A Million Little Thank You's

Families-the people we turn to, to both lose and regain our sanity. The craziest people on the planet. The steady promise that love exists that does not bear conditions.

Families are proof that God has a sense of humor. They are the people who stand by your side. They are a reminder that you don't have to carry all the burdens of the world alone. They are the ones who cheer you on during your moments of triumph and they will hold your hand during the bitterness of defeat and whisper in your ear, "Together, we will get through".

Your family will see you at your absolute worst and your absolute best. They won't ask you why you haven't washed your hair in four days or even mention that you may have wore the same sweatpants and hoodie for an entire weekend, straight. They tell you if you're in desperate need of an eyebrow waxing. They keep your extensive Barbie collection a secret. They love you regardless of the fact that you can kinda be a whiny asshole.

Your family will fight with you. They will tell you how it is. They will call you on your bullshit. They will do everything in their power to help fulfill your hopes and dreams. They will sometimes say awful things to you that they don't necessarily mean. They forgive. They don't judge you when you call the cute little old lady that cut you off in traffic obscenities that would make a sailor blush. They know your quirks- the oddities that would otherwise cause them to commit homicide if they didn't love you so much.

Their pain is your pain. Their happiness, in turn, is also yours.

Their love is all encompassing.

A beautiful disaster.

A glorious mess.

Just because someone shares your blood, does not make them family and just because they don't, doesn't mean they aren't. Your family consists of the people who choose to be there for both the good and the bad.

So on this Thanksgiving day, a million little thank you's to my family. Every single day, you are all my greatest blessings.

We Fight To Hold On, We Fight To Let Go.....

On October 29th, 2008 Ethan Whitesel's life ended.

On that day a piece of my soul died right along with him.

Six years have passed. How in the hell have six years passed?

It seems like both a lifetime ago and just yesterday.

Somewhere in the midst of grief and anger and sadness and despair, I have found something that I never thought possible. I have found peace.

I have made peace with the fact that he is gone. I still hate that fact but I do accept that a higher power had better plans for my brother and I have to trust in that. That is what gets me through the toughest of days.

The funny thing about peace is that it is, at times, fleeting. Finding peace is not an all encapsulating sense of enlightenment.  I still question why Bubba was taken so soon. There are days that I am still mad as hell about it and days where his death seems so senseless but I have also discovered that, that's the good thing about it. God can handle my anger and resentment. He can handle my questioning His reasoning. He can even handle when I turn my back on Him. So in finding peace I have also been able to reestablish my faith.  Even in death, Ethan helps me find my way.

He was my best friend, my mentor, my advocate, my cheerleader, my rival, my frustration, and my hope.

I miss him every day. That will never change.

He taught me to be a better person. To be a little reckless. To forgive quickly (I suck at this one). To see the best in everybody (I also suck at this one). To say what's on your mind (I don't suck at this one).  Most importantly, he taught me to live the hell out of today because we are promised nothing in this life, not even tomorrow.

Never forget to tell people you love them. Take the time to laugh. Look at something and see its true beauty. Get excited about the little things. Leave the dishes in the sink and go do something fun....they'll be there when you get back. Drink some Crown Royal. Find your passion and indulge it. Read a good book. Live in the moment. Sing...loudly and off tune, if at all possible. Make sure you're friends with some weirdos-these are the people that make life truly worthwhile.

People are going to remember you for your spirit and the way you lived your life.......Make sure you're living it right

On October 29, 2008, Ethan Whitesel's life ended.....His story did not.

Rest Well, Big Brother, Rest Well.

Bitter, Party Of One.....

He was an adventure. A breath of fresh air in the monotonous routine that my life had become. He made me laugh. He made me think. He made me realize that the world had so much more to offer than the little corner of it that I occupied.

He was also a lesson.

Unfortunately, some lessons in life are more pleasant than others.

Sometimes people aren't who they say they are.Sometimes people hurt others and have virtually no remorse for it. I made the choice to cut all ties, he handed me the scissors. Even now, I have to remind myself of this.

It doesn't make it any easier.

I miss the good times. I try to forget about the bad. The bad times do not define me, they, however, speak volumes about him.

It may not have turned out the way I hoped but I am sure one day (Not today) I will look back and think of him and smile and maybe even thank him for letting me be a part of his crazy world for just a little while but again, not today.

This too shall pass. I was fine before I met him. I will be fine again. Forever changed but fine, none-the-less.

Just because you love someone does not mean they are meant to remain in your life and perhaps, that is the cruelest of all truths.

To The Greatest Man I know....

Dad:

First off, I just want you to know that every day I hope I make you proud. I know I don't always get things right. I make a lot of mistakes. One day I will get it all figured out and even if I don't I know that you will always be a steady-constant in my life. I know that no matter what, no matter when, no matter where, you will always be there. There is nothing that I could ever say or do that would make you stop loving me...definitely mad enough to consider giving me up for adoption but never stop loving me. Remember, you signed a contract.

You and I are probably the exact definition of polar opposites. You are level-headed and logical.....I am well.....not either of those things. You appreciate my flair for the dramatic and allow me to do things my own way. I know that most times you wonder if we reside on the same planet. You have never once discouraged me from being true to myself and following my dreams. You may have not always understood me but you have always supported my choices. Do you remember when I was in graduate school and I wanted to quit weekly (sometimes daily)? Every time I thought I had reached my breaking point, you talked me down. Told me that one day all the hard work would pay off and eventually it did.

You gave me roots and wings-the greatest gift a dad could ever give his daughter.

Speaking of greatest gifts, thank you for loving my mom, for exemplifying what a healthy relationship looks like. You are our provider, our protector, our hero. You set some pretty high standards that most guys fall short of....thanks a heap for that.

You taught me that if something sounded too good to be true that it probably was and that the overall majority of people in this life are assholes but just because someone was an asshole to me didn't necessarily mean I had to be an asshole back. You taught to stand up for what I believe in even if that sometimes meant I will be standing alone and because of have learned what true strength really is.

You taught me at a young age that I have to work for everything that I want, that nothing in this world will ever be handed to me. I bet you don't know this, but one of my favorite things is when I pull into the farm and I see you sitting in the pasture looking at your family's 133 year-old legacy and smiling like you won the damn lottery. No one would ever know in those moments that you've paid for that farm ten times over with your own sweat, your own blood, and your own tears.

You showed me that living a life of honesty and decency is the true success story.

For all you've done, I could never thank you enough.

Love you the most,

Lou

Today We Remember

Today we remember.

We remember those who have served our country and those who have fallen for our country. All gave some, some gave all. For that we will always be grateful.

Today we remember.

We remember our loved ones who we have lost along the way. Their battles different than our military service men and women, but battles none-the-less.

Today we remember.

We remember their vest for life. We smile at their stories. And if we try real hard, we can still hear their laughter.

Today we remember.

We remember and we hold on like hell to that memory. Regardless of how we lost our loved one, we all have the desire for their legacy to live on. Our greatest fear is that others will forget.

Today we remember.

Like yesterday and the day before that.

Today we remember.

We remember the happy times. We remember the sad times. The sad times make the happy times that much sweeter.

Today we remember.

We remember when we see others who also live every day feeling the vast unfairness of a life lost too soon. We remember as we walk past one another.  We don't have to even speak. A nod of the head and a look towards the ground sends a message in which words could never appropriately convey. Our grief is the same. Our grief is different. Only those who have felt that grief will understand what I am talking about.

Today we remember.

We remember that sometimes we still have to take every day, one at a time. If that becomes too much, we take it an by the hour, by the minute, by the second......Regardless of how long it's been, there are still those times when the grief catches up to us. It is then we revert to the coping mechanisms that got us through the beginning.

Today we remember.

We remember because they would want it that way. They would want us to think of them often but never in sadness.

Today we remember.

Like we could ever forget.



Memorial Day 2014

For All You Are, For All You Do

                                              

Ever since I was little, I have noticed something about my mom. Every day, she has a good time. Every.damn.day.

Life hasn't always been easy for her nor has it been fair.

Yet, she continues to carry on. She continues to laugh. She continues to be strong. For that is all she knows.

She makes the world a little bit better. God knows she makes me a little bit better.

When I say my mom is my best friend, it's not in that cliché way. Okay, a little bit in that cliché way (regardless of how horrible I am being she still has to love me...she signed a contract.) However, even if she weren't my mom, I'd still choose her as my best friend. Even though, she has the ability to drive me absolutely bat shit crazy but there is no one I would rather share my adventures in life with.

She tells it like it is. She has no qualms about calling anyone on their bullshit. You always know where she stands because by golly, she's gonna tell you.

She is beautiful and honest. She is quick witted and smart. She is funny and wise. She loves her family more than anything in this world and may God take mercy on your soul if you hurt one of them.

She is feisty and sassy. Take note, if you ever see ol' G-A-I-L's hand go to her hip and a finger shoot up to your face, friend, you've got a few problems on your hands. Good luck with that.

She is a supporter. A cheerleader. A mediator. A mentor. An advocate.

She looks at everyone in this world and sees their beauty and potential. I now know where Ethan got it.

I hope that one day I can be as strong and comfortable in who I am as she is in herself.

Every day, I hope I make her proud.

I don't know if I'm there yet, but I'm working on it. Promise.

Happy Mother's Day, Momma Whitesel.

Love You The Most!

Coffee Shop Wisdom

If the term, “hell on wheels” could be exemplified in a human form, I think it would be this lady. She was probably in her early 80’s; barely five feet tall and maybe weighed 100 pounds soaking wet. Her face and hands told a story that perhaps she’s had a hard life. The wrinkles around her eyes when she smiled also told of a woman who wasn’t a stranger to happiness.  I don’t know her name. I probably never will.

I had stopped to get a cup of coffee (I take mine black, like my soul) before my shift started at my second job. I had about 30 minutes to kill so I sat down in the back of the shop just to think and clear my head.

“Do you love him, honey?” she said as she plopped down at the empty chair at my table.

She had startled the crap outta me.

“Pardon?” was all I could manage.

“Honey, it’s a simple yes or no question. Do you love him?”

I had to have looked at this women like she had completely lost her mind because let’s be honest, I thought she may have been off her meds.

“I guess I don’t understand the question.” I said.

“I’ve been watching you since you walked in here.” She countered, “I’ve seen that look before. I’ve worn that look before. There are two looks on a woman’s face that only a man can be responsible for: a smile bigger than a Buick and this furrowed eye brow thing you’ve got going on here. If you don’t love him, you at least care a whole lot about him. People that we don’t care about don’t possess that kind of power over us.”

This is the second time in two weeks that I have encountered Ghandi reincarnated as an elderly woman rocking a four-wheeled walker.

I am now just resigned to the fact that I am also going to meet eccentric people in eccentric places that say eccentric things and that’s just how it’s gonna be.

She just stared at me with her arms crossed, as if to dare me not to answer her.

“I guess I don’t know how I feel” was all I replied because quite honestly, this was a complete stranger.

“My advice to you, young lady, is to talk to him. What ever he did, whatever you did,  communication is what is going to make or break you. You've got to communicate. Without put downs, without yelling. Back and forth conversation. Maybe this man will be in your life forever; maybe just a short time. Maybe he is just an adventure. Maybe a lesson. If you think there is a chance that he might be worth it, you have got to fight like hell. If not walk away right now and smile for what it was.  But, honey, trust me, you are solving absolutely nothing by glaring at that coffee. Remember that.”

Quickly changing the subject, because, frankly, that’s a whole lot to process. I asked her about her family. She told me about her kids and grandkids. She told me about her late husband. All with this happiness that even now I can’t really put in to words.

 She asked about my family. I gave her the simplified version. Not wanting to be one of those people that just talks about themselves. I tried to ask more about her but she would have none of that. She insisted that I tell her more about my family. I toId her that my mom and dad are probably my two favorite people ever. I shared with her that my greatest fear on this earth would be to disappoint either of them. That I hope they will always be proud of me and that they respect my decisions even if they don’t always understand them.

She reached across the table and grabbed my hand and said, “Oh, honey, daddy’s aren’t supposed to like the men we choose. It’s their job not to.”

Alright, Teresa Caputo, what the hell is going on?

Unfortunately, I had to cut this conversation short so I could get to work. I apologized for having to leave so abruptly and thanked her. She stood and hugged me.

“Honey, you will figure it out or it will figure itself out,” she shouted as I walked out the door.

Every path we cross is for a reason.

God bless that crazy, beautiful, wise woman.