journey – Page 2

Put Your Life In Boxes

Wanna know where you fall in the pack rat/hoarder scale in life? Pack your house. Clean out every nook. Every cranny. Attic. Shed. Garage. Put it in boxes. You’ll find that “I should hang onto this for _____” thing that we all do? Goes away real fast. Pretty sure my trash man hates me. Also pretty sure my kids are tired of the text “do you want this”. I’ve lost count of the number of trash bags, boxes, rolls of tape, markers, lists, copies of floor plans, ideas, room shuffles, crying sessions, sleepless nights, etc etc etc. Moving ain’t for the faint of heart.

But on the flip side? When you get just about to the finish line. When your list of things to go through shrinks down to just a couple of things left the sense of peace that starts to come allows air in places inside you that haven’t seen light in a long time. Yesterday we finally got the attic emptied. I slept seven hours in a row last night. Seven hard almost dreamless hours. The two are definitely connected. From the attic I opened boxes with memories that made me smile, some that made me want to weep, and some that just reminded me of treasured times in my life. Pulled out items that made my daughter laugh and some that reminded me of just how small she used to be.

What they don’t tell us when we are in our 20’s and 30’s is that there will come a time in our life when the kids will move on and all we will have left of them is those tiny shirts and treasured pictures. For the generations coming behind us less and less of those printed pictures because so much is digital (which after cleaning out an attic recently might not be entirely a bad thing). My counselor tells me all the time the memories aren’t in the “stuff” but man there were memories that came to the surface last night that I couldn’t have willingly recalled without sticking my nose in a shirt collar or thumbing through an album. There has to be a balance somewhere between having hundreds of boxes and expecting our tired aging brains to recall it all. Don’t you think?

Early in Tim and I’s relationship we just sort of accepted that we wouldn’t move for at least a decade. I remember phrases like “too much work with 6 dogs” and “too many people need us here”. We laid there last night and talked about where we are in this journey. The excitement we both feel each time we walk in the new house. The very foreign concept for me of doing this thing that is for us first and everyone else second. The fact that I haven’t lived outside of Irving in over 20 years. The negative emotions have been forefront for several weeks keeping me from really enjoying this process. When I say I married the greatest man ever I ain’t joking. The way he has put up with the roller coaster I have been on and still just loved me through it? No words. If anything we’ve grown stronger in who we are together. Pretty heady stuff.

I realize now that while I thought Turtle Summit was the peak of my mountain (and why I named it Summit) it was only the mid-line. God never intends us to stop growing. We’re almost through the hardest part of the work and I’m freaking excited. I’ve got a blank slate of a house to make my own. My dogs will have a yard they can run and play in. I’ll be part of watching a neighborhood fill in around me. I’ll be pushed outside of my box and my routine and have to learn new things. I won’t be able to run on autopilot for the last half of my life. I’m just not done living. Why I thought I was I have no idea.

So pack your life up. Even if it’s one closet at a time. Purge. Organize. There is an intangible that comes with that that kick-starts your soul and reminds you there is more to life than the day to day of surviving. God intends us to do more than just survive. I just need to have that tattooed on my damn forehead some days apparently.

Blessings ya’ll – 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

Real Effects of Stress

Ever had your mind spin so much when you lay down at night that, despite complete exhaustion, sleep eludes you? How about a jaw ache from clenching your teeth subconsciously for days on end? Dry skin, thyroid completely blown out of whack, digestion a joke, tension headaches, and a masseuse unable to relax the knots in your neck, lower back, and calves? How about massive weight gain despite very little of what you eat sticking with you? Tears that flow without warning and the inability to make decisions that previously you wouldn’t have even had to think about?

I wouldn’t say I am under much more stress than I ever have been in various times in my career but something about getting older (or maybe living with someone who points out what’s broken) is giving me fits. When I started to resent the effort it took to prepare to travel and recover from travel we knew we had an issue to address. We’ve been meeting with different doctors now for a few weeks and have some plans in place but at the moment my body is still being uncooperative.

For the first time in a long time this last week I napped. More than once. I had a couple of nights where I actually achieved 6-7 hours of sleep (my average is 3-5). My jaw stopped aching and I was able to say “I want to do that” not “we can do whatever you/they want”. As we got closer to returning to land the restless broken sleep returned and the jaw ache returned. So my options are to move out onto a body of water (!) or figure out how to better process and handle stress.

Seeing a break in the physical symptoms of stress has made them so much larger than they have been in the past to me. As a survivor, both from a birth defect that left me in and out of hospitals my entire life, to an abusive childhood, to being a widow at a too young age I barely recognize anymore what my brain does to be body. It’s just part of life.

Apparently…that is wrong thinking. I have four great doctors in my corner now that are determined we will turn this ship around. Tests show I have Hashimoto’s and my thyroid is not getting enough medicine (which makes sense when you have a stomachache 5 mornings out of 7). Armed with a supportive husband wiling to try anything – including sleeping with music on and a diffuser going – to help me sleep we’re working on sleep hygiene. TV being off and phones put down a few hours before bed. Taking a sleep apnea test next week to make sure I’m getting enough air. And as much as I love reading I have to switch to a) doing it with a real book not a screen at night and b) not doing it while I eat.

We are going to have to do an elimination diet to figure out what else besides gluten has my stomach so PO’d since the gastro dr ruled out anything other than what we already know I have. That will be harder on my husband than me because it involves lot more restrictions than he already endures with his diabetes. Did I mention he hates veggies? Together we’ve decided to focus on sleep first then add this next layer.

Both Tim and I have adapted the “whatever it takes” mentality. We are less than a decade from retirement (we hope) and for me to enjoy the post working years I have to be healthy. I have to learn to prioritize a work life balance. To take ten minutes in the morning to wash my face or pack a healthy meal for lunch. To take moments during the day to practice the meditation exercises both the doctor and my counselor have given me. To silence the constant barrage in my head of did I do enough, work hard enough, or am I enough? To find the ability to say “NO”.

I suspect it also means a ramp up on my writing as I find it very therapeutic. But I am going to maintain my “when I feel called to write” mentality instead of my “have to” list. I have been promised that with sleep will come energy and mental clarity. With energy will come exercise and enthusiasm for my garden, my home, and my cooking again.

If you have any yoga or meditations apps/programs you recommend send them my way. And all the prayers you can spare.

Blessings y’all – Amy

Balance or Boundaries?

This is a topic we have been exploring in counseling the last couple of visits and one I’ve taken my time with my thoughts before putting it here. Anyone who knows me I struggle with giving anything less than 1000% to everything – almost always at my own detriment. Work is a perfect example. When the counselor found out that I come home, after working all day, and the first thing I do is check my work email when I walk in the door it was a red flag. Same with being tied to the phone over the weekend and when on vacation. I have an unhealthy obsession with email. There. I said it. And coming to terms with that has taken more work than I ever thought it could.

“You can’t have balance without boundaries but you can have boundaries and still be out of balance.”

Let that just sit there for a minute and marinate. What is balance in today’s world? Where is the line between a healthy balance and the attitude of “not my job”? I’m old school – the “40 hours and that’s it” or “not my job” attitude that is so prevalent in most work places makes me slightly insane. Yet – do those people have it right as far as having a healthy work life balance? Is it either black and white or is there a lot of gray somewhere between?

I’ve recently changed my work schedule to allow Tim and I an extra 45 minutes before the alarm goes off. I’ve been at it for three weeks and it still feels like I’m doing something wrong. Like that 45 minutes is shorting work somewhere along the way. And being honest I’ve already slipped into not being as diligent with my end of day out time. But that guilt is still present.

Jumping off of work for a second – what about in relationships? Extracurricular activities? It’s interesting looking back on the kids’ childhood in that light. It came very easily to Fred and I to put boundaries on family time and not fall into the club sports/insane schedule lifestyle that rules so many families today. We felt strongly that (while there are a few exceptions) statistically the chance of a child’s’ post childhood success with any sport or extracurricular was slim while the investment in time with them as a family would have lifelong benefits. Why did that boundary come so easily and without a second thought but all other boundaries I feel like I’m letting someone (everyone) down? Relationship boundaries are very hard for me. Tim comments all the time on those that I keep close despite that offline that make me more than a little nutty – he doesn’t understand it. For him it’s black and white – if you are doing things that make him unhappy/hurt him you aren’t part of his world. I’ve learned a tremendous amount from my mother in law about navigating the world of adult children and their lives and invisible boundaries adult kids put down.

All this to say – where do you have balance in your life and is that because of conscious boundaries you’ve put into place? Where could you use more boundaries to achieve balance? Honestly want to hear thoughts!

Blessings y’all – Amy

Focus on the Fruit

It’s no struggle to those in my inner circle that life is pretty much kicking my behind right now. Work is the toughest it’s been in my 12 years of working there. I leave frustrated, angry, and exhausted more days than not. Sleep is elusive (it’s 3 am right now) and there is something going on with my health that they haven’t quite figured out yet. If it wasn’t for Tim, my kids, my dogs, and my friends I’m not sure I’d be sane. Tim is quite literally my refuge each and every day – Tuesday I got out of the truck and walked straight into his arms crying. Those kinds of days can wear you down like nothing else.

Every now and then I get an urge to turn on a sermon and it gets stronger until I listen to it. Tuesday night there was no ignoring it. I don’t search for a specific one – I cue up the church I follow and hit play on whatever shows up first. As always, it was a message that I guess God knew I needed. It’s happened before but it never fails to amaze me.

The sermon was entitled “Don’t Tap Out, Tap In”. I’ve listened to it twice and have gotten something different out of it each time. The main thing being that in wrestling “tapping out” means “ok, I’ve had enough, let me up”. In life, as it wears us down we are inclined to tap out. Throw up our hands and say “I’ve had enough of _______(insert an area of life that is wearing you down)”. Being honest – that has been on my mind a lot lately in regards to work. Have I had enough? Is the stress on my body slowly killing me and taking me too early from my family? Am I happy? Am I fulfilled? Am I letting it take too much of my spirit?

Heavy questions. The pastor goes on to say that in life we have four things….fight, fire, a fence, and the future. The Devil is a quiet serpent that sneaks into those areas and moves us away from God and away from the life He has planned for us.

I live my life in a fight. Fighting to be good enough, fighting to do everything for everyone, fighting to protect my bosses bottom line due to a loyalty that runs deep, fighting to keep wayward employees on path and in processes that have been proven to work, fighting to not disappoint anyone….the list is long. That fight, and the anger it produces, keeps me from focusing on the fruit in my life. God knows how much more fruit I have in my life right now that I have had in years. I have a man that loves me, I have a home I love, I have children who are grown and make me proud every day, I have a new family that supports me in every way, and I have the ability to travel and to see the world…THAT list is long too.

But most days? What I talk about, what consumes me, is the fight. How I didn’t get enough done. How I failed to enforce processes that protect the company. How someone else’s mediocrity created more work for me and drove me crazy in the process. What I hear in my head over and over is I didn’t fight hard enough and thus I failed. I think the reason this sermon pulled me up so short is finally realizing that. Why am I allowing anything to steal my joy? Even a job I’d tell you on my worst days that I still love.

Enter the fence we all have. Otherwise known as boundaries depending on who is speaking. What I have to do now that I have had this realization is erect a fence. A TALL electric and barbed wire lined fence. Turn my eyes to the future and what I want from it and use that to put bull dogs along the fence and end the fight.

Here’s the hard part. Can I do that? Can I change course on 45 years of being a people pleasing perfectionist? I can’t help but think if God wanted me to receive this message and have these realizations that there is hope that I can. I know it’ll take a lot of work. It will take mentally slapping myself over and over again until I get it. It will take probably disappointing people who count on me but hoping they understand in the long run I’m better healthy than I ever could be as I am now. It’ll take prayer and a lot of faith in God’s plans for me.

If you know me, if you are close to me, don’t hesitate to tell me when the fight consumes me that I need to focus on my fruit. Kick my butt if you have to. It’ll take my village to change these habits but I need to change them. I can’t keep on as I am. Humans need sleep and food to be healthy and happy.

Blessings y’all – Amy

What’s In A Name?

When Tim and I got engaged one of the first questions I was asked over and over was if I was going to change my name. My immediate answer was “yes”. I’m an old school southern girl….why was that a question? I was a little stumped but too busy to analyze. I couldn’t do anything about it anyway until after my Thanksgiving trip so I shelved it though it never left my tumultuous overthinking brain.

Lanford has been my identity for more of my adult life than not. It’s the name my kids have (by birth or by a Fred declaration). It represents my years as a young woman learning to be a wife and a mom. It represents a chapter that I may have turned the page but it as much a part of who I am as green eyes or brown hair. There are so many reasons I love Tim but perhaps the most special reason is the room he makes in our life for my kids and Fred. His point of view is he knows he wouldn’t have me if the kids and I hadn’t lost Fred so he respects and makes space of that part of our life. He spends time with the kids and participates in traditions that pre-date him by a decade. I’m telling you I don’t deserve this man…

As Bev and I prepared for this years Turkey trip I started pulling together a list of what was involved in becoming Mrs. Davis. Holy cow Batman. Passport. Global Entry. Social Security. Drivers License. Credit cards, bank accounts, investment accounts, utilities, mortgages, etc etc etc. The list is freaking endless. Turns out it is a hell of a lot harder to change your name as a 40 something established woman than a girl in her 20’s starting her life.

The task is paralyzing. Suddenly I understood why woman far wiser than I am had asked the question to begin with. Add to that that it makes absolutely no difference to Tim if I change it or not (he says he’s got the girl and that’s what matters) and I began to question my sanity at embarking down this road. I had a lot of time to think this week. To seek counsel from Tim’s mom and Bev. To really try and wrap my mind and heart around what to do.

I’ve been wrestling with what I was taught and all these other factors. There is a part of me that can freely admit I am overwhelmed at the task with all the other things going on at work and know it’ll just be “easier’ to keep Lanford. There is a place in my heart that doesn’t want to give up Lanford because it’s my connection to my kids and niece (yes I know they will still love me as Davis.) I can’t talk about that connection to the kids without crying. I can’t find peace in my heart with either decision. Turns out there is a quite a lot to a name.

My sweet husband did the research and there is no time limit on changing it. I can sit with it until I’m sure either way or until life slows down. For now, I’ll continue to pray, seek counsel, and wait on peace to come either way. I trust that God knows who I am regardless of my name and will give me clarity when it’s time.

Blessings y’all – Amy

From Ms. to Mrs.

Not sure if I have ever shared this but I don’t write (on here) until the words come. It usually starts as sort of an idea bouncing around – whether that’s in the form of a title or a random thought – and when it becomes really persistent then I know it’s time to write. Blogging started as my therapy (thanks Bev) and continues to be that but also is just an outlet for something I’ve always loved doing – writing. I was telling someone Saturday that my creativity has changed over the years and I have learned to trust the process. I’ve quilted, scrapbooked, crafted, cooked, gardened, decorated, and written my way through my adult life. When one method dries up another reveals itself.

I digress. It’s Wedding Week. All things of the last eight weeks have been building up to this week. All of the stress, fear, anxiety, happiness, elation…and about a thousand other emotions have been snowballing into this week. On Saturday I go back to being a Mrs. again.

On some levels I feel like I have barely begun to adapt to being Ms. despite that having been the case for the last six years. I’m open enough to tell ya that I SWORE for years both before and after Fred died that I would never be crazy enough to fall in love again. (We won’t talk about how many people bet against me on that one!) I’d have rather been alone than risk the pain of losing another man who held my heart in his hands. You know what they say about making plans….God laughs and says “watch this”.

What He sent me was a man that I frequently find myself thinking of the old comics I used to read with my grandpa. The little girl and boy with the caption “Love is..”. Tim walks me to my truck every morning and then stands at the gate and waits until he is sure I’ve safely made it down the drive before he goes inside…love is that. Tim gathers me in his arms when I’ve had a horrible day and I come home mad, sad, exhausted, or some lousy combination of all three…love is that. He lets my dog sleep under my pillow even though he frequently gets kicked in the night when she dreams but he knows I can’t sleep without her…love is that. He holds me when I’m crying about how scared I am in all of this change…love is that. He busts his butt every day watching what he eats and getting on the exercise bike when I know he is tired so I won’t worry about the future….love is that. He tells me he can’t see any of the weight I know I’ve gained…love is that. You get the idea?

Tim and I have been through so much in the last 20 months – a lifetime of events (it feels like sometimes) and each time we are stronger and fall deeper in love. When I really think about what is changing for me right now my brain gives me some combination of terror and elation. Can I do this again? Be a Mrs.? Be the best Mrs. like he deserves?

HELL YES I CAN! This man walked through all of his fears and demons to get to this place and I’ll do nothing less but meet him in that place. Love is THAT. Love is also this army of friends and family who have helped, listened, cheered us on, and been there for us. Who are excited to see the transition from Ms. to Mrs. this weekend and celebrate the love that God blessed us both with.

Blessings y’all – Amy

1 Corinthians 13:4-7 – ⁴Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. ⁵It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. ⁶Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. ⁷It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love is soooo all of that….

Things Change…

26 minutes into a sermon that if God could have physically pushed me to listen to He would have…that was the name of that section of the chapter. Things Change.

If you are looking into my life right now from the outside, it wouldn’t take you a hot second to figure out there is a lot changing in my world. That “Change” could be the name for the summer of 2023. (Summer is ALWAYS when my life has major changes.) When Tim and I take a second to analyze this summer we talk about the good and bad changes. Obvs is that the good change of getting married. Officially joining our two families and our Brady Bunch of dogs. Less good would be his hospital stay, the permanent arrival of diabetes in our life, and the loss of Grammie.

Deeper than that is the whirlwind my head is doing at the transition between what my life was and what it will be. They don’t give you a manual in life for navigating grief, losing your in law family (for the most part) in the process, falling in love again, and entering into a new family. You can fall head over heels madly in love with someone…and still have days you miss all that you knew before. And you KNOW you won the lottery of guys – when you can tell him that and he understands that. Not only understands it….but isn’t threatened by it. In addition, Tim’s friends and family has been amaze balls at welcoming me. It’s easy to see where he gets his generous spirit.

The last few weeks have been littered with tears, panic attacks, and anxiety. I’ve had trouble placing my finger completely on why until my sweet niece nailed it on the head (again) as she is so prone to doing. It’s grief. Again. My boss doubled down on that and said “yep that makes sense, you did this when you and Tim started dating and you realized he was important.” It’s slightly amusing how often I forget I’m surrounded by people who know me better than I know myself. With all changes comes moving forward and farther away from what I’ve known.

I read something in the new anxiety journal I started this week that said anxiety sufferers literally live in flight or fight mode all the time bracing for doom. It’s an involuntary psychological reflex. My summer hasn’t helped that I’m sure. One of the reasons I picked up the journal though is I am hyper aware that this is a season in my life that I should be able to finally let my guard down and have joy and I’m missing it. I am literally missing it in this state I’ve been in. Insomnia is my friend, eating is an erratic activity of either little to none or way too much, and tears are always on the surface. It’s bonkers. (Side note though – I’m also going through tremendous changes at work and that’s not helping!)

But while I am a long way from being able to deal with it as I get older I am coming to understand that the constant in this life is…change. I’ve come leaps and bounds in the last few years in how I deal with things and while I don’t enjoy the tears and panic attacks those are healthier (knowing what they are and how to deal with them) than the ways I have in the past.

Today I will be surrounded by seven women who have impacted my life in one way or another and we will celebrate this season of change. Because four weeks from today I marry a man who has changed me more than I thought was possible a few years ago.

Dang “C” word. It can be a good word too.

Blessings y’all – Amy

12 Years Later….

I’m very nostalgic these days, and I know that’s normal with all the change that is going on in my life, but today’s trip down memory lane is triggered by the calendar. 12 years ago today I started at TLC. When I texted my bosses this weekend to share my engagement news all I could think was how many life events I’ve walked through while seeking refuge inside these four walls. How the person that they see day in and day out has changed in the last twelve years. Hell, I don’t even have a picture of myself on my phone that goes back that far….

Twelve years ago Fred and I walked through these doors together. I had been interviewing to make a change from the small struggling landscape company I was working for because I was tired of chasing payroll each week. One of the interviews I had gone on was good friends with our owner here. I got a call and being the “we’re a package deal” person I was I asked if they needed a garden manager too. Turns out they did. When we started in July 2011 TLC was operating out of a house with several buildings attached and a huge yard. I fell in love with the yard dog named Tigre and discovered I was very much a dog person (sorry kitties!). Now I have six dogs!

It would be not long after that that Lee moved in with us and we were bursting at the seams in the townhouse. October 2012 TLC moved into the office where we are now – the same weekend we moved into our first house! Where I promptly came down with bronchitis from the stress and an untreated sinus infection.

We lost PawPaw in May of 2014. TLC never missed a beat in their unwavering support. It was the first really significant loss for me in my life and while I stuffed it (or thought I did) I know now it changed me. It changed how I interacted with my family so I know it changed how I dealt with everyone. Sometime in that same year we started dialysis on Fred. Not gonna lie I was in so much pain the dates get really fuzzy. TLC was completely supportive of my completely unstable schedule and I worked from the dialysis clinic, early mornings, weekends, late nights – work was my escape when I could get it from everything as I knew it changing at home.

February-ish 2015 Fred became unable to keep working. He wasn’t safe behind the wheel and his eyes were shot. Yet again TLC was the one constant. I was the provider of the house and work was my safe place. Through dialysis, Fred’s amputation and rehab, all of it – all I got was support from almost everyone.

I’ll never forget the call I got from the owner the day I had to say guys it’s almost time for Fred to go and I need to be here. “Whatever you need – we’re here”. So much is fuzzy from that time and the years after. But I remember that. Work had been my escape but I was able to turn it off and be right where I needed to be at the end. That’s something there aren’t enough words to be thankful for.

Somewhere in all those years we got three kids through high school, graduated, and two of them through college/trade school, and married off!

COVID years, the bottoming out I did in 2020 where most people don’t know just how low I got, and the recovery period of the last few years….still they were here. Even the days I said “I don’t wanna do this anymore…” my boss walked me through it when I know he really probably just wanted to strangle me. He had no experience with depression, and anxiety, and all the things that plague me but steady as a rock he’s been.

Sometimes we have to look back to be able to know how far we’ve come and see all the lows and highs to appreciate it. To know that it’s normal to have days you want to run away from home because home will always be there. It’s a constant. It’s where your heart is – when it’s hurting, when it’s broken, and when it’s so filled with joy you are going to burst.

12 years later I’m thankful that no matter how far my wanderlust takes me I’ll always have a home to return to.

Blessings y’all – Amy