Family Reunion {Oh, Sweet Memories}

I have vivid memories of our family reunions from my childhood. 

It was always one of the highlights of my summer. 

Once a year, we would gather for a weekend at the family farm. 

At one time, only a gravel road led us there. It is secluded and peaceful.

Well peaceful the other 51 weekends out of the year. 

There were simple tents pitched to elaborate campers pulled in. 

It was where you went to bed to the hum of the cicada and rose with the smell of bacon being cooked over the campfire stove. The early birds always got the worm. 

There were fresh, homemade donuts dripping with gooey glaze. 

And of course when dinner rolled around, the plywood table covered in vinyl cloth was overflowing with anything you could imagine. But, you knew not to fill yourself too full because just as the evenings would wind down, there would be roasted marshmallows for sticky smores and bowls piled high with homemade fresh churned vanilla ice cream. 

There were intense games of Uno, slip-and-slides, and water balloons. 

And for a couple of years, the younger generation blessed the older generation with a production of some sort. We handed out tickets and programs and one was pretty much required to come because there was no place to escape. I remember one year my oldest brother directing us in a rendition of The Wizard of Oz. I'm certain it was nothing short of agonizing to have to sit through but there were never complaints. 

There were pictures taken in the same tree year after year and giggles because Great Aunt Max always had the biggest, floppiest hats. There was a hayride and horseback rides. And a stop off at the same creek for wading and crawfish catching. 

Though the gathering has gotten smaller over the years, 

this past weekend still brought many of those same memories. 

As I about to put my toes in the wading creek, I hear a little voice call for me.

I turn to see my cousin's two-and-a-half year old daughter with her hand out stretched wanting me to take hold. I reach for her and she grabs tight. In we wade together. As the cool water began to reach her thighs, she kicked and splashed, and squealed with shrill delight.  

And in that moment, I felt it. 

As she clung tight to my left, I longed to look down to my right and see my Addy's hand in mine. Oh what would it be like to have her there too? To share with her memories that I cherish. To experience the pure joy from my beloved that radiated from my cousin's daughter. 

As my heart stung, I looked down on the creek bed and there was a rock, the perfect shape of a heart. I picked it up and held it tight in my right hand. 

Since Addy's passing, my mom has collected heart shaped rocks. To her, they are little signs of our Addy with us. Wading in the creek, aching for my daughter, a simply yet perfect little rock put my heart at ease. 

My Addy, she is with us.

She is with us always. 

Suburban Gardening

It is not really an urban garden and certainly not the type you would find on a nice plot of land in the country so I guess you call it a suburban garden? 

I may have just made that up but let's go with it. 

And warning...if you are a real gardener, now is the time to stop reading because my motto goes along the lines of trial and error. If you are experienced, my low down on suburban gardening will sound like nails on a chalkboard.  I'm not an expert and I could be breaking every cardinal rule of growing but it works for me.

Growing a garden makes me really happy. I seriously feel like a kiddo in a candy store when I get to pick something that I actually grew. It's the bees knees and if I can do it, so can you. Trail and error people, trial and error.  When something actually grows you will feel like you should quit your job and become a farmer because practically you are. 

Or something like that. 

Anyway, the first summer in my home, I decided to try my luck and put Emily to work tilling up the grass. God bless little sisters. 

In total, my little raised bed garden is only 4 foot by 8 foot. Pretty small but being in the 'burbs puts limitations on how much of the lawn one can actually convert. There are millions of online tutorials for what is best so I just went with what seemed most logical.

Two things:

1. The soil in my area is all clay based so a raised bed garden was best. 

2. Don't even judge my two tone fence. I stained part of it when I first moved in and well the other half took a back burner to life. Oops. 

 Each spring, I use a shovel to loosen the soil that is left over from the previous year (because it is a small area a tiller isn't necessary after the first year of digging up the yard). Once it is loosened, I pour compost soil over the top. I have no idea if it is necessary but stating with a top layer of fresh nutrient rich soil makes sense in my head. 

The winters in Missouri don't lend themselves well to growing from seeds so I start with transplants. And let me tell you the best kept secret...go to your local farmers market to buy your transplants. Why? Because farmers are a gold mine of info and they love to share their passion. So I think about what veggies and herbs I love to eat and then illicit the help of an expert to map it out. The first year I gardened, I was clueless so I wondered through a booth and saw zucchini transplants. I happen to love zucchini so I asked how it is grown, how much space it needs, how much one transplant yields, etc. The nice farmer was so excited to see a "kid" express interest in something he loved that he went on and on and on. 

 The key to mapping a garden is understanding how each thing you want to plant grows. For instance, zucchini grows out on a vine while peppers grown up on a stalk. Keeping that in mind, zucchini need more space between each transplant while peppers can be planted closer together. 

How things grow is a question that the farmer can answers or good ol' google. 

 This year I planted zucchini, peppers (yellow, red, and green), green beans, and tomatoes. I have found that tomatoes (and my herbs...basil, rosemary, and parsley) do quite well in a container (so in a pot instead of being stuck in the ground). And, each year I like to throw a wild card into the mix. Basically it is one new type of transplant to keep my 'trail and error method' alive. It's something I have never grown and don't have my hopes set on thriving. If it works, I will incorporate it into future gardens and if not, no biggie. 

 The wild card of the year is brussels sprouts. I mean what? 

I love brussels sprouts and if you google how they grow it's actually kinda neat. 

We shall see what will be with them!

 Because transplants are a little weak when they are first planted (as in a little flimsy thing trying to defend itself again rain and wind) I have found that giving them a little boost in stability is helpful. You can get as fancy or as popsicle stick/sharpie/loosely tied twine as you want. 

Type 'garden support' into pinterest and you will be mind blown on all the ways in which you can protect your veggies. But alas, keeping it simple works too. 

Someday, I would love to have a big garden with lots and lots of wild cards but my little 4x8 produces plenty of goodness for me (and any tenants that I have at the time).

If gardening sounds overwhelming, start with a couple containers and see how it goes. When you get your first tomatoes or are able to grab fresh cilantro to toss into guac you might as well chalk yourself up to being as great as Martha. 

Preparing for The Big 3-0 {Thirty Baby}

This summer I will be 30.

That is the bIg 3-0 friends!

T-h-i-r-t-y.

I'm not one who gets all bent out of shape about age and don't particularly feel that thirty makes me "old." It is just natural progression rolling ahead and I'm quiet fond of the idea of leaving my twenties behind. They were not particularly blissful and thirty almost feels like a number that better reflects the life experience and wisdom that have come with the experiences life has brought.

Of course, if I'm being honest, deep down, raw & real...the number thirty doesn't scare me but at times, contentment does. Recently, I sat at the side of one of my dearest friends after she beautifully brought her third child into this world. Of all the events of life, child birth is the most miraculous of all. As I held her newborn child, giggled over her chubby cheeks and squinty eyes, and soaked in the newborn smell,  I caught myself lost in thought. I left and headed to a shower for another friend who will welcome her first baby this spring....the shower being hosted by yet another friend whom we will soon celebrate as she welcomes her second child this summer. I am awed by the opportunity to watch my friends become mommas (for the first, second, and even still for the third time). It is a deeply cherished joy. Motherhood is simply beautiful and utterly incredible and watching those whom you love experience it, is a gift.

Yet, walking away from a whirlwind day of celebration, I found myself lost in wonder of what my future holds. While the number thirty doesn't intimidate me, this isn't what I envisioned for being on the brink. As I celebrate the joy of life with my dear friends, I catch myself in wonder if it will ever be me.

When I turned 28, I wrote out a big bucket list and spent the days leading to 29 marking off dreams. Big and small. Realistic and grasping for what seemed just beyond reach. It was fulfilling and motivating and healing. When I celebrated 29 and looked back to reflect that every box had been checked, I was overcome by what became possible in the midst of such brokenness.

30 felt like it needed something too. Something to mark the leaving behind of the decade that stripped me, shattered me, and yet shaped me. Despite feeling like this isn't how I envisioned this season of life and wondering what may or perhaps may never come, I'm embracing what is. Alive in the present.

So, thirty is being ushered in with a dream. A dream that is being planned into a reality.

A little trip you might say.

Well,  a little jaunt half way across the world.  
With two dear friends {One of whom is ushering in her 30's too}.

Me, them, and a hunger for adventure, exploration, and the opportunity to embrace what is.

Happy 30th To Us. 

{Happy} Mother's Day

{Happy} Mother's Day. 

This is the third Mother's Day that has passed 

since my beloved daughter went to be with Jesus.  

I wish I could say that it has gotten 'easier' with the passing 

of time but 'easier' won't do. 

It's simply different. 

I felt it today, that deep hole in the pit of my soul, it still burns. 

It aches, longs, cries, yearns, and wonders. 

Oh what I wouldn't give to go back. 

To hold my sweet child. To kiss her chubby cheeks. 

To look into her eyes and tell her just how much her momma loves her. 

This journey hurts, over and over and over again. 

But interwoven is peace, and comfort, and reminders of the hope that prevails. 

Forever and ever her momma I will be. 

Hold your babies tight and celebrate them as the best gift of all. 

----

Happy Mother's Day Dear Friends.

Celebrating Addy's 2nd Birthday...

Last year, I had a big party for Addy's 1st Birthday. 

I needed a party. I needed purpose in planning and the distraction of the details. 

But mostly, I needed to know that she was remembered.

My divorce was finalized just three weeks before her first birthday and I needed to know that she wasn't lost or overlooked in the chaos of the demise. So I planned, mailed out invitations, made decorations, baked all the desserts, hired a photographer, agonized over what to wear, and friends and family faithfully drove across the state to attend. It was perfect. And so, so needed. 

What I have learned over the course of the past two years is the multitude of ways in which those near and dear to me have found to honor and celebrate and remember my Addy. Big, personal, unique, and intentional ways to reflect the impact of her life.  She mattered and she matters. 

So this year, her birthday looked different. Rather than one big celebration, it was week of small yet intentional ways to remember. As her momma, my heart is filled by the love for her. 

She is deeply love, oh so wanted, and forever missed. 

----

 First was a trip back to the KC Zoo for the third year in a row. Nostalgia.

Thank you to these beauties who have gone with me two years in a row. True love. 

And a whole lotta cookie baking and decorating. Because thanking the people who had a role in guiding my pregnancy and bringing Addalyn into this world will never get old. I'm forever grateful.

And The Cheesecake Factory. Oh yes, cheesecake!

When I was in labor, my dad brought us lunch from The Cheesecake Factor.  I have eaten the very same meal on 3.18 for three years in a role...including the potstickers which I don't really even like. But not ordering them was not an option. 

And a special thanks to my dear friend for dining with me. I adore her.

And a little balloon sent high into the sky at 7:49am on 3.19.2015 for my Addy from her momma.  She changed me in ways I can't even put into words. I miss her every single day.

And a visit to the L&D Department where I delivered.  Going back to the only place my Addy ever physically was is needed. It is healing and being greeted by birthday and butterfly balloons made the visit all the more special.

{I'll be back to visit again...so sorry I missed some of you!}

 And a small family dinner on the evening of 3.19. A perfect night with my dear family.

Lynli, my niece, took on the role of blowing out Addy's birthday candles.

And to round out the week, another birthday cake made by my grandma and lanterns sent sailing into the clear blue sky. My grandma has made all my birthday cakes and now a cake for my Addy too. She picked the design...a bright yellow sun that says "You Are My Sunshine - Happy 2nd Birthday Addy." Be still my heart. 

Oh Addalyn, you are loved. Deeply and fiercely.

And forever and ever you will be celebrated. 

Happy 2nd Birthday. 

----

And in case you are wondering, the answer is yes. 

Yes, I wore the same outfit almost every day this week. The shirt arrived in the mail from a very dear friend and I could not think of anything better to wear...everyday...but I did wash it.

Happy 2nd Birthday Addalyn Lane:

Addalyn's birthday will forever be a day that brings the greatest joy yet the deepest of sorrow.  

She is well celebrate and will be forever. And ever. 
Happy 2nd Birthday Addalyn Lane. 

Darn You Forgiveness {1 Yr Post Divorce Rant}

Change. Blame my lack of blogging on change.
God bless consistent. Or boring. Or mundane. 
I'd be a-o-k with that but change (although for good) is flooding my world.

One of my roomies moved out and now the other is too...from two to none in one month! 
I changed jobs which resulted in a change of co-workers (obv.), schedule, and wardrobe!
And, I even changed gyms. I had a little moment when I stopped my boxing membership because that placed served me so, so well. Not just in my physical fitness but my emotional well being. Those poor bags took a beating but I always left less angry than when I arrived. 

Change isn't my thing. I am very much a creature of habit but I'm learning to embrace it.


...Back to my actual thoughts that I set out to share...

I remember saying once that I don't believe in divorce. In being naive, it made sense to me that if you loved enough to marry, then you would always love enough to fight to stay married.

Hypocrite much? Indeed.

Because here I am, exactly one year after sitting before a judge, raising my right hand, chin quivering, and hearing what had constituted my completion be flayed into oblivion. I am among the 50% in America. I am exactly who I swore I would never be. That is me, I am one of those.

It still makes my stomach turn to hear the word divorce. Queasy almost. And I despise those forms where you have to circle your marital status. Why can't they just say single or married? Why is it necessary to have to circle "divorced." I know I am divorced people, I still have his last name. I don't need to circle a little word to remind me that my marriage failed. 

It stinks. It hurts. It robs. It devastates. 

To think that my divorce was finalized a full year ago almost seems impossible. I spent the past twelve months separating us, rediscovering me, stabilizing my new reality, and healing in God sized ways. Though there were moments of intense pain, and outright anger (insert anger therapy via those punching bags), deep sadness, and an overwhelming longing for what was supposed to be, the year was rich with healing. Sometimes I am in awe of how good the year unfolded. I am ok. More than ok really. I know that and I recognize how far I have come with the hand that life dealt me. I read once that, "Physiologically, hearts broken from love lost rate among the most stressful life events a person can experience, exceeded in psychological pain only by horrific events such as a child dying." Death of my child and a divorce from the one whom I thought was my forever...simultaneously. Oh what heartache. Praise Jesus that He can redeem when quite literally everything is broken. 

I loved him with all that I was and a part of me will forever. We shared the majority of my life. He was my first and only love. For 12 years, we built us. Over those years, we had real memories. Real memories filled with joy and happiness and warmth. And for that, a part of me will love and care about him forever. It is true. I don't wish him harm or evil or retaliated pain. I pray peace, and healing, and hope for him. The very same I pray for myself. That is hard for others to understand once they know the reality of how we ended. But, I don't need a eye for an eye. I don't need him to know compensated pain. 

Instead, I want to get to a place of genuine forgiveness.
But, that's just it. I want to get to a place of forgiveness. 
Not merely uttering words but a transformation so deep that it frees.
I am not there. Bits and pieces. But fully, 100%, no hold backs, unhinged, all-in-forgiven, no.

Shouldn't forgiveness follow repentance? Shouldn't it go hand and hand with the words "I am sorry." Shouldn't, wouldn't, couldn't? I can justify, rationalize, and validate until pigs fly. It is a work in progress. Some of the most raw memories are so drowned in deceit that it makes forgiveness a struggle. Despicable and wrong and a blatant selfishness. When those memories surface, a pain wells up so strong that I have had to literally utter, "Aly, you are ok." I have to hear it to believe it when my mind is so lost in the reality of the choices made. 

Jesus Himself commanded the Pharisees to cast the first stone at a woman caught in adultery if only they were without sin. And he commanded not only forgive but to forgive seventy times seven times. And in the sermon on the mount, there is that nice little section about loving your enemies. That is right, those who persecute you. 

Oh forgiveness, darn you. 
Someday. Someday I believe that it will come. 

----

"Feelings take time to heal after the choice to forgive is made...we acknowledge that it hurt, that it mattered, and we choose to extend forgiveness to those who hurt us. This is not saying, 'It didn't really matter', it is not saying, 'I probably deserved part of it anyway.' Forgiveness says, 'It was wrong. Very wrong. It mattered, hurt me deeply, and I release you. I give you to God.' It might help to remember that those who hurt you are also deeply wounded themselves. They were broken hearts, broken when they were young, and they fell captive to the Enemy....This doesn't absolve them of the choices they made, the things they did. It just helps to let them go - to realize that they are shattered souls themselves."  
- Captivating (Written by John and Stasi Eldredge)

---

Just keeping it real. 

Abby Is Going Global...

Last January, I acquired not one but two roommates. I had been living solo in my home for about five months when two of my little sisters asked if they could move in. One was starting her career and the other completing an internship prior to her college graduation.

I wasn't a fan of living on my own but was just starting to feel accustomed to my new reality. I wasn't sure if I was ready to take on roommates...after all I was in the midst of a divorce and had just endured the first of the holidays without my daughter. I could barely take care of myself let alone two of my little sisters. And that was that, despite being 21 and 23, I still saw them as little. I envisioned our living situation more as me having to parent them and Lord knows parenting myself was all consuming.

The last time we had lived together, I was 22 and they were 15 and 18 so for all intent and purposes, they were still 15 and 18 to me. Nonetheless, knowing there were spare rooms at my home, they both moved in in January.

It was about a week in when we had an in depth discussion about finances that I realized they were indeed adults! I remember it being a dose of reality for me to view them as grown people despite calling them 'little girls.'

It has been nothing but goodness having them in my space. Audrey works the night shift so she is around less but Abby and I have sorta become two peas in a pod. She is calm, laid back, and relaxed and perhaps I am the opposite. But luckily, she just goes with whatever crazy idea I conjure. She is always up for a challenge, an adventure, a self timer picture, or a deep conversation.

We meal plan, grocery shop, and cook together. She decorates, crafts, and gardens with me. Together we get our fitness on, running our first 5k and our first half! We pretty much share the craft room and our closets. When I proposed the idea to bake and decorate a bazillion cookies in honor of my Addy's first birthday or changed the flower arrangements a bazillion more she embraced it. When I chopped my finger instead of a veggie, she calmly accompanied me to get stitches. When I thought it to be a good idea to paint my room she grabbed a roller and politely required me to just buy furniture already. When my spirit gets down or I feel that little sting from life, she accepts my tears and reminds me how far I have come. She puts notes that make me smile in my lunch box and hangs motivating signs around the house. But more than that, she is my pew mate on Sunday mornings and my nightly devotional wind down companion. She is optimistic, encouraging, and chalked full of hope. She is calm by nature but down right hilarious and has dance moves for days. She is a dreamer and she radiates her faith.

It will be quiet around these parts for a few months because Abby's moving to Uganda.
She has been an unexpected blessing.

As much as I will miss her, it brings me great joy to watch her live out her passion. It was never a question of if Abby would find herself abroad but when she would be lead. This is her time. He is going to use her in big ways and her spirit is oh-so ready.

 

As her big sister, I am so proud of her because where He leads, she follows. 

There are big, big things in store for her.

 -----

And sidenote: 

It is good thing I will still have Audrey living with me because she too makes me happy...I'm just going to need her to work a whole lot less...extra shifts are overrated. 

Three of my little sisters have all lived in this house so I am just waiting for the youngest to take her turn! Come on already!

And Abby, your room will be waiting for you upon your return.

 #roomiesforlife #seriously

The Sacred Search...

News Flash...I still know not a darn thing about dating.

Well, other than it is down right terrifying.

#CanIGetAnAmen  #FromSomeoneWhoIsActuallyInTheDatingWorld

In high school, I was not an athlete. I could not hold or carry a tune nor do I have any right to be on a stage. So, I guess my thing was studying. How pathetic does that sound? It's true though. I focused on my grades and I spent a lot of time studying. Such was true in college too. Of my fondest college memories, were my times spent with one of my very best friends cramming at the library...usually with a pizza, lots of diagrams, diet coke, and a whole lot of laughter.

Given that I know not a darn thing about dating, I decided it was time to start studying. 
To prepare...myself and my very tender heart. If that is even possible. 
At least to read up on the subject matter.  

Insert the most happiest of dances when I borrowed the book The Sacred Search.

Twas' so good! I read parts aloud for my roomie (God bless her sweet and patient soul), added post-it notes to about every other page, summarized sections for anyone who would listen, and then ended up ordering my very own copy.  I mean honestly, this book had me looking at my failed marriage from about 29,302,435,438 angles and left me feeling...dare I say...somewhat excited about my future spouse. I know right!

Since we are looking ahead and not behind, I'll spare the ways in which I analyzed my past but give ya the two things that keep replaying in my head from my read. Really, it's 4,839,483 things but you just gotta read it for yourself {if you are unmarried that it..but if you are not, he does write on marriage and parenting but I can't speak to those just yet}. 

Let's do this...

Marry someone who you want your children to become. 

Um, yes. It makes perfect sense. Character, drive, integrity, spirit. If you don't want your future littles to grow up to become like your potential spouse, red flag.  How have I never considered this? Noted.

Marry for who the person is and not for who you intend for them to become. 

Sounds odd, but again it just clicked.  Someday they will or someday they won't.  "Someday they will share my ___ {faith, desire for a family, vision for the future} they are just in a season of uncertainty." "Someday they will outgrow or stop ______." Friends, someday may never come. If it is important, don't compromise because you see potential, you have history, or because you expect it from them. Marriage is not a magic wand. They may "never come around" because it is not who they are. Marry for who they are and not who you think they can be, should be, or will become. Again, duly noted.

And the last chapter of the book was about having your bestie prescreen all potential dates. 

It's her roll to wean out all the creepers, if ya will. 
{That part was just in the abridged version in my head, but I'm down if someone takes on the dirty work for me.}

 Anyone have any other good reads they recommend? 
Study up and let's do this!

Ushering in 2015...

2014.

It came in like a wrecking ball...ha. I couldn't help myself.

Oh 2014, forever the year most notably marked by the ending of my marriage and the word that still makes my stomach churn...divorce.  But, much to my surprise, 2014 brought it's A game.  Big things happened. Big, big things and a whole lot of healing. 

The top six events that made 2014 good for the soul:

 (in chronological order because duh, #TypeA)

1. 

I acquired roomies! 

I wasn't sure how the transition from suddenly living on my own to suddenly having two of my sisters living with me would go. But as it turns out, it has been a huge blessing.

2. 

Addy's Birthday Party

A day marked by sadness was filled with joy as my family and friends gathered to celebrate my beloved daughter. Forever celebrated she will be.

3. 

Girls Trip to the Rocky Mountains

The tranquility of the open, hiking, rafting, and just being together did my heart good.

 (well maybe not the rafting part)

4.  

Operation Smile

Um, I went to the Philippines. It was undoubtedly a trip I will never forget. I am still in awe of the way in which it came together. 

5.  

My Biggest Brother got Married

It was a big day. A big day that came for them and I could not be more proud. 

Welcome to our crazy fam, Chase. 

6.  

We ran a half!

We started from ground zero, as in being able to run 0 miles, and completed all 13.1! 

What a good year it was indeed! 

------

I'm not big on New Year's Resolutions. For me, it is just one more area to judge my worth based on my own standards. And I am certain I would start strong but inadvertently fail. Rather than a list of musts, I dream big with my yearly bucket list. There is no failing when it comes to the bucket list, just dreams that I focus on before my next birthday. If they don't pan out, I don't fail. If they do, I celebrate.

In place of a resolution, I pick a word. For 2014, it was hope. To seek out and reflect on how hope was prevailing. And it sure did.  The word for 2015 that keeps coming to mind is intentional. With my time, with my resources, and with my relationships, I want to be intentional.  Present, aware, and invested.

Here is to 2015.

Bring it.