A Dream Day

Though miles may lie between us, we're never far apart, for friendship doesn't count the miles, it's measured by the heart. 

Living in Arizona has it's perks, and it also has it's downfalls. Most days. being so far away from my family doesn't get to me, but when I hear a funny joke or have something exciting to share, a phone call or a text message just doesn't always cut it. Loneliness creeps in, settles deep in the pit of my stomach, and my heart begins to ache for those I truly miss.

During the recent years that have passed, a few relationships in my life seem to have grown, blossomed into something beautiful. Two special people hold a big piece of my heart, and the miles between us make my heart grow fonder of the memories we make each time we're reunited. Brandi-Lyn and Tami are not just my nieces, but two of my closest confidants and best friends.

I can't recall exactly why, or when, but one day I woke up thinking of Brandi. With a smile, I relished in how much better my life has become now that she's a permanent part of it. Family doesn't always mean you're close to someone; honestly, I'd admit to having a stronger bond with a select few of my friends than I do most of my blood relatives. Family does mean you're connected for life, and what you choose to do with that connection is entirely up to you. I'm glad one day Brandi picked up the phone an called me on her way home from work, we wouldn't be where we are today if she hadn't.

Picking up where we left off, filling in the bits and pieces along the way-those are my favorite things about my relationship with Tami. There was a time when people thought Tami and I were sisters, we were so close, almost inseparable. Braving the halls of Lakeshore High School together can make or break a friendship, and through our trials and struggles, we grew closer than ever. Years later, I know no matter how many miles separate us, how long it's been since we've last talked, she'll always be there when I need her

To be with two people who know me so completely, and accept me for every fault I've ever done, it takes my breath away. Where I'm going and where I've been are reflected in the relationships I hold with these to inspirational women. With Brandi, I think of the person I want to be. Strong, beautiful, independent, and spontaneous, she takes chances, says what she feels, and learns from her experiences. Tami reminds me of myself, who I am and who I used to be. I've grown with Tami in such a way she can read my thoughts by just looking at me from across the room. We have the same laugh, the same color hair, and the hours we've spent together are countless. 

During my visit home, I was able to visit with both Brandi and Tami, miraculously, at the same time. The stars aligned just right and the three of us, along with our children, managed a lunch together and an afternoon at the beach. To say it was one of my dreams come true just doesn't do justice to the love and happiness I felt in my heart that day. 

Snapping photographs, reminiscing about the old days, and promising to visit again soon, the friendships between us are as good as anyone else's. I can recall the laughter, the comfortable silence, the hugs and teh smiles passed between us, and I'm reminded we're closer than friends: we're family. Breathing in the fresh air, spreading out a blanket in the sand, and creating memories only our hearts can capture, our bond is one no one can break.

Beached Pirates

During our years of living in Michigan, we spent our fair share of time wandering the streets of downtown Saint Joseph. Starting in 2004, and each year there after, local artists have painted a different themed item, and the city strategically placed them all over the downtown area. This year the theme was pirates, and I had the pleasure of checking almost all of them out with some of my favorite people-my sister and her kids!

The Crew!

Me!

Godmother & Goddaughter

Seahorses. 4eva

Laila and Mommy

Stopping for a smooch!

I swear this guy was the "South Bend Shovel Slayer"
*reference Home Alone*

Lovins!

God Bless, America!

Joshua, Cora, and Dawn

How you 'doin?

We had such a great time! I chose just a few of my favorite photos from the afternoon, I ended up with a ton! I'm so glad we were able to have such fabulous weather and Dawn, Joshua, and Cora were able to spend the day with us!

It's Due Time

It has been close to two full months since my last blog post. I've fallen off the daily photo posts completely, and I'm not sure I'm prepared to start again. My life has been hectic, to say the least. This week has been consumed with routine, taking two weeks out of our daily grind to visit Michigan and be constantly on the go, it wiped us out. I'm happy to report the kids seem to be back to normal, bedtime has been pushed back 30 minutes, but then again, it's summer, and I'm feeling generous.

I've put off blogging for so long, I'm nervous and unsure where to begin. The topic list I've made keeps growing, and my ambition to write is dwindling away minute by minute. I've always believed that some things are better left unsaid. Unless you're me. Then you open your heart and soul to the world wide web and hope your readers never bring up the skeletons that came pouring out of your closet when you open up your soul.

December 4, 1997 was the day my mom died. Since that day, I can count on less than 10 fingers the number of times I've been to the cemetery to visit her grave. Each time I go, I feel a little more distant, and a lot more guilty. The disconnect has been prevalent since my first visit, she's not there for me, that's not her buried under the grass, she's somewhere else: so when the sobs took over my body during my last visit, and I couldn't catch my breath, I was just as surprised as the next person.

The choice to visit was mine, even if it was on a whim. I knew if I didn't commit, right then and there, another handful of years would slip through my grasp, and the chance to prove to myself I was strong enough to return would be lost again. I'm still not sure how it happened, but before I realized what I had said, the words flew out of my mouth just as quickly as the trees passed by the car window. As we pulled up, I was calm, collected, confident even. I had a stern talk with myself, I was prepared for the weeds, the overgrowth of grass, the informal feel and the caution I would take as I walked past the graves of others. I took my time, slowed my breathing, tiptoed through the sun's rays and found my mom. No sooner did I sit down did my stomach hit the back of my throat. I was instantly choked up, sobbing uncontrollably, completely broken.

The minutes felt like hours as I brushed the sand off the gravestone. I did my best to remove the weeds, I know my mom wouldn't have liked to see it messy. The thoughts in my head were so entangled, I needed to slow down and remember: for me, and for her. I felt panicky, rushed, and nervous as I tried to recall every last detail I could, from the color of her hair to the way her skin felt when I held her hand during those final days. I felt so trivial, sitting there crying over something I had long since let go of. The pain in my heart was real, it still is; some days the hurt is so great it cripples me. Those are the days I remind myself she's with me. My mom isn't just a name on a grave stone, she's the smell of warm chocolate chip cookies fresh out of the oven, she's the green of my daughter's eyes, and my inspiration to be everything to my kids that she didn't live long enough to be for me.

As I sat in the passenger's seat of the car, relief took place of my tears. I persevered, and I know that makes her proud.