Remembering (…or not)

I sort of have a bad long-term memory. Like, if I haven’t used the information in the last few years, I’ve probably forgotten it. Since I don’t really spend a lot of time thinking about my childhood, it has all become a blur with arbitrary moments of clarity. Here and there, I’ll remember little details and facts about my past (like the little games my dad used to play with us, or baking cookies with my mom) but I never have many actual stories to tell. Whenever people ask questions like, “what is your favorite childhood memory,” or “what were you like as a kid,” I get really frustrated and kind of sad – I usually have to rely on things that my dad has told me or pictures I’ve seen or little fragments of memory that may not be wholly true.
As I am growing up, this is beginning to scare me a bit. It makes me feel like I’ve lost something huge. Something important. I know that things happened in the past and they have contributed to who I am today, I just can’t really remember what they were. But there are things that seem really valuable, really essential, like memories of my mother or things that I learned in school – as these things slip further and further into the past, they become things that are still sort of a part of me, but I don’t actually have them anymore. Not really. I feel like humans are in the business of making memories, but what happens when those memories just disappear? Some say that you only remember the important things or the things you want to remember, but I’m really beginning to disagree with that (For instance: I want to remember everything about my mother, but I still forget).

Anyway, this is becoming more…serious (for lack of a better word) than I meant for it to be, so I think I’ll stop there …I never quite know what I’m really thinking and/or feeling about something until I write it out

…And maybe this isn’t even a big deal. Maybe this is all just part of growing up. Maybe this is normal.

Questions of Identity

Recently, I was working on a trial-run-basis for a small business as a receptionist. I worked for them for about a week and a half (I didn’t end up getting hired, but I’m not going to go into that because that is not what this post is about). While I worked there, I worked full-time almost every day of the week. Since I was spending so much of my time working there and it was so different from how I had previously been spending my time, I noticed that I started to feel…different. And not in the way that I would have expected. I started to see myself differently – not better, not worse, just different. I felt like I was a different person, but only just. Like my identity was somehow shifted because I spent a good amount of my time being a receptionist rather than, say, a writer, or a cook, etc. And I started to feel a bit strange. I started asking questions of myself that I didn’t really have time to answer, nor even really think about. The main question was this: Am I really defined by what I do? By how I spend my time? If I am spending my time doing something different, does my identity change? (okay I guess that is more than one question…but hey, teachers do that all the time…).
After I found out that I didn’t have the job, I started to think seriously about what I really want to do with my time. Should I really push to do something that I have a passion for, or should I simply find something that I am qualified to do that helps me pay the bills? Should I save my passions for the things that I do outside of the workforce? I don’t really think there is an easy answer for those questions.
Is my identity defined by what I do or by how I do them? Or, perhaps I should ask: How is identity defined? What is my identity, really? As a Christian, there are some easy answers: I am a created being made in the image of the Creator; I am a child of God, chosen and saved by grace; I am a part of the church, the bride of Christ; and so on and so forth. Then there are the relational answers: I am a daughter, a sister, a granddaughter, a niece, a cousin, a friend, an acquaintance, a stranger, a subordinate. Or the general: I am a human, a female, a 22-year-old, an American of European decent, a college graduate, an introvert, a redhead. But we know that there is more to a person than these things. God is complex and creative and  He made us complex and distinctive. So what else is it that defines us? How do we really say who a person is? And, moreover, does it really matter? It feels like it matters, but that doesn’t mean that it does.

…I realize that this post is very unsatisfying and is basically one gigantic question-mark… but that’s the way it goes sometimes. I’d love to hear your thoughts, so feel free to post a comment or communicate with me by any other means. I am especially interested in any scripture references that might speak to this topic.

Quick Snapshots: Serving With Joni and Friends

Last month (April 1-6), I had the privilege to serve as a Short Term Missionary (hereafter referred to as STM) at the Joni and Friends Family Retreat at Wonder Valley. Honestly, when I first agreed that I would do this, I wasn’t really giving it much thought…I just knew that I had the time, would probably be able to raise the funds, and could be of service to someone who needed it. I had heard about this camp before, having written about it for my church newsletter a while back, and I was interested in the things that they were doing there. So, I went into it thinking, “this could be a neat experience.” Let me tell you now, “neat” was a gross underestimation.

[I've broken this up into parts because that's kind of how my brain works...]

Part 1: Leading up to camp

Wonder Valley

Let me start off by telling you a bit more about this camp, in case you are not familiar with it. Joni and Friends Family Retreats are week-long (roughly) camps for families who are affected by disability (whether it be physical, developmental, etc). Typically, it is one or more of the children in the family who have a disability, but the rest of the family is affected by this as well. Caring for these children is not an easy task and these families are on the job every single day. These retreats give these families the opportunity to have a vacation. Not only do they get time together as a family doing fun things that may or may not usually be accessible to them, but they also get some time to be around their own age groups, kids playing with other kids and adults spending time with other adults, and generally getting to be around people who can relate to them. One of the major ways that these retreats make all of these things possible is by assigning trained volunteers (STMs) to each family for the purpose of serving and aiding them throughout the week.

As the week of camp drew nearer and nearer, I started to think about what serving as an STM would require of me. I became a bit worried as I started to realize just how self-centered I am and how much I am used to taking care of my own wants and needs before considering others. This is a troubling thing to begin with, but it was even more disturbing to me as I knew that I was entering into a situation in which I would need a selfless, servant-hearted attitude in order to accomplish what I had signed up for. I did not want to be a poor representation of Christ to whomever I was assigned. I wanted to please the Lord by reflecting His character, and I knew that I would not be able to do so by my own strength and “will power.” Humility and servant-heartedness are things that do not come naturally to sinful mankind, but are only accomplished by the grace of God. And so, I prayed for God to change me, even if it were just for that week, into one who regards others as more important than myself (Phil. 2:3).

Part 2: Training and Preparations

The group of STMs from my church. We bonded together as we served over the week.

Arriving at camp, the STM’s had about a day and a half of training to get through before the families arrived. We bonded together, learning about various disabilities and how to deal with different things that we might encounter and so on and so forth. Something that really meant a lot to me and remained with me throughout the week, and indeed, after that week, was that in order to serve in such a way that would display the love of Christ, we must constantly come to Him in prayer and depend completely on the grace of God.

All throughout the first day (the day before the families arrived), I was nervous, not knowing which family I would be assigned to. I kept thinking that once I knew who my camper was and what disability my camper had, then I would know, more or less, what I was going to be dealing with and could start preparing my mind and praying more specifically about my assigned family. That night, when we got our assignments, I learned that I would be caring for a 4 year-old boy who had autism. My first thought was, “now I still don’t know what I’m dealing with.” As you may or may not know, autism sort of ranges from mild to severe and the affects of it vary from person to person. So, all I could really count on was that I would have to adapt and learn as I went. And so, I began praying even harder for the week to go smoothly and for my assigned family to be able to relax, enjoy themselves, and really experience the love of Christ. It was nice to finally be able to pray for them by name.

Part 3: Meeting my Camper/family and getting started

Left to Right: Fellow STM Rebekah, my camper Nathan, parents Edie and Bun, Rebekah’s camper Gabriel, and me.

As the time (the second day) for me to actually meet my assigned camper and family drew nearer, I became more and more nervous. Thankfully, I had many brothers and sisters in Christ around me who could encourage and pray for me. When I finally laid eyes on my precious little camper and his equally-as-precious twin brother, my excitement and joy won-out and my nervousness was no where to be seen. To my delight, the mother and father of my camper turned out to be very kind and loving people and I felt a connection with the whole family almost instantly. I quickly learned about my camper and his twin brother (who also has autism – he was assigned another STM and we worked together a lot of the time), their little quirks, cleverness, character, and the differences between them. By the end of that first day of serving my camper and his family, there was already so much love in my heart for them; all I wanted to do was spend time with them and help them with whatever they needed or wanted. I couldn’t keep from smiling as I realized that there was literally no place in the world that I would rather have been at that moment, than right where the Lord had placed me. The Lord had, indeed, already answered my prayer.

Part 4: The rest of the week/concluding thoughts

My camper, Nathan (right), and his brother, Gabriel (left), loved the wagon

All throughout the week, my days were very busy, and I noticed that I had a lot more energy and stamina than usual, which could only have come from the Lord. I remember feeling so blessed. It was so satisfying to spend my entire day serving someone else and not focusing so much on myself. I enjoyed watching the parents of my camper relax and enjoy themselves, having extra hands to take care of things. I loved looking around and seeing so many families in such a happy state, in which they did not have all the usual troubles weighing on their shoulders. It was so neat to be in a place where everyone could just be themselves. If a child began screaming or doing other things that would usually be considered “disruptive” or “rude,” it was received with understanding and grace rather than judgmental stares and ignorant whispers. If ever a parent felt overwhelmed, there was someone there to help lighten the load. All of us STMs worked really hard throughout the week, but it was some of the most satisfying work we had ever done. I know from my own experience, and from talking to other STMs, that we left that camp feeling as though we were more blessed by the families we served and the work that God had done in our hearts than we had even anticipated. I really did not want to leave that place. I had grown so attached to my camper and family as well as the overall environment of the camp – so much so that I had a good cry as I was leaving the camp to go back home.

It was truly an eye-opening experience that I will not soon forget. My whole outlook on service has been altered for the better, as has my understanding of families affected by disability. The Lord has used this experience to grow my desire for service and my love for others. I would urge everyone to prayerfully consider trying something like this at least once. I promise you, it will be an unforgettable experience that you are likely to carry with you for the rest of your life. And, if you are like me, you will quickly decide that this is something you want to be involved with every year.

If you would like to know more about Joni and Friends, you can visit their website at: http://www.joniandfriends.org/

Please feel free to ask/talk to me more about the camp if you feel so inclined I was not super specific in this blog because I didn’t want it to be too long and also because I wasn’t sure how detailed I should get about my particular family and whatnot. However I am open to talking about it on a one-on-one sort of basis.

Precious boys <3

Lacking Control

Something that has become more and more evident to me through the things I am experiencing this year is that I am not in control. Of anything. Sure, I have responsibilities, I have my own domain over which I have some authority, but ultimately, I have no control. Something else that I have learned is to be thankful for this simple fact. I am not in control, but I know the sovereign God who is. I am so glad that it is He who is in control of my life and not me. What a mess I could make of things.

So, of which experiences am I speaking? Well, there have been a number of things, but I’ll give you the one that seemed to spark the flame that started this wildfire. Earlier this year, I was sitting in a plane staring out the window. My flight was late at night. The sky was completely black and, looking out, I could see nothing, unless I looked down at the man-made lights below (until, of course I was too far up to even see those). It gave me such a feeling…it is difficult to explain. But just looking out there, seeing nothing and knowing that if we were to fall, nothing would catch us…knowing that I was in this improbable machine that is just so heavy it seems like it should never be able to fly up in the sky…knowing that I could not control the plane, but had to trust a stranger to pilot it…knowing all of these things and really thinking about them made me feel strangely free. I felt calm, yet also exhilarated, especially when I realized that my whole life is like this. I am not the one in control. I could plan to fly to a specific destination at a specific time, but the plane could arrive somewhere else entirely at a time that I deem undesirable, or the plane could fall out of the sky and crash to the ground. It is not in my hands. And I know that wherever my plane may land (or crash) is right where it was intended to go all along. It is the right place for me to glorify God in whichever way He has ordained. My attitude toward this should never be anything but thankfulness, reverence, and joyfulness.

What about the things that I do? The things that I have a knack for? What about creativity? Yes, God is sovereign over that, too. I can’t just turn it on. When I want to write something, I can’t just flip a switch and have all my creative juices ready to flow when I need them. In fact, creativity and being able to create things only exist in us because we are made in the image of the original Creator; the one who had the brilliant idea to create everything we see (and don’t see). He invented creativity. He even created the things that we use to create other things.

Since I am now finished with school (have been since mid-December!), I have expected that I would have more time to write and that I would be working on some new project by this point in the year. Sure, I’ve scribbled down a few ideas here and there, but nothing that I’ve really felt the urge to develop. I’ve tried various tricks that usually spark my creativity and imagination, but the things I’ve come up with have been utterly dry. When my friends have asked me if I’ve been working on anything new, I’ve had to sheepishly inform them that I have not. I kept wondering what was wrong with me. Maybe I’m not a writer after all…maybe it was just a phase that is now over. Just letting that thought cross my mind stung horribly. I knew it couldn’t have just been a phase because I still had a passion for it. Then I realized…my talent, my creativity, my abilities do not come from me. The only reason I am ever able to write something worth reading is because God has granted it to me. When I stopped focusing on myself and what I could be doing to fix the problem, I resolved to stop worrying about it. If God wants me to write, I will write. If He wants me to have ideas, I’ll have ideas. He is in control. He calls the shots. And when my mind was finally in that place, where writing wasn’t about me and didn’t come from me, I still had writer’s block, but I was okay with that. And when I finally had an idea that I wanted to run with, and I finally felt like that word drought was being washed away by a gracious rainfall, I knew who to thank and who to continue to depend on. And it most definitely was not me.

May I always depend on the Lord for the ability to fill those pages!

Little Reminders

Arriving home from a short vacation, I had so many plans for the week ahead. There are people to spend time with, projects to finish and a messy bedroom to clean. But just before I left to head home, I began to feel sick. I didn’t feel too terrible at first, thinking I would probably feel better soon and would still be able to go about my week with all the things that I was so confident I would be able to do. But the illness got worse upon my arrival home and the next morning I felt more sick than I have in over three years. I became useless, not being able to stand for very long and not having the strength to do anything that wasn’t a sedentary activity.

I am reminded, here, of a few different things. First off, there is nothing like illness that reminds me so well of the effects of sin and the utter weakness of mankind. Second: Proverbs 16:9 which says “The mind of man plans his way, But the LORD directs his steps.” and James 4:14-15 which says “Yet you do not know what your life will be like tomorrow. You are just a vapor that appears for a little while and then vanishes away. Instead, you ought to say, ‘If the Lord wills, we will live and also do this or that.’” I am reminded that I don’t have as much control of my life, as I often think that I do. God is sovereign over everything. I had planned to do so many things, but He planned for me to slow down and realize my dependance on Him. He has reminded me that I am but a feeble human and the only way that I can accomplish anything is by the strength that He gives me.

I find joy in the fact that the Lord can bring all of this to my attention by simply allowing me to catch the flu (or whatever this is).

I may be procrastinating…

I’m . . . back?

So . . . this is awkward. My last blog post was posted three months shy of a full year ago. A lot can happen in that amount of time. Unfortunately, I somehow managed to decide that none of that was worth blogging about. And now I am out of practice. Let me clarify: 1. There were many blog-worthy events that have happened during this silent era and 2. I have been writing, just not blogging . . . there is a difference.

I’m wondering if anyone is going to read this, since it has been so long, and everyone who read it before probably suspects that this page is cold and buried. I do miss doing this and really want to start doing it again more regularly, but I need to get back into the swing of things. So this is sort of a test run for me to see if I can still do this style of writing.

Goodness, this must be a boring read. I apologize. You have my permission to fix your attentions elsewhere. Perhaps you are waiting to hear back from a friend on Facebook, or you’re wondering if the Vlogbrothers have posted a new video on Youtube today. Go right ahead. Click away, this is merely a practice post. I’ll think of something more interesting to talk about next time. Perhaps tomorrow. No . . . I’ll be finishing the homework that I’m supposed to be doing right now.

Speaking of homework . . . That is probably the main contributing factor to my absence here. Especially this semester. I am taking a Creative Writing: Creative Non-Fiction class. I have been reading a lot and working on a piece for this class. I am writing a memoir-style short story. I am estimating that it will be 15 to 20 pages long. That seemed daunting at first, but the more I get into it, the more it seems that it might actually be longer.
I’m not really sure if I’m actually enjoying writing it. Not that I’m hating it, or anything. It’s just . . . difficult. I’m writing about the experience of losing my mom. I’ve told the story to various people before, so I thought it wouldn’t be that hard. But it is. It most certainly is. I’m hitting so many road blocks that I can’t really imagine reaching my destination anymore. I will, but it’s not going to be easy. It’s a hard place to revisit and my memory has been failing me in certain areas where my story is begging for details. I have to be vigilant in my constant struggle against explaining my emotions and coming off as whiney and pathetic. I definitely think that this class is growing me as a writer. There are so many things that I didn’t even take into account before. Like showing rather than telling and trusting my audience.
I have to keep reminding myself why I am writing this story. It is not necessarily for sympathy. I am writing it because I sort of need to write it. I’ve gotten it out verbally, now I need to get it out textually. I understand my thoughts and memories better when I have written them out. I am writing this story because I don’t want the pictures to fade as they are already. I am writing this story because revisiting the sight reminds me of the things that I have learned. I am writing this story because it could possibly have a positive affect on someone else . . . not that I’m necessarily going to let everyone read it .  But anyway, I’m not sure if this is a story that needs to be told or needs to be heard (or read) but I am compelled to write it nonetheless.

So, anyway, that was a little glimpse of what my mind has been going through over the past few months. I hope it was slightly interesting to read. If you’ve read this far, thanks for sticking with it . As mentioned before, I’m just trying to get back into this because I miss it.     . . . also, I was having trouble with my homework and needed a break .

Hopefully I’ll keep at this.

New Light on Easter Weekend

Part One: Good Friday

On Good Friday I woke up a bit late, I hurried to get ready for a 12 PM church service. As I was finishing up with styling my hair, I imagined my mother knocking on the door and asking if I was almost ready. It struck me that this was going to be my first easter weekend without my mom. I thought back to last year: this time last year I had no idea that my mom would be gone in a little less than a month. I began to tear up. We should be going to this service together, I thought. My dad was at work, so, in my house, I was completely alone. The silence was really starting to get to me. I began to feel more and more upset, wanting so badly to have my mother there with me. As I continued to get ready for the service, I continued to cry about it all. I kept on praying for God to take my mind off of it. I asked Him to comfort me and help me to focus on what Good Friday was all about, because, clearly I did not have things in perspective. Then He brought a comforting thought to my mind: I’m celebrating Good Friday, the day that Christ died for our transgressions so that we can one day go to heaven and live in paradise with Him for all eternity. My mom is in His presence right now because of what He did for her…and someday I will be there too. How amazing it must be for her, to be with our Lord face-to-face! After thinking about all of this, I no longer wished that my mother was still with me. I became overjoyed for her. She made it. She’s there. Every follower of Christ yearns to be in His presence, and she’s there! What a blessing! With this in mind, I headed off to church and the Lord continued to bless me throughout the day. 

Part Two: Easter sunday

Waking up on Easter Sunday, again I began to feel depressed. I pictured my mom in her blue summer dress, asking me to help her pick out jewelry to wear with it (She used to always call me her “fashion consultant.” ). I tried to cheer myself up by reminding myself of the things God showed me on Good Friday, but it only half worked. Holidays will always be hard for me. At church our pastor spoke of the meaning of Easter, which definitely helped me put things into perspective. I was reminded that the resurrection is proof of the accomplishment of the cross, and the deity of Christ. Something that I was also reminded of is that, because Christ rose from the dead, we too can rise and meet Him in heaven.
Sometimes we still get mail addressed to my mother. If it is anything church or ministry related, I take it and open it. A few weeks ago, a newsletter from a ministry called Hope for Today came in the mail for her. I went to my room and opened it. The things that I read from it were very encouraging. It was talking about how we, as christians, have hope beyond the grave. When we die, our spirits will rise to be with the Lord in paradise, just as Christ rose from the dead. It talked about how, if the rapture happens in our lifetime, those who have died in Christ will rise first, and then we will be taken up to join them! (1 Thess. 4:13-18). We will meet with them in the heavens! This brought great comfort to me. Another comforting passage that it listed was this: Revelation 14:13b- “‘Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord from now on!’ ‘Yes,’ says the Spirit, ‘that they may rest from their labors and their deeds follow with them.’”   -My mother is in a place of rest! And she is rewarded for her deeds!

Part Tree: Conclusion

So overall this past weekend, the Lord has blessed me in taking the basic things that I’ve known to be true and caused me to see them in a new light. My mom is an example of why Jesus did what He did, and having this example helps me to understand what that means for me. The gospel message has become more real to me now than ever before. Praise the Lord!

Parents and Children

Lately, I’ve been thinking about parents. There is something I find quite interesting:

When a couple has a child, it becomes their duty to raise them in such a way that they will contribute well to society and be a decent, respectable person; a person living a purposeful life. They go to great lengths to raise this child in the right way and often worry about whether or not the child will love them. Parents often feel that flaws in their child reflect flaws in their parenting. Meanwhile, this child is always seeking the approval of its parents.  We all just want to be certain that our parents really love us. We all long to hear our parents say “I’m proud of you.” Probably even more so the older we are. So, if you think about it, it’s like a strange cycle: parents are hoping to gain the love and approval of their child (as well as approval in how they raised their child), and children are hoping to gain the love and approval of their parents. This is all in a general sense, of course. There is something there between a parent and child. We need each other. We need each other until we have that final answer: Did I do a good job? Did my child turn out well? Did I make my parents proud? I think it is interesting that we find so much meaning in the answers to such questions. 

Even when a parent has died, as my mother has, one of the main things that floats around in the child’s mind is the question, “Did I make my mother/father proud?” To know that you did, makes all the difference in your coping.

And with parents that are still living, even if they have assured you that they are proud of you, you need re-assurance. Well I know I do, it may be different for others. I think it’s because things seem to change so much, we fear that nothing is constant. 

I don’t really have a point in all of this, it’s just something I was thinking about. I’m not really sure how to wrap this up… Well, if you have any thoughts on this, leave a comment, I’d love to read your thoughts. (by the way, I’m pretty sure  you don’t need to be signed up with this website to leave a comment, so go ahead!)

Why, Hello Again

I don’t really have a plan for this post. I just feel like I hardly ever post new blogs anymore. I used to put them up at least once a week, but now, I think I’ve either run out of things to say, or I’ve lost confidence in my ability to write. I think it’s mostly the second one. I probably am not so sure of my writing anymore because I spend less time reading than I used to. I don’t have as much free time to do so, and when I do have free time I spend it doing other things. More often than not “other things” includes, wasting a lot of time on YouTube. I used to spend my free time either reading a book, writing, spending time with friends or watching television, but now I spend a considerable amount of my time watching new videos from my favorite YouTube channels. Pathetic. Waste. Of. Time. Don’t get me wrong, there are many brilliant and entertaining things on YouTube, but I just don’t think it is very good for someone, such as myself, to spend such a large amount of time on it. But alas, I’ve become addicted. I sign in to YouTube at least three times a day to check if any of the people I am subscribed to have posted a new video. I currently am subscribed to about 52 different channels and I now join in a collaboration channel with some of my friends (no, I will not give you a link to it because, frankly, I am embraced of my lack of speaking skill, or any ability to be interesting…it’s a wonder anybody reads these blogs). There is, however, an upside to my compulsive YouTube-video-watching, I am learning about people (not just specific people, but people in general). It is interesting to see other people’s points of view and how different they are. It is interesting to see what people outside of America think about certain issues. It’s a bit refreshing to look at things from different perspectives.
          But anyway, I guess now I’ll tell you how school is going. That seems to be one of the first things that people ask me about whenever I talk to them. How’s school? Well, it’s going good. This semester is definitely better than last semester. I find all of the subjects that I’m taking to be very interesting and I am learning a lot. It’s also nice that this semester I actually have friends in my classes; It does really make a difference to have friends there. My only complaint about school right now is the reading. Oh the reading! So very much reading! Now, most people are aware that I love to read, but I love to read novels, not textbooks. It is so hard for me to just sit down and read a textbook. Many times I find myself sitting down to read my textbook then a novel catches my eye. “Andrea…” it seems to whisper, “why waste your time with that boring textbook when you could be reading something entertaining.” Seriously. More often than not, I give in the the novel’s tempting whispers and end up not being prepared for class. Go figure. Maybe I should lock up my novels until the end of the semester. Oh, but then I’d lose my sanity!

                     [That second paragraph seems to somewhat contradict the first one....oh well. You can figure it out.]

         There was another thing I wanted to talk about: spring break. Yes, spring break is coming up next month. That wonderful week where I normally just relax and pretend that it’s summer. This time, I’m going to be going up to northern California to visit with some family. I will be riding on a plane by myself! Well…there will be other passengers of course, but by myself in the sense that nobody I know is traveling with me. I’m not afraid of flying (I’ve flown before) so I’m actually rather excited. Then I will get to stay with my aunt and uncle and visit with my cousins. It’s been so long since I’ve actually gone up there, They are normally the ones to travel down here. So, that’s exciting

Well, I’m pretty sure that’s all I have to say for now. I just thought I’d type out another blog. I forgot how much I enjoyed it. Plus it’s nice to communicate in some way, as my mouth is really numb at the moment (I just got back from the dentist) and I can’t really talk without sounding like I have some sort of speech impediment. I’m so hungry but I can’t eat! AAAAHHHHH!!! Okay, I’m done now. 

Until next time.

Christmas Eve To The New Year

It’s been a while since I’ve posted a blog but I’ve been feeling rather uninspired and have had trouble getting my thoughts together. I spent most of today reading though, so I feel like I can possibly post something worth reading today. 

Where to start….ah christmas eve. 

Part One: Christmas Eve

Every year my family (mom’s side of the family) has a get-together with the grandparents and the aunts and uncles and whatnot. We all met up at my uncle’s house and we had dinner as usual and enjoyed each other’s company. At these family get-togethers there are two tables: the large dining room table and the small foldable card table. You guessed it, the smaller table is the table for the kids, we always refer to it as “The Little Table.” For my entire life I have always been seated at The Little Table. I was always the youngest grandchild until I was ten years old and my cousin, Christian was born. Then three years after him, his sister heather was born. You would think that now that I am considerably older than the two youngest grandchildren, I would be promoted to The Big Table. Nope. I am still seated at The Little Table, making sure the kids eat all their vegetables and listening to their imaginative stories. Every time we have a family get-together, I think that maybe I’ll sit at The Big Table with all the adults (especially this past year since I finally  turned 18 last June) and become slightly disappointed when I realize I’ve been mistaken. But always after sitting with the kids for a while, I am glad to still be seated at The Little Table. It gives me a chance to see what’s going on with the little ones and to see how they’ve grown. I especially appreciated it this year. You see, my late mother adored children. She loved children more than pirates love treasure. She especially loved those children. She played with them, she took care of them, she taught them, and she pretty much helped raise them until she died. When she was alive, I always knew what was going on with the kids because she would always get updates from my aunt and pass all the news on to me, or she would go babysit them and tell me all the cute things they said and did. 
      So, on christmas eve this year, as I filled my plate with christmas dinner hoping to sit at The Big Table, I glanced at my little cousin, Heather and she smiled and eager smile and said “Andrea! Sit by me!” as she tapped her hand on the place setting next to hers. I smiled back at her, while inside I was a bit frustrated. But as I sat down, I remembered my mother. Well, it’s not like I had forgotten her or anything, but I remembered her…more. I remembered specifics. I remembered how thrilled she would be to sit there next to that little five-year-old girl. I remembered all the time she invested in her, and in me. I sat there and conversed with Heather, listening to her small voice as she talked about princesses and her school friends. And in that moment I felt that I was in the place of my mother. I felt her loving emotions, I thought her caring thoughts, I listened intently just as she did. It was such a peaceful feeling. 
     We finished our plates and the children ran off in a hyper excitement, staring at the presents under the tree. I walked over to The Big Table and sat next to my great aunt. We all watched as the kids opened their gifts. Then it was the adults’ turn. One of my aunts had given some presents that were to multiple persons and one of those was to my father and I, so I moved to a seat next to him which was more toward the back. We opened the present at the same time that everyone else opened it (we all got the same thing from her). It was an ornament with a poem. It was supposed to be like a letter from my mom to us from heaven. I found it to be extremely depressing and cried for a while. That night, it seemed that most my presents had to do with my mom. It was like they thought I had forgotten and wanted to put it all back in my face. I know the intentions were good ones, but I think their way of dealing with things are different from mine. To me it seems that they keep dwelling and drowning in their sorrow, while I am just doing my best to keep moving forward. While I do like to remember her, I don’t think it is a good idea to constantly morn for her.
     While we were finishing up with the presents and talking to each other, my phone rang. It was my brother! If you didn’t know, my brother is a marine and he is in Japan right now. It was so good to talk to him! I passed the phone around so everyone else got to talk to him too. So it was kind of like he was there for a little bit. 
     When all the relatives had left except my father and I (and of course my aunt, uncle and little cousins who lived there), my dad went outside with my uncle to have a cigar with him, my aunt went to her room to get ready for bed and I stayed and played with the kids. Heather and I played Barbies while Christian used his action figures to “attack” us. It had been so long since I had really gotten to spend time with them. I don’t think I’ve actually played with them since my mother died. Here and there, Christian would mention my mom and it made me feel good. I’m so glad that they remember her.

Part Two: Christmas

On Christmas day my dad had to work at the fire station. He works out in the desert so it’s about an hour and a half drive. When he works at the fire station he works 48 hours straight, so he leaves early in the morning and spends the night and whatnot. He worked last christmas too, so last year it was just me and my mom on christmas morning (my brother was in Japan then too). Since this was my first christmas without my mom, I decided to go to the fire station with my dad so I could be with him for christmas. I originally planned on following him there when he left for work at around 5:00 a.m. but when he woke me up I was exhausted so I decided to just drive there myself later on in the morning (mind you, I went to bed at 1 a.m. prior). I left the house at around 9:30 a.m. The drive was a long one for me as I usually only have to drive to places 15 to 30 minutes from my house. The weather was horrible too; the winds were strong and the rains were hard. I had to really focus. I listened to Sufjan Stevens christmas music the whole way there, I think that really kept me going. When I finally arrived at the station my dad walked me around and introduced me to people I already knew (haha). I talked with some of them for a while then watched them do their gift exchange. When they finished, my dad and I went into his room and gave each other the gifts we got for each other and just talked for a little bit. Then two of the firemen’s wives came and we all had dinner together. It was a rather odd christmas. It really didn’t feel like christmas at all; it just felt like I was visiting my dad at work for no particular reason. I started the drive home at around 4:30 p.m. The weather had gotten a lot worse. I struggled to keep my vehicle in my lane. I had to drive slow in order to keep control. I got home at around 6:20. That drive was ridiculously long. When I got home I felt like I never wanted to drive ever again (the feeling wore off in a couple of days, thankfully).
      I had planned on visiting my friends Sarah and Miguel after I got back from my dad’s work. They wanted to go to the movies and, much to my relief, they said they would drive me. It was so nice to see them again. So we went to the movies and saw Bedtime Stories. It was a cute movie. Then when we got out of the movie, I was feeling extremely tired even though it was only about 10:00 p.m. I felt like an old lady when I told them I was tired and wanted to go home for the night. 

Part Three: New Years eve

I didn’t really have much planned for new years. A lot of my friends were going to church, but my friend Jen had to work and got off at around 8:00 p.m. So I decided I’d just go to her house after she got off work so we would both have someone to hang out with for new years. We basically just stayed in her room and talked the whole time and didn’t even really celebrate the new year when it came. But it was nice to talk to her and whatnot. My other friend, Karen (Jen’s sister) came home sometime after midnight and the three of us just clowned around until I decided to come home. 
      I don’t really understand all the excitement about new years. It has no real meaning, it’s just a marker in time. We don’t celebrate new months or new weeks, so why do we celebrate new years? Some people say it’s a fresh new start, but I don’t see how that could be. Just because it’s a new year doesn’t mean the last year is erased. The new year is just a continuation of time. And by the end of this year, you’re going to be hoping for another “fresh start” in the year after that. So what is the point? We get all excited for a new year when we have no idea what the new year will hold. I certainly didn’t expect all the trials that came with this year. I hate to be a downer, but I really don’t get it. …..Happy New Year! lol

Two Empty Stockings

The other day, we put up christmas decorations. As I adorned the tree with ornaments, I remembered how that last few years it was my mother and I who would decorate the tree together. At first I was decorating it all by myself, but my dad eventually came and helped me. I managed to keep my composure while we finished the tree together. I walked back to the box of christmas decorations and found all the christmas snoopy stuffed animals that my mom had. Snoopy was her favorite. I got misty-eyed as I carried one over to her urn and placed it near the vase of roses I put there a few days before. Then there were the stockings. As I hung the stockings over the fireplace I remembered last christmas when looking at my brother’s stocking knowing he would not be able to come home from christmas caused tears to stream down my face. Now there will be two empty stockings. Only one of them will never be filled again. As I stood there staring at them, thinking such things, I became confused. I wasn’t crying. Tearing up a little bit, maybe, but not crying as I did last year when I only missed my still-living brother. I felt a numbness. I wasn’t devastated. But why? I should have lost it. I should have been weeping. It reminded me of a conversation I had with my brother, not too long after my mother died. We were talking about how everyone expected us to always look sad and not to laugh or smile at anything. Or at least we felt like that’s what they expected. So we felt kind of guilty every time something made us laugh. That’s kind of what I’m feeling now. Like I should be mourning every second. Because my mother is a woman to be greatly missed. When I really think about this I do realize it’s not quite right, but for some reason it feels like it is. I know that my mother would want me to feel happy. I know that she wouldn’t want me to be in mourning all the time. I know that nobody expects that of me. I know that it’s not disrespectful to to be happy. I don’t understand why it makes me feel guilty.

No Vember

I realize that I haven’t posted a blog in quite a while. I’ve been slacking in my journal writing as well. I just spent some time today writing about four pages of what’s been going on this month in my journal. So I figured I should take some time to blog as well. It is pretty relaxing. 

Hmm…where to start. Well I didn’t get very far in my NaNoWriMo novel, I’ve only written about 3,400 words. I’ve been a bit too busy to write. But what I have written I’ve enjoyed and I still plan on finishing the novel. I’m actually pretty excited about it. I’ve had the idea for it in my mind for quite some time and it’s nice to finally do something with it and see it come to life. A few of my friends have read what I’ve written so far and they really liked it and want to read more, so that makes me feel pretty good. I didn’t expect to write something that anyone would really like. Maybe I will be a successful novelist some day.

This month has been hard for me. I’ve been missing my mother like crazy. It was weird not to have her here for thanksgiving. It will be weird to not have her here for christmas. This year, it will be just me and my dad for christmas. And I won’t even be at home either because my dad is working on christmas day so I’m going with him to the fire station and driving back by myself that night. It’s going to be very emotional. But I guess I have to start getting used to the absence of my mother. I’m still not used to it after 6 months. It’s still strange, I can still feel the hole. The lack of something wonderful. The lack of an intense love and care. Because nobody can possibly love me like my mother did. 

I was filling out my new calendar for 2009, and it made me a bit sad. Writing in all the special days that my mother will be absent for. Realizing that I will never again make her a birthday card, mother’s day card, or christmas card. I also realized that my mom died about 5 days before mother’s day. That was slightly distressing. 

Okay, enough with the sad stuff…I’ve been going to a lot of hockey games this month. It’s been really fun. My dad has season tickets for the Ontario Reign and we have really good seats…like four rows from the glass…yes, be jealous haha. It’s really awesome. 

My friend Jennifer and I went to see my favorite band, The Decemberists, the other day. It was amazing to say the least. There is something about seeing a band live that just intensifies my love and appreciation of their music. It’s such a beautiful thing to see musicians creating masterpieces right in front of you, in the very room you stand in. 

My first semester of college is coming to a stressful end. finals are coming up, and papers are due soon. So I’ve been stressing about that lately. But I think I’ll do alright, it’s really just a matter of sitting down and really concentrating…that’s just been a little difficult lately. I plan on taking easier classes next semester.

I finished my Christmas shopping. What a relief. I was worried for a while that I’d have to take some money out of my savings to buy christmas presents. But I ended up having enough. My employer hasn’t been working me very much lately so I’ve been pretty broke. I’ve been driving my brother’s car too because we still haven’t found another one for me since the accident. My brother’s car is such a gas hog so, thankfully, my dad has been helping me out with gas. But I feel bad when he helps me with money. I want to be able to afford everything myself. I want to grow up and learn to be an adult. But I guess that will be easier when I get paid more. I’m looking for another job. I’m not sure if I want to quit my old one and just have one new job, or to just add a new job, and still work for my old job as well since they hardly work me anyway. But I don’t know if it would be worth it or not. Next semester I will have a better school schedule, so it might be easier to manage a schedule. But anyway, this is all very boring. 

I hope you all had a nice month. Get your christmas shopping done! You will feel better!

Thanks for taking an interest in my blog.

A Novel In a Month?

This month is going to be one of the most busy and hectic months of my life…and it is all my doing. So I’m a kind of behind in my school-work because last week, I spent almost no time on homework due to the car accident, John Green’s book signing (truly the highlight of my week…and possibly month…year? haha), halloween, and other busy fun things. Plus I’ve been making more of an effort to go to church, which means I have to learn to manage my time better. So yeah, those are my excuses for being behind(not to mention I ditched some of my classes…I know, I’m a terrible scholar haha). So this month I really need to buckle down because the semester is going to be over before I know it. Another reason I will be busy this month is because it contains two very important birthdays of friends that I see often, therefore I will, no doubt, be invited to whatever it is they are putting on…or whatever. Reason 3: thanksgiving + christmas-shopping-rush at work(most likely). #4-My best friend Jen and I are going to see my favorite band, The Decemberists! I can’t wait!!!

Thing 5: NaNoWriMo. National Novel Writing Month that is. I’ve decided to participate in it this year, and I’m quite excited about it. If you don’t know, NaNoWriMo is this thing where every november whoever wants to participate, writes a 50,000 word novel in the month of November. No joke: start writing on November 1st and be finished by November 30th. It’s basically just a thing to get your creative juices flowing and help you not to worry so much about whether or not it is “good.” Just write it, get it out, do what you want…and if it’s crap, it’s crap and your just awesome for even trying. And naturally, since I am an aspiring author, this really appealed to me. I’m getting a late start though, because I didn’t decide to do it until the 5th, so I need to get crack’n! But even if I don’t finish all the way to 50,000 words, it will be nice to have tried, and perhaps I will continue to write even when it’s all over…maybe it will actually be good haha. 
If you want to know more about NaNoWriMo, and maybe even join, the website is: http://www.nanowrimo.org/
…and my personal profile on there is at: http://www.nanowrimo.org/eng/user/459521
…so if you want to do it too, make a profile and whatnot then add me as a writing buddy and we can encourage each other and whatnot. I’d love that

So yeah. Now you know why I will be busy this month. So that, of course means that my blogs will be few and far between…well most likely anyway. Maybe I will post excerpts of my novel every once in a while…if I deem it worthy.

What Just Happened?

Today(well, technically yesterday since it’s past midnight now), I went to a family get-together for my grandpa’s birthday. I had a good time talking to my family, catching up and whatnot. I didn’t want to say goodbye, but it was getting dark, and we were all parting ways. On my way home, I was relaxed, thinking about my day, listening to radiohead, just cruising. I was approaching an intersection (at Church and Rochester, some of you may know where that is) my light was green and I was going straight. It was one of those intersections where the people turning left have to yield to the oncoming traffic. Well, the guy across from me did not yield. It happened so fast, one minute, I’m driving, the next minute, my car is sliding sideways, the airbags inflating in my face, white powder everywhere. I started freaking out, disoriented. “oh my God, oh my God, oh my God…” or something like that. seeing the cracked windshield and realizing how bad the accident was, I touched my face. No blood. “Thank God,” I said aloud, and I meant it. I looked around my car, everything misplaced. I tried to open my door. It wouldn’t budge, I started getting misty-eyed, and hyperventilated a little bit. I looked up and saw a man coming toward my car with a concerned look on his face. I rolled down the window and he asked me if I was okay, “I can’t open my door,” was all I could manage in my state of disorientation. He pulled on it for a little while, and got it to open. As I turned to exit the vehicle, I felt a sharp pain in my leg “my leg hurts” I told the man. He was on the phone calling the police, “here, come over and sit on the curb,” he walked with me as I limped to the curb. When he saw that I was okay, he walked back to the other car. I just sat there for a moment, looking at my car. My baby was totaled. I looked up and saw the curious passers by, and thought it odd to be on the other end of things for once. I called my dad. When he answered, I didn’t know what to say, I was still breathing heavily, almost crying. “What’s wrong?” he asked. I told him about the accident, and he tried to calm me. I wasn’t so much worried about myself, to be honest, I was worried about my car(lol). A man on his bicycle had stopped and asked me if I was okay, I told him I was and continued to talk on the phone with my dad. When we hung up, I walked back over to my car in a daze. I sat in the driver seat and reached over to get my purse. The police and firefighters arrived quickly. I was the only one injured, so they all swarmed around me at my car, asking me various questions. Questions that I would have to answer multiple times through the night. They took me in an ambulance to the emergency room because my leg was swollen, and hurt(still hurts) pretty bad. They strapped me onto a stretcher, which I thought was unnecessary and lifted me into the ambulance. So I had a pleasant talk with the attractive paramedic on the way to the hospital(haha). My dad was an hour or so away, so his friend came to the hospital to help me and whatnot. This was my first time ever being a patient in a hospital. They ended up taking me to the same hospital that my mom died in, which of course brought on some horrible flashbacks, but I resisted the urge to cry because I didn’t want people to think that I was crying over my leg….plus I didn’t want to explain it to them either. It was weird to be in the very emergency room that she was in. The very place that I realized she might die. The very place that I had to make the decision of whether to let her die, or let her live in a state of no recognition, no remembrance, no understanding…a state in which she would not wish to live. It was weird to see that waiting room that my family crowded into in panic and worry, discussing the options and hoping she’d at least be alive when Daniel got there….well you get the idea…lots of memories that I could do without. But anyway, they took some x-rays, and checked me out and whatnot. I’m fine. Nothing is broken, just a messed up, swollen leg that’s gonna hurt for a while, and my neck and back will be sore. ..Oh and I have a sort of “rug burn” on my nose and on my chin from the airbag. My dad called me rudolf because my nose is red (ha). 

So I don’t have a car right now. and my CDs and a book my grandma gave me are still in my car…so we have to figure out where my car is and everything tomorrow. I’ll be driving my dad’s car until we get a rent-a-car. So yeah, I think I about covered everything. Just thought this would be something I should blog about. I’m still kind of shocked though. That was the last thing I expected. I guess that’s why they so fittingly call them accidents. My first accident. I’m going to be a paranoid driver for a while. 

I’m going to miss my car. RIP Sufjan, you were a good car. lol

Perceptions

I have recently read the book Paper Towns (by John Green) and, not only did I thoroughly enjoy the story, I leaned from it. The book is ultimately about perceptions and how we imagine each other. I have two things to talk about considering these things.

1. At one point in the book, one of the characters talks about expectations. He basically said that we should not be mad at other people for not being the way we think they should be. For example, if someone is late to things all the time, we shouldn’t be mad that they aren’t on time, like we expect they should be, because being late is just part of who they are. And we should accept that and remember that there are other reasons to like that person, and our opinion of them shouldn’t be based on their flaws. This made me re-think a lot of things regarding some of my friends and family, and even myself. I realized that I was getting upset at people for not being like me. And it also occurred to me that they were looking at me in the same way. It’s really interesting if you think about it. This could also be helpful in dealing with the people around you.

2. The second point is similar: People often do not see other people as they really are, no matter how well they know them. We imagine each other a certain way and are normally very wrong about our imaginings. People may not be who we think they are, and maybe we should be careful how quickly and easily we draw conclusions. The pictures you have painted of the people in your life may be completely inaccurate.

What a Lovely Egg

I woke up this morning at about 6:35, ten minutes later than I had planned. I had to rush to get ready, I had class to get to. I showered, dressed, brushed my teeth, etc. as quickly as I could in my dazed and exhausted state. With a rumbling stomach I rushed out the door, planning on stopping by starbucks for snack and some espresso to aid me in my concentration for my early class. As I walked out to my car I examined it as I usually do, estimating how long I can go before I need to wash it again. As I got closer to my car, I noticed an odd substance splattered all over the back of my car, it was transparent and thick, and looked sticky. Then I realized what it was when I saw some white things sticking to the substance. Someone had thrown an egg at my car. I was furious. That was the last thing I needed as well as the last thing I expected. I had walked out the door with just enough time to make it to starbucks to quiet my empty stomach and make it to class on time. But now I had to waste time cleaning up the mess. Who would have done this? I don’t really have any enemies that I can think of. I figured it was just some kids being immature and oh so stupid. 
After I washed it all off I headed to starbucks, but didn’t make it due to the fact that on my way there I realized I wouldn’t have time. So I stopped at a near by doughnut shop and got…you guessed it, a doughnut and I also got an iced coffee. Upon sipping the coffee, I grew more upset, “this tastes horrible, it doesn’t even taste like coffee!” I muttered to myself. Then, as I was waiting at the stoplight nibbling on my doughnut and sipping my you-have-got-to-be-kidding coffee, the light turned green. But get this, the two cars in front of me did not move. I grew more upset and more impatient. “I hate being late!!! GOOOOO!” I said, not really out loud, but I was thinking it. I sighed in disbelief as the light slowly changed from green to yellow, and finally to red and nobody moved, not even an inch. So I sat there, more frustrated than I’ve been in quite some time, finishing my doughnut. When the light turned green again, to my relief, this time, the cars moved. And what next? All but one traffic light on my way to class were red. ALL BUT ONE!!! I couldn’t believe my misfortune. I had never had a morning like this before.
When I was almost to the parking lot, I was sure that there would be no spaces left and I would have to park waaaayyyy far away form my class. But, to my surprise there were many spaces when I arrived. So I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself down realizing that I had gotten all worked up for undoubtably …no reason. In fact, I had time to sit in my car for a while, and enjoy my music and sip my coffee, which was all of the sudden tasting delicious. I was not at all late to my class, in fact, I was the first one there. 
Looking back on the whole ordeal, I am so embarrassed and a bit annoyed with how I reacted. Just a few inconveniences and I allowed it all to destroy my mood, and gave it potential to destroy my day. I didn’t used to be like this, I used to be calm and not let things get to me unless they were big things worth fussing over(which by the way, hardly anything is). So I guess the moral of the story is….well…relax. Most of the things that upset us are not really worth all that we give it. I let myself get so upset in so little time at so few things(small things) when really, I had nothing to worry about. It wasn’t that much of a hassle to wash the egg off my car, I just had to wet a rag, scrub, dry, and put some glass cleaner stuff on it. No big deal, it took about 5 minutes, maybe less. I still got something in my stomach and the coffee didn’t taste so bad after I got used to it and accepted that it wasn’t supposed to taste like coffee(b/c hardly anybody would like it if it did). But anyway, you get the idea.
I’m going to try and be optimistic for the rest of the day. Hopefully I won’t forget this lesson by tomorrow morning. 

So, next time someone throws and egg at your car…..HAVE A NICE DAY.

P.S.-If you are the one who egged my car…. whether you wanted me to or not…I forgive you haha
 And thanks, I needed a nice dose of perspective.

Unsettling Familiarity

A while ago (I’m not quite sure how long ago, maybe a week or two), I was out to lunch with some of my friends. We were having fun, joking around and whatnot, when my friend corey got a phone call. He got up and walked a way from us so he could take the call without distraction. We all just continued in our odd conversations, not realizing what upsetting news was being brought to our dear friend. When he finished his phone conversation, he slowly walked over to his cheerful friends. He quietly sat into his seat, and with tears in his eyes and a quivering lip, he informed us that his father was in the hospital and not doing very well at all. Instantly my heart sank. I wasn’t hungry anymore. We all just stared at him just as helplessly as he stared back. My mind was racing. All the images of my dying mother flashed across my mind. All the terrible emotions flooded out through my eyes. My friend Lisah, wise as can be, suggested we all pray for him right there in the food court. So we bowed our heads and one by one we prayed for him. It was so hard for me to get the words out because I was crying just about as hard as he was. All I could think of was I didn’t want him to hurt the way that I was hurting. I didn’t want him to have to go through all of this. 

When we finished praying we threw away our half-eaten meals and headed for my car. I put my arm around corey and offered whatever comfort I could, knowing all the while, there is only so much I can do. I drove as fast as I could to get corey to his car so he could get to the hospital. I know that when I first heard that my mom was in the hospital all I could think about and all that mattered to me was getting there to be with her as fast as I could. We got there safely despite my speeding and despite the blur of my tears. I brought corey to his car, knowing that he was going to drive as fast as he could, I reminded him that the last thing his family needs is to be visiting him in the hospital as well. I drove home praying that he would get there safely. 

When I arrived home, I fell to the floor. I cried as hard as I did the day that I knew my mother was going to die. I felt so helpless. I didn’t know what to do. So I tried to think of what I could do for them. So I went out and put together a little care package and later that day my friend Jennifer and I went to visit the family in the hospital. I wish there was more I could have done. But in situations like this…there really isn’t much you can do. The family was happy to see us, and things seemed like they were getting better. So I went home feeling a bit better. 

From there, there have been many ups and downs. One day Corey tells me his dad is doing better, and the next, something else is wrong. And it seemed to keep going back and forth in this fashion. 

The other day, Corey informed me that things were getting worse again. Much worse. So I kept praying. 

Today, I got a text message. He had passed away. 
I’m really getting tired of people I love losing loved ones. It hits me harder every time. I really don’t understand this, but I am convinced that God has a purpose for all of it. I just wish it didn’t have to be so devastating.
But I said it before, and I’ll say it again: I don’t want a God that I can understand.

 

In Memory of Jerry Todd. 

Brother

So I don’t even really have time to post a blog right now, but I really want to, so I will try to be quick. 

First I will give you some context as I know that some people reading my blogs don’t know much about my family or what has been going on with me this year. 
My brother Daniel is in the marines and is currently stationed in Japan. We are really close so it is hard for me to have to go so long without seeing him. As you probably know if you have read my past blogs, talked to me lately, or seen my myspace page, our mother passed away this year in May. It was the most bittersweet thing for my brother to come home while my mother was dying in the hospital. It was the worse possible reason for him to be visiting, but I had missed him so much that it was so nice to see him again (what an understatement that is). I think that I have a special relationship with my brother because we have gone through so much hardship over the years. I think that losing our mother, whom we both loved more than words can express, also aided us in growing closer to each other. It was extremely devastating to leave him at the airport when he had to go back to Japan. I wish I could talk to him face to face every day.

So there you go…thats your context. Now on to what I was planning on writing about. So lately we haven’t been able to communicate with Daniel as much because he moved rooms and no longer has a phone that he could use. He also has limited internet use. We can’t call him and he doesn’t have much opportunity to call us. (At least lately he has been able to email us a bit). A few weeks ago he sent us an email and it literally brought me to tears. I cannot even begin to tell you how much I miss him. 
In a few weeks he will be going on a big ship and going from port to port. So we will not be able to be in contact with him at all. I’m not sure how long he will be doing that, but I know it will be much longer than I want it to be. I’m thinking it will be a few months, but possibly a year. I don’t remember exactly what he told me about that, but even so, the military changes plans very often.
The other night, well it was about 4 in the morning(sunday morning), my phone rang. Of course, I was sleeping so it woke me up, but I didn’t recognize the number so I didn’t want to answer it. So naturally I just pressed the button on the side to quiet the phone and went back to sleep. When I woke up and listened to my voice mail, I was very upset with myself.  It was my brother. He had finally gotten a chance to call me, and I didn’t answer the phone! In the voicemail, though, he said he would try to call the next day if he could find a way. So I prayed all day that he would be able to call. 
I was half expecting him to call in the middle of the night last night, but he didn’t. So I was pretty sad about it thinking “if only I had just picked up the phone!!”
To my surprise, I got a phone call today, at noon. I did not recognize the number…it was Daniel! I was so happy to hear his voice! We talked about what we had been up to and whatnot. We had a good conversation. I didn’t want to stop talking to him, but he had to go after about a half hour. So we exchanged I-Love-you’s as we both knew very well that anything could happen and this could be the last conversation we have. This realization does not come only because he is a marine and his job can be dangerous. It is because the unthinkable happened last May. We had no way of knowing that our mother would be gone so soon. I think every time me and my brother say goodbye now, we make sure we are leaving on good terms. And we always make sure the other one knows we love them. Oh, I hope that wasn’t our last conversation. I hope I get to see him and hug him again. But only time will tell. All I can do is pray and wait. And trust that God won’t put anything on my plate that I can’t handle swallowing.

So of course you know I am going to tell you this: you never know when someone you love so dearly is going to pass away. Please make sure you don’t leave anything left unsaid. I was fortunate enough to feel that my mother knew everything that I could have possibly wanted to say to her. We left on very good terms. I can’t imagine what it would be like if we hadn’t.

A Few Things

There are a few things that have come to my attention recently and have been at the forefront of my mind lately. 

#1: I’ve noticed that I am more judgmental and prideful than I thought I was. I just cringed a little bit as I typed that sentence, because those are character flaws that I really hate admitting that I posses. Well, judgement and pride aren’t always something I consider to be flaws, but when they are taken too far, they are horrible. I’ve realized that often I cannot tell the difference between pre-judging and reasonable logic. I have been having expectations due to conclusions I came to with what I thought was analytical reasoning, but was actually just prejudice (and for those of you who don’t understand that prejudice does not always pertain to race, well…I’m not talking about race haha). I have been very prideful in thinking that I already knew details of situations, because of “clues” I picked up on. Ugh, so basically I am ridiculous. And I apologize if you have been subject to this. Seriously, next time you see that I am doing this, CALL ME OUT ON IT! I need to be put in my place sometimes. 

#2: I have been noticing how extremely hard it is for most people to shut their mouths and just listen. One of my friends (she knows who she is) is having a difficult time because many people are not listening to her, they simply have formed their own opinions about a certain matter and will not even let her make a point. They don’t listen to her objectively. They have their mind set, and will not shake from it. I have also been subject to such subjective listening. Sometimes people just don’t take the time to hear the whole story. So I urge you, next time a friend is talking to you about something, shut your mouth, fix your eyes on them and just listen. And while they are talking, don’t focus on your own opinions that are floating around in your head, be a blank slate and try to see where they are coming from. Seriously it’s not that hard. 

#3: Lately I have realized how completely different everything is in my life now compared to last year. Many of you know of all the changes that have occurred, losing my mom, graduating high school, gaining many more responsibilities, fending for myself a bit more…well I won’t go in to much detail because those things really aren’t the point of this paragraph. What has really amazed me is how my way of thinking and some of my opinions have changed. I think what has happened is I started to think for myself more instead of letting authority figures and people I look up to form my thoughts and opinions. I guess it is fitting that this is also the year I will be voting for the first time haha. It is very refreshing and re-assuring to be looking at things differently. There are things that I never would have imagined questioning that I now disagree with. If someone would have told me that I would change my views on such matters I would have laughed in their face. Well, I probably wouldn’t do that, but what I mean, of course, is I would not believe them. But yeah, I just found that to be interesting. And that’s all I really have to say about that for now.

If you read all of that, thanks. I didn’t even want to read over it myself haha

The Problem of Modern Feminism

So there is something that has been really bothering me for quite some time now. I don’t know why I have never blogged about it before, I guess I am a little afraid of being attacked by feminazis. But I think I am ready to take the heat now. Some might say that I am being harsh on my own sex, but this is simply not the case, bear with me please…

Have you noticed how the media portrays men and women today? T.V. shows, Commercials, Magazines, etcetera…oh it just kills me. Just about every time I turn on the television, I see men being degraded and women being exalted. Think about it. Most television shows and commercials depict the man as stupid and incompetent and the woman as intelligent and able. I noticed this a while back and it seemed as though I was the only one bothered by this. Then recently the leader of a women’s Bible study that I attend pointed it out as well…thats probably why I gained the courage to actually sit down and blog about it. I thought feminism was about being equals, not being higher than men. But apparently I was ignorant. I think the main problem is that women don’t understand that we can be equals with men, but that doesn’t mean we need to try and take over everything. Today women are trying to have careers, take care of their children, take care of their homes, take care of their husbands and maintain a social life. This is simply too much for one person to handle. That is why so many children are neglected and so many houses are filthy and unwelcoming. And I believe this also is part of the reason so many marriages fail. The husband and wife both work full time jobs and come home tired and irritable and are at each other’s throats while trying to maintain order in the household. Most of their interaction is argumentative and angry. Granted there probably are some people who can do it all and manage their lives well, but for most people this is not the case. And it really bothers me because women are constantly pushed to “make something of themselves” it is frowned upon to be a homemaker and care for your family. We are pushed to pursue a high-paying career and to put it above everything else. Let me just say this, if you want to be that kind of woman, DON’T START A FAMILY. You will most likely neglect them and care more about yourself and your success than you do about them, which is terrible and not worth it. If you are going to be a wife and mother, you need to be ready to play the part. If you want to be a big successful work-aholic career woman and still have a family, its pretty much like being a teacher yet hating kids and not helping them with anything…its no good and its even damaging to the children. And on top of that, trying to balance all these things will wear you out and most likely depress you. 

Well I could go on about this, but I think you get the gist of it. If you want to argue about it…go ahead, but first, I want you to look at what I’ve said objectively and actually consider it. Also, know that arguing with me probably won’t get either of us anywhere…but anyway.. I guess that is all…