While we were vacationing in Hawaii last week, we received heartbreaking news about our sweet neighbor. She lost her son to suicide. While we were vacationing and playing on the beach, a friend was unexpectedly losing her son. It broke my heart for her and for her son that he had hit the point of extreme darkness and felt like he had no way out.
It has been a while since I shared an embarrassing confessional about me. But, today is the day. 🙌🏼🙌🏼🙌🏼 You know when you are on Facebook and those stupid personality tests pop up? Well I couldn’t help myself the other day when a link popped up in my feed for a “My Personality Test” and I clicked on it. I was fairly certain it was going to be ridiculously wrong. Read More
You know how they say grief is like the ocean? I have hit that point in the waves where I want to run away with my family. I literally day dream about selling all of our valuables and our home and moving to a remote tropical island and living off the land with Steve and my kids. A place where shoes and brushing your hair is completely optional. To get away from the heaviness of the world. Don’t panic, I won’t, because the logical side of me is still very much intact. But, part of me wishes I were that brave because my family feels closest to Hayes near the ocean. It feels like home. Read More
It was the fall of 2001. We had graduated, gone on our senior trips and were both now living in Logan, Utah. A small town an hour and a half north of our hometowns. We both decided to live in the dorms. Steve was living with two of his buddies from high school and I was living with 5 random girls that I had never met before. We lived a short walk away from each other and needless to say, we were making that short walk multiple times a day! Read More
I remember as a child sitting next to my dad on the couch and watching the Miss America pageant. I was fascinated. The women were beautiful, dressed in sparkly gowns, they were incredibly talented and on top of all of that, they were smart. I am sure he could see the amazement in my eyes and my dad asked me if I wanted to be Miss America. I responded with a shrug and my dad answered the shrug by looking me in the eyes and telling me I could be Miss America if I wanted. He followed it up with, “You can be the president if the United States if you want. There is nothing you can’t do.” He believed it…I had no doubt he believed it, but what I didn’t say out loud was that I doubted both…I wasn’t smart enough, I wasn’t pretty enough and I definitely wasn’t talented enough. I was probably 6 years old and I didn’t feel enough.
It was the fall of my 5th grade year. I went to a private school in an old red brick building surrounded by large leafy oak trees. It was old and beautiful. Every day I had to wear the same typical uniform, red and navy plaid skirt, white button up shirt, blue cardigan, a little blue neck tie and knee high socks. It was classic.
My class was divided into groups of learning abilities. They didn’t tell us this, but it was very clear to me that I was in the upper learning group. I was very awkwardly smart. My strength was math and numbers. I can say that now because my mom brain has completely wiped out every ability my mind once had. In fact, I can’t believe that was me. If you were to ask me a basic math question now, my brain would hurt…but, I digress.