gets on my nerves. The other quote she always says to me when I call to complain about how Joe can’t read my mind or Joe is driving my insane is “Forever is a long time.” Yikes. Forever, permanent, eternity. Those words are slightly terrifying to a girl who can’t even commit to cleaning out her car when it gets dirty.

Background real quick: Met Joe while neither of us were looking for anything serious so we just casually dated for a year or so. However during that one year I kept being pressured by friends as to why we weren’t together, why doesn’t he want anything serious, why why why? So being the peer pressured individual I was I asked him one night why we weren’t together after 6 months. No surprise he ran and not a peep from him for 2 weeks. He had said he didn’t want anything serious which clearly in guy language meant zero commitment.

Yet here we are still together and we have weathered many storms and speedbumps that have been thrown at us. Trust me there have been moments when I have wanted to just run away from issues that have come up and have tried to self sabotage this relationship more times than I can remember because I have felt like being single would be easier. 

It has been 5 years since our first date and in that time we’ve lived together, have joint bank accounts, bought cars in both our names done everything married couples yet still aren’t married. Maybe one day soon though? Trust me folks I am that girl who has started planning her wedding in hopes the big day will come soon but truth be told I’m scared of that day. Commitment is terrifying. Hell I can’t even commit to folding my clothes how could I commit my entire life to someone. Needless to say I am not ready or am I?

Life had other plans and not only did we have “Big C” issues in one aspect of life we were about to another “Big C” to deal with. I remember when we found out I had cancer I sat him down and said “you can walk away and out this door and I will not be angry at you.” He replied “You took care of me when I was sick, now I will take care of you.” This was a big commitment to say the least and I wasn’t 100% sure at the end of this we would be together because I knew this wouldn’t be easy for either of us. I mean its once thing to take care of someone when they have a cold this was something way worse and no quick cure. I remember the first time mom left him alone with me to run some errands and left small instructions about my food, drinks and other small details since I was still on a bland diet and having cold sensitivity and digestive issues. As lunchtime approached I sent in my request of some chicken and applesauce and I received it and at first was confused than began to laugh. I had before me a plate of minced chicken so small it looked like it had been put in the processor and an entire jar of applesauce that had been poured into a bowl. Needless to say I did not eat but maybe half the chicken and 8 bites of the applesauce but I tell this story because it shows he truly was trying to take care of me in his own way like he said he would. Even before I was sick I would fall asleep at night or during a weekend nap only to wake up with the covers tucked around me and an extra blanket on top of me. As I got sicker and weaker I would see the worry in his eyes and as he would fret over me like a momma hen and I would return with snarky and mean remarks. I am not proud of those moments and I have ugly cried many times apologizing saying I do not deserve someone so kind and patient and he just hugs me saying its okay.

I’m starting to realize the same thing everyday and forever might not be so scary. Sure everyday isn’t gonna be a fantastic and there will be crappy days but lord knows if we can handle this crappy cancer journey I feel like we can take on the world! I still suck at cleaning out my car and I never put away my clothes lol which drives him insane but if those are our biggest issues I’m not worried. Our journey still is uncertain and we are both scared this disease will take me sooner than later but we are committed. Committed to fighting this nasty disease off and to fighting it together. He still covers me up at night and I still have my days when I am not the nicest person but we are no longer scared of THE BIG C. As the Jack Johnson songs says “Its always better when we are together.” We may not have 46 years under our belt but I look forward to the day when we do.

 

 

 

The year without Christmas

Well Christmas has come and gone and it just didn’t seem like the holiday season this year. As a child I remember trying to stay up as long as I could on Christmas Eve to waking up at 6am on Christmas morning and racing down the stairs banging on mom and dads door to wake up. No Christmas carols were sung and no presents were wrapped and stuck under the tree, instead we prayed for a Christmas miracle. Sadly the cancer returned and has invaded my lymph nodes but we caught it early and are gonna kick those cells to the curb. I remember my doctor telling me the news and as tears filled his eyes he said “We’ve caught it early this time.” I could tell him was truly sad and I simply asked ” I probably will live with this my whole life wont I?” The answer was yes.  After surgery in October we were told my chances of remission were 50/50 and due to the aggressiveness my chances were even higher. I guess I had mentally prepared for the return on it but wasn’t expecting it so soon. Silly me lol cancer never takes a break so why should I have believed I could.

He stepped out of the room to give me a moment after we discussed options and Devan, the nurse who has become more of a friend, came in. She asked me what I needed and I just lost it. I cried and clung to her as if it were momma and just let the tears flow. But after a few minutes I dried my eyes and talked for a bit before she too left. That car ride home was the longest drive I had ever made. I was tired emotionally and physically partly from the PET scan and when I got home I just crashed. No one was home so I just sat outside on the stoop for a bit soaking up the sun. Joe pulled up soon after having taken the rest of the day off and we just sat there him holding me while I silently cried. First sad tears then tears of anger and frustration. He asked how I was feeling and I replied “like I finally beat the level of a video game after a thousand tries only to die on the very next level.” My fellow gamers you know this feeling.

That was the end of my sadness. The next day brought a resilience within me that I would fight and not let this take over my life again like the past 10 months of hell. I vowed to eat more veggies and less sugar because if I starved my body of sugar what would the cells eat? I will not let this win. I have a wonderful life with lots more to accomplish and I will die one day when I’m old and gray.

Just my luck a few days later I left for Asheville to moms where everything is made with butter and love. Self restraint was not in short supply this past week and I did cheat a few times. I’m only human. Instead of gifts this year we chose to do the Winter Lights at the NC Arboretum and spend the holiday enjoying family. What a difference a year makes. Last year we sped through because I could barely walk due to being so sick and spent the night sitting down in pain wanting to just fall over and cry. This year I walked and walked and walked. I walked with Olivia and Joe, held hands with mom and took pictures with my father, laughed with my brother and made a wish on the wishing tree. I had never felt more alive and more cold due to the temperature dropping lol!

I have a second family, the Ildertons, and they have been a part of my life for 17 years. Cliff and Sara have housed, fed me and taken me as their honorary daughter. I like to think all my life speed bumps have helped prepare them for when the kids are older lol! I remember something their mom said a long time ago (2000s) and it never made sense until this battle began. YOU ARE A PERSON NOT A CATEGORY. She has always rooted for me and saw something in me that I never saw for myself.

For the longest time I refused to say I had cancer or talk about my diagnosis a lot because I didn’t want people to give me the look or think of me as this weak helpless person.Be honest when you hear cancer you think of sickness and commercials you see on TV. My mother can attest I am anything but weak and helpless lol! I didn’t want to be lumped into the cancer category because that is how people would see me. Then one day it all changed just like that and I discovered who I am.

How many of you can describe yourself? This is a common question nowadays on dating apps and job interviews which I find quite interesting truth be told. Before this I would have described myself with few words like adopted, Guatemalan, short. I am a person and proud of who I have become and not a category! Now I proudly describe myself as a daughter, child of god, girlfriend, strong and warrior!

As the new year approaches I have made a promise to myself not to lose this amazing new outlook on life that I have unearthed this past year. From a shy girl who felt helpless to a strong fierce woman who has found her voice, I have awakened something within me and I quite like it.

Friends and Family where ever you are, I wish you and your family a happy and blessed new year!

From beginning to end.

October 2018 started off as any other month, busy planning Halloween costumes, getting in the mood for sweater weather although it never really hits in Charlotte til November. But then suddenly the once healthy vibrant 30 year old became sick, struck down with strep. Silently the sickness that had been in her body for months crept in and she never saw it coming.

Fast forward 5 months later I was receiving the phone call that would forever change my life. I remember 2 weeks prior going in for a simple colonoscopy thinking “oh it’ll be fine I’ll be able to eat again”. To preface I hadn’t eaten a real meal in 4 months because my stomach would either erupt into pain or I wouldn’t have a bowel movement unless I chugged magnesium citrate. Which if you never have don’t. Oh that was not the case. For 2 agonizing days we waited patiently for the results of an abnormal biopsy. I remember sitting in the shower floor crying as the water poured down on me praying to God that if it was cancer to give me strength to keep going. I spoke to him saying I know it had been awhile since we had talked but I trust him and the plan he has given to me.

That Monday at 2:28 as I was preparing to wake up my little at work I got the call. THE CALL. It was almost like my body went into shock and I simply replied to the doctor “Thank you and have a nice day”. I went about my day as I normally would walking to get my kids from school and not even grasping what had just been said to me. All I wanted to do was keep going with my daily routine. Maybe the bad stuff would just go away if I did that. That afternoon was filled with phone calls to Mom and Dad and a few close friends and tears that were dried up quickly in the bathroom so my nanny kids wouldn’t suspect anything was wrong. That night I cried and cried as Joe held me saying with such positivity how we would get through this. That weekend we spent with friends as I broke the news and we just cried together and prayed that the outcome would be great.

February 24th would begin the hardest fight of my life, as I had gotten so weak I physically couldn’t walk up the stairs and had to be carried up and to my bed. That night the decision was made to drive to Duke and to be seen by doctors, the drive was long and filled with many tears. The next few days were filled with doctors, bloodwork, emergency surgery and the very real aspect that I was in the fight for my life.

There is not rest for the weary when you’re fighting cancer that’s for sure. By the time they  did another scan 3 weeks later we would learn I would need the most aggressive chemo and my tumor was advancing to stage 4 very quickly. So 2 weeks after surgery we began the first out of 8 round chemo and boy did it kick my ass. Again I prayed to God making my peace with him if it was indeed my time to go I would not argue. But good old mom came in telling me to fight because she was not going to bury her daughter and that I was going to fight and not give up because too many people were praying for me and for Harold to get out of my body. She was right as she always is. Most days were spent on the couch or in bed as mom tried to get me to eat and drink or held me while the chemo pain was so bad I just wanted to give up and roll over. 8 chemo treatments, 28 days of radiation and 2 surgeries under my belt I can officially say with gusto that I am cancer free and on my way to gaining my life back.

If this ordeal has taught me anything is patience and strength. I have been through more crap in my 30 years and in some cases have literally hit what I thought at the time was rock bottom. I realize know that God put me through all those trials not to break me but because he was teaching me strength and showing my how strong I truly am as he knew my hardest battle in life was about to come to light. I prevailed. I beat the statistics and even proved my doctors wrong. My oncologist said to me at my last appointment that he honestly didn’t think I was going to make it to the end. Kind of made me feel like the underdog or the tortoise who was slow but steady and won the race.

Before this journey started I was the girl who was shy in a crowd, never tried anything new and didn’t know her own inner strength.  I am strong and I am ready to face anything life throws at me. Some days are still filled with tears and temper tantrums because I just want to be normal again and have my old life back. I have learned though it’s okay to cry to be angry and upset. But I can’t let that stop me. I will never have the life I had before this and I am okay with that. All I can do I to continue to trust God and the plan he has for me. I have to keep going and keep moving foward.

“To the warriors who are fighting, to the ones who have just started the fight and to the ones who have fought and lost, we are all brave warriors in the fight”

 

Parking lot prayers

I was raised Lutheran and every Sunday it was Sunday school at 9:45 and church at 11. Every week like clockwork we would get dressed in our Sunday best, as we say in the south, after a delicious pancake or waffle breakfast and off we would go. Upon arriving mom would proceed to march me to my class where I was enticed by the snacks that were offered and then after it was off to church where I would scamper off to see Miss Hazel and collect my worthers original. My favorite part of church though was communion because mom would always walk with me and as we would kneel together she’d share her bread with me. I hit all the church milestones including my first communion, my first bible, confirmation, my senior sermon, summers at Lutheridge and was very firm in my faith. As we got older mom and dad got more lenient and some Sunday’s were missed but most Sunday’s I still continued to go.

As I got older I began to question my faith and eventually moving to Charlotte left me without a home church. I was introduced to several by friends but none of them seemed to be “my church”. I will admit there were times when I would question how God could exist and how could he let such terrible things happen in the world.

As with anything people move, people passed away and as I got older familiar faces became few and far. When the news of my cancer became public and I was added to the prayer list, I was amazed at the outreach of my home church back in Asheville. People I had never even meet were going up and hugging mom and dad crying with them saying “it’ll be okay”. The cards, well wishes and phone calls were all graciously welcomed and received thus beginning the infamous card table. Easter Sunday has always held a special place in my heart and that was the day I made my grand appearance back at church. Nervous as the first day of school due to not wanting to faint or be nauseous I made my way inside and sat down beside momma. But it was like no time had passed, smiles and waves from families I knew and some I didn’t.

They say God is present always and you just have to be quiet and listen.

Driving home yesterday I pulled off an exit to get gas since I didn’t want to test my luck on empty. So as I am swiping my card I hear “ma’am could you help me?” Turning around I see a gentleman standing behind me and proceeds to ask me for something to eat. I tell him no and explain that I have helped other people this way and was not about to be played for a fool. But the good in me speaks up and I root around and find a dollar and hand it to him. He then starts tells me his life story and how addiction is hard etc to which I say yes it is and harder than what I’m going through as the talk turns to my cancer journey. Next thing I know we are standing in the QT parking lot praying for me. I regret not remembering his name and I will probably never see him again. After he finished and I drove away I started thinking and I gave a little chuckle as if it was God sending me a little reminder he’s still here even if my faith falters a little.

Orange you glad I didn’t say banana

Summer is officially here. Bring on the humidity and the afternoon thunderstorms!

This also means it’s the part of the year where you seek the smallest part of shade in hopes to keep from melting to the ground or in the parking lots when you go shopping hoping your car will stay nice and cool. I literally drove around for 10 minutes in a parking lot because I was determined not to park in the blazing sun. It’s odd how in some areas of life or in some actions we can be so determined, like I am determined to one day prove to Joe I can actually keep my car clean 😂 I have a pretty strong will and determination in other areas of my life I will say. For example back years ago (more like 2 I think) I signed up to run a 5k. Granted I also thought I was some in shape athlete. Little did I know I was to be proven wrong!

So to set the scene imagine December in 15 degree weather and about 300 people huddling in a tent to keep warm at 7:00 in the morning.

The morning started off with me laying in bed debating whether or not to go and after about 20 minutes and a text from Joe’s mom saying she was on her way I drug myself to the truck and we hit the road to Huntersville. Mentally I was telling myself “why in God’s name are you doing this” while telling joe “I’ll be okay it’s not that cold”. When the race started we all took off running and I did good for about 20 minutes keeping a solid pace. Downfall ensued shortly after…

It was so cold it hurt to breath and I was getting passed by mom and dads running with kids and my music was not inspiring me at all. Then all of a sudden I saw it! A snack tent 😂 If you know me then you know my love of snacks. I proceeded to make my way over and browsed the selection of oranges slices and bananas ( I despise bananas, worst fruit ever, but in that moment I didn’t care) while everyone passed me eating on the go. Boy did I enjoy those oranges and bananas and stood there for a solid 10 minutes not moving. It was when I realized the 10k runners were starting to now reappear I figured I better move on. But suddenly I felt a surge of energy like the oranges were full of caffeine and Red Bull! I was determined to finish this race even though every thing hurt and I was so hungry and cold I wanted to quit. But finally the finish line appeared and there was joe and his mom searching for me. As I walked up they both asked where I had gone and what took me so long. My only reply was “I stopped for snacks” then I turned and walked to the truck and cranked the heat for a good 15 minutes!

That was the only and last 5k I will ever run.

Now as I approach my 8th and final chemo next week, I am searching and trying to dig deep for that same will and determination I had that day. This road has been so long, and unpleasant just as my muscles hurt and it hurt to breath in the cold air. But I’m so close.

The end is near, I just need to find my snack tent.

Odds & ends.

One hour and eight minutes is all it took to load 3 dressers, a head board, a king sized bed with box springs and 8 boxes of clothes and crap i refuse to throw out. Shoutout to my boyfriend and his brother for helping with all the heavy lifting! Thanks to my mother I have learned to downsize every time but still I think everyone has those little odds and ends that they think they will need in the future.

As I went through drawers and dressers looking at scraps of paper, old photographs, and whatever else I kept it brought back all kinds of memories that are part of my life story. I found my graduation invitation from 2006 where i had to literally walk across the stage and then sprint down the hallway to get to my senior ballet performance 45 minutes away. I tore up my engagement pictures from a horrible 3 year relationship that taught me how strong I was and what I deserve and reread the note he sent to me when I moved 2 hours away only to find myself laughing when i remembered about all the good times we had before the bad times hit. I found a picture of my two beautiful littles back when they were just babies in 2007 when i met them for the first time, who knew almost 10 years later i would call them family. Next came the tire repair kit that my brother gave me for when i got a flat tire. That adventure consisted of not calling a tow truck and my brother driving 30 minutes while on the clock for work just to repair it so I could save money. You also never know when you’re going to need a receipt from 3 years ago, a random old gummy bear, or a cellphone case to a phone  you haven’t had in 3 years. Maybe some things should go lol!

My mother is an amazing cook. Anything and everything she makes is delicious. I’ve never been much of a cook partly cause the one time I did I made uncooked lasagna and vowed never again.  but never the less in moving into the new house I decided to give it another go. So this past week I made stuffed pepper, ravioli bake, and meatloaf…and the winner was the meatloaf. And yes it was my mothers recipe.

When my grandmother passed on my mothers side, the one thing that was most important to find were her recipes.

Now in the south most women learn the recipes by heart and no measuring is needed you just know how much to put in. Butter is your friend and sunday dinners are most important as are family recipes. As my grandmother got older she was diagnosed with Alzheimers and didn’t always remember what or where things were. But as my mother found the ones she wanted to keep (after what felt like days of searching in a never ending basement) and as I found little trinkets and things i wanted, I silently thanked my grandmother for not throwing out her odds and ends despite everyone telling her to clean out the house.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Full of doubt

Woke up this morning to my alarm going crazy, a boyfriend with the sniffles and a noodle cat shoved between my back and the pillow and another cat just staring at me it suddenly dawns on me…why did I agree to move in again?

Let’s back track a few months…

So a few months ago my boyfriend approached me with the idea of moving in together. Now I’ve lived with guys before him included but I’ve always has my own place to retreat to when things got iffy so to speak. However this situation is non like any I’ve experienced.

Long story short due to his lyme disease and mercury poisoning, he moved back into his childhood house with his dad and younger brother whose around my age 26. So me being the cheap okay thrifty sounds better person that I am decided sure why not? Cheap rent, my own room and a younger brother who cooks dinner everyday…

What I didn’t expect was 2 cats the combined household items from me him and his dad plus all the stuff his mother left when she moved out in May.

So here we are with my official move date coming up in 5 days and I’m starting to panic a bit.

Do I really wanna move into what feels like a frat house? What if me and him don’t work for? Where will I go if it doesn’t work out? Will we live here for ever? And don’t me started on sharing a bathroom with 2 dudes.

As my mother said (in one of the 3000 phones calls I’ve made in the past 2 days) “just enjoy the good parts of the journey”. In which case immediately calmed me down and I started realizing it wasn’t just his choice me moving or me wanting to move out of my current sticky living situation: it was our choice. OURS.

So as I sit here packing boxes and loading my car up once again to move I take small breathes and remind myself it will be okay. It’s the closing of one chapter and the beginning of a new one. Who knows if we will make it, or the fact I know I’ll drive him crazy by the first full week I’m there.

What I do know is this…I couldn’t be more happy excited scared nervous anticipated or sad. But I know we are in this together and we will make it. Cheesy but the truth.

I know when I have a bad day and come home and yell at him it will be OK because he will smile and just hug me. I know when Saturday mornings roll around there’s no place I’d rather be than with him snoring away beside me.

Here’s to new beginnings and new adventures…if we don’t drive each other crazy first haha!