Chose Your Memories Wisely

My dad has always said I have a way with words, but I have a theory: if what I write or say has an effect on just one person then it’s done it’s job. So, I just write from the heart.

I have always been a passionate, emotional person. That’s just how God made me. If you’ve kept up with my blogs over the years you’ve heard stories of trials and heartbreak but also triumphs and love.

It’s funny how a year ago I felt lost trying to find my place, my person, trying to understand God’s plan through my own confusion and heartbreak with all that had happened since I graduated with my undergrad. Yet, here today I am amongst the happiest I’ve been, biting my nails as I await for the man I love to propose as he so enjoys teasing me about and making me wait for (as I am a very impatient person and it really is no secret that it’s coming).

As these happy moments occur there are also sad ones. Times where all I want to do is call and brag to her about who he is and how happy he makes me, and I’m reminded that I can’t do that and she will never get to meet this person whom she watched me wait for, for so many years. Though maybe in her own way she already has. At the life celebration party post funeral, I remember Lindsey (cousin) saying, “I’m sure she is up there in heaven cooking something up with God right now.”

Aunt JoAnn was my girl talk person, my second mom. She was older and wiser than my girlfriends and was just enough of a mom but wasn’t MY mom that I felt comfortable talking to her about most everything. My mom knew that if she couldn’t get through to me at times she’d tell me to call JoAnn hoping between the two of them they could get through to my stubborn rear. Most of our conversations centered around God and relationships. It’s been around two years since we found out she had cancer and approximately 15 months since we lost her. The pain fades but it’s still there. Really, it doesn’t go away you just live with it and then something triggers the remembrance. Something good happens and that person is who you want to tell. You don’t know what to do, you need advice so you reach for the phone, only to remember they’re not there.

Today’s trigger: a movie about cancer. I didn’t realize it was going to be a movie about cancer when I hit play. As odd as it sounds I do enjoy those movies because there is always a good life lesson you’re reminded of at the end. Sometimes it’s hard to explain to Lane why I am crying, he never got to meet JoAnn and though he’s heard stories he wasn’t there for everything our family went through. He has had his own trials with family cancer, but the battle and story is a little different for everyone. As I’m watching the movie I silently begin crying at different parts. One part because I’m reminded how my family pulled together during JoAnn’s battle, having holidays at the hospital with her. Another because I’m reminded of how many friends we had help us out both in New Mexico at school with me and in Oklahoma with my family, and the last because when that family lost the girl on the show, I knew exactly what they were going through. I will forever remember that day, the day we laid her to rest. I sat between the two strongest men I’ve ever known, one who just lost his daughter and the other his sister. My papaw held my hand through the entire funeral, I didn’t see him shed a tear. Matter of fact I never have. He is the patriarch of the family. He thought he had to be strong, but midst that tough exterior is a man who held his granddaughter’s hand as he did something a parent is never supposed to do, bury a child. Yet, when Lane asks me why I watch movies that make me cry I just shrug and say, “I don’t know.” When really I hadn’t been able to put into words what it was until tonight: memories. Those shows remind me of my family’s story and the memories that I took away from that experience are loving and triumphant.

Yes, my cousins lost their mother, my grandparents lost their daughter, my dad lost his sister, and I lost my aunt but I am reminded of the strength in family, specifically my own, and that is something that, though I may cry midst remembrance, I will never mind remembering.

Losing someone is always sad, even more so when they still had so much life to live, but you get to chose what memories you hold on to the tightest. Make sure those memories are the ones filled with hope, laughter, but most importantly love.

Maybe she did have a hand in bringing Lane and I together, or maybe she just sat over there and happily watched God as he did what she always promised me he would.

God is good all the time, all the time God is good.



Joyful Suffering

April 20, 2017

My alarm went off at 3:00 this morning. I brushed my teeth and my hair. I threw some make-up on, finished packing my bag, and walked out the door where my friend was waiting to take me to the airport. Yesterday I got the call I had been dreading. My dad told me there weren’t many days left. I got the quickest flight home. My parents picked me up at about 8:30 Oklahoma time, next stop: the hospital.

Today was a rough one. Today I saw my aunt, my second mother, in so much pain she was incoherent. The cancer was literally eating her bones. Her lungs were full of fluid. She could hardly breath. I watched her grasp for air, hold her cancer ridden rib cage, and heard her moans of pain. I watched a woman, who I had leaned on for strength more times than I could count, strain to recognize me as I attempted to convince her to drink some water with childish choo-choo noises (she was coherent enough I got a version of an eye roll for that).

Today was a rough one. Today half my heart was shipped overseas to serve our country. Today I cried tears as I saw pictures of him boarding the plane for what would be his “home” for the next 9 months, pictures of the rifle he’d be carrying, pictures of the boy who had to become a man. I watched the man I have loved, fought, and relentlessly prayed for leave me with a phrase I will cling too in the few messages I got the night before he left: “You’re strong hun, you can handle anything thrown at you”. That phrase and a hoodie was all I was left with. He left behind a single, broken-hearted girl who was forced to become a strong woman.

I’ve shed more tears in the last few days then I care to admit. I have found myself praying in any quite moment I might have. I cling to my phone waiting for the next aunt or deployment update. I have found my stomach churning as I see a Snapchat story instead of receiving the text from him that I desire on his whereabouts and his safety. I have been a hot mess express. The anxiety is high right now. I wonder when I got old enough to handle all of this as I help my mother take care of business for the upcoming experiences my poor cousins are going to have to face. I didn’t really have a choice, I was called to grow up and be mature for my loved ones.

May 16, 2017

I got to Oklahoma at 4:30 this morning. I was up by 8. I had errands to run before I met the family for lunch. I put my dress on, fixed my hair and make-up and met my parents down stairs to head to the funeral home. I didn’t get to make it for family night so my dad took me to see her before we ate lunch. Cancer had eaten away the beautiful woman I once knew but she looked good. My brother kept his sun glasses on. I cried, but I held back so many tears too. I had to be strong. I was about to see my cousins and they had just lost their mom. I was about to see my grandparents and they had just lost their daughter. They all knew how close JoAnn and I were but still I felt the need to be strong for them. I walk in and my papaw hugs me and kisses my forehead. That was something I hadn’t experienced before but I knew he was struggling to express himself. He wouldn’t shed a tear the whole day.

From the moment I walked into the funeral home and saw how many people were there the tears began to flow. I sat between my dad and papaw. My dad hugged me the whole time. I can still count how many times I have seen him cry on one hand, but that day was different. He lost his little sister. I grabbed and held my papaws hand through the whole funeral. It was happy, it was sad, and they played the rock music just like she wanted. It captured her beautifully. My dad walked me up to the casket to see her before we left. I just started bawling and hugging him. When we hit the people outside the emotions just kept coming. I couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. I was told I had to breathe or I would hyperventilate many times.

May 31, 2017

Its been two weeks since the funeral and I still feel the urge to pick up the phone and call her. I put off writing this because I just didn’t know what to say. Aunt JoAnn is in a better place. She asked my dad to take care of her kids so that means I gained a brother and sister. We were really more like siblings anyways. I’ve seen my family take care of each other in the most inspiring way. Although we grew closer as a family it still doesn’t take the pain away.

I beg God to enlighten me on what his plan for my life is. I have experienced so much loss this year that the weight upon my shoulders is making me question if I am strong enough to handle all of it. How could God put the two things that I have been dreading the most on the same day? How could he put my brothers wedding and my aunts funeral in the same week? God what are you doing?!

Here I am reminded of Hannah. Hannah was verbally taunted by her sister wife because she could have children but Hannah could not. Her husband, Elkana, favored Hannah regardless. Hannah went to the temple weeping and begging for God to give her a child. Eli, the priest, saw her and in her distraught state thought she was a drunkard. Eli tried to get rid of her but then quickly realized the situation. He then proceeded to bless Hannah; he said:
“Go in peace. And may the God of Israel give you what you have asked of him.” 1 Samuel 1:17

Then came the waiting period. 1 Samuel 1:20 says that before the year was out she conceived. As I’ve read this passage before I have always been like “wow how miraculous it only took a year!” As I read that now and go through my current life situations I am like, “holy cow, how did Hannah do it?” I have almost no patience. I have been in my current struggle for months and still I feel distraught, I am still wondering when this wave of bad happenings is going to end. Like most people in my generation I want what I want when I want it. I am so used to having almost everything I need at my fingertips. Have a question: Google it. Want to talk to my family from 12hrs away: pick up the phone. Typically these things are simple. So, when it comes to God answering my prayers I think that it should happen right now too. I know just like Hannah the things that He has promised me. I know this without a shadow of a doubt! I understand I am being bold but I just know! Yet, I have not mastered the art of joyful suffering (James 1:2-4). Crying is my new norm.

Here I desire to be more like Hannah. I want to joyfully suffer because that is what God is asking of me. I want to lay my worries down at his feet and leave them. Why should I worry if I know what God has promised? He promised He would always protect me and I could take refuge when I need strength. He told me that when I couldn’t be strong that He would be strong for me. He knew this time was coming. He knew I’d be tested to the point that I was unsure if I was strong enough. He knew that I would need the confirmation that I was strong enough from the person that means the most to me. He was answering my prayers, just not how I thought He would. My goal: although I may be facing some of the most difficult life situations in my young life, I will suffer with joy that only comes from my Heavenly Father.

“My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience. But let patience have its perfect work, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking nothing.” James 1:2-4