Category: life

the heart hunt: part 3

One morning on my way to work a few months back, the song “I’m Already There” by Lonestar came on the radio and took my breath away just a little bit. I was coming around the corner to the building, then I parked and sat in the dark while listening to the rest of the words.

“I’m already there
Take a look around
I’m the sunshine in your hair
I’m the shadow on the ground
I’m the whisper in the wind
And I’ll be there until the end
Can you feel the love that we share
Oh I’m already there”

Of course the song hit me as it never had before since it’s about a man missing his family and the ways he shows them he’s never completely gone. The words are perfect for me and tell the story I am living. In the first few months after my dad died, I would get to work before sunrise and was lucky enough to have a few minutes some days to walk up to the roof and look out on the soft pink and smokey blue clouds at dawn. One morning I saw birds flying among them and it felt like it was on purpose – like my dad sent them for me. I’m so thankful for the moments I feel like I’m being looked after, and for those minutes when it feels like heaven is really just barely beyond what I can see.

You know how I’ve been looking for hearts? I see them everywhere now. Yesterday I was on a hike and saw more than I can count, and brought three heart rocks home. Today that Lonestar song crossed my mind again and I thought about how whenever I see a heart, it’s like my dad is saying “I’m already there. Take a look around.”

I also see that this sentiment has reached so many of you, too. I can’t believe how you’re looking out for me. In the last month since I wrote about this heart hunt, I’ve received hearts from places as far away as Hawaii, Florida and even Japan! There have been so many I can hardly believe it. Thank you so much! The last five months or so have been the hardest of my life, but these little surprises that show up in my text and Facebook inboxes make me happy every time. I’m going to attempt to post them all here, and I apologize if I forgot any. Just know every single one has been a bright spot in my day, my week, my life – and your friendship and love means a million times more.

I’ve decided to make a public Instagram page, @huntingforhearts, where I can post hearts as I find them and as they are sent to me. The page will be for my dad and I hope it will showcase love in many unexpected ways near and far. I invite you to join in and/or follow along! I think you might be surprised at how fun they are to discover. I love hearing about the stories and places where my friends and family members have found them.

There have been so many hearts found in the last month I was able to make six collages! They are labeled below left to right, top row to bottom row.

1. My cousin Amee in Arizona sent this photo after she and her kids found a heart-shaped Cadbury egg.
2. Unfortunately, I don’t remember who sent me this photo of beautiful bleeding hearts. I love these.
3. During her vacation in Hawaii, my friend Candace found this coral heart. I’d just read that day that heart rocks are often found at beaches because they are tossed and turned. I love the analogy that love can be carved from the rough waves in life.
4. While visiting my friend Brittny in Washington in May, she showed me this picture in her apartment which contained three hidden hearts (two are pictured here).
5. My junior high and high school band buddy Christiane saw this heart in her bathroom tile the day after she read my last post. She said she probably steps on it every day. Christiane lives in Utah and came to my dad’s viewing after I hadn’t seen her in years. We’re emailing now after she sent this heart. Some friends last for life, no matter the time or distance.
6. Our friends Emilie and Garrett came to visit me and Travis from Utah over Memorial Day weekend. We were standing in line at Chipotle when Emilie noticed she was wearing a heart shirt filled with names of strong women. Emilie is one of the strongest women I know.
7. My friend Devin in Washington sent this photo from Olympia after the trees at his apartment were trimmed. It’s a heart inside a heart, he said.
8. My elementary school friend Latasha sent this heart over Facebook. She said she glanced over at her Ten Commandments plaque and saw the reflection of a heart. She also said she was glad my dad could be in her life every day now. So sweet.

1. After a Florida storm, my cousin Genevieve sent me this heart over Instagram while on vacation. I love stormy skies.
2. My friend Holly, who has been my friend for almost 10 years now, sent this heart from Virginia the day after my last post.
3. My friend Latasha sent this heart from Utah of her fuzzy heart socks. She included the hashtag #huntingforhearts which I’m now using for my Instagram posts and page name.
4. My mother-in-law Irma said she thought of me when she saw this photo of New Caledonia, which is a French territory comprised of dozens of islands. Her text came from Arizona.
5. My mom’s sweet student in Utah made this. “More hearts makes more love.”
6. My sweet cousin Katie Rae almost walked right past this ladybug one day, then had a feeling she should go back. When she took a closer look, she found a heart right behind its head. Her dad died a year before mine and when she sent her text from Utah, she said she knows our dads are watching over us. I know it too.
7. My friend Kelly said this photo is admittedly mushy, but that she wanted to send it anyway. It’s from her honeymoon in Hawaii. I want to see that rock someday if that means I’m in Hawaii!
8. This photo was taken by me last weekend while walking around our neighborhood.
9. Brittny sent this photo of heart-shaped garlic she found while making dinner with Devin one night. She says garlic is heart healthy, you know.

1. I spotted this heart on a stoplight in Seattle while visiting Brittny. We walked everywhere that day and had the time of our lives doing all the touristy things.
2. My dear friend Miranda, who has the cutest boxer in the world, sent this picture from Utah of a heart spot on her dog. His fur just grows that way!
3. Memories of sleepovers at my friend Nikie’s pond in Idaho came back to me when she sent me this heart. I love that place and thinking of the rodeo before sleeping under all those stars.
4. The other day, my lifelong friend Mindy found this perfectly-shaped chicken nugget heart while making dinner with her kids.
5. My sweet sister-in-law Melissa was having a bad day and almost sent me a text to tell me she looks for hearts everywhere and never finds them. Then she looked up and found this on her wall – a heart my brother painted in their bathroom for her a couple Christmases ago.
6. This heart comes from a Scentsy light. My friend Jamie, who used to make me laugh every day at The Herald Journal in Utah, saw it on her wall and thought of me.
7. Melissa continued to see hearts after that day she thought she couldn’t see any. She and my mom found this one in my mom’s yard one day.
8. My mom eats kid food sometimes (she is a first grade teacher after all), and one day at lunch they served her this heart-shaped chicken patty.
9. A gum heart was found on the ground in Ohio and sent to me by my good friend Mandy.

1. During the Tulip Festival at Thanksgiving Point in Utah, my sister-in-law Jackie spotted this brick heart with my mom at The Secret Garden area.
2. One day while helping Travis in the backyard, I saw this heart rock. He turned around and wondered what in the world I was taking pictures of!
3. In Seattle, Brittny and I joined in on the Gum Wall madness and she made this cute pink heart.
4. While in Arizona for Mother’s Day, Travis, his parents and I were walking and I got so excited when I saw these cactus hearts. Pretty much anytime I see hearts I gasp and need to take pictures immediately. I’m sure sometimes this is annoying.
5. Floss fell on the ground and made this balloon-like heart. My sister-in-law Nikki sent this from Washington.
6. We went dancing for Brittny’s birthday and on the way home, I spotted this lovely piece of trash and a cigarette butt on the ground. I got really excited of course and made Brittny snap this photo. Devin was laughing at how non-glamorous this heart was. I have to admit, it was pretty funny … and I was tipsy which probably makes more sense, right?
7. Just the other day, my friend Nikie sent me a picture of her heart-shaped pizza lunch from work. Yum!
8. My friend Holly told her sweet little friend I like hearts and the girl insisted Holly take this photo and send it to me from Virginia.
9. My friend Mandy recently went to Japan on vacation with her husband and spotted this heart shape at a Buddhist temple. Wow … Japan! That was so kind of her to send it and knowing it was from a Buddhist temple, I thought Travis would love it, too.

These hearts were all captured by me on the La Luz Trail in Albuquerque, the beach in Ocean Shores, Washington, and the Albuquerque BioPark Zoo (the heart is on the giraffe’s neck).

These were also captured by me at Ocean Shores; at a coffee shop in Seattle (Brittny told the barista, “she likes hearts, so if you can do a heart, she’d like that”); the Petroglyph National Monument where I got more excited over hearts than the actual petryglpyhs; in Santa Fe right before a hike with Travis, Emilie and Garrett; in Olympia near the water in front of the Capitol Building; in the sky above the La Luz Trail (look for the bird in the clouds here, too); and at my best friend Jenn’s house on the day I met her baby.

Thanks again for making this hunt for hearts reach far beyond what I could have imagined. I will always, always, always be grateful for that.

beauty hearts life love

scars

Post author By Manette
Post date April 5, 2015
4 Comments on scars

Easter made its way into my heart this year. I’m someone who loves holidays and celebrating for any reason possible, so I have always enjoyed the egg hunts, the candy, and the annual festive dinner. This year, however, Easter meant something more to me because it promises the most beautiful thing we could ever receive – life after death and resurrection. Because of Jesus’ sacrifice and because he defeated death, we will, too. This means I’ll see my dad again and we’ll all be together.

Before my father died, I had other relatives move on from this life, but most of them were timely so the pain wasn’t so harsh. Easters came and went and although I thought of what it meant each year, it never sunk deep inside me. Sometimes your heart has to be ripped open in order to receive the most wisdom and joy.

When Jesus was nailed to the cross, he died with holes in his hands and three days later, he was able to show his scars so that believers would know it was him. The scars proved he lived, and they also proved he was healed.

Everyone will have wounds that will leave physical or emotional scars, but what’s amazing is those scars prove we live and survive. A friend who has almost too many scars to count due to multiple bouts of cancer and several surgeries talked to me about this recently and reminded me that scar tissue doesn’t grow on the dying – it grows on the living – and if we are ever left with a scar on our body or heart, it means we won a battle.

This friend knows what she’s talking about. She has scars on her neck, chest, back, abdomen and more. What amazes me is her positive outlook. She told me, “People think of scars as this horrible thing when really, the definition of a scar is the healing of a wound. So the scar is after the injury and it means you’re whole again. It’s a good thing. The scar is showing that whatever it was, whatever thing you went through, you made it. You survived. And I love that.”

I don’t have many physical scars, but one has been growing on my heart since my dad’s life ended unexpectedly one day. I can feel it, and I know that scar will be there forever. At some point, though, that will mean that I’m healed and even though I will never be the same, the scar on my heart will mean that I made it. I’m sure there is some way God knows all our scars both inside and out and he is proud of them because he knows we fought something hard.

There are people who fight and survive more difficult and tragic things than me. There are so many things I’ve read about that seem unimaginable to go through. I was taught to believe that Jesus knows every one of those struggles, that he died for those pains and he’s there to help ease the suffering. His scars are proof of what he went through, and he’ll be there as we get scars, too.

Today we spent the morning at the Botanic Garden where hearts seemed to be everywhere. Right after I told Travis and his dad to look for them, we found them in some bright red flowers, and then we found some more. Then as I was talking about my dad, two geese flew up from behind a tree, and later two more (or maybe they were the same pair) landed on the water in front of us in the Japanese Garden. My dad loved geese. It felt like he was with us today. And in that moment, maybe a little bit more scar tissue grew on my heart.

I hope you had a wonderful Easter. I hope you never feel alone. I hope whatever battle you’re going through leaves a scar that reminds you that you survived, too.

life

parting ways with news

On Friday, I turned in my badge and walked for the last time out of the news station I’ve been working at for nearly two years. I then made my way to my car and started driving when I noticed the station’s sign in the rearview mirror and got out to take one last picture. It was a cloudless, sunny day as I drove past the building, made two left turns, then a right and passed a line of downtown adobe homes with their white-blossom trees.

As I got closer to the southbound freeway entrance, I ended up behind one of the station’s live trucks. I have no idea where the driver was headed; I missed the conversation as I gathered the items from my desk, got an extra slice of “Best Wishes” cake to take home and told my boss and coworkers goodbye. It no longer mattered if I knew where that truck was going, though, at least job-wise. If it had been a breaking news situation and I was on the clock, I would have wanted to know where it was going and who was driving so I could anticipate photos coming to my email. I would have added them to the story or created a gallery. If it wasn’t a breaking news situation (which it wasn’t), I would have been anticipating a web story from the reporter within a couple hours. But soon after the truck and I entered the freeway, we would part ways. The station would keep on going, and I’d start moving for the first time since high school away from working in journalism.

It was a strange feeling leaving that day. I’d been anticipating it for a while and knew months ago the news business was no longer for me. While I know there will be some aspects I will miss, and I’ll always be thankful for my experiences and all the people I met, I need to do something that doesn’t leave me wishing more for the human race every day in a way that is almost painful sometimes. I went into journalism because I wanted to be a writer, I wanted to make a difference, and I wanted to tell the good stories. I learned early on that I most enjoyed writing feature stories and designing newspaper pages, but since moving to TV and becoming a web producer I have written, edited and published more sad, scary and tragic stories than I can count and my heart was beginning to crack.

On the way home on my last day, I listened to the song “Time” by the Mowgli’s which I heard for the first time earlier this week. It seemed to fit all the things I’ve been feeling the last months.

“I can’t stand working all day
work is wearing out my soul
I think I’ll go out tonight
and I will call in sick tomorrow
I get so down about this world sometimes
I cannot understand people, no not at all
But, I hope to see a change in man
I hope to see us love one another
And I know we can”

This song stood out to me immediately the first time I heard it because it’s positive and negative which is how I’ve been feeling for a while now. I felt like I haven’t been the best “me.” I can’t blame this on the things I read and covered in news, and I can’t blame it on my job. There are too many reasons that make people who they are and there are things I struggle with that have nothing to do with either of those things. I do know, though, that working in hard news versus the features section in a city with higher crime than where I used to live changed my perspective about countless things. It forced me to see suffering in ways I’d ignored before. In order to remain positive, I can’t take in as many terrible stories anymore because I don’t know what to do with them. I tend to harbor and stew over them in a way that is probably unhealthy.

Last weekend, I went to a Garth Brooks concert with a friend in Denver which was extraordinary. We had so much fun seeing and singing with this fabulous country legend that made songs like “The Thunder Rolls,” “The Dance,” and “Standing Outside the Fire” famous. Before he sang one of his newer songs, “People Loving People,” he told the audience that he often watches the news and has to turn it off because it makes him so mad. Then he sang that song which is all about making the world a better place in the most basic of ways – people loving people.

As I leave the news industry, I want to remember that people are good. I want to see us love one another and I know we can. Just last week my station covered a local teacher who made such a wonderful difference in her students’ lives that she was featured on Ellen. The whole thing was so touching I had to fight back the tears. People really are good.

I worked in news professionally for eight years, but if I counted all the years my name appeared in magazines, newspapers and websites, it would add up to about 14. I started writing for a local teen section of a newspaper in high school and wrote for my school’s paper my senior year. Then college began and I quickly joined the features staff and finished as features editor in 2007. From there I wrote for a magazine and newspapers for six years before transitioning into digital content management for a news station. I’m young, but news has been a big part of my life for half my life and there were many, many good stories. Here are a few examples:

• I one got to talk to two women who became friends after one agreed to be the other’s surrogate. It was this amazing story of families coming together to bless one another’s lives for no other reason than compassion.

• I met a woman whose house had burned down and was so inspired by how the community came together to help her family out. They donated clothes, toys and food for months so she and her family didn’t have to feel like they were left with nothing.

• A guide dog once led me around town with his owner so I could see and learn about how he was trained to keep her safe. Seeing teamwork between animals and humans is amazing.

• I sat in a local diner for more than an hour one day and talked with the manager who came from Afghanistan as a college student and worked his way up in the restaurant until he eventually bought it. It had survived for more than 25 years at that time and had become a really special place for some people. He would call the regulars when he knew they were sick and didn’t show up for a few days. He provided a free Thanksgiving dinner for the community every year. He reminded himself that everything in life is temporary so he always tried to remain thankful.

• I met a woman who started the first gay/straight alliance at the college I went to. Her story was not only incredible, but she helped so many students, faculty and families who didn’t have a place to turn to talk about these issues before.

• The woman who was in charge a 24-hour family crisis center told me about how sometimes she didn’t know how she’d get all the bills paid, but that miracles always seemed to happen to keep them afloat. At that time, the center been around for 25 years and every April, they decorated the yards of donors’ homes and businesses with pink flamingoes to remind the community to help end child abuse. Who doesn’t love pink flamingoes?

• Rape victims and their advocates spoke to me when I wanted to do a series on services available to them and the community. I consider everyone who is willing to speak out about this topic – especially the victims – brave beyond measure.

• A nonprofit director told me about how the organization teamed up with a nursery to offer low-income families year-round gardens to help them become a little more self-sufficient. The stories I was told from the families who benefitted were inspiring. Parents were teaching 2-year-olds how to garden and they were so happy with their work.

• I heard the long distance love story of a woman from Norway who fell in love with an American and they made it work and eventually were able to get married and live in the same place. Stories like this later helped me when I was in a long-distance relationship. It really can work, I promise!

• There were the fun and unusual stories. I got to visit graveyards, cabins, fraternities and an old mental health facility that were all known for their alleged hauntings. I got to see how local places made chocolate and ice cream (and the samples weren’t too shabby either). I got to hear the story of how a local coffee shop began and stayed around for decades using the best beans and machines.

The news business treated me well. We are a culture of people who love to hear stories, and for a while, I got to be one of the storytellers. I really learned so much in unexpected ways from unexpected sources. I learned that incredible things happen to ordinary people. I learned that we’re all in this – the good and the bad – together, and we’re all affected by others’ stories.

I’m not going to quit writing. I plan to have my name published again someday. Until then, I’ll contribute to the world in a different way and I’ll be looking for the good.

“When life gets hard
you’ve got to remember who you are
And forget about what people think
just be who you want to be
Don’t you want to see how good life can be?
Let’s make a harmony and life will sing”

beauty life

pink popcorn spring

“… Winter was over and gone with the thrill of delight that spring never fails to bring to the oldest and saddest as well as to the youngest and merriest.”

– Lucy Maud Montgomery

Get ready for a pink explosion.

For weeks now it seems like there is something to take a picture of almost every day because the days leading up to spring were just too beautiful not to save. One day our plum tree decided to bloom with these perfect blush-colored flowers that I couldn’t help but admire against the blue sky. Then two bushes started blooming in our backyard in shades of Barbie pink and lemon yellow, and now we’ve got a small peach tree that decided to burst with cotton candy-like, fluffy petals.

Our tulips in the backyard that my mom sent us last fall for a house warming gift began to make their way through the rocks weeks ago and finally decided to bloom the last couple days. Every time I see them I think of her and my mother-in-law who helped me plant them. Both our mothers are represented in those tulips which is such a lovely thing.

Sometimes when I’m driving home from work, I’m taken away by all those trees that really do look like popcorn has popped on them. When I was really little I learned a song about that in church, but I never knew what the lyrics meant. I mostly just liked the tune and how our leaders taught us to burst our hands open like fireworks while singing “popcorn popping on the apricot tree!”

This spring has made everything feel lighter. I think it’s the warmer weather, sunshine and all those flowers and signs of new life. It does seem strange to move into a new season without my dad here, but in a way, it’s like the world is telling me it’s going to be OK. There is hope in new life springing out of the ground like our tulips out of rocks. There is a happy feeling in the lemon and Barbie blossoms.

Then there have been the clouds. Remember all the hearts I saw in the sky one day? I felt very much like it was an Anne of Green Gables moment. I could imagine her looking for them just as I did, but she would have been talking aloud, imagining and renaming the open space to something like Paths to Divine White Hearts of Hope.

I’ve been watching for heart clouds ever since, but they are much more scarce than I thought. I did see a few on a long drive home from Denver last weekend, but other than that, there haven’t been any when I’ve been watching. It makes me think I witnessed a small miracle that day when they kept appearing over and over.

I’ve been looking for hearts more lately in general, and it seems when they don’t appear for me, they appear for someone else who will take a photo and send it to me. I’ve loved this so much. Those photos brighten my day every time and it makes me think we’re all on this heart hunt together.

I think I’m ready for this spring. It was a long, strange, sad winter. While I don’t know for sure what’s next, I see really hopeful signs that things will be good. I sense that “thrill of delight that spring never fails to bring the oldest and saddest as well as the youngest and merriest.”

Now without further adieu, here are pieces of this beautiful world I’ve been seeing lately.

beauty clouds hearts life love

love is in the air

There’s just something about Albuquerque clouds. I have never seen them gather the way they do here. Some days they sit on top of the Sandia Mountains for hours creating dramatic views of fluffy gray against the brown and gold desert mountains. On the west side, sometimes they look just like clouds from the “Simpsons” – all puffy and white. I’ve seen them in real life the way they look in a few Georgia O’Keefe paintings, and I’ve witnessed them turn every shade of sunflower, tangerine, grapefruit and lilac, and a few times lately they looked just like pink cotton candy hovering above the city.

I knew yesterday would be a day to spend some time admiring the clouds. They’d been gathering over the mountains for hours, and by the time I got out of work, they were everywhere – white, puffy and moving with the wind. I’d planned to head to a trail near my house and go for a walk, and while driving there I turned to my left and saw a perfect heart-shaped cloud turned on its side. I wanted to take a picture so badly, but my car was in motion and by the time I could have pulled over to stop, that cloud had morphed into a blob. It only took two stoplights for it to change – two stoplights that decided to stay green for me, even though I wanted so bad for them to turn red.

This gave me some hope and an idea, though, that maybe once I got to the trail I’d be able to see other clouds shaped as hearts because they were moving and changing so quickly, and there were so many of them.

I parked my car and started searching immediately. I took a few pictures of the clouds before I saw any more hearts, then started on the path, walking slowly to take them all in. I kept looking behind me and to my sides because that’s where the best clouds were. Directly in front of me they were beginning to gather too closely and they were getting dark like they could rain.

I thought of my dad of course, and as the hearts began to appear for me, I had to wonder if he was messing with the clouds just for me. Can angels do that, I wondered? Could he read my mind? Was he learning the sciences of the sky, the earth, the clouds? It was definitely a nice thought.

I must have seen at least eight hearts within a half hour. I may have stretched my imagination for a few of them, but they were there for me. I decided that afternoon that we see what we want to see. If I hadn’t been looking, I would have missed all the hearts in the sky. For someone else, they wouldn’t have mattered at all. It’s all about perspective, and it’s all about choice. We choose if we see the good, the bad or the lovely. We choose whether or not we see something beyond what is presented to us, and we can choose to believe something bigger than this world is watching out for and making the world a beautiful place. Love is really in the air, we just have to seek it. The best part is when we do, it appears everywhere.

beauty life love

the beauty of grief

The last little while has felt less heavy. While most people would think that is a good thing, it scares me a little. It’s like I don’t want to step farther away from the days when my dad was here, even if that means things will get easier.

I’ve been writing more on my own lately because I want to remember those first days and weeks. It was really hard for me to process on paper or in documents then, and some of the most difficult moments still haven’t found their way out of me yet. I realized the other day that some parts were so heartbreaking that I lived them once and they never came back to my memory until recently. For all I know, some of those moments may never return. Then there are other parts equally as heartbreaking that live in my mind over and over for some reason. I don’t want to forget them because it’s like if I forget the pain, then I’ve forgotten part of my dad, or part of my family. It was the worst time of my life, but I want to remember it anyway. I want to remember both the good and bad things so that I can remind myself what it feels like to be deeply lost, scared and loved.

At the same time, I want to live presently. I don’t think I’ve ever been in denial since this all happened. I always knew the truth of it, even right after my mom spoke those tragic words. I knew there was no going back no matter how hard we wished for it. I knew it was a nightmare I’d never wake up from because I never fell asleep.

For weeks I listened to the same songs over and over – “View from Heaven,” “How Great Thou Art,” “Lullaby,” “Take it Easy,” and “It is Well.” Those songs help me focus for moments at a time on what my loss really is. I’ve taken more pictures of sunrises, sunsets and the moon than ever before. When biking or skiing, I’ve asked for my dad’s help, or I tell myself I am doing those things for him. So far, I don’t think it’s improved my performance, but it helps me stay focused on goals that will help me get better.

I’m slowly reading a book my friend gave me at my dad’s funeral. It’s called “Heartbroken Open” by Kristene Carlson, a woman who lost her husband in a very random, unexpected way. Her book has resonated with me so many times and explained in perfect words exactly how I’ve felt. The following passage stuck with me since I’ve noticed myself looking at nature and situations in ways I never did before:

“The beauty of grief is presence. Grieving is a very individual and layered process. On my better days, I experienced a calm wellbeing. I noticed the skies never looked so beautiful. I could feel Richard’s love all around me. I missed him deeply and the full life together I always thought we would continue to live and share. Yet each step I took, I felt somehow I was stepping more into me. …

It is so ironic how grief has a way of thrusting you into the present. When you are early into it and just surviving the loss of your loved one, it is natural to go into memory where you are most comfortable, just as it is natural to be terrified of your future. I was in such deep pain at the beginning that I found I could only handle the past and the future in small doses. I learned to acclimate to the present moment because that was the only place where I could live with a sense of equilibrium. When the person who is gone was with you so recently, the whiff of physical need is overpowering. I wasn’t ready to factor in a future without Richard.

“So I learned to live in the midline of my life – in the present, just where I was – with my past to my left and my future to my right.

“When you live in the present your mind is not busy. It is a quiet yet brilliantly clear space because it is uncluttered. You’re not thinking of anything you have to do, or distracted by anywhere you have to go; you are not allowing Thought to drift into the past you miss or the future you fear. You are living in alignment with the moment. When grief catches you, you feel the wave as you roll into it. It is a space where you exist, right now, where life finds you, wherever you are. It is a place of safety that is also shared by the adventurous. It is a concentrated state that is known by rock climbers and rafters and skiers and anyone else who puts themselves in dangerous situations. There is a heightened state of awareness when you live presently; you see every crevice, you feel the fold of rock, the iron-gray air, the numinous texture of the physical world. …

For now I would ride the river, understanding that it is a series of flow, of currents, rapids, and calm … Grief was a current I would not fight by trying to swim upstream. I would let it take me wherever it went. I determined to let each moment present itself, and just be with that.”

The present is what I want to feel and see, even though I don’t want to forget the past. I want my body and mind to feel everything they need to feel. I want to view the world in ways I never have. I want to recognize its beauty in the center of the world’s struggles. I want it to all unfold slowly so I can truly grasp it.

friendship laughter life love

girlfriends are the greatest

Post author By Manette
Post date February 23, 2015
2 Comments on girlfriends are the greatest

During good times and bad my girlfriends have always seen me through and helped me along the way – so this post is for them. It’s impossible for me to share every memory because there are millions and I know I’m bound to leave some girls out on accident. Some pictures of my friends aren’t easily accessible either, so just know I’m thankful for every childhood, teenage, college and grown up (whatever that means) friend who made me laugh until I cried, dressed up with me, sang with me in the car, planned parties and trips with me, shared sorrows and big dreams with me under the stars, worked with me, had sleepovers with me, got in trouble with me, saw me sloppy, danced through the night, and so much more.

Thank you.

With all my heart, thank you.

You are some of the main people making this journey through life fun, exciting, bearable, interesting and inspiring. Tonight I want to share why I love you.

You view the world as something beautiful and you want to see it with me.

You know all we need is a cotton candy maker to ensure a day we’ll never forget.

You were there during the months and moments that changed our lives.

You sat with me when I was the only person older than 4 who wanted to hold a bunny.

You partied hard with me on my 21st birthday.

You dressed to match on accident.

Or on purpose.

You laugh with me until our guts hurt.

You show up on the big days and bad days – and often in a group.

You think wandering around New York City with the sole purpose of eating can be the greatest thing.

You did’t even have to be human to make me happy.

You have dress-like-a-wizard parties with me.

And wear-your-biggest-sleeves parties with me.

And see-who-looks-the-funniest-in-a-Christmas-sweater parties with me.

You taught me that life is an adventure and I still believe it 9 years later.

You saved our umbrella at a baseball game.

You visited me in the desert.

You traveled to one of the most exotic places with me.

You’ve been in my life since the 4th grade (or younger!)

You made sure my dress laid right on my wedding day.

You’ve been happy for me.

You danced to “Save a Horse Ride a Cowboy” with me – in fancy clothes.

You dressed up in ’80s attire because that’s what I wanted for my 30th birthday.

You inspired me to try new things, whether it be ice skating lessons or something else just as fun.

You know I’m ridiculous and often reciprocate that.

You agreed to make a pyramid for me because I was moving away, even though you probably thought I was crazy.

You take feet pictures with me in all the places we go.

You’ve been to the most epic of concerts with me.

You put on mustaches because, who knows why?

You agree to a hug even when you don’t want to (or you just hold your arms out until it’s over).

You get really into karaoke.

You’ve listened to every thought in my brain for years.

You stayed with me on the green runs when everyone else skied better.

You make biking and “Bachelor” plans with me every week.

You text me pictures that make me smile.

You do girly things when my husband won’t want to – like going to the ballet.

And when tragedy struck, you licked the tears off my face while I laid in bed wondering what happened.

You gathered around me during that tragedy, too, in many different ways both near and far. A couple of you came over that night to hold my hand, cry, and agree to watch our cat because we had to leave town. We barely knew you and you did it anyway.

Some of you who I hadn’t seen in years offered to do anything – including picking me from the airport if I needed it. You came to the viewing or funeral (or both), and sent cards, flowers and text messages from states away.

You send me cards and necklaces in the mail that lift my heart.

You’ve remained by my side while life is blurry.

And you know the next time I see you, it’s possible we’ll look like this again no matter what is going on in our lives.

beauty hearts life love

the heart hunt

It was Thanksgiving 2012 and Travis, my mother-in-law and I were in the kitchen slicing mushrooms, mixing up green bean casserole and peeling potatoes when we came across this:

A heart potato.

My mother-in-law started telling us how my sister-in-law, Nikki, loves natural objects shaped as hearts, so we took a picture and sent it her way. After that, Nikki got me looking for hearts and whenever I come across them while walking down the street, driving in my car, or in photos people share, I always think of her. I even think of her when the heart is un-natural, such as in the shape of a cookie. I’ve come to love hearts, not just for my sister-in-law, but for myself. It’s a game I like to play.

A while ago, Nikki sent Travis and me a wooden plate where we could collect rock hearts we find on trips and trails. Her family loves to find and keep them, each with memories attached. I love this idea, and I try to find them every time we’re hiking. What I’ve found, however, is often times the hearts I see are much too big for my pockets, so I take pictures. I’m starting to see them a lot more often now, not only in rocks, but in cactuses, shadows and other unexpected places.

Since it’s valentine’s weekend, I want to share a few with you and their stories.

Way back in September 2013, Travis and I were on our way home from our wedding weekend in Utah. We’d spent a few days hiking around the orange arches in Moab, then drove back to Albuquerque. At some point, clouds began to gather and we ended up in a rainstorm. But before that happened, some of those clouds cast this shadow:

Travis noticed it first, and said it looked like a heart with an arrow going through it. It’s the biggest heart I’ve captured these last few years, and it’s so fitting we saw it right after our wedding.

During our honeymoon in Portugal a couple months later, we loved walking down the cobblestone roads in Cascais. It was a beautiful city with beaches, ocean views and quaint little restaurants. On one of those walks, we came across some broken cobblestone, perfectly shaped as a heart.

On that same trip, I tried desserts at every bakery I could, and wouldn’t you know that one my favorite purchases was a simple black-and-white heart cookie.

Now we’ll skip ahead to last summer when Travis was in Utah for a week for work. He was able to watch an air show with his mom and snapped a photo of the smoke one of the planes left behind while twisting and turning through the sky. I loved this so much.

In July of last year, my parents came to visit and we took them on a day-trip drive through the Jemez Mountains and Los Alamos. We did a short hike to a waterfall, and a long walk around White Rock Canyon Rim where I told everyone to be on the lookout for heart rocks. Well, look who found one:

A little more than a month later during our first wedding anniversary weekend, Travis and I hiked La Luz, which is our favorite trail in Albuquerque. We were on the trail for 16 miles that day and it was hard, but fun, and we came across this:

A week or so after that, Travis and I made our way to Montana to see Glacier National Park. It was one of the most amazing and beautiful places I’ve seen, and during that trip, we came across a couple more lovely hearts. I couldn’t believe the one we saw in the water. It was absolutely perfect.

Then in November, we spent an early Thanksgiving with Travis’ parents in Arizona and during that weekend, we went to the Desert Botanic gardens where they have cactus after cactus after cactus. Lucky for us, my mother-in-law spotted this prickly gem:

Most recently, I had a friend from Utah who was in Albuquerque for work and I took him to the Sandia Crest so he could see the view. We went on a short hike on the top of the mountain and found a couple more hearts in the middle of the trees and snow.

The last two hearts were especially meaningful to me because I try to see my dad everywhere. I had to wonder if he’d remembered that day last July when he and my mom went heart rock hunting for me. Maybe he left a sign for me last weekend in the snow that also kind of looks like Mickey Mouse. I have to believe my dad is looking out for me and that he’s somewhere his spirit can see us. If I don’t believe that, I have nothing.

Love is everywhere. I know that. Sometimes it’s small enough to fit in our pockets and sometimes it’s too big for us to handle. Usually it’s in places that aren’t tangible, like when it’s more of a feeling than anything else. Sometimes it’s a shadow or a rainbow or a song – all things we can never physically feel, but we can see or hear. Sometimes it’s in things we can touch, like our friends, our family and even food, rocks, cactuses and clouds. Even when it’s far away – like in a shooting star my mom saw the other day – it can still feel close because we can see it and feel it make its way inside us. Perhaps that’s the most magical thing about love. It has countless forms and it’s in infinite places. It’s common ground, and it brings us together.

life love

christmas and lucky boots

Post author By Manette
Post date February 9, 2015
No Comments on christmas and lucky boots

This past Christmas, my dad did a lot of the shopping, and he did it early. This was pretty amazing because my parents were always a bit last minute with at least a few things for the holiday, but this year, everything was taken care of, and much of it was done my my dad himself.

He’d picked out two toys for every grandchild and had them wrapped and under a Candyland-themed tree he and my mom picked out this year. That was one of the best Christmas presents he shared with the family, and it was chosen specifically for the kids. It’s really such a beautiful tree all covered in white with bright-colored lights and candy-shaped ornaments. Sometimes we could hear all five of the grandkids gathered around the tree feeling and looking at the gifts, and wondering what they were. On Christmas Eve, Macie and Madison fell asleep in its light on the floor, visions of sugarplums literally dancing above their heads.

My dad had also purchased surprises for my mom and placed them under the tree the morning he left this world. There was a note on one of the gifts we’d find a few days later that was so kind and fun it made us all cry. He’d also surfed through Amazon and chose most of his own presents because he was probably so excited about many things like usual. All of the gifts for me and Travis had been purchased, wrapped and sent to us, so when we left for Utah unexpectedly on Dec. 17, we put them in our suitcases so we could open them there. We took everything with us except for a present for Stella which we opened early. We found out my dad picked that one out, too.

I tell ya, my dad loved Christmas, and he really loved surprises.

On Christmas morning, my sisters-in-law and I all got a pair of boots – picked out specifically for each of us by him. My mom said when they went shopping for those, my dad had her sit down and he’d go around and choose the boots and have her try them on. The pair he picked for me was perfect – I loved them right away, but they were just a half size too big. Before Travis and I left Utah, we went with my mom to exchange them, but since Macy’s didn’t have any in stock that day, the cashier said they could be shipped to our home. That seemed like the easiest thing anyway, so we made the exchange and I think Travis and I flew back to New Mexico that night.

The boots arrived a couple days after we got back from Disneyland, and for some reason, I didn’t open them for days. I had a hard time doing a lot of things that week. I think a part of me felt sad about opening my last Christmas present from my dad, even though I already knew what it was. I think another part of me was just lazy, and it was hard to do normal things, even when it came to opening packages in the mail.

Over the last few weeks, there have been frequent reminders that my dad left a lot of fun lasts for us. For me, there are those boots and I wear them regularly now. They were on my feet the morning “Take it Easy” came on the radio, which I remember being a really good day. I also wore them last Wednesday when I was hoping for some good luck.

While biking, I’ve put on the outfit I got for Christmas that he and my mom picked out together for me, and pretty soon, we’re going to put a ride tracker on Travis’ bike – also chosen by my dad.

Just yesterday, we also had a dining room table delivered. We purchased it using money my parents gave us for our wedding. We’d saved that money for more than a year, always with the intention of getting a real dining room set once we bought a house. I’m sure my dad would love hearing that we’ll no longer have to use a card table and folding chairs for every meal, even though it didn’t ever seem like he minded when he came to visit in October.

From here, I don’t know if there will be any more tangible gifts from him, but maybe I’ll be surprised. It’s possible we might come across things here and there for a while, and I’m pretty sure he sent the missionaries to my house last week.

Now I watch for my dad in the sky. I look for him in the moments I get to see sunsets and the moon. I feel watched over when something lucky happens. The last few days have been hopeful, and I’m happy for that.

life love

take it easy

My coworker told me the other day she’d give me a reason not to hate pennies. She’d just tried to trade me a bunch for a dime, and I told her to keep them because they’d just clog up my wallet. Then she told me about her sweet sister-in law who died a year and a half ago and how lately her daughters have been finding pennies all over the place, and they’ve been wondering if they’re from their aunt. Now every time they find one, they think of her and wonder if maybe it’s on purpose. My coworker had five lined up on her desk and found another one over this last weekend.

I love things like that. It’s nice thinking some of the little things, big things and unexpected things happen on purpose, and that maybe there’s an angel you know who’s making them happen.

A few weeks ago, my friend pointed me to the blog Baby Boy Bakery, written by a woman who lost her 3-year-old in some kind of accident last May. Even though our losses are different, when she writes about them, they seem similar to me. Her son loved Disney and Mickey, and some of the ways she explains grief are just exactly how I feel. She also has a beautiful Instagram account that I started following, and I love how she finds ways to see and feel her son in ordinary things – in pancakes, in red shoes, in Mickey stickers found randomly on the ground, in the sun that sometimes leaves rays in her photographs.

She wrote a post about going to an Angels game after her son died and how it was fun, but painful – then she wrote something that’s stuck with me. “We enjoyed taking Ryan last year and we enjoyed taking him now. We carry our son in our hearts everywhere we go…with and with out Ryan.”

I guess it hadn’t quite clicked with me at that point that I could carry my dad with me everywhere I go. I had looked for him in external ways – in nature and moments where I thought he’d think something was funny. I wondered if I’d somehow actually feel him, but that hasn’t happened in a way I imagined. But when I read her post, I realized taking him with me could be my choice – he could be right in my heart and then I wouldn’t have too look for him anywhere else.

Then last Thursday happened, and this little miracle occurred on my way to work one morning. I had a lot on my mind during that early hour, and I drove to work in the dark as always, but without music on which rarely ever happens. I said some prayers while I drove, then sat in the silence for a few minutes before turning on the radio which happened to be playing “Take it Easy,” a song that reminds me of my dad because he liked the Eagles, and one that we used in his video at the viewing.

It was unexpected, and it put a big smile on my face. It felt like it was on purpose, and I don’t always feel that way. It was perfect for my troubled soul in that moment. Ironically enough it came on while I was driving home from work the next day, too. I’m pretty sure my dad really wants me to take it easy. I’m pretty sure he’s with me more than I think sometimes.

Take It easy, take it easy
Don’t let the sound of your own wheels
drive you crazy
Lighten up while you still can
don’t even try to understand
Just find a place to make your stand
and take it easy