What Grief is Like

Last night, I had a revelation while chatting with Bryan about grief. This is how I explained what I'm feeling to him.

Imagine you have a box. In this box are several puzzles that contain each part of your life. Your personality. Your memories. Your hopes. Your dreams. Your secrets. Your fears. Anything and everything that makes up who you are.

Now imagine that someone grabs that box and turns it upside down and dumps all of the contents on the floor. Perhaps they even scatter the pieces around. Then they turn to you and say, "Clean this mess up." 

Imagine the devastation and anger and confusion that hits you while you're staring at this mess of puzzle pieces now all mixed together. And they aren't the children's sized puzzles. They're the 5000 piece puzzles. And it's not just one puzzle per life section either. The memories section alone could contain hundreds of different puzzles. Maybe even thousands. And now all of these pieces are on the floor. Mixed together. And you and you alone have to clean it up and reorganize everything.

It's not an easy task. It's frustrating sometimes. And you get mad. And you want to throw the whole thing in the trash. And you cry. And you feel hopeless. And you SWEAR there are pieces missing. Someone must have stolen them because you cannot find that certain piece anywhere. That's because honestly, some pieces are missing now. Or they've been replaced with other pieces. Your "loved" piece now reads "lonely." Your status piece reads something completely different from what it read yesterday. And you have all these new pieces you've never seen before. Pieces from someone else's puzzle. Gardner, cook, breadwinner, mechanic. Where do these pieces fit in? How are you ever going to incorporate all these new pieces into your life? And don't even ask about your relationship puzzle. All those pieces might as well be marked with question marks. Some days you get on a roll and pieces fly back together as if by magic and you think maybe you'll get through this after all. But then you realize you've put together 20 pieces today. Only 20 out of the millions that you still have to sift through. And the whole emotional roller-coaster starts over. 

Some people don't understand that it's time consuming and exhausting. They try to rush you. They try to make you feel like you should already be finished. Their pieces are all still neatly sorted in the boxes they carry. Why can't you just scoop your pieces into the box and keep going? Life goes on. Get over it. But they don't understand what it feels like. They don't understand that you're lashing out because somehow some of your fear pieces got mixed into your dreams puzzle. They don't understand that your personality puzzle adopted some pieces from your memories puzzle. They don't understand that you don't want anyone to see your secrets puzzle. Or your flaws puzzle. Or your self-conscious and insecure puzzle. Those puzzle are personal. So you struggle to keep them separate from everything else. But pieces are weaving their way into your everyday life puzzle, and suddenly you can't make decisions because your security piece is missing and you haven't been able to locate it in the piles and piles and piles of pieces of your life you are forced to sift through. So you're just smashing your nonchalant piece into that hole for now. "Whatever you want. I don't care. Just make a decision." But you do care! You care desperately. But your insecure puzzle has leaked all its stupid questioning and worrying pieces into your hopes puzzle and now you're terrified you'll make the wrong decision. 

Nothing is sure. Nothing is certain. You feel out of sorts because you are! Everything you have ever known and understood has suddenly been thrust into chaos. You're just trying to scrounge enough pieces together to function and you tell yourself you'll somehow manage to get the rest organized in what little spare time you have between work and family and life. Life that keeps chugging onward no matter what. Life that is so vastly overwhelming right now. 

The saying is true: grieving people are literally "just trying to pick up the pieces and move on."  Believe me, it's no small task. 

On Pause

There are things that need to be said. Words that need to be written. Emotions that need to be shared. But it cannot be done now. The time is not right. The wounds too fresh. The hurt still too real. Someday I will return to this blog and say what needs to be said. Reminisce and open up and share. But not today. Probably not tomorrow. Or next week or even next month. Maybe not even this year. But someday...someday my mind will free and I'll be able to release the words again.

Two Become One

This morning around 6:24, I was awake. My body does that sometimes. Especially when the night before I realize that I'm on the other side of 25 - almost 27, which probably explains the graying hair, the need for nail strengthening vitamins and the necessity of putting lotion on my feet every night just like my mother because years of barefootedness have finally caught up to me. But that is another blog for another time.

Anyway, this morning my eyes pop open and I can't seem to find my way back to sleep. Probably because I realized that on Eowyn's Life Plan, I should have just welcomed my third child and be well on my way to completing our family with a fourth in a few very short years. But once again, for another time. So usually when I can't sleep in the middle of the night, I just cuddle Bryan. I snuggle up against him and strive to match my breathing to his. I don't know if it's the slow rhythmic breathing or the intoxicating smell of my husband, but it works every time. I'm out within minutes. So this morning, I just reach a hand over to my softly sleeping husband so I can take comfort in him. (Sidenote: he always sleeps so softly. Honestly, sometimes I check to make sure he's still breathing because he's so quiet.) Then it dawns on me. This is what God intended when He said the two will become one flesh.

He intended for man and wife to be so connected that they even breathe together. (Not all the time obviously - I'm speaking metaphorically here people!) One in mind, body and soul. That's what I have with Bryan. I have absolutely no doubt that he was created with me in mind. He's absolutely perfect for me. From the way my head fits on his shoulder and the way my body fits perfectly in the crook of his arm to his mannerisms and personality. If you've ever read Hunger Games (and if you haven't you TOTALLY should), you know the relationship between Peeta and Katniss. One of my favorite parts in the whole series, is when Katniss compares herself to fire and Peeta to a dandelion. That's describes Bryan and I perfectly. I'm passionate and wild, and he is so soothing and calm. He soothes me when I'm trying to blaze out of control. I create just enough spark in him. We're balanced. 

He is literally my other half. He completes me. (Not more than Jesus, but you get what I'm saying.) When he is gone from me, I feel lost. I can't imagine never having him. He is part of me now. We are one. A unit. Connected. Forever. His heart is so intertwined with mine that if it ever leaves, it will surely ruin me.(Newlyweds...I know) This was God's intention for a husband and wife. For our hearts to be intertwined with each other, that we cannot be separated. Total and complete oneness.

Sometimes I say really weird things when I'm hugging Bryan like: "I love you so much I just want to get in you." which I admit is kind of creepy. But I mean it in a "I love you so much that I was to be as close as absolutely possible to you, even becoming one with you" way, not a Luke Skywalker inside a Tonton way - although when it's super cold I'll admit that sometimes I joke about it. Haha I'm kidding. Sort of. Back to the point. I want to be one with Bryan. I want to have the same goals and dreams as him. I want us to move and act and even breathe as one. Like I love doing things that I like and watching him do things that he likes, but I want us to be united overall. Two people that are one. If you're married, I'm sure you get what I'm trying to say. If not, well...reread this when you're married and you'll probably understand better. It's difficult to explain. 

Needless to say, I did not go back to sleep this morning. The writer's brain in me overtook everything else. All I managed was waking Bryan up before his alarm went off and this blog. Hopefully, one of them is worth it. 

The Tragedy of Robin Williams

At the risk of making the story sadder than it already is, here are my thoughts reading the recent passing of the legend that was Robin Williams.

I was floored when I saw the posts on Facebook. I honestly thought it was a hoax. But it wasn't. I am devastated, but not because another Hollywood star has burned out. But because of how he burned out. The man was comedy gold for years! He was comedian. And he took his own life because of depression (I'm assuming this is the case, even though his publicist won't admit it). We all spent years laughing at his antics. My friends and I still laugh when we quote lines from Mrs. Doubtfire. Yet, he felt so alone and lost that he took his own life.

I can't help but identify with him. During high school, I spent a lot of time laughing and making others laugh, while I was hurting on the inside. The moment the lights were off and I was alone, the tears would come out. But no one knew I was in pain. How could I be? I always seemed so happy. I was always joking around and laughing. It was a very good mask. One that Robin seemed to be wearing as well. 

I can't help but think about the sermon Andrew Youngblood preached on Sunday. To Seek and to Save the Lost. Robin was lost. He was right in front of us all the time, and yet he was lost. Somewhere along the way, things stopped being funny for him. He lost his way and got on a path that lead to his destruction. Why didn't someone invite themselves into his life? Why didn't anyone do something? Surely, someone must have noticed that something was amiss somewhere! Right??? Why didn't anyone do anything? Why did Robin feel like there was no hope? Nowhere to turn. Nothing to live for. Why? Why? Why?

The question beats in my head and my heart. Someone tweeted this about him: Genie, you're free. It's heart-wrenching. One of his most beloved characters is such a clear depiction of what his life must have become. Feeling trapped and chained by circumstances beyond his control. No place to breath, no one to share in his misery. And yes, he's free from all that now. But what unspeakable horrors will he be forced to face in the afterlife? What brief temporary relief did he receive in his last moments? Before he met the Creator. My heart is broken just thinking about it. The tragedy is that he made an eternal decision out of desperation for something more. 

I understand that Robin was a movie star and perhaps out of our reach. But what about the people around you? What about your co-workers? The single moms in your play group? Your neighbors? Your friends? The good church kids who are bleeding on the inside and laughing on the outside? Jesus came to seek and to save the lost. When He left this earth, He passed that task on to us. We've got to better people, myself included. Let's take the tragedy of Robin Williams and turn it into a lesson for all of us. Laughter is a good mask. It covers a lot of things. Let's not be so blind to let someone we love slip away again. Let's not forget our mission on this earth - to seek and to save the lost....whoever they may be and however they found themselves lost.

"Thinspiration" From a "Fat" Girl's Perspective

So I just heard this new song "All About that Bass" by Meghan Trainor. If you haven't heard it yet, you can listen to it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7PCkvCPvDXk . If you don't want to listen, I'll sum it up for you. Basically the girl is proud of her curves and booty. Her mama told her not to worry about her size because "boys like a little more booty to hold at night." I'm really digging this song and here's why: a) It's super catchy and b) The music video is super cute.

Bet that's not what you expected. I bet you expected me to say I liked it because FINALLY curvy girls are getting some props for being beautiful. Don't get me wrong. I'm happy that it's finally okay to have curves. But at the same time, this song saddens me because it seems to discriminate against women who don't have curves. Like why can't we all just be beautiful? Why do I get to be more beautiful because I have curves or less beautiful for the same reason? It's really rather ridiculous when you think about it.

I have several friends who are super skinny. I also have several friends who are in the middle. And I have several friends who are on the bigger side. They are all beautiful in their own ways. And the funny thing is - no matter what size you are or how good you think you look, the grass always seems greener on the other side. My skinny friends are jealous of my cleavage. I'm jealous of the fact that they can go without a bra. Seriously...they get to wear strapless dresses without suffering the horrors of trying to keep a strapless bra up. But they wish they had the cleavage popping out the top of that same strapless dress that I have. My cousin and I joke all the time about halfing my boobs with her so we could both have the "perfect" amount. (Sorry if that's TMI.)

And it doesn't just go for sizing. It goes for everything!!! We wish we had that girl's eyes, another girl's booty, another girl's legs, her lips, her nose, her hair. Prime example: my friend Brittany recently had several brain surgeries and a stroke, so her head had to be shaved. But she is TOTALLY rockin' the red pixie cut. Man I wish I could pull that off. But the irony of the fact is that she wishes she had my long ponytail. Every woman does it. 

Why can't we just be happy with what we have? I'm not saying don't appreciate the beauty of others, but don't depreciate yourself in the process. I've been doing Blogilates with Cassey Ho this year. If you haven't heard of her, go to blogilates.com and check it out. Seriously, she'll change your life. Like for real. You know why? Because she constantly reaffirms that every woman is beautiful just the way she is, but it's okay to want to change yourself for the better. It's okay to be chesty or have no chest or have a thigh gap or constantly wear tights because your thighs literally love each other so much that they try to smother each other if you don't separate them. It's okay to have some excess tummy fat that you want to lose. It's okay to want to bulk up your arms or lose that jiggle. Everything is okay because ALL WOMEN ARE BEAUTIFUL IN THEIR OWN WAY!!!  Marilyn Monroe was curvy. Audrey Hepburn was skinny. I adore both of them for their uniqueness and for their just overall awesomeness!!! They are a perfect example of the simple fact that beautiful women come in all shapes and sizes. 

So while I like the song, it's frustrating at the same time. I don't want to be fat-shamed anymore than skinny girls was to be thin-shamed. Is that even a thing? I think it is. "Men love women with curves." "No one wants to cuddle a stick." It's just all so.....unnecessary. And this is coming from a girl who spent most of her life being "fat." It's not fun to be judged based on size. Let's not do it to girls who are thin, just because curves are being recognized as beautiful again. That's counterproductive. Thin girls struggle just as much as big girls. My cousin tries to gain weight all the time so she's not "too skinny" but she has this thing called a metabolism that prevents that. I try to lose weight so I'm not so "chunky" but I have this thing called a sweet tooth. I'm a baker people. And I'm proud of it. I love ice cream and cake!!! (I also like that Bryan now works for a big company so I can pass off all my treats on them. But that's another story for another time. Lol) There's nothing wrong with that. That's the way God made us. My cousin and I are from the same beginning set of genes and we couldn't be more different in size. Does that mean she's better than me or I'm better than her? No!!! She's Audrey and I'm Marilyn. And we're both pretty legit.

Let's all just rebel against the whole thing!!! Thigh gaps. Fat-shaming. Thin-shaming. The whole ridiculous nonsense. Can we do that? Can all women just agree to stop talking about this whole size issue? Then maybe it'll finally die and we can focus on more important things like family and community.

You're beautiful!!! I'm beautiful!!! We're all beautiful!!! So while I'll definitely be jamming to this song, it won't be because I think curvy girls are better than skinny girls. It'll literally be because it is just SO DARN catchy! And it makes me wanna shake my big ole booty. Haha :) 

Thank God for Weddings.

I'm sure all of you have read about my friend Brittany's brain aneurysm last weekend. She's in surgery as I write this. 2 hours into what could be a 5 hour process at the least. It's so strange that all of this happened. It was out of nowhere. I had just talked to her on Friday afternoon. She sent me a picture of her in her bridesmaid dress and she was so excited about everything that was happening and her involvement in such a new adventure for me. Needless to say, I've been pretty reflective of our friendship these last couple days. And all I can say is: thank God for weddings! Not even just because it's my own and I've found my happily ever after, but because it gave me the opportunity to reconnect with one of my best friends. Up until this point, our lives had taken a bit of a different path. She got married and started a family. I finished college and went to work. But now our life paths are starting to cross again and I'm so excited. So please...allow me to express for a few minutes. Express the beauty of an unlikely friendship...

We met my second year of Master's Commission. I had seen Brittany around a few times before this, Fine Arts and events with Dallas Master's. We were told that we wouldn't like each other, that we would never be friends. Funny how wrong people were. We quickly became best buds, almost inseparable. If she wasn't staying the night on my trundle bed, I was making a pallet on her floor. We had so many good times together. We would drive to Killeen, about a 30 minute drive, often just to eat at Rosa's. She had never had it before and I introduced her. She loved it. We would sing Christmas carols at the top of our lungs through the halls of the church. All year, for no reason other than we enjoyed it. She was my partner in mischief. Brittany taught me how to get out of work by simply carrying around a tool and looking busy. She introduced me to High School Musical and Hairspray and Hannah Montana. I'd like to say that I contributed more to our friendship during that time, but it was more like she took me under her wing of protection and laughter. Brittany always makes me laugh. She is so supportive. She made me read her the entire book I wrote in one night while she cleaned her room and threw hangers at me when parts didn't go like she wanted. 

Then Master's ended and we went home. She met Jason and I was overjoyed to be in her wedding. She slept next to me in my hotel bed her last night as a single woman. Then she got pregnant with Jacob and I helped decorate baseball cupcakes for his shower. She's a great mommy and wife! Almost like she was made for it. Then our lives drifted for a bit. But then I got engaged and she is so happy for me! She can't wait to be a bridesmaid.It's given us an excuse to hang out again and talk on the phone more. She came to my bachelorette weekend in Houston and got to meet all of my other best friends. And I got to be surrounded by 5 of the most amazing women on the planet!!! All together to celebrate a new chapter in my life. We had so much fun together! Singing in the car, taking magazine quizzes to find out how self-absorbed we were, dancing and laughing. I'm looking forward to many more girls weekends. Brittany is excited about the lingerie shower the girls are planning for me. We just had a meeting about it last week and her ideas were flowing like always. She has such a knack for those types of things. 

Now I find myself pleading with God to just touch her body. To restore her to full health. To work a miracle on her behalf. Not just for her family, but for me. I wouldn't have made it through that second year of Master's without her. I'm sorry I didn't realize or acknowledge it sooner. She's an amazingly funny and kind person, though she'll do her best to convince you that she's mean. I'm looking forward to swapping stories about underwear on the floor and dirty dishes piling up, about babies that won't sleep. I'm looking forward to hearing about Jacob's adventures on the baseball field. She's going to be a proud mama and I can't wait to celebrate with her and experience more life with her! 

Sunday morning we sang Revelation Song which happens to be the song Brittany did a group human video to the first time I ever saw her. I remember being amazed at her skills. As I sang the wordss, eyes closed, tears streaming down my face, I was instantly transported to the front row of Bethel A/G with Brittany next to me singing her heart out as well. She has a beautiful voice. I can't wait to hear it again - joking, singing, giving advice.

God, bring healing to Brittany's body. Complete restoration and no side effects! She has more to do on this earth! By your stripes we are healed and I claim that for Brittany right now! We rebuke Satan's attacks and claim your will for her life! Work a miracle on her behalf! In Jesus name! 

Thoughts on Cooking

I have been thinking recently about my new family, as one tends to do in the days leading to their wedding. Not only am I gaining a husband but I'm gaining a whole new family as well. A new mother, a new father, a new brother, new grandparents. It's been an interesting endeavor simply because these new family members are different from the family members I've always known.

My soon-to-be mother-in-law is very different from me. Especially in the kitchen. She doesn't bake. She's a healthy person. Her freezer is stocked with vegetables and her counters sport fruit bowls. My cabinets are filled with flour and sugar and chocolate chips. My refrigerator is stocked with butter, all flavors and sizes. So that has gotten me thinking...how do we develop our culinary style?

I think my baking addition is inherited, pasted down in my genes starting with my Sweetheart all the way down through my mother. I come from a long line of bakers. But that can't be the only factor because my mother-in-law's mother loves to bake. So what else influences it? I suppose celebrity chefs do. I have a friend who recently posted a photo of a dinner she prepared with the statement "look at me being like Julia Child. Bon appetit!" There's a whole movie dedicated to Julia Child that I love!!! But I don't own a Julia Child cookbook. I own a Betty Crocker cookbook. I have a pinterest board entitled Just Like Betty Crocker for my cooking tips. I love Paula Deen! Her current (ridiculous) struggle does nothing to affect the deliciousness of her butter-filled dishes or the warmth of her love-made recipes. But what leads us to a certain chef? 

How do we develop the love for the crispness of a perfectly cooked asparagus over the creaminess of a fresh cheesecake? The sweetness of an apple versus the richness of chocolate lava cake? I think a study needs to be done on this subject, because I simply cannot comprehend the lack of desire to pull a tray of fresh baked cookies out of the oven on a cool fall evening. But perhaps, this new woman in my life can introduce me to a whole new side of culinary love. And maybe, just maybe, I can show her the comfort of a good slice of pie a la mode.