faith

Another Goodbye, A Closing, and A New Year

This one has been bouncing around in my brain the last few weeks and I’ve been trying to sort through so many emotions. Figure I’ll sort it out here like I always do lol. The Irving house finally found its new owners. About a week ago another tumor took our sweet Paris. And inexplicably a new year is upon us.

We signed the papers on the Irving house four years to the day of when I unpacked the last box, hung the last picture, and posted the before and after video of the renovation from moving into Turtle Summit. Funny sometimes how God’s timing works. I’ve been trying to put my mind around the emotions there, cause there are some, but can’t quite get there. When I reflect back on who I was then…man.

Four years ago I was so angry. So tired. So overwhelmed. So afraid. If I dared to crack open one of my prayer journals I can almost promise you those prayers read something like “give me my life back” or “rewind the clock”. My children were leaving home, my husband was gone, and I had absolutely no idea who I was. And quite frankly I was crazy. Out of my mind flipping crazy. I look back on that person and wonder where she came from and thank God every day that he put the right tools and people in my path to get me through.

As I look around today? My list of blessings is as overwhelming as that list of pain and sorrow was. A home I never could have dreamed this small town girl would ever have. A man I adore who loves me beyond measure. A job that challenges me and pushes me to keep growing even when I’d like a minute to breathe.

Last weekend we said goodbye to another of our fur babies. She was older but we weren’t ready. She had a tumor in her ear that they couldn’t promise us wasn’t in her brain. She was in pain and not herself. We kept the promise we made each other not to prolong our babies lives for our own inability to say goodbye. But less than three months after losing Hope it just made the grief hole rip open again. The energy in the house has shifted again and the three remaining girls are tying to find a new rhythm. They are very clingy to us and hate when we leave the house.

Tim and I’s word for 2025 is “intentional”. So often we find ourselves at the end of a week, month, or year having just responded to all that came at us instead of acting intentionally towards our goals. We want to work on the goals we have set and live life on our terms. I think some of that is a result of seeing what we accomplished when we set our mind to it with the house. Not sure. We just know that as we heal from some of what 2024 took from us and embrace some of what it gave us we have big plans.

I am waking up at night with my mind and my heart racing. Anxiety coursing through me that I can’t identify. I thought it was the house. But with that settled not sure what it is. Work is out of control busy so maybe it’s that. But I know that if I turn it over to God and just lift it in prayer it’ll resolve itself in time. Just takes the one thing hardest for me – faith.

What are you reflecting on in as we close out 2024?

—Amy

Anxiety Sucks

So for whatever reason I’ve never been one of those types of people who do things the easy way. Whether through luck of dealing with the *stuff* life dishes out or just being late out of the starting gate on major decisions I tend to have an avalanche of changes all at the same time. For an anxiety sufferer that it gets worse with age? FML.

I am writing this from about 30k feet somewhere between DFW and Seattle on our way to the Alaska trip we’ve had in the works with the hubster and my MIL’s for almost a year. I am trying to remember a time I had such a struggle even getting OUT the door for a trip. Between Hope’s diagnosis, the house buying process going on at home, being on the cusp of the fall rush at work, scheduling moving personally (and oh yah professionally come October), and a full scale change of my mental health meds? This girl is on some shaky ground. Sobbing as I left the house today….gently pushing Hope back in the house as she tried to follow me out like she has been doing in her cling on phase here lately….there was a moment when Tim looked at me and said “honey if you want to stay home it really is ok”. And a second moment where I really truly almost did just that. Not sure even he realizes how close I came to stepping back through that door.

But I am blessed with a daughter who loves my fur kids as much as I do. A bestie in that same group. Another bestie who is a rock star realtor giving everyone what for on the purchase of our house. Family who is coming up late next week to take a shift with the dogs. A hubby who put cameras up in the house so I can get an eyeball full of the babies whenever I need (which ironically is the ONLY thing that doesn’t work on this plane’s WIFI). Remote access to the office so I can stay caught up and not add being behind to it all. Even in my worst anxiety attack when I remember to breathe I know I am blessed. But dang it it takes a hot minute sometimes. When did anxiety become part of our culture and everyday life for so many of us? Is it the unrelenting pressure to always be, perform, do? Anyone got any non-pharmaceutical tips and tricks for kicking that beast to the curb permanently?

I’m blessed with a great counselor who always has plenty to help me. My biggest issue is IN the moment, like when I was walking out the door looking in Hope’s sad eyes today, none of them are larger than the fear, doubt, and paralyzing anxiety. I described it to someone today like standing on the edge of a cliff. On one hand I’m looking over my shoulder afraid I’m gonna miss something at home if I go. On the other I’m looking at the jump afraid something bad is gonna happen if I don’t go. I get caught up in the who I’m gonna hurt or what “damage” I’m gonna cause…and my “gut” I have relied on instinctively for so many years? That stupid thing fled the building about four years ago. And the real biotch of it all is that if I’m not careful I will miss something this week while we’re off doing something I normally love…and seeing something through my husband’s eyes that lights his fire the way the Caribbean does mine.

It all just sucks. There are no easy answers and no “quick” fixes. Only solution is to strap on the iron underpants and ride it out. When the year is done and everything levels out I know we’ll be hella proud of the things we decided on as a couple and the progress we made. We’re headed towards small(er) town life that has always made me happy. But we have a long fourth quarter in front of us….

Blessings y’all – Amy

When Did It Change?

There was a time in my life I would have said I thrived on succeeding under pressure. Grandpa in the hospital? I’d put my head down and do anything I could to handle it for my grandma. Husband in kidney failure? Me again. I don’t need any help – I’ve got this. World off it’s axis at work due to it being the busy season? Sign me up. You can count on me and I won’t let you down no matter what.

My counselor says it’s cause I had to learn how to survive at a young age. But also that it is driven by an obsessive need to prove myself good enough. Good enough for who? No idea. But we’ve come to the conclusion it drives me in everything I do. And I use the word drives because it’s currently driving me off the cliff in terms of my health. So when did that rock solid ability to handle anything start to change? When did my body start to rebel and my mind sit and spin at night? Hours and hours of tossing and turning and having conversations in my mind about how I would’ve, should’ve, or could’ve handled something. When did I become unable to rearrange the living room without validation from an outside source that it looked okay for Pete’s sake? I can’t even pray without wondering if I’m “doing it right”.

My best guess would be when my world upended a few years ago and I looked around. (Reality is it’s probably part of aging.) No one needs me anymore. Not in the protect me from the storm put food in my belly and a roof over my head kind of way. I ceased being a wife when Fred died and I got downgraded in the mom department when the kids grew up. With that came the absolutely mind bending truth that I had no idea who I was outside of those things. A realization I’m guessing most women come to at some point but still. That period in my life drove me to my counselor and the things we have unlocked have made it difficult to go back.

These days the doctors are working tirelessly to figure out why I can’t sleep. Why the weight has not crept back on but leaped back onto my body. Why I ache in my shoulders, neck, and back constantly. Food sensitivity tests, genetic tests, blood work, you name it. I’m being asked to invest time in myself. To “let go” more. How does one do that? How does a stress addicted workaholic with a need to prove herself to anyone and everyone do that exactly? Question of the day right there….

I find myself wondering what life will look like in 5, 10, or 20 years. Am I prematurely aging myself because I can’t rewire 40 year old programming? Am I working to live or living to work? Can I really see myself retiring and not facing the grind everyday? Are we doing all the things we should be doing to get ourselves where we want to be in the next few years? Geez – I’m even starting to give you an example of the hamster wheel in my brain.

I have the surreal moments these days where I look at my life from a 30,000 foot view and can’t find the words to tell my kids how proud I am of them. To tell my husband how lost I would be without him. To allow myself to fully lean in on him (or anyone) and just let them carry me for a little while. When did being able to survive massive doses of the crap life deals out become debilitating instead?

The short answer is I don’t have any answers to any of these questions. I suspect there are women (and men) out there who can relate. For now I just keep plugging at the tasks the counselor and my doctors have given me hoping that some or all of it changes before too much more damage is done. I feel like an imposter going through the motions of life instead of being able to sink in and enjoy the beautiful things God has given me.

If you can relate, shoot me a note. If you have advice, I’d love to hear it. Words of encouragement that this is all temporary? Bring it on.

Blessings Y’all – Amy

The Weary Traveler

Have you ever just watched what is going on around you when you travel? I mean notice the people flying past you because they cut it a little too close for their flight. Or the tired mom who has a kid strapped to her, one in the stroller, and is dragging a carry on? What about the harassed TSA worker who people treat them like they personally made the security rules just to harass them?

I think with the different legs of this trip the oddities of the human race has struck me more than it usually does. It is sad to me how often a smile, “please”, and “thank you” catches people off guard. I’ve had people look at me like “what do you want” and people whose whole face lit up when they returned the gesture. It takes so little to be just a little bit kind but I can tell from watching those around me that kindness is drifting farther and farther away. Having spent many hours with crew members and watching airport workers this last week I have huge respect for what they put up with on a daily basis.

I realize it’s a sign of the times but the amount of people we ran into with zero self awareness – of others’ personal space or of their own volume – left me with ringing ears and a very intense fight or flight response (more flight than anything). I realize that with alcohol involved that is not uncommon but sheesh. I’ve been elbowed out of the way for food, had my suitcase run into when the person coming at me had six feet on the other side of them and I was walking along a wall, and been run out of my seat because the person next to me or behind me was yelling like they were at a sporting event to a person sitting less than a foot from them. I’ve seen a crew member cleaning up puke in a sink in the bathroom when a toilet was literally a foot away. I’ve talked to a lady who had to go change her shorts after sitting at a slot machine where someone opted to pee in the chair rather than go to the bathroom.

I realize this echos my last post about will kindness ever come back in fashion but how have we evolved so far from the compassionate loving creatures that God created us to be. How have we all become so focused on what WE want and what makes US feel good that we can’t extend care and compassion to those around us whose circumstances may be dramatically different than ours? What gives us the right to treat workers at airports, restaurants, and cruise ships like they are lesser than us just because they make their living in a service industry? Have you ever stopped and thought about how bad the job market must be in these Eastern European countries that they have to come here and deal with us in order to take care of their parents or children? Have we really drifted that far in the human race? To not realize that a series of different choices or factors out of our control could have placed us in the exact same position?

I miss the genteel way my grandma raised me to behave – do unto others as you would have done to you – being present in the world as a whole. Where you said please, thank you, and bless you, where ladies covered what God blessed them with, hats came off at the table, and you’d never wear pajamas to the airport or a swimsuit in the dining room at a restaurant. I’ll never ever regret traveling and I’m not perfect at kindness by any stretch of the imagination. I have my days where I literally just want to get from point a to point b at my speed and on my timeline without dealing with anyone. But when I stop and think about it I can chill.

How easily it could be me that was dependent on the kindness of others in order to keep my lights on or feed my children.

So for those of you who will read this when scrolling killing time at the airport or on a cruise ship or on the bus – say hello and smile to the person next to you. Or to the person taking your food order or sweeping the bathroom. That one kindness may wind up being the highlight of their day.

Blessings y’all – Amy

Calendar of Tears

For Christmas I gave Tim a calendar that contained all of the special people in our lives birthdays, anniversaries, important events. I also noted a small heart on days that are anniversaries/days that can be trigger days for me or have special significance.

Talking to Em last week after Mom’s birthday about us being able to take a breath after February I sort of put together in my head why those small hearts on Tim’s calendar mattered. The calendar of my life is marked with days to look out for, anticipate, pray over, and sometimes shed tears. A calendar littered with tears…I’ll explain.

In the aftermath of early grief those days – anniversaries, birthdays, holidays, special memories – they are like a tidal wave slamming into you and taking the breath out of you. What I have found is that as time moves on you don’t quite know on those days if you are going to get a tidal wave or just a lapping at your ankles. Call me crazy but the uncertainty is almost worse.

As I have grown older the calendar has become littered with “seasons” that have nothing to do with the weather. Periods of weeks or months where the bracing for the wave or the splash is just endless. December is a bad one. February is another. And by some odd quirk of dates there is a six week period from April 24th to June 5th that marks off when Mom died (4/24), PawPaw (5/14), and Fred (6/5). The three most important people in Em and I’s lives died within three weeks of each other on the calendar – just different years.

Some would say “why not just ignore those dates if they hurt” (yes I’ve had that said to me). For me that is also the same as saying to me “why don’t you just forget them?” Sounds pretty dumb huh? But it doesn’t work like that. Ignoring pain doesn’t make it go away. It gives it power and strength. Acknowledging them, celebrating them, speaking of them – that’s where the healing begins. It’s allowing yourself to remember they loved you and you loved them.

This last anniversary of Fred and I’s wasn’t special in terms of a big number or any particular significance . He’s been gone almost six years and we would have been married for sixteen. But this year was the tidal wave. Not a bad one mind you – God brought some pretty awesome memories to the day – but a tidal wave nonetheless. It’s hard to miss someone. It’s harder still when life is moving on and you are really happy.

I heard a sermon today that the message was “I’m not done with you yet, there is more to the story”. Move forward, you aren’t finished yet. Those words lifted my heart in ways I can’t yet explain to you. But what an awesome message.

I couldn’t have said this a few years ago but what if all those tears on the calendar are just part of God’s story for me? For my kids? I’ve seen those tears shape all of us in ways I know we wouldn’t have changed on our own. If we think about our pain having a purpose does it make it easier to bear?

I’ll never stop acknowledging those special days. I know there will be additions to the calendar as I age and those that are older still leave me too. But maybe I’ve reached a point I can understand that sometimes we need the tears each year to continue to wash what hurts and clear the path of where we’re meant to go.

Blessings y’all – Amy

Another Year Has Come and Gone…

Another year has gone by…on Friday I’ll be another year older. Wiser? Eh, in ways… The changes in my life between July 1st 2021 and now are too many to list. A year ago today I was in Memphis with Bev. Exploring Graceland for the first time. Learning about Elvis and not having any idea I was interested…left with a hunger to return. Even then not seeing the running I was doing to avoid the work I needed to be doing. Healing from the inside out – looking hard at where you are broken – is time consuming and challenging. But worth EVERY minute of the work. Life is so much bigger when you can look beyond yourself…

Sometime in the last year I found a peace inside that you can’t understand until you find it. Not a mediating yoga statue kind of peace but an I’m ok, life is ok, and everything is gonna work out kind of peace. Is everything in my world perfect? Nope. I miss my son. Always will but am proud as hell he’s living his journey his way. I didn’t learn to do that until 40+ years old. Has life moved on past a point I couldn’t see a year ago? Yep. A year ago I didn’t know who I was outside of Lee & Em’s mom and Fred’s widow. I didn’t have a real relationship with my oldest kiddo. I lived to work before and now I work to live. Sad, really, as I think about it now but I had absolutely no idea who the hell I was. My life revolved around other people. My existence was to serve others. I was used to being the nucleus of other’s worlds. When those roles didn’t exist anymore – not in a full time need to be fulfilled way – what the heck?

What I found, through counseling and prayer, was someone inside that I kind of dig. I found my girls. I found the parts of me I can see in them that I was missing before. I have some cool as hell daughters y’all! I found sunshine again. I found someone to love me who I love deeply. I found a heart that wasn’t broken beyond repair – it just needed some work. I found a heart that can love deeper when it’s healthy than it ever could when it was scarred and traumatized.

But more than all of that I found a voice. I found the wild child inside that wants to drive a Jeep and have crazy adventures and be unapologetic about it. The woman inside who was too afraid people wouldn’t like her if they saw THAT woman. That woman lives forefront now. You may not like all of my decisions but I live by what I believe is right and by what I, me, myself and no one else has to live with. What I think matters. What I have to say may piss you off but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t count. I could light a fire under a lot of people with issues I’ve found I am deeply passionate about.

But back to Friday. Birthdays wig me out. There is some trauma that is still there from childhood (my parents sucked!). But already the love and thoughtfulness Tim and the girls have shown has made this year different. It stinks Tim and I will be apart on our birthday (did I mention we share a birthday?!?)…but it’s been a special day already. I’ve got a big week planned with people I love dearly and that, my friends, is what life is all about.

Live LOUD peeps. Life is too short to do anything but!

Blessings y’all – Amy

Drowning in Memories

I have come to the conclusion that the dark side of this second season is that as we age the losses come with more frequency. When we find our footing after torrential grief the button gets pushed again. And again.

My grandmother is making her way home to heaven. Towards the man she was married to and loved for over half a century. To a place she believes in with every fiber of her being. She’s given us several close calls this last year but the hospice staff tells us we won’t be granted a reprieve this time. Though I think Em and I will hold out hope until that final call comes.

My brain has become a time machine of memories. My grandma, I call her Mom, was a huge part of my childhood. My 17 year old mother had no idea what to do with a newborn born with a birth defect in need of constant medical attention. I was raised in my grandparents home during my formative years thus learning to call my grandma “Mom” from hearing my mother do so.

I have years of memories of being sent to stay with my grandmother when I was sick. When I was recovering from any one of the 50 surgeries I had before my 18th birthday. When I needed to be taken to endless doctor appointments. It was always Mom that I remember taking me. I am sure my mother was there somewhere but it’s Taco Bueno and Bennigan’s lunch dates with Mom that I remember across the street from Memorial City hospital. It’s ENDLESS pots of our families “slumghetti” recipe she would make when I was sick. (She swore after the third pot when Em was born she would never make it again. She did – she just didn’t eat it after that!) Recipes that can’t be recreated because they are missing the touch of love I’m sure she put in them.

I spent most of yesterday trying to remember the last time she made me any “slumghetti”. I can’t. I didn’t know it would be the last time. When we broke down her house last year the memories were packed away in boxes. Boxes I find myself wanting to open and just rewind time.

Mom and I’s relationship changed after PawPaw died. She swore it was because we loved him best. She just didn’t know how hard it was to be around her without him and with the knowledge that she too would leave me. First PawPaw, then Fred three years later, now her five years after that. I look around at people that I love dearly who aren’t getting any younger and I know this is one part of life I’m going to have to get a little stronger at. Does one ever really get good at saying goodbye?

This picture is one of my favorite of Mom. That joy? She always had it when Em was around. I have siblings that would tell you she had it with me too, and I’m sure she did, but our bond was forged deep on the years she was there for me when people who should have been weren’t. With Em? She got to just do the joy. She knew I had Em in all the ways my mother let me down so she just got to love her the way a grandmother should. Even if she was her great grandmother. So precious for those two to have 20 years…how many great grandmothers get that? I know Em is drowning in more memories than I am but I also know there is a part of her that will be glad when Mom gets the one thing she has wanted for eight long years. To be with PawPaw again.

You have heard this from me more than once. You’ll probably always hear it from me. Life is short. Precious. Getting more so by the day. Hold those you love close. Appreciate those who are there for you because they want to be not because they have to be. Love HARD. It’s the only way to survive this life.

Blessings y’all – Amy

Over A Cliff

It’s no secret I’ve been in deep period of pain and self discovery the last couple of years. Long overdue grieving for the loss of my grandpa and my husband. Staring down the question of “who am I” when not defined by titles like mother or wife. I am damn proud of how far I’ve come. I haven’t done it alone and I know that. This very outlet had been part of the journey.

Lately I’ve been restless. Feeling disconnected from my faith. Questioning the growth. Losing my identity as an independent a bit as I’ve become part of an “us” again (def no regrets there!). I’ve recently begun listening to an audio book that has provoked some deep thinking.

I had an opportunity this weekend to share some of the feelings bubbling up with someone I trust implicitly with my thoughts. Between those conversations, my book, and what I believe is answered prayer I finally think I’m understanding where the restless is coming from.

I’ve reached a point in self discovery I could choose to be satisfied. OR this cliff I am standing on….the one that I can’t see ground below because it’s dark…I could choose to go over it and dig deeper. To return to the faith the distractions of life are pulling me from and hear what God was guiding me towards. I’ve done a lot of work. But I’ve also just stuck some of the feelings that are too painful in a box and put them on a shelf – compartmentalizing as the counselor calls it – and hoping to forget about them.

I kid you not….as I am writing this my bible app sent me this verse. Does it get any clearer than that?

It’s time to go over the cliff. To truly forgive those who have caused me pain and to forgive myself when I haven’t been the person I wanted to be. Yesterday is past and can only continue to hurt you if you can’t let go of it. It’s time to open the box, sort the feelings, and finish the journey. It’s time to love myself enough to finish the healing.

For those who have held my hand this far – I love you. I wouldn’t be on this planet today without you.

Choose you. Choose to believe that if you go over the cliff God will catch you.

Blessings y’all – Amy

All or Nothing

My counselor says that I am bad at seeing life as all or nothing. At LIVING life as all or nothing. Examples. Life is all good or it’s in shambles. I have to be perfect at my diet, exercise, work, etc or I am a failure. I have to be the best at how I do everything or I am letting down those closest to me. I have to love the best and do everything for everyone no matter what the effect on me.

Two years of counseling later and I still struggle with it. But have learned the signs of the rabbit hole enough to *sometimes* prevent myself from falling down it. Or at least enough to prevent myself from exhausting myself trying to be everything to everyone and putting my own needs last.

Here’s is the thing about all or nothing. That’s the same as black or white. But! Life is shades of gray. It’s messy and smudgy and requires a tree to bend in the wind lest it break.

It’s being patient when you’ve dieted good all week but eat a plate of Mexican food on Friday night. Diet isn’t over – you just had a treat. It’s getting back on the exercise plan after a week of coming straight home from work and watching TV and having popcorn for dinner because work is insane. It’s forgiving those closest to you for being inconsiderate and hateful instead of compassionate and kind. It’s giving someone the benefit of the doubt who you have only seen at their worst.

Living at extremes isn’t a healthy place for me. Living day in and day out terrified of my world changing caused me to hold on too tight. Finding balance, finding the gray, is still a daily challenge. Keeping a brain that is used to handling the worst life has to offer from going first to the dark place and never thinking of a positive alternative is hard as hell.

But learning that you are never too old to change? Definitely worth it.

“Great things happen to those who don’t stop believing, trying, learning, and being grateful.”

Never stop learning y’all. Never stop believing in yourself. In humanity. In the power to change yourself and that better things are on the horizon.

Blessings y’all – Amy

The Good Ones

Gabby Barrett has a song that the melody has been playing over and over in my head the last few days…the lyrics speaking truth over a blessing God put in my life I wasn’t expecting and certainly didn’t feel I would be blessed with.

“A love me like he should one
Like he wrote the book one
The kind you find when you don’t even look one
Anybody can be good once
But he’s good all the time
He’s one of the good ones
And he’s all mine
He’s one of the good ones”

I haven’t been shy about sharing the painful journey my life has been the last few years. I don’t plan on being shy about the amazing way that with a prayer, a lot of work, and faith God turned my world right side up again.

Fred made me promise I would find love again. I told him we only get one love in life and I had had mine. That I would never open myself up again to that kind of vulnerability or pain. My pastors sermon this last week was on what God does with “never”. I’ve said never about a lot of things in my life…😳

Two months ago a man who has a passion for travel that I do, who is as much a dog lover as I am, who shares love of dark chocolate, the ocean, and has a heart the size of Texas chose me. Me!

The days since then have flown by. We’ve got a bucket list that just keeps growing. The smile on my face when he walks into a room could supply electricity to most of the eastern seaboard. My brain is having a little trouble with the switch from survivor to thriving but he (and my tribe!) supports me through all that.

He is patient when I am down. He is thoughtful and kind. He never shies away when I mention Fred and understands how that chapter of my life shaped who I am today. He makes my detail oriented self look disorganized because he is always on top of things. But most importantly ours is a partnership. We work to share the load of whatever is going on – fun or mess – together.

Guess you can tell I think he’s kind of awesome. I’ve been blessed. If you are still single, have faith. There are still good ones. If you snagged one – hug ‘em tight. Life is short and precious. ❤️

Blessings y’all – Amy