on regret and remembrance

My grandmother passed away in November of 2014. It was unexpected, it was shocking, and it still catches me off guard. There will be a song or smell or something that will make me remember her and then when I remember her, I remember that she's gone.

Growing up, my grandmother was one of my favorite humans. She had this beautiful house in San Clemente, California that I loved visiting her at. Her house backed up to a golf course and I grew up fishing golf balls out of the bushes, washing them in her bathroom, and selling them back to golfers. She would always collect them for me and encouraged me in my little entrepreneurial efforts.

GT in Waikiki in 1967. 

She would always take me for pie when I would come and visit. It was our little thing. Sometimes we'd eat it in the restaurant and other times we would take it back to her house, eating it in bed while watching television shows like Golden Girls and Unsolved Mysteries. I don't remember what she would order, but I would always get Dutch Apple. I would take pie over cake any day of the week and I think that love started on those pie dates with Grandma. 

My grandma's life turned out to be a lot different than she imagined. She found herself divorced with three young children in the 70's, got remarried in the 80's to the person I grew up knowing as my grandpa and while he was a fun grandpa, he was not a good husband. They divorced and she remarried a childhood friend in the late 90's. He was a safe man, but he was not a warm man. Her marriage with him put somewhat of a wedge between her and her grandchildren. It was not terrible, but he wasn't the easiest or most comfortable man to be around. He was an old cowboy. What he wanted was peace and quiet, which isn't exactly something that grandchildren are great at. 

Years later, they experienced some financial troubles, he developed Dementia, and eventually, she moved in with my parents while he moved into an expensive facility. This happened while I lived in Korea, and I think I resented her a little bit because it was inconvenient, she even moved into my old room. This whole situation did something to me that I'm not proud of- it made me ugly inside. It made me short and generally unkind to my grandma. I wasn't terrible to her, but I wasn't gracious and compassionate with her. I never empathized with her and that's something that makes me so sad. Even as I write this, tears are rolling down my face because I wasted so many opportunities to show God's love to someone that was in such an uncomfortable situation.

GT on her 72nd birthday blowing out the candles on the "Better than Sex" cake she requested. Typical GT.

One of the last times I interacted with my grandma was in October. I had flown to home to go on our annual family vacation to Mexico. The day that I was supposed to fly home, my grandma asked my mom if she could come to the airport with us and take us both out to lunch. I told my mom, privately, that I'd like to see some friends in San Diego and would like to spend some time alone with her instead of sharing that time with my grandma. That was my last interaction with my grandma. She died several weeks after that and all I could think of was how selfish I had been. I was so unwilling to be flexible and to love this person who had always shown me love.

My grandma was a story teller. You mostly never knew if what she was saying was entirely truthful. She loved to exaggerate things and the truth would always become buried in whatever story she was telling. It was something we made fun of and was hilarious, but I think part of it was her desire to believe the best in people. To my grandma, I was the funniest, smartest, most beautiful girl in the world. She believed all of those things. To her, they were biblical truths. 

I'm terrible at impressions, although I like to think I'm the next Dana Carvey. The only impression I can do, that is actually on point, is my impression of Ethel Merman. My grandma loved this impression. It would send her into a giggle fit where nothing could be heard but honks, gasps, and old lady wheezing laughs. I wish that I had the opportunity to do this for her again. It made her so happy, and I didn't spend enough of my time with her trying to make her happy. 

It's been three months since my grandma passed unexpectedly and I'm still not over it. She wasn't old, she wasn't unhealthy, and it just doesn't seem fair that someone should have a stroke and die without there being any warning, without me having the opportunity to wrap my mind around everything. I wanted more time although I didn't even realize that until it wasn't an option any more. 

I'd like to live with no regrets, but at this point in time, I regret so many things about the way I treated my grandma over the past couple years. I regret not loving her as much as I should have and not showing her grace and compassion in the moments where she needed it the most. I know that she knew how much I loved her, but sometimes I wish that I could just remind her. I wish I could thank her for being my biggest cheerleader, believing the best in me at all times, and teaching me that pie was always a good choice. 

vacuums are bad for your emotional health

As I was walking around Target this morning, I found myself staring at the vacuums. For the past two years, I've been borrowing one of the dorm vacuums to use in my apartment. Much to the surprise of no one, these don't work too well. I've cleaned paper out of them, enough bobby pins to provide every human in the world with at least five, and even several socks. I understand sucking up the occasional bobby pin, but a sock? I'm just not sure how that happens.

I just received my tax return back and thought now would be a good time to get a vacuum of my own, one I don't have to share with 175 girls and one that will never suck up a sock, ever. I was reading the labels and comparing brands when I suddenly got overwhelmed with sadness. I realized that I had never thought I'd be buying a vacuum. In my mind, a vacuum was something I always thought I'd receive as a wedding gift or purchase with my husband. I never saw myself being single, twenty seven years old, and buying a vacuum in Target while simultaneously fighting back tears.

That might seem silly to some, but I know that it resonates with others. Don't get me wrong, it's not that I'm unhappy with what my life looks like. I'm not walking around in this perpetual state of sorrow, I'm not putting my life on hold, and really, I'm quite happy most of the time. I think in that moment, as I stared at the row of vacuums, I realized that my life looks different than I thought it would at this age and sometimes that's something that I needed to mourn.

In my young mind, I expected to be married by age twenty seven. For some reason, that age has always been in my head because it's the age my mom had me at. My life looks a lot different at twenty seven that I had anticipated, and I don't want to make it sound like it's a bad thing. It's just a thing. It's just a weird thing that I hadn't expected to think about. When you're younger, you have all of these assumptions about what your future will look like based on what everyone else who is older than you is doing with their life.

I know that there are good marriages, there are bad marriages, and everything in between the two. I don't idolize marriage. I don't have any expectations that marriage makes life so much more rich and fulfilling. I don't think it's this magical thing that happens and then everything is sunshine and rainbows. I know that it's not. I know so many people in wonderful marriages and I have friends who are in bad marriages. It's not about longing for some false belief or expectation for what marriage does, it's about allowing myself to be okay with what I wanted, what I still want, what I do have, and what I don't have.

I know that I'm young. I know that I have so much life ahead of me. I don't write any of this for any sort of reassurance or a compliment. I write this because I found myself genuinely sad as I picked out a vacuum, realizing that I had expectations that weren't met. Most of my friends are married with children. It's hard to not sometimes feel left behind when people surrounding you are experiencing these things that you want and that your heart truly desires. Maybe it feels so real and potent today because it's raining, or maybe it's because I just had a lovely weekend and came back to real life yesterday, or maybe it's because sometimes there's a disconnect between, I want and what I have, and I had to be a little sad about it.

I did end up buying a vacuum. I got some brand that was on sale that promised to rid my entire house of all pet hair. I don't have any pets, but I do have a ton of hair so I figure it's pretty much the same thing. I'm going to put it together in a few minutes and then I'm going to vacuum. I'll be so excited about a clean floor that I won't even remember my little existential crisis in Target. Or, I'll just end up crying over all the pieces of the vacuum that need to be put together and never end up actually vacuuming. You never know, it is a rainy Tuesday after all.

thou shall not stress

Recently, I've been feeling more stress than normal. It's not that there's more stress in my life, it's that it's been manifesting itself in a more real way than it does previously. Wanna know how I know this? GRAY HAIRS. Come on. I'm not even twenty seven. This whole gray hair business is just downright unfair. I should be able to bill the universe for costly salon visits. Instead of sending invoices tied to balloons, I've my extensive experience of being stressed to come up with a little list that's more helpful than balloons. Unless it's popping balloons- that always works.

1. Take a bath.

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I'm a HUGE bath person. I take baths on the reg and love it. It's not my go to way of cleaning myself because let's be real, it's a dirty little pool. I'm a huge fan of showering and then bathing (can't be too clean) or just drawing up a hot bath and soaking till I'm a little old prune. Adding epsom salts or bath bombs (from Lush, for sure) is a great way to draw out toxins or just have a really delicious smelling bath. Just beware- Lush's bath bombs can usually turn your tub super fun colors, but you'll probably want to clean it afterwards. My whole tub was purple last night, but I was completely relaxed. I'd call that a win.

2. Lavender Oil

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I can't sing the praises of Lavender Oil loudly enough. I swear by this stuff. I keep a roller ball of lavender and carrier oil in my purse at all times just in case I can sense myself getting anxious or stressed. When that happens, I put a little oil on my hands, rub it together, and then cup my nose breathing deeply a handful of times. It's become part of my daily life and sometimes it's just because it smells so dang good. Every night before bed, I rub the oil on my feet (your feet have such large pores on them so it just soaks this stuff up!) and put some right under my nose so I can smell it as I go to sleep. I have trouble falling asleep and it's been really helpful in lulling me to sleep in such a gentle way.

3. Dance It Out

There is nothing better than a quick dance party to (literally) shake it off. Whether you're alone or with a friend, I recommend cranking up the jams (I'm so hip with the hoppin' lingo) and dancing like an absolute fool. There's something seriously cathartic about a quick dance party. Some of my favorite dance jams are "Brave" by Sara Bareilles (especially if you're stressed or anxious about a situation!), "Octohate" by Ryn Weaver (gotta give old friends a little lovin'), or "Boom Clap" by Charli XCX. There's something about each of those songs that makes me tap my toes and and shake my groove thang.

4. Text "Your Person."

Yes, another Grey's reference, but come on, how could I not? My sister Camille is my person. We're similar in so many ways, but she's more outspoken and brave than I am in a lot of situations. I appreciate it so much because she can pull me out of stressful or emotional situations and remind me to have some perspective. She's also good at calling things like she see's them. When I'm stressed or scared, she's one of the first people I turn to because she's good at listening but also good at making me laugh and reminding me that everything really is going to be okay.

5. Journal

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I believe in the power of writing. It helps me process through everything in my life, whether it be school, work, friends, or whatever. One of my favorite aspects of journaling is being able to go back through these little autobiographies and see just how faithful God has been. I remember journaling regularly in South Korea and speaking a lot of fears and stresses into those pages, but towards the end, everything came full circle. Writing through everything helps me keep things in perspective which is really helpful when I can easily succumb to an "EVERYTHING IS BROKEN AND WILL NEVER BE FIXED AGAIN" mentality. Some call that being a drama queen, I call it being a "feeler."

So next time, instead of weeping softly into peanut butter chocolate ice cream (WE HAVE ALL BEEN THERE), pick one of these little tips and let the stress roll off your back.

home sweet home

I absolutely love seeing little sneak peaks into other people's homes, call me nosy, but there's just something so interesting about seeing how others have made their spaces their own. I've had the intention of sharing my space for a while, but I've always put it off hoping that things would become more complete and "share ready." I was contacted recently by Urban Compass about a project they've started called "Starter Stories." They've been sharing different people's starter homes, tips for creating a home, and information on how they found their places. Urban Compass is a website that helps connect people with homes/apartments in New York city based on their tastes and hobbies. You can find their neighborhood guide here where you can peruse different NYC neighborhoods and find information on what the culture of that area is like as well as what makes that specific area unique. I've always had this fantasy of living in New York (in a Brownstone of course!) so now I have a great resource in case that pipe dream ever comes true!

I've lived in my tiny little apartment for over a year now and it's amazing to me how quickly it felt like home when I moved in. I've never really had a place of my own before because I went from living with my parents, to moving to college, to moving to South Korea, to an intentional community house, to this little apartment inside of a residence hall. I guess I had my own place in South Korea, but it was smaller than a studio apartment inside of a high rise building and while it was comfortable, I knew that it was always for a short period of time which kept me from really nesting.

While this is technically "my own place" it's also technically not. You see, I'm a Resident's Director for freshman girls. I share my home with over 170 other girls, but I have my own self sufficient apartment on the first floor. I knew when I got this job that my life would be crazy so it was super important to me to have my personal space be calm, clean, and representative of who I am. It needed to be a place where I could recharge.

This is one of my favorite pieces in my house because there's all sorts of treasures on it!

I feel like I've been able to pull that off fairly well considering that I'm limited on the aesthetic changes that I can make to the apartment and also considering that I operate on a very strict budget (student loans are a doozy, am I right?). When I first moved into my apartment all I had (furniture wise) was a kitchen table, a mattress, a coffee table, and some second hand couches that had been gifted to me. The couches were in pretty bad condition and so one of the first things I did was start lurking on Craigslist to see if I could find anything I liked for a decent price. What I learned from that experience was that couches are crazy expensive and people have very different interpretations of the word vintage. I ended up finding this set that I liked for a decent price and purchased it right away. It's not my favorite pattern, but it's clean, the pieces are comfortable, and I got a screaming deal on them.

My best friend and I quickly scheduled a trip to Ikea and I began researching pieces I'd want. Ikea's website is awesome because you can put in which store you'll be purchasing from and they'll tell you exactly what aisle/section your goods are in. It helped me to not get overwhelmed by that giant Swedish Disneyland and to make sure that I kept within my budget.

One thing that I learned through this experience of creating a little home was that it doesn't happen overnight. You accumulate things, you find treasures, and you slowly add to your growing little nest. It's fun to look around this space and see different things that have been gifted to me or thrifted and be able to have a story to tell. There were pieces that I wanted in my home that were far outside of my budget (here's looking at you West Elm!) so I did my best to recreate them or find cheaper substitutes.

My favorite places to shop throughout this process have been local thrift stores like the DI, Savers, and Goodwill, Etsy, Ikea, and Target. If I had a billion dollars, I may have picked everything from Anthropologie, West Elm, and Pottery Barn, but I don't have that sort of income and I'm quite pleased with my budget friendly little abode. I've learned that a house is not made overnight, and while you can stuff your space full of beautiful things, that doesn't necessarily make a home. My favorite things about my home aren't necessarily the cute yellow barstools that I got for my birthday (although I do love them!), or the print of my favorite lyrics that I found on Etsy, but the people that have come through my home and created memories here. That's what I love most about my little starter home.

wednesday wanderings

I realize the title of this implies that I posted this on Wednesday, but it's a little misleading. I am definitely posting this on Thursday morning, but my intent was to post yesterday, so let's roll with it.

These past couple of weeks have been tough. My grandmother passed away unexpectedly last week. I'm still trying to process it all. Instead of sharing my own thoughts right now, I wanted to share some others that I've stumbled across. I have several friends that do posts like this and I love that I get pointed all over the internet. So now, I present to you, Wednesday Wanderings which maybe at some point in time will actually be posted on a real Wednesday.

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If you read one thing this week, read THIS. My dear friend Samantha from Little Petunia in an Onion Patch wrote an incredible post on the word "bitch" and it is my favorite thing ever. I sometimes feel this disconnect between wanting to be a strong, independent woman and also loving a little bit of tradition. It's almost like we're told that as women, we can't do both of those things. We have to choose. Well, Sam rips that to shreds and I'm just standing in front of my computer slow clapping. Get it girl.

Have you seen the trailer for "The Theory of Everything" yet? Do yourself a favor, watch the trailer and then get your booty to the theater and see the movie. I saw it last night and oh my goodness, it's incredible. It takes a lot for me to actually pay to see a film, but I'm so glad I made the investment to see this movie. If Eddie Redmayne isn't nominated for an Academy Award, then this whole entire world is rubbish. This movie was all over the board- I laughed, I cried, I got super angry, I laughed again, and then I just wept like a little baby. Isn't that the best kind of movie?

My big brother is a fancy pants chef in Seattle and was featured in this article a couple of days ago. He's the chef at a restaurant called Skillet that specializes in modern American comfort food but with a ritzy glitzy twist. When I go to the restaurant, I always let him order for me and I've yet to be disappointed. Grilled cheese (brie, american, AND cheddar) on brioche toast with bacon jam and a fried chicken thigh? Oh brother bear, you have outdone yourself. Everything on the menu is tops. If you're in Seattle, go see him and eat till you need a nap.

Also, ModCloth is having a huge sale on dresses. Excuse me while I go spend my entire paycheck. Go do the same so I don't feel as guilty please.

PEACE & BLESSINGS YA'LL

when it's time to say goodbye

I'm the type of person who likes their friends to be lifelong. Once you're in my life, with few exceptions, I want you to stay there. I've always been this way. I blame my mother and love of relationships for this rosy outlook on friendship.

I've never really been bullied. I mean, there were definitely girls who were mean to me, but I don't remember it being even a fraction of what kids are experiencing today. I remember Whitney picking on me at Winter Retreat. Ironically enough, it was a church camp and she was in my small group.

I've only had a "friend break-up" once and it was mostly just me taking a break. This person and I had been friends for over ten years. I loved this person, but it seemed like our friendship became something I tended to out of obligation. There wasn't much joy left in it. I felt guilty for the fact that things were different. I felt guilty for liking my life while knowing how unhappy this person was. Maybe those are things I projected onto them, but every time their name came onto my screen, I felt uncomfortable. I was always bracing myself for what came next. We finally talked and I explained that things just felt different and I was sorry that they were that way, but I wasn't sure what to do. This person and I, once inseparable, took big steps back from each other. We still have a relationship, but it's nowhere near what it was when we were younger. We see each other sometimes and to be honest, occasionally it feels obligatory, but I feel heaps healthier, mentally and emotionally, than I did when we were in the thick of it.

I met someone a while back who quickly became a good friend. We naturally clicked and I was grateful for this new addition to my life. About a year or so into the relationship, this person became a little snippy with me. It wasn't anything huge or devastating, but it was enough to where it felt strange. I brushed it off and attributed it to stress. It didn't happen again for a while, but then it did. It made me feel so small each and every time it happened. Things got better, seemed back to normal. We spent time together. We laughed. I felt connected to this person again. Then, the snapping, the snide comments, the shortness all started happening more frequently. There weren't the gaps in it that there used to be. It was hard to shake off. It was and is currently also very hard not to internalize. I'm far more sensitive than people can usually tell. I get my feelings hurt pretty easily, but I'm also able to bounce back quickly. My ability to bounce back with this person got harder and harder. It's like I was a stretched out rubber band. I lost my elasticity. I was getting worn out. I didn't really like who I was around this person. I felt more guarded, more aware of everything about myself, and it was incredibly stressful.

It finally came to a breaking point the other night.

I realized, after being hurt again, that this would be the new normal. This was becoming standard. I know that people go through seasons and sometimes we need to journey alongside people who maybe aren't being the biggest rays of sunshine, but this was different. This "friendship" was causing me more stress and anxiety than any other relationship in my life. That's not a friendship.

I've made a conscious decision to step back from this person. It doesn't need to be dramatic, it doesn't need to impact anyone other than the two of us, but it has to happen. It needs to happen. My health, my emotions, and my spirit depend on it. There comes a time in some relationships, I'm learning, where it is best to say goodbye. Sometimes it will come quickly and sometimes it will come years into the relationship. There's nothing useful in holding on to something that's broken. It just gets more frustrating as you clutch that broken thing wondering why it isn't working and how come it can't be fixed. Sometimes you just have to say goodbye to it. Move past it.

I'm learning that I'm worth protecting and keeping people in my life who do nothing but bring me down is not a good way of living. One of the biggest blessings in my life has been the quality of relationships that I've been lucky enough to make. I have truly hit the jackpot with friends. I'm so grateful for those relationships because they show me what friendships should be like.

Have you ever had to say goodbye to a friend? What did you do?

you'll need each other

"Hey friend, what are you doing right now?" I knew when she asked this that she wouldn't let me get out of pretending to be too busy to talk. Having friends that are counselors is sometimes the best thing and other times, it's really hard. This was one of the hard moments. We walked back to my apartment, parked ourselves in the office, and she asked how I was doing.

"I'm good, you know, just trying to get everything done." I forced a little smile, hoping that it might convince either of us.

"How's school going?," she asked. That's when I felt the thread snip, that little tiny thread that felt like it was holding it all together. I explained that I was overwhelmed academically. I talked about my internship, and although I've got three hundred hours under my belt, finishing these last hundred hours seems like a monumental task. I mentioned that I felt like I was struggling to keep my head above water right now.

School tumbled into work which then snowballed into life in general. I opened up about how I felt like I had been a bad friend recently, unable to make and keep plans with people because somehow school or work kept popping up. I explained, through tears, that I just felt isolated.

There are many words people would use to describe my job, but I doubt isolating would be one of them. You see, I live my life surrounded by 173 college freshman. I'm rarely alone, but for some reason, I've felt isolated in the midst of all these people.

My dear friend, bless her heart, reminded me of a very similar conversation we had two years ago, but where the roles were reversed. I remember sitting on the floor with her at our friends house as we were surrounded by bowls of lukewarm water, the idea of a girls pedicure night forgotten because life interrupted us. I remember her crying; she had just gotten married, was finishing up her Master's, and was working in the same department as myself but just felt so off balance. She talked about feeling isolated even though she was rarely alone. I remember not really identifying entirely, but sympathizing.

I have this really bad habit of retreating into myself when things feel off balance or peculiar. I hope that I can pull myself out of the slump or combat the feelings alone, but that doesn't work as well or as quickly as connecting with someone else. I have a hard time crying in front of people, which is strange seeing as how crying is practically my love language. I just don't want my problems to burden others, which is so silly because that's not a real thing. I tell my residents that on a regular basis. They are not a burden. It is a joy to go through life with others because we get to be there for the good, the bad, the hard, and the easy.

I've seen this print floating around the internet and I just love it. It's a great reminder for me to not retreat into myself, but to remember that we need each other. Even though that conversation with my friend was hard, and I tried to avoid it, I'm glad we had it. I felt better as soon as I started naming what had been burdening me. I know that it was helpful for her too because, whether I like it or not, she loves me and wants to be a part of the good and the bad.

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