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You never know just how quickly everything can change for you.
May 2018, my husband graduated with a degree in physics. We went to Disney World to celebrate. June 2018, we moved back to Panama City so I could finish my own degree in peace. October 2018, my life came crashing down around me in the form of a thousand-year storm. October 2018, I fled my wrecked home with all I could fit in my car. October 2018, I thought the worst thing that would ever happen to me had happened. November 2018, my husband was lost to his mind. I lived with a stranger for 18 months while he tried to hang on for dear life. January 2019, I thought…
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“What if I wanted to be a theoretical physicist?”
I’m reminded today of a story that is canon for the Jesse and Sandi saga. Haha. One day when we were dating in high school, I was waiting on Jesse to come out of his digital design elective. When he walked out of the classroom, he looked deep in thought so I asked him what was the matter. He sighed. “What if I wanted to be a theoretical physicist?” I thought this was a strange question. At the time, both Jesse and I wanted to be traveling ministers. You know, go to churches, preach, do the music, etc. “I’ve never heard you express interest,” I said. “You hate trigonometry and you’ve never…
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Sort of like a “hello darkness my old friend” kind of scenario.
“So, how are you?” My therapist asks. “I’m alright. I can’t help but see the parallels. I’m getting some tension headaches.” She nods. “The whole country is, on a level, going through what I went through in 2018. And I’m watching it happen like a movie.” “That has to be bringing up some memories.” “It does. It really does.” “You’ve gone through a lot in these past few years. It has to be difficult seeing something like it, on that big scale, happening again.” “I feel well acquainted with grief at this point. You can see it on everyone’s face, you can read it in their Facebook posts, you can…
- blog, history, lifestyle, mental health, parenting, personal development, short story, trauma, Uncategorized
It’s supposed to rain all day tomorrow….
“You want to go to a tree farm in the middle of Alabama?” “Yes,” I replied to my husband. “I need to get out of here and I need to be around trees. Lots of trees.” “And the trees needed to be in … Alabama?” “The trees needed to be within a three hour radius.” “I see,” he sighed, resigned. We pulled up to the colonial home we would be staying in for three days. A large wrap around porch greeted us with porch swings and rocking chairs, the kind of porch you can watch a thunderstorm on and not get wet. The home was surrounded by two ponds and…
- blog, history, lifestyle, mental health, personal development, poetry, short story, trauma, Uncategorized
I’m an artist damn it. And not the starving kind.
“Sounds to me like you’re an artist.” My therapist said. I cringed. “Why did you just do that?” “Do what?” She laughed. “You made a face.” “Oh,” I smiled softly. “I hate that word.” “Why is that?” “I guess I just always thought it sounded so flaky.” “You *always* thought that?” There was a long pause. “Hm.” She said. “Let’s explore that a bit.” “Okay.” “It’s just that you’re a singer, songwriter, pianist, writer, marketer…” She ticked off the list with her fingers. I said nothing. “Sure sounds like an artist to me.” The truth was, there was a lot of baggage that came with that word. Public school for…
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Mommy? Will I have a sickness in my brain like daddy?
Yesterday, we talked to the kids about the virus in depth. We did the little activity where we put black pepper in water and then covered their fingers in soap. When they put their fingers in the water it dispersed the black pepper *germs*. We talked about why we couldn’t visit Granny over Spring Break, why we would be staying home more, why schools were closed. Lorelai then went on her merry way, giggling about washing her hands. But Judah went and sat on the couch, contemplative. I’ve known my son for a while now. Ever since Jesse was diagnosed with a mental illness, we’ve especially kept our eye on…
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You really will be happy again.
“I’m losing my hair.” “What?” “I’m losing my hair!” I cry. I woke up that morning and it was just gone. A small patch of hair right at the front of my scalp just disappeared. So I did what every person shouldn’t do. I googled it. The word “Alopecia” popped up on the screen. “Please see a dermatologist,” was the recommendation. I did. This morning. “Alopecia.” They repeated. “It’s temporary. Have you been stressed?” I smiled and felt like crying. Living and feel like dying. Have I been stressed? Hilarious. Absolutely hilarious. They don’t talk about losing your hair after Hurricanes. They talk about insurance and the triple rent. They…
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There’s something about being Floridian that’s pure magic
I was born in Jackson County, but moved to Bay County, Florida when I was three years old. My earliest memories are of little hands playing in white sugar sand, the uncomfortable feeling of the gritty granules stuck in my bathing suit bottoms. I’m told I was a fish, swimming and diving when I was four years old. I loved riding the waves of the Gulf of Mexico on my little rafts and watching my parents gear up for snorkeling or scuba diving. I never truly understood that I was a Floridian. Not until my parents took us the furthest we had ever been, Rhinelander, Wisconsin for a family reunion.…
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Why the Date June 19th, 1865 Matters More than July 4th, 1776
The United States usually celebrates our day of Independence from tyranny every July 4th. This is, simply stated, to commemorate The Declaration of Independence. However, there is a little known fact about the first draft of The Declaration of Independence; one that puts a damper on our history and makes us say, “hm.” Initially, “The Declaration of Independence” listed 19 total charges against King George III. The 19th charge blamed the King for the horrors of slavery. The original charge: “He has waged cruel war against human nature itself, violating its most sacred rights of life and liberty in the persons of a distant people who never offended him, captivating…
