Category: love

what i’ve learned as a dog mom (so far)

Post author By Manette
Post date July 9, 2016
1 Comment on what i’ve learned as a dog mom (so far)

We always had dogs growing up, and as the youngest child with only older brothers, sometimes I would say Muffin, our little gray schnauzer, was my sister. If I’d had a sister, you see, I would have wanted her to be the same age Muffin was, and I would have played Barbies with her, just as I sort of attempted to do with my dog (and in that, I mean I had a Barbie blanket that I used to tie around her head so looked like an old lady). It made me laugh and Muffin was patient, so I guess it was a win/win.

We had Muffin for a long time – until I was a teenager – and she was the stinkiest dog we ever owned, but I loved her so and was heartbroken on her last day. A few years later, my parents caved and let me get Maggie – a fluffy black shih tzu/pomeranian mix. She was this little thing of light, with happy eyes, and the tiniest bladder. For the longest time she simply could not hold in her excitement when she saw members of our family and it unfortunately came out all over the floor in yellow puddles. She liked to be right in your face, she liked to eat marshmallows, and she even had her own little recliner. She was spoiled and sweet and looked adorable wearing the little bows from PetSmart Grooming.

I moved out two years after Maggie became part of the family, so even though she was technically my dog, she was really my dad’s, and they became the best of pals. She would lay on his stomach, inch closer and closer to his face until her eyes were right in his, then she’d most likely sneeze and throw everyone into fits of laughter.

When I moved in with Travis, he wanted a cat immediately. His family never had pets, but he’d had a black cat in college named Lucifer and loved him. I hated him, mind you. He had a thing for pouncing girls and at the time, I didn’t have my own computer. I was often at Travis’ apartment using my boyfriend’s desktop and at some point during the evening, I’d always feel they eyes of the devil on me, then look down the hall to see Lucifer crouching and his tail whipping back and forth. And without fail, he always went after my feet, made me scream, and the boys laugh. So, no, I was not excited about getting a cat when I moved to Albuquerque, but Travis was just so set on it that one day we went to Animal Humane and picked up Stella, who was so scared in the car that we let her out and she pooped on me, then snuggled in my lap. And right then, I knew she belonged with us.

I plan to write a whole post on Stella, because she turned out to be wonderful, and stubborn, and funny, and sweet. But right now I’m just so excited to tell you about the newest addition to our family, that Stella’s post will have to wait (I suppose I’m fickle). And since we’re already five paragraphs in and I have no idea if you’re still reading, I’ll just get right to it. I want to tell you what I’ve learned from having a dog for just a little over a week. Granted, I’ve been around dogs all my life, but I never had one that my parents didn’t do A LOT (or should I say most?) of the work (thanks, guys!).

Name your pet after one of your favorite fictional characters, and it will make you happy every time you call for him. We picked Neville Wigglebottom based on Neville Longbottom in Harry Potter. This has led to all kinds of jokes like whether he’s a Gryffindog or a Hufflepup, how we have our own Padfoot now, and how his bed will be the Cushion of the Phoenix. I already have a photo planned in my head where Neville looks mischievous and the caption will say, “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.” We are nerds for sure, but so is Neville in the books, so it fits. Plus, Neville is actually this really strong, loyal, sweet character, and so is our dog.
I am a crazy dog mom. I can’t tell you how many people I’ve shown Neville’s picture to! Ask about our dog, and expect to have me whip out my phone and show him to you!
Sunrises are the bees knees. We’ve been walking Neville before work most days and it’s so wonderful to see the pink clouds and the way the neighborhood is slightly blue, and golden yellow as the sun wakes up the world. I’m not naturally a morning person, but there is definitely beauty, quiet, and peace in it. Time seems to move slower in the early hours.
Rescue dogs are amazing. We got Neville from Boxer Rescue of Albuquerque and I’ve never had a dog that was so easy right from the beginning. Growing up, we always got puppies so we had to teach them everything. Neville came housebroken, already knew how to sit, and doesn’t pull on his leash. Granted, not all rescue dogs will be trained, but I think most of them come with really huge hearts and the simple longing for love and permanent homes.
Some dogs snore. And Neville happens to be one of them. He also sounds like a pig when he gets excited sometimes. He’s nuts.
Dogs look good in pictures. And if you love taking pictures, but your husband doesn’t love being in them, you’ve got a great new subject to capture.
If dogs and cats can get along, then people should be able to get along with people. Stella was our priority, so if Neville hated her, we couldn’t keep him. This was my biggest worry, and since I became attached on day one, I really hoped it would work out. And it did! I learned that Neville has more willpower than some people. When he can’t quite take Stella being a cat and doing cat things, he’ll sometimes stand up and walk away for 10 seconds. I think sometimes it takes everything in him not to get in her face and see if she wants to play. But he succeeds 90 percent of the time and gets better each day! I wish people could be more this way sometimes – that we could see where we are weak, and where we struggle with those who are different than us, and that we’d take 10-second breathers, and try again. We learned this in kindergarten after all, right?
This happened because people worked together. We don’t know Neville’s whole story or the exact reason he ended up with Boxer Rescue. We do know that he’s been shuffled around to different families a few times in the last few months because of various circumstances that simply didn’t work out. It was after few families fostered him and some volunteers connected all of us together that he ended up with us. I’m so thankful for all of those people! I realize this is the case with pretty much everything in life; everything I have is because of the kindness of others (someone built our house, someone gave Travis and I jobs, someone grew the food we eat), and our experience with adopting Neville was a reminder to be thankful for that.
Life as we know it will never be the same. So long sleeping in until 10 a.m. on Saturdays and Sundays! We have a dog who needs to poop!

I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good. I couldn't resist! — “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”
I couldn’t resist!

beauty love

hopelessly in love

“It’s the time you spent on your rose that makes your rose so important … People have forgotten this truth, but you mustn’t forget it. You become responsible forever for what you’ve tamed. You’re responsible for your rose.”

– Antoine de Saint-Exupery, The Little Prince

• • • • • • •

I am hopelessly in love with roses, and cactus blooms, and purple, and blossoms, and pink petunias.

I am hopelessly in love with spring.

beauty hope life love

a prayer for the world

“Why must people kneel down to pray? If I really wanted to pray I’ll tell you what I’d do. I’d go out into a great big field all alone or into the deep, deep, woods, and I’d look up into the sky – up, up, up – into that lovely blue sky that looks as if there was no end to its blueness. And then I’d just feel a prayer. Well, I’m ready. What am I to say?”
– Anne of Green Gables

* * * * *

For most of my life, my prayers have been pretty simple. As a child, I was taught to humbly call on God with my arms folded, my head bowed, and my eyes closed. I would thank Him for my blessings – my family, friends, home – and ask him for things I needed and wanted – safety for those I love, and the ability to deal with any troubles I was experiencing at that time. When things are good, my prayers are often repetitive and short unfortunately. Sometimes long periods go by where I don’t formally pray much at all except for in the silence of my mind during stressful moments of the day. I’ve always turned to prayer, and I feel that it works, but I’m not always the best at formally turning to God on a day-to-day basis.

When things get hard, however, I find myself pleading on my knees in the darkness, tears streaming down my cheeks. I might curl up on the floor in the middle of the day, the light flooding through the windows, and pray until the pain subsides a little. Or, like last year during heavy periods of grieving, I would often just try to get through each day with more frequent informal prayers here and there.

Recently, though, I’ve tried to take my prayers to a new level with the goal of reaching outside myself and really thinking about the whole world. I wanted to share this with you because it’s something that’s helping me feel connected to strangers and those who I can’t help in any other way.

When I pray now, I try to reach far beyond the people I know and love. While I still say that I’m thankful for those close to me and ask God to protect them, I want to send love to everyone who is troubled and hurting. I want to send love everywhere in the world no matter what. I truly believe that there is power in our thoughts and that somehow they can transfer from one heart to another. One of the beautiful things about experiencing tragedy and grief is that it opens your eyes to many more ways that others suffer, and it reminds you that every person deserves kindness and grace. I also try and thank God not only for the overall beauty and good things in my life, but their details. This reminds me of all the intricate ways this life is beautiful.

A prayer in which I really try to connect with God and the world goes something like this:

Dear Heavenly Father,

Thank you for all that you have given me. For my family and friends. I pray for them and for all those who are suffering in the world. I pray for their safety, for their hopes, dreams, and losses. I pray for those who are hungry, cold, sick, and for those who lack companionship. I pray for those who are lonely, lost, and broken. I pray for those who suffer from depression, anxiety, and any other mental illness. I pray for those who are held captive by others or addictions that they may find their way out of their struggles. I pray for those who are crying today in our city, our country, and in the world. I pray that you will comfort them.

I pray for our world leaders, and that somehow they can work together. I pray for more peace in this world, that wars can end, and that someday we will have no use for weapons. I pray for the candidates running for president in our country – that they will do what’s right for the people, and that collectively, we can choose the best one. I pray for my enemies, and our country’s enemies, that we can somehow find common ground. I pray that those who harm others will someday understand that they are wrong and confused, and that their hearts will be softened. I pray that those who harm themselves will seek help. I pray for those who are victims of violence, and for their family and friends, and that they will feel comfort and love from others.

I also pray for animals – for those that are surviving in terrible weather conditions – the cold, the heat, the wind, the storms. I pray for the animals who feel stressed because they are starving or in danger.

I also want to thank you for the beauty of this earth. For the sunrises and sunsets, for the mountains, tulips, sunflowers and roses. I’m thankful for the pinks and oranges in the sky, for rain, for snow, and for flowing water. I’m thankful for trails created by others that give me a place to hike, run, and ride my bike. I’m thankful for a home, and pray for those without homes that they might find shelter. I’m thankful for the sound of birds, the call of wild geese, and for moments in nature that remind me love is everywhere. I’m thankful for the sound of laughter, for the stars in the night sky, for the sun and signs of warmer weather.

Please help me that I might be more compassionate – that I can see where I can help – that I can worry less about the things I can’t change and focus on the things I can. Please help me where I am weak.

And I say these things, in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.

Those are my longer prayers, but they still only take a few minutes. I’m trying to say them more often and continue adding to them so I don’t forget anyone in this world. I still say shorter prayers in my head throughout the day. I pray when things are tricky, if I’m feeling sad, or if someone I know is hoping for good news – a job offer, a promotion, or a positive outcome at the doctor.

In more recent months, I also learned a Buddhist mantra that calls for the help of Tara, a female Buddha who is a representation of compassion and action, a protector who comes to aid and relieve living beings of physical, emotional, and spiritual suffering. After learning about Tara and getting advice from a Buddhist teacher, I try to whisper Tara’s mantra three times every whenever I hear police, ambulance and firetruck sirens in hopes those suffering in that situation can be comforted.

“Om tare tuttare ture soha
Om tare tuttare ture soha
Om tare tuttare ture soha”

I often follow up with a short prayer to God as well. I figure it’s not a bad idea to be double-covered by Buddhas and God.

I hope by attempting to pray for everyone and everything more often, there will be a tiny bit more peace in the world and a lot more compassion and gratitude in my soul. As I’ve said many times on this blog before, we’re all in this together after all.

20160319_145307 — This statue of Tara is about half the size of my thumb and is taped near the clock in my car. She helps remind me to say her mantra or pray when I hear sirens. Tara is known as “the swift one.” On the statue, you’ll notice her right leg is not quite crossed. She is ready to jump up and help when needed.

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deep thoughts and spanish moss

Post author By Manette
Post date March 13, 2016
1 Comment on deep thoughts and spanish moss

This was my view during our last afternoon in Florida a couple weeks ago. Travis and I were sitting on a bench and I kept staring ahead at these trees, the Spanish Moss dangling from their branches, the pink flowers nestled peacefully in the shade. We were having a pretty deep discussion that began with evolution. I can get on the most random of subjects sometimes. This one started in a garden and continued as we meandered up and down a quaint little street in Winter Park, where people were sipping happy hour wine and cocktails, and snacking on bruschetta, chips and salsa. It was such an unassuming place for such an involved conversation. I tend to process things out loud and Travis is a really good sounding board. He also has really good perspective on things and will offer a lot of good ideas and insight. And he doesn’t judge when these topics seemingly arise out of no where like they did that day in a beautiful garden in Florida. The conversation twisted and turned and included thoughts on where we came from and where, as humans, we are going, until finally it turned into the current state of the world and all its problems, and then somewhat suddenly, I was nearly in tears.

Do you ever feel like you’re the only one in the entire world who believes there is still good in it? That good wins? That love is the answer? That many things are actually better than they used to be despite what we see on the news and hear from many people around us? This is how I felt in that moment, in this garden, while staring at this Spanish Moss. I felt like I needed to be at least one voice in a very loud sea of voices that still believed things could get better.

Of course I am not the only person who believes there is good, love, and beauty in the world. Most people still believe in fairy tales, superheroes, happily ever afters, and that good can overcome evil. If we didn’t believe this, we wouldn’t be flocking to “Star Wars” films, and movies like “Bridge of Spies” wouldn’t be nominated for Best Picture. (Have you seen “Bridge of Spies” by the way? If not, you should. It’s marvelous storytelling about how every life matters, even if that life may be considered a so-called enemy). I would guess that more than 90 percent of the fictional stories we turn to have positive endings. Voldemort loses. The Force continues. Po’s clumsy battles overtake evil (OK, I love “Kung Fu Panda” too). Doesn’t the stories we read and watch, and the endings we hope for, say something about humanity?

However, even if we seek happy endings, I bet you’ve heard the same doom-and-gloom phrases I have throughout my life. Things like, “It’s a sign of the times,” and “The world is going to hell in a hand basket,” and “Back in the good ol’ days.” I used to believe those phrases, and unfortunately, I often still do. But in that Florida garden I couldn’t because believing all of those phrases made me feel like I was giving up on the universe even though it has proven again, and again, and again, that people can forgive, forget, become stronger, love more, create change and present opportunity. If there is no hope, then what is the alternative?

People have been saying the end of the world has been coming for a long, long time – thousands of years probably. And has the world ended yet? The truth is, women in many parts of the world actually have more freedom than they’ve ever had. There is dialogue about some of the toughest subjects concerning all life – even animals. People of various races, religions, backgrounds, and cultures are accepted in ways that they weren’t 10, 20, 30, 100 years ago. Gay people can get married in the U.S. The topic of transgender people and how to support them is actually on the table. These are all really wonderful ways we are coming together in a world that feels incredibly broken and fragile sometimes.

Five or so years ago, I decided to believe that God made us all different for the reason that we have to learn to love. People weren’t meant to grow apart, but they were also meant to be challenged. It would be too easy to love if we were all made the same, and we wouldn’t know our full potential that way. There is something a lot more beautiful in creating truthful, positive, generous, everlasting relationships with others who are not the same as us. There is grace in the way we learn to protect each other, especially those who are more vulnerable. Every single day there are people everywhere who are working to help the underprivileged, the grieving, the lost, the broken.

Sometimes I feel there is very little I can do to help this world. Maybe you feel that way, too. I felt that way in the garden, and I decided I wouldn’t forget that conversation for a long time. I wouldn’t forget that I still have faith in humanity. To counter my feeling of helplessness, I’m challenging myself from here on out to be one hopeful voice.

What if I was one of the stars in that deep, black sky? What if I was one of the little lovely stars, after all? What if my hope was like a tiny speck of light shining with all the other twinkling diamonds of hope in the night? What if your hope shimmered, too? Maybe then more people wouldn’t lose their way. People look to the stars for directions, you know. And people look to hope when all seems lost.

beauty grief laughter life love

disney world for dad

Post author By Manette
Post date March 5, 2016

Let’s start out with this fabulous photo of me wearing flamingo socks and bright blue shoes. I have become obsessed with Woven Pear socks, and much to Travis’ dismay, I will wear them with any outfit, no matter the color. I have socks with cats, roosters, cassette tapes, hearts (of course), and bikes. I brought all the fun socks to Florida and decidedly wore these flamingos the day I thought we were going to Disney’s Animal Kingdom because, you know, animals. Usually these socks are hidden under pants and boots, but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to wear shorts in February, so there was no covering these babies that day. The shoes, well, I needed my good tennis shoes of course! Travis was not excited about my outfit that day but said he’d walk with me anyway. Due to it being a rainy day, we ended up going to Epcot though so the whole animal theme didn’t really work. Oh well! I just looked like this all day:

It wasn’t until last night when my cousin commented on Facebook, “That is quite the sock/shoe combo,” that I realized I’d really pulled a Norm Newbold with this outfit. This made Travis and me laugh out loud, and reminded me that I’m channeling my dad without even knowing it. He was known for his wild, bright-colored clothes, and one of my favorite stories that was told in the first few days after we lost him was one that involved him, my uncle and a bright yellow pair of Crocs. I believe he bought them in a sporting goods store while on a fishing trip. They were shoes that most people in their right minds would never purchase, but “They were a good deal and Bob would have bought them too but they didn’t have them in his size!” He loved those silly Crocs.

In the same way that he was so proud of that purchase, I am proud of my fun socks. I could honestly be Woven Pear’s spokesperson. I have given socks for Christmas and Valentine’s gifts, posted photos on Instagram, and got my sister-in-law Melissa and friend Stacey just as obsessed with them. But I’m not here to tell you how soft they are, how comfy they make my toes, or how I model them for Travis every time I put them on. I digress …

What I’ve been noticing lately is that memories of my dad have been making me more happy than sad. The first time I noticed this was when I saw a picture on Timehop of the Billy Joel/Elton John concert we went to in 2010. Seeing that photo brought a genuine smile to my face as I laid in bed that morning remembering how happy we all were that night, and how thoughtful my dad had been in buying an extra ticket so I could bring a friend. And then yesterday, as I looked at the flamingo socks photo and laughed, thinking of my dad and his crazy outfits once again made me happy.

In Disney World, I thought of my dad all the time. He was a huge Disney fan as I wrote about last year just two weeks after he passed away. I can’t go to Disney parks without him being with me in spirit. He never made it to Disney World, so during this trip I often thought about what he would have loved. In a way, I was seeing all of these things for him. There is an attraction in Epcot called Test Track that lets you build a car. You choose the model, shape, tires, design and more. Then you ride in a car that seemingly tests different conditions such as weather, slick roads, power, and efficiency, then you find out how your car would handle these situations. At the end, the ride speeds up to more than 60 MPH and you can ride with your hands in the air and scream around the track. Travis and I went on Test Track twice because it was my favorite, and the second time was at night. As our car sped up and curved around one of the last bends, a firework from one of the other parks went off and it felt like we were in this perfect, magical Disney moment. It was like my dad was saying hello with that firework, and telling me he was right there loving that ride, too.

I had a few of those moments where I was so amazed I got to see something that always seemed far away and unimaginable. I didn’t know when I’d ever see Spaceship Earth in person, and as the monorail took us around Epcot and it appeared to my left through the window, I literally gasped. The same thing happened the first time I saw the Tree of Life in the Animal Kingdom. These were two things I’d seen on TV and ads since I was a kid and to see them in person was, as cheesy as it sounds, magic. I wonder what my dad’s reaction would have been to these places and the sheer size of Disney World in general.

In Epcot, my dad would have loved seeing the gardens with my mom and exploring each country pavilion. I can imagine him talking about all the countries he’d really been to … Italy, Canada, England, Mexico, France. Maybe he would have asked me questions about China. He would have loved Dinosaur, Expedition Everest and the safari in Animal Kingdom. He would have succumbed to the popcorn smell just as we did in the Magic Kingdom. I thought of him as we passed a corn dog place on Main Street and I looked for hearts and found them here and there. I hope he got to see it all with us.

The last thing we did in Disney was the Fantasmic show in Hollywood Studios. We’d attempted to see it last year in Disneyland but there was a technical issue and the show stopped part way through. I had to laugh when this happened again at the beginning of the show in Disney World. Travis said maybe he just wasn’t meant to ever see it. Out loud and jokingly, I said, “Come on, Dad, fix it!” And right after that, an announcement was made that the show would go on! And it did, and it was fabulous.

Right now, I’m holding onto the happy feelings when thinking of my dad. I that’s what he would want.

20160227_171238 — I love the light in this photo. It’s like my dad is shining down on us.

DSCN0335 — Spotted in Disney’s Animal Kingdom. This was normal sock day.

DSCN0321 — Do you see the sideways heart on this tree? I didn’t notice it until after we got home and I put the photos on my computer. So cool! This was spotted on the safari ride in the Animal Kingdom.

I found this heart near Splash Mountain in the Magic Kingdom.

Just for fun, here are a few examples of my dad’s awesome style for you:

And here’s one where we all apparently took after my dad … and at Disney, too!

beauty life love

new life

Post author By Manette
Post date March 4, 2016
No Comments on new life

I feel myself becoming a morning person now more than ever. Even though it’s still hard for me to get out of bed, when I do, I am happy, energetic and mostly annoying to Travis. Waking up at 5 a.m. and forcing myself from beneath our covers is a struggle, but once I’m up, I’m often pestering Travis with pokes and jokes until he gets up too. I flex my non-muscles in all sorts of poses to make him laugh, then we head out to the living room for P90X3.

I feel like I have more energy for everything these days. I went to bed last night excited for this morning. This is my Friday off and I have zero solid plans. While I didn’t bound out of bed at 5 a.m., I did get up before 8 a.m., which is a miracle if you ask my mom and previous roommates who saw me sleep in past 10 a.m. for much of my weekend life. This morning, though. This morning, I’m happy about cinnamon coffee brewing in the kitchen and the idea that I can make today however I want it to be. I can do my favorite things – write, take pictures and spend time outside.

Last week we were in Florida where everything was lush and green, where the Spanish Moss danced slowing with the wind and the sun sparkled through tree branches. The salty, cerulean ocean was only an hour away, and oh how I long for water sometimes. I laid on a rainbow-colored beach towel in the sand and let the sun soak into my skin and tried to let my mind wander as freely as the wind – thoughts coming and going until all felt still for a moment. Everything in Florida made me feel lucky to be there, and it was enough to make a desert girl like myself a little jealous. However, upon our return to Albuquerque, there were blossoms and buds forming on our trees and bushes. It was a wonderful surprise that made me feel lucky to be here, too. Right now, we have a bush flaming in lemon yellow, and another blooming in bubblegum pink. Soon, red flowers will burst from our backyard cactus, another bush will turn purple, and our peach tree will transform into, well, peach flowers. This will be the second year experiencing spring in this house and while I know better what to expect from our foliage, I’m still amazed by nature’s gifts and wonder.

I noticed my tulips are coming out of our rock beds and these flowers have the power to put a smile on my face and make me think of my mother, who bought them for us as a housewarming gift, and my mother-in-law, who helped me plant them. There is something very beautiful about that.

There is something beautiful about new life in general. Last spring, I was incredibly sad and spring helped lift my soul. This year, I am still nostalgic but I’m doing better and spring is a perfect reminder that things can keep moving in a fulfilling, lovely way. The world is brimming with miracles after long, harsh winters. I’m trying to make life bloom before me a little more slowly. I’m trying to breathe it all in and capture the color with eyes that have seen heartache and grace. I want to let this spring be new and free, and in the same way I noticed the blossoms, I hope to pay attention to more of this season’s gentle, bright surprises.

grief life love

where i’m going from here

12017571_10208170804128887_610895890119932369_o — I chose this picture for this post because I look the way I feel … happy.

I’m feeling much more like my old self these days. In the last couple weeks, it’s like a big weight was lifted off me that I didn’t know was there. I’ve been a roller coaster the last year, but during the times when I was on top of the hills, they didn’t seem this high. Now it’s almost like I can feel my arms in the air, and the adrenaline of what’s to come again, and that is a really good feeling.

This past year, I always laughed. I always worked. I always planned. There always seemed to be something heavy following me around, though. It was like I was a prisoner in some way, with my ankles shackled together carrying a very big ball behind me. A lot of grief, a lot of fear, and some resentment and anger seemed to always follow me around. And even as the weight of that ball became lighter (or I built enough muscle to just pull it around easier), it was there dragging me into the past and making it so I didn’t see the present in a full, accurate way.

I’ve written mostly about grief on this blog since my dad passed away, but this blog was originally meant for something else. It was meant to be my positive, uplifting space on the internet. While I don’t regret the direction this blog has gone because life changed and no one could have predicted that, I’m hoping to share more thoughts on this blog’s original topics – love, beauty, happiness, friendship. I’m hoping, because of what I’ve been through, that my thoughts will have more validity than before. Soon after my dad was gone, this became the place that I could share some of my perspectives on life and death, and through that, I have discovered much more depth in me and my writing. If only I’d written more, I always think, but writing has been hard.

In the last recent while, when I discovered myself feeling more and more like me, I hesitated to believe it would last because in the last year my ups and downs have been pretty unpredictable. I have wondered if this top-of-the-roller-coaster-hill feeling will be temporary. Life will always be somewhat up and down, right? If it’s not grief that seems overwhelming, it will be something else. What I’m learning though, is I have to keep a balance inside me, and learn to be OK with the lack of influence I have in so many ways. In all reality, I can’t control very many things in this life, but more recently, I’ve tried to focus on the things I can.

How I view the world

I stopped watching the news around the new year. I have a tendency to dwell on the negative, scary stories. This was affecting multiple aspects of my life. I was fearful on a daily basis and everything felt like chaos. I was becoming very negative about the world and the city I live in. However, what I see in the news is not the full picture. I know because I worked in news professionally for eight years, and unfortunately, the bad stories generate more views, more clicks, and seemingly more excitement. It seems there are fewer positive feature stories as top headlines on news websites and TV stations these days, but all those happy things are still happening everywhere every single day, and it’s my choice to remember that and participate in the good. I will never be able to control the bad things that happen, but I can focus on the good and pray for everyone every day without watching the news.

How I view others

Everyone deserves friends and compassion. Just like me, everyone is seeking to be happy. The more I see others and their needs as equal to me and my longings, I will be able to share more love with them. Recently, I was told that although there are a lot of things out there that seem uncontrollable and confusing (like my dad’s death), love will always work. It works to solve problems. It works to mend burned bridges. It works to heal every single heart. You may never know if a certain prayer worked, or if science worked, or if politics works. You may also know when all of those things didn’t work. But love will always work in some way. I think it helps more than time or any other remedy someone can suggest for grief, depression, or anxiety. Love works. It protects. It wins.

How I view myself

My husband and I started a workout regimen this year and it’s not only given us more quality time together, but it’s improved how I feel about my overall self and body. I’m feeling better than I have in a while due to these 5 a.m. workouts and weekly climbs at the rock gym. We have goals together and separately (like me running a half marathon in May!), and I’m feeling a difference in my mind, probably due to extra endorphins. Beyond working out, I’ve also felt myself fall back into the creative things I love that hadn’t been consistent in my life for a long while. I’m designing more again, I’m putting effort into my Etsy shop, I’m taking pictures, I’m writing. I also sense my mind changing and gravitating more toward the things that make me feel lighter and happier. Just this last week, I created a “Happy” station on Pandora. So many melancholy songs on my Ingrid Michaelson station helped me through the last year, but I’m finding myself wanting to sing and dance again to upbeat, fun, and ridiculous songs like “Uptown Funk,” “All About That Base,” and, yes, “Happy.”

* * * * * *

I’m never really sure where this blog will go, but I have ideas. For now, I hope that some of these things might work for you if you are struggling. If it’s bothering you, turn off the news. Remember that love works. When you’re ready, set goals that remind yourself of the old you. If you’ve been through something hard, you’ll probably never be the same and that is OK. But there is hope. There is always hope.

beauty friendship grief laughter life love

feeling alive

“You just keep living until you feel alive again.”

My sister-in-law heard that quote on a television show a few days ago and sent it to me. The worst thing about loss is it feels like everyone moves on and you’re still stuck. I learned that nothing and no one will ever let you grieve as long as you want to, or in the way you want to all the time. It was quite a while before I felt completely alive again, and even that was temporary. In the meantime, I had to continue working and making plans.

I believe one thing that helped me the most last year was planning travels with Travis, friends and family. I got to visit quite of few of my best friends, and they came to visit me. I want to tell you about some of those moments. In case you’re ever grieving in the worst way, I want you to know that you can feel alive again. In my case, it was always, always, always my close friends and family who helped me feel that way.

Disneyland I insisted we watch the firework show one night and they played “Silent Night” while the sky lit up with bursts of all colors by the castle. Travis looked at me, knowing I was thinking of my dad because my cousin played that song at his funeral. I cried a little on Indiana Jones. I smiled a lot when the Genie in Aladdin reminded me of him. I took pictures of things that reminded me of previous trips. The corn dog stand. The Carnation Cafe. The Golden Horseshoe. My mom. I marveled at how a person can be everywhere and no where at the same time.

Telluride A friend suggested I plan little trips or fun weekends each month so I had something to look forward to. Soon after that, we were invited to ski in Telluride and I couldn’t pass up the chance. I (slowly) made my way down an icy mountain several times that weekend. I faced fears. I breathed in the world’s chilled beauty – the fresh air, the white snow, the pine trees. I laughed my guts out playing Cards Against Humanity for the first time and during a late-night gondola ride.

Denver My friend Stevi and I got a hotel for a night where I jumped on the bed for about two seconds before falling right off! It was the prettiest hotel with fluffy, marshmallow comforters and pillows. We drank red wine and talked about all things happy and sad as usual. Then we ventured into Denver’s busy downtown and watched Garth Brooks take a late-night Saturday crowd by storm. Stevi and I stood the entire time. We sang our lungs out. We danced. I couldn’t make it to my dad’s birthday party that weekend, but I know he was in Denver with me, too. And now I’m glad I didn’t know / The way it all would end, the way it all would go / Our lives are better left to chance, I could have missed the pain / But I’d have had to miss the dance

Utah Tulips were blooming in every color – deep plum, fire truck red, monarch orange, sunset pink – and the cherry blossoms were putting on a show. My mom and I walked all over Thanksgiving Point looking for heart leaves and talking about my dad. She helped me with my first bridal faire at USU that weekend, and she blew out candles with all five of her grandkids right by her sides cheering for her.

Seattle The sun was out as we drove to the city. I told Brittny I felt like my dad was watching over me, and that days like that day made me feel really lucky and blessed. I asked her, “Who watches over those who are not so lucky? The homeless? The lonely?” She said, “Maybe all we have is today. Maybe those people also have had wonderful days. Maybe someone is looking out for them, too, but maybe all you can do is count on the day you have. This is our day. And we are going to have a good day.” We turned up Beyonce and kept driving into what became a really perfect memory.

Memorial Day “Color is one of the great things in the world that makes life worth living to me.” Georgia O’Keefe said that and I wrote it down the day Travis and I went to her museum in Santa Fe with Emilie and Garrett from Utah. We hiked that day, sipped little chocolate drinks and said goodbye after a wonderful weekend with them.

Father’s Day Weekend Lightning struck, thunder cracked and rain began to fall during the last few songs at the Tim McGraw concert. Was Dad saying, “Hello?” My mom, Chelsea and I hugged and cried as the whole crowd sang. “And I loved deeper, and I spoke sweeter, and I gave forgiveness I’ve been denying. And he said someday I hope you get the chance, to live like you were dying.”

Durango After spending all day on a working choo-choo train that weaves along the calming Animas River, green pine trees and around canyon drop-offs, Travis’, his dad’s and my face were covered in soot and my hair was wonderfully windblown and tangled. There is something about the mountains, riding in an open gondola, the wind in your face, the non-stop chugging of the train that relaxes you and makes you excited at the same time.

San Francisco The city smells like sourdough, chocolate, garlic, the ocean and wine. One day, Travis and I walked for miles and miles along the northern part of San Francisco, passed the Painted Ladies, then by The Mill where the smell of toast and coffee came billowing through the front doors and onto the sidewalk. We made our way to the Palace of Fine Arts, along the beach near Crissy Field where dogs happily splashed in the water and chased their friends, and where kite surfers glided through the waves. We walked on the Golden Gate Bridge the day after we’d taken a boat ride beneath it with our friends Ken and Claudia. Happy memories for sure. Travis and I always travel well together.

Pool Days The spiked lemonade took us all by surprise and we spent the rest of the day ridiculously laughing at the craziest of things. Then I ate an entire tub of salsa while trying to talk Jenn out of being sick. That’s what best friends are for, after all. The rest of the weekend was filled with long talks, flowers and painting. I’m so glad she came to visit.

Washington, D.C. We wore matching pineapple pajamas to bed, ate macaroni and cheese, toaster strudel and cotton candy grapes. April made everything feel like old times. After she dropped me off in Virginia, Brittny, Holly and I spent our nights talking late into the night about all the real stuff. The day was filled with museums, monuments and bike rides. I’ll love these girls forever.

College Kids How we ever managed to pull off getting together again still seems like a miracle to me. Bret and Michelle came from Utah, and Stevi came from Denver one weekend. These friends were and continue to be main players in shaping my life for good. I’m thankful for the time we spent swimming, quoting our old jokes and exploring New Mexico.

Balloon Fiesta We managed to get my nephews out of bed around 4 a.m. to watch hundreds of balloons take off at dawn in Albuquerque. They were such good sports. As always, we were all amazed as we watched the balloons rise. With little wind that day, they hovered around us for a long time. I’m so glad my brother, sister-in-law and my mom drove down for the most magical time of the year here. Ryan got his Heisenberg hat and wore it everywhere, so I’m pretty sure the weekend was a success.

Christmas The Candyland tree stayed up the whole year and looked just as magical as the first time I saw it. We saw a movie at the Kaysville Theater on Christmas Eve and all laughed during the old-fashioned theater etiquette commercial like usual, then we accidentally turned out to be the messiest people in the place (you probably had to be there)! My mom went shopping for things my dad would have – speakers and car kits – and it made us all so happy. She stood in front of us as we opened them and explained how they all worked. It was amazing!

Breakfast of Champions Potato casserole and French toast were on the menu the morning after Christmas when 20-something friends came for breakfast at my mom’s house. A handful of them drove all the way from Logan, and that meant a lot to me. I tried to invite everyone, but I’m sure I accidentally missed some. I wanted to gather as many friends as possible who had been a major part of my life, and who showed up when things got hard. High school friends I hadn’t seen in years came to my dad’s viewing, and they also came to breakfast that morning after Christmas. I told everyone before we started eating that I had planned to write a speech, but ran out of time. So I just thanked them for coming and said I was glad they were part of my life. It wasn’t enough, but sometimes words never will be. Hence, the French toast. 🙂

New Years Travis and I finished and started the year in Arizona with his parents. We stayed up late drinking champagne and watching the ball drop after my first NHL game where we howled with all the coyotes fans. “Ooo Ooo Oooooooooo!” A new year. A fresh start.

• • • • • • • • • • •

Those are some of the moments that made me feel alive again last year. Those were some of the days when I felt like broken pieces were being put back together, and when all the nostalgia, and grief, and laughter, and adventure created something really lovely and new. What I know now is that life will never be what you expect all the time. Sometimes it’s really, really hard. What I think I’ve always been aware of, though, is how much the people I love help me see the best things in myself and the world. They keep me strong, and they remind me that life is truly beautiful. Thank you for that. Thanks to all of you.

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one year

One of my friends asked me whether this year has been long or short. I decided it’s been long. Last December and January seem like forever ago.

When I look back, I always think of pink sunrises in those first few weeks after the funeral. I would drive to work in the dark, and a few times a week, I’d try to find a few minutes to go stand on the roof and look at those pink clouds. The moon would be setting through the haziness out west, and the clouds would be hovering in grays and blues along the Sandia mountains to the east. Everything felt hazy, blue and gray then. However, some mornings were so stunning they took my breath away. I always felt my dad close in those moments.

There have been so many beautiful things that happened this year – and so many adventures. I’m thankful for that. But there’s also been a layer of sadness beneath everything I’ve done and experienced. The trip to Disneyland in January – getting a new job – the train ride in Durango – a Tim McGraw concert with my mom – seeing San Francisco – Balloon Fiesta. I wish my dad would have been there for those days, or that I could have told him about them. Those days and so many others.

A week ago, my family and I went to the place where my dad passed away. I have come to realize that in every place where someone leaves this world, there are angels who attend and leave that space more holy than before. When we visited, the sun was shining, there was snow on the ground and heart clouds appeared. It was peaceful and gorgeous, and even though I wish things were different a year ago, I know my dad wasn’t alone when he left this world, and my family will never be left alone either.

One year came and went on Wednesday. I took the day off and slept in. I cried in the shower. Then I tried to do a mix of reflective things, and fun things my dad would have liked. I saw a movie, ordered a medium popcorn, then went to See’s Candies (they have a chocolate named Normandie after all). I drove to the foothills and went for a long walk while looking for hearts. I came across four, and I took one of them home.

I prayed and cried in the open space and thanked God for the good things in my life. I told him I want to use the next year to be more in the moment – to remember that people can be taken away at any time, and to cherish those relationships always. I thanked God for my parents and told him I felt lucky to have my dad in my life for 30 years. I said thank you for the beauty of the world. There really is so much of it.

Before we went to bed that night, we lit luminarias in our driveway in the shape of a heart. The candles lit up the night in this gorgeous way – the way only candles can.

It’s been a long year. A long, beautiful, sad, hazy year. I’ve learned a lot about life, death, tragedy and myself. I’m going to light a candle in my heart – one that was blown out a year ago – and will let it grow brighter this next year.

beauty friendship hearts life love

200 pieces of my heart

20151007_111939 — My mom, nephew and I found this heart earlier this month during their Balloon Fiesta visit. We thought of my dad the whole time.

There is a trail by my house that is perfectly challenging and beautiful, and when I take advantage of it, I not only come home with a great view of the city and the occasional cactus bloom or sunflower in my head, but often a better outlook on my life.

Let’s face it. It’s been a rough year.

I recently started running on this trail more often thanks to a challenge from a friend to run a 10K. I wanted to compete in a long race for my dad this year but never mustered up the energy to even sign up for something longer than a 5K until this friend said she was running a half marathon and invited me to do it, too. At that point in the year, I didn’t have enough time to train for 13.1 miles, but figured I could train for 6.2. I made the official commitment on Sept. 1 and signed up for the Duke City race on Oct. 18.

Six weeks was not a lot of time. Things got crazy and I didn’t get to train as much as I wanted, but long-story-short, I unexpectedly ended up running the whole race and finished around my average time. This was some sort of miracle, I promise you, but there were a few other miracles and mind-opening moments while training for that race I want to share.

I told you it’s been a rough year and I know this isn’t a surprise to you if you’re a close friend, family member, or anyone who has been reading this blog since December. For me, it’s really hard to run when my heart feels heavy and overwhelmed. Some days I’d go out on that trail and come home very frustrated because my mind kept me from doing my best. It was filled with the things that make me sad and it’s really hard to keep my legs moving when all I want to do is go home, crawl under my covers and be mad at the world.

There were a few good runs in there though, and one of them in particular has stayed with me. I don’t remember how fast I went that day, or how many times I had to stop mid-hill, but I do remember knowing in that moment that my heart is healing.

The first time I wrote on this blog after my dad passed away, I said, “Sometimes your heart breaks into 1,000 pieces.” It’s true. Sometimes life is just that way. For me, it happened Dec. 16 on my way to meet a friend for coffee. The moment was so unsuspecting. Sometimes life is just that way, too. All of the sudden you’re making U-turns, but you don’t really know where you’re supposed to go because your heart just fell to the ground and you realize the world has no refuge for you. If your heart can shatter right after missing a left turn on a road you’ve driven a million times, it can shatter anywhere.

It wasn’t long before I was sobbing on the floor of my living room. And it wasn’t long after that when I found myself in bed on the phone trying to sort out pieces that wouldn’t be known for hours. It seems I was on the phone all night. At the table. On the floor in front of my bed. In the dining room while pacing and making plans.

On that first day when you’re heart breaks into 1,000 pieces, nothing seems quite real. You almost wonder if you’ll wake up from it. On the second day, everyone is forced to start making really big decisions. Within seven days, you’ve most likely survived the viewing, the funeral, and the burial. For us, nine days later we celebrated our first major holiday without my dad – Christmas. Those firsts sometimes hit like a ton of bricks. Eleven days later, I was back at work editing and posting stories about an accidental shooting. More bricks.

From there on out, life sometimes feels like a corn maze. Sometimes you’re on the right path, and sometimes you’re not. Sometimes you’re going in circles and seeing the same things twice. Oops. It’s haunted sometimes; there’s the regrets and if onlys, and it feels like someone (maybe it’s yourself) is trying to chase you out of this horrible place and you’re screaming while running for the exit you can’t find.

Not all days are bad. There are really good days and there are actually a lot of normal days. You learn that no one and nothing will ever let you grieve for as long as you want to, so you learn to go on and pretend in most situations that everything is OK.

There are possibly more moments when you remember not to take things for granted. You see everything differently – from the clouds, rainbows, and sunsets, to the lightning, wind and starry skies. You notice more deeply when you’re on an adventure your loved one would have enjoyed having too, and you hope he’s with you somehow. For me, one of those moments was riding on a working choo-choo train from Durango to Silverton this summer where Travis, his dad and I all ended up with soot on our faces, wind-blown hair and memories to last a lifetime. The afternoon Travis and I took a boat under the Golden Gate Bridge was another moment my dad would have loved. Of course I thought about him when Travis and I were hundreds of feet above ground in a hot air balloon this August, and on the morning my mom and brother’s family was in town to see hundreds of hot air balloons launch all around us. I also know he would have loved to finish a race with me, so I don’t doubt that he actually did in spirit on Oct. 18.

Remember how I said my heart is healing? It’s a slow process, but I know that it is. During that training run on the trail by my house, I started thinking about how I was really close to reaching my 200th heart post on Instgram since May. I thought about the places they’ve been found and the people who have sent them to me. They’ve been discovered in the sky, as potato chips, in canyons and pumpkin patches. Friends visiting Scotland, England, Ireland and Japan and photographed them on sidewalks, sewer covers, statues and flower fields. Hearts have appeared as watermelons, water spots, bubbles, bricks and bark. They are everywhere, and they often come with a happy story or adventure attached.

I’ve known how incredible this is, but it struck me again during that run. I realized even though my soul broke into 1,000 pieces 10 months ago, every time I find a heart, or every time someone sends a picture, it’s like one of the shattered pieces is being put back together.

Sometimes your heart breaks into 1,000 pieces. It’s true. Sometimes life is just that way.

On that first day when you’re heart breaks into 1,000 pieces, nothing seems quite real.

I’ve lived 313 days since then and I can tell you it’s all real now – the pain, the loss, the grieving. But I can also tell you the healing is real, too, and you’re helping me with that. Thanks so much for sending me your hearts – your miracles – because they’ve become my miracles, too. I always say this, but we’re really all in this together. Thanks for taking me in, for thinking of my family, for sending your love and for helping at least 200 pieces of my heart feel like they’re on their way to being whole again.

As my husband reminded me yesterday when he gave me a heart necklace, every piece of my shattered heart has the ability to love everyone else, too. And one day, we’ll live in a space where there is no suffering, loss, or danger. Until then, I can work on making that place inside my own living, beating, healing heart.