I miss Chad today.

Today is his birthday.  He would have turned 39.

He would have.... That is the part that doesn't make sense to me.  The "would have."  The use of the conditional tense to signify that something might have taken place in the past.  The surrender of using his action in the present or the future.  That is what almost six weeks has still not allowed me to understand.


Chad was my cousin.  He was the oldest on my mom's side.  While that might not mean a lot to most people, my family is the center of my world.  I'm closer to my aunts, uncles, and cousins than many of my friends are to their parents and siblings.  They make my world make sense.  That is why losing Chad has been so hard to comprehend.  I'm still not sure how the world is supposed to function without such a key player.

He was the oldest of our generation.  I'm the baby.  I came around at just the right time for him to be such an influence on me.  He wasn't too cool for me when I was little.  He wasn't a kid anymore; he was in college.  Since he was the oldest, he was the one that was in charge of the other eight of us.  He was the one whose approval we all sought, whether we knew it at the time or not.  He showed us the way and gave us an example to follow.  I would always try to steal as many hugs as I could.

I was still little when he settled down and started a family.  His wedding to his beautiful bride is the first that I really remember.  For this, I am thankful.  Very few weddings and very few marriages have compared to the one that they shared together.  The four incredible children they brought into this world never cease to amaze me.  He really set the precedent for all of the rest of us to follow.


Chad was a farmer.  He showed me what hard work really looked like.  He was always busy and always had tasks to complete.  But that didn't stop him from being the generous man that he was.  He consistently checked on our grandmother.  He would sneak in a lot of little visits to see how she was doing.  And he never went anywhere without his infectious laugh.

He was the one that would sneak you out of wedding receptions when all you wanted was chicken nuggets.  And when he realized that you were not going to get any taller, he would finally make you give him a piggy-back ride after all of those years where you rode on his shoulders.  And just in case you never would get another chance to see it, he would show you what a real marriage was like and how it was filled with love, fun, and maybe even a birdseed fight or two.

He was Chad.  He is Chad.  There is no other way to describe him.





I had this dream about a month ago.  The whole family was over at Chad's brother-in-law's house eating lunch.  It was after the accident.  While everyone was eating inside, my cousin Chuck and I sat on the front porch steps.  Chad pulled up in the driveway.  He walked right over to us and sat down.  The three of us just looked at each other for a minute or two before anyone said anything.  He let us touch the little scar on his face from the cut he got in the accident.  His sunburn had faded, but he still had rosy cheeks.  Chuck told Chad that he missed him.  Chad said that he understood and that he missed him and missed all of us so much.  I told Chad that I didn't like it this way.  I didn't like that he was dead and that he wasn't here anymore.  Chad said that he didn't like being away from us, but that he liked where he was now.  He told us that it was a lot easier and that he has had a lot of time to relax.  I told him that I was the baby.  I was the baby and he was the oldest.  He was supposed to tell me what to do.  I asked him how could he tell me or show me what to do when he wasn't even alive anymore.  He just looked at me.  Then he said, "I don't know how to be old.  I never did.  I work outside and I work with my hands.  That's what I do.  Neither my job nor my mindset would ever allow me to get old, and you know that.  You have seven other cousins and all of our aunts and uncles that are going to show you how to do this.  They are going to do a much better job at aging than I ever could.  And Mallary, we have such a big family.  We take up a lot of room everywhere that we go, so of course we are going to need a lot of space in Heaven.  Someone had to be up there to prepare the land."  He paused for just a minute before he continued.  "It is so beautiful there.  I have to go now but remember everything that I said.  I love you both so much."  And with everything being said, Chad got up and left my dream just as quickly as he left this world.  Chuck and I were still just sitting on the steps, trying to take in everything that had just happened.


It took me a long time to believe that his death was real.  But it didn't take me long at all to know that my dream was real.  I heard his voice and saw his face.  I heard his answers to our hard questions.  The answers that I never even fathomed until I heard them come from him.

I really am a baby.  His death snuck up on me at a time when I was only thinking about myself.  I was barely keeping my head above water when I got the shocking news.  It ripped the ground right from underneath my feet.  Nothing made sense.  I was such a mess.  I didn't know how to function when people talked about it, let alone when his oldest child asked me questions.  I couldn't remember how to mourn.  I went through sharp phases of grief that quickly changed into numbness and then back again.  I needed closure.  I asked God for something to help.  Just like always, I needed Chad's guidance.  He has always been there for me for every moment in my life.  Even after he died, he made a special appearance in my dreams so that I could say goodbye.

The grief has been less debilitating since that dream.  But it is still there.  I will continue to love Chad just as much as I always have.  Nothing will ever change that.  It helps to know that he is in Heaven, making room and providing for our family.  It helps to know that he is not alone.  It helps to know that this goodbye is not forever.


I miss Chad today.

Happy, Happy June

The last time we spoke, I was learning what it was like to be busy.  I thought I had learned it all.  But I was mistaken.  I have found that I am mistaken often.

This semester, I have learned a lot.  I learned that when you feel busy, you stop feeling much of anything else.  You stop feeling how comfortable your bed is.  You stop feeling the warmth of the people around you.  It is just you and the task at hand.  Or tasks.  Maybe even more tasks.  But you can feel a few things.  You feel overtired and overwhelmed.  You feel the passing of time, without having to surrender yourself to a silly little pillow.  Not that you find much of anything in that anyway.  And for a person who finds solace in being alone, even you can feel lonely.  In the midst of feeling so much and feeling so little.

And in the midst of my own battle (which in comparison feels so trivial and stupid), I experienced the greatest loss I have ever known.  I lost a truly great person and a truly great friend.  This loss is not something I know how to put in words quite yet.  But she does and so does she.  I haven't figured it out yet.  It's been over three weeks and I still don't understand.



After everything that happened, I know that I need to slow down.  I need to take more time for other people and more time for me.  Less time for things.  Less time for being busy.  I have people that are willing to wait on me.  People that believe in everything that I can do.  I need to sweep the rooms that are clouding up my mind.  I need to take down, brick by brick, all that which is guarding my heart.  I am going to lay down my mind and try to help myself.



And now it is June.  Happy, Happy June.  June is my birthday month.  My time for me to celebrate me.  And I am going to do just that.


June is for hot days and balmy nights.  For adventure and love.  For slowing down and racing hearts.  For the old and the new.  June is lazy, long, and happy days.  I love to make memories in June and I love to reflect on the memories made.  Reflection and growth.  Happiness and peace.



So here's to my life.  Fulfilling and complicated and hilarious and tiring and real.  And fun.  With work and different cities every year and art and great friends.  There is more Diet Coke than is healthy, responsibility, sleep, and happiness.


Happy, Happy June.

Dig Yourself

We are not here for a long time.


 
We are here for a good time.

Busy

I have had the winter blues.

Having not quite caught my breath during Christmas break, I came into this semester a little overtired and a little overwhelmed.  I have come to learn that that is not the way to start off.  If I have ever said that I was busy before this semester, I was wrong.  I did not know what busy was until I reached this phase of my life.  Busy is having a test a week in your classes.  Busy is 3 hours of homework per week, per class.  Busy is being responsible for over 300 young women.  Busy is balancing and working with a budget that surpasses one million dollars.  Busy is learning that adults do not always advise and projects that are delegated are not always done correctly.  Busy is being laid-back in a world that is perpetually more challenging every time you glance up.  Busy is following through.  Busy is correcting other people's mistakes and often taking the blame.  Busy is waking up on the right side of the bed when you barely had enough time to crawl into it.  Busy is my new way of life.

So as you can see, I've been a little busy.  I let the blog fall by the wayside in order to hold onto my sanity. I also learned that it is acceptable spend the night at home on a school night and drive back to Oxford before class the next day.  Sometimes you just need a break.


I always think of Alexander whenever I am having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.  I've been thinking of him a lot lately.  But as the story goes, some days are like that... even in Australia.  Lately I have been trying to convince myself to see the good in it all, the light at the end of the tunnel.  The light is here or at least almost here.  As I type this, you see, summer is ending in Australia, but summer is just now beginning in Mississippi.


Even though the sun does not agree with my porcelain skin, it has been good to feel the vitamin D coursing through my veins.  I've been able to step back and relax.  I've worn shorts and Chaco's too many times than should be allowed during the month of February.  I read a book while sitting with friends under a tree in the Grove.  I painted outside and got a new camera made to explore the effects of sunlight on everyday items.

I'm coming back to life.


While this semester has been a challenge, so far it has also been some of the most fun weeks of my college career.  I'm busy.  But I'm not letting that stop me.

Girl Talk

Something unbelievable happened this week.  On a Monday.  Nothing good ever happens on a Monday... or so I thought.  Boy was I wrong.

I just went to a concert.  Nothing too out of the ordinary, but I knew that this one would be different.  Girl Talk has been a favorite of mine since the first time I ever heard it.  It is the first CD I play when there is nothing on the radio.  Greg Gillis is one of the most important men in my life.  Needless to say, I was a little excited for the show.  I expected a good time but I got so much more than that.

There I was.  Front row.  Right in the middle.  I got to experience the concert the way it was designed to be seen.  When the guys with the leaf blowers shot toilet paper into the air, they leaned over me to do so.  When they sprayed water into people's faces, I was the go-to girl.  When the camera wanted a close-up for the screen on stage, I was a perfect choice.

The songs were perfect.  Just like they always are.  For someone with a wide range of tastes, Girl Talk is the perfect mix of everything I love about music.  So when I was standing at that concert, with everything I love right in front of me, I was able to let loose and just be me.

It did not matter how what I looked like or how I acted.  It did not matter who I was or what I wanted to do with my life.  I did not have to worry about my life plans or lack thereof.  I was just me.  A complete stranger to the crowd, but just like everyone else.  We just danced.  Without worrying about appearances.  We just did what we wanted to do.  We felt the music and let go.

It was the best concert I have ever attended.


I believe that hearts are made of glitter that you scatter around.  The more glitter in an area or on a person means that it is covered in your love.  I think the same is true with confetti....

I Have Let Myself Go

2010 ended on a wave of good times and memories that I will hold onto for a long to come.  The last few weeks of the year held some of the best times I have had during 2010.  When it came down to the year changing, I wasn't ready.  I have never been comfortable with change.  I am superstitious.  And this time it wasn't only the year changing, it was the decade.  Which really scared me.

I did most of my growing up during the past ten years.  I hit some major milestones.  Needless to say, I was wary for all of that to end.  I felt that fear that comes with turning in a project without having the time to proofread it.  I don't know if I was able to accomplish everything I had hoped for.  2010 ending was intimidating.  But as much as I wish otherwise, I have no control over time.  Things happen and time passes without my approval.  Thus the end of an era.


I did well and I did good over the past ten years.  I made major improvements.  I learned long division and calculus.  I mastered writing in cursive, and then I promptly forgot it.  I went from recess to study hall.  I lost and I won elections.  I witnessed birth and death.  I got braces and (thankfully) got them removed.  I broke bones and I learned how to fix them.  I lost friends and found even better ones.  But most of all, I learned how to be me.


So for this decade and this year, I compiled a list of non-goals.  A list of things that I already love about myself and things that I do right:
1.  Continue to be courageous.  You have been faced with tough situations but have found the strength to navigate through them with grace.
2.  You have cultivated a great ability to listen.  Keep listening to the voice inside of you and trusting what you truly want and need.  And keep listening to others.  Listen to their stories and learn from their voices.  They made need a shoulder to cry on, but you still need to be needed. 
3.  You have been confronted with new challenges and stretched in new ways, especially this year.  Be proud of the resiliency and focus you have shown.
4.  Never stop asking for what you want or need.  It will be better in the end.
5.  Don't forget that you are doing what you love.  Please don't forget that.


But just like every good thing must come to an end, I also reflected on the things that I must change.  So in this year and in this decade, I will:
1.  Drink more water and less Diet Coke.
2.  Stop being so lazy.  Life is happening while you are taking your sweet time.  Go out into the world and be a part of it.
3.  Be more adventurous.  Every time you have stepped out of the box, it has proven to be beneficial.  Get out of your comfort zone and see life in a different way.
4.  Hone your creativity.  It always comes in waves.  It is inside you, it is just hiding.  Go find it.  Dig deep and color the world.
5.  Love.  That is always the challenge for you, isn't it?  Be more open and accepting.  See what life is like on the other side.


I don't like change.  It took me a while, but I am ready to accept the challenge of moving forward.  I am ready.  I am willing.


I have let myself go.



2011, may you be just as exciting as I am anticipating.

I'll Be Seeing You

My grandfather died in the early morning hours of April 6, 2008.  It was a tough day for all of us, followed by tougher weeks ahead.

At this time, I was still in high school and my sister was at Ole Miss.  I could hear the phone ring in my parent's bedroom and I knew that it was never a good thing whenever anyone called that early.  My mom came in to tell me the news: Papa died.

We had expected it for a while.  He had received diagnosis after diagnosis that all pointed to the end.  However, in the same fashion that he lived his life, he neither tired nor faltered; he would not accept something that he did not believe to be true.  Over the next months after his diagnosis, his health got a lot worse.  He got weaker and we settled into the knowledge that we would soon be without him.  But it was not that easy.  My cousin was getting married that spring and he did not want to miss it.  Despite his failing health, Papa managed to find his second wind.  He made it to that wedding and we have the proof in a beautiful photograph of the entire family.  True to it's form, Papa's second wind did not last long.  A few weeks later, my grandfather passed away.

My mother drove to Oxford right away to tell my sister.  She went to her dorm room, woke her up, and let her know.  She took my sister to get breakfast and sitting there next to the car was a beautiful male cardinal.  He watched them drive away.  My sister knew it in her heart that that cardinal was Papa, quietly watching over her.

That night when I was trying to find my shoes that I was going to wear to the funeral, I looked underneath my bed and saw, not a pair of shoes, but instead a toy cardinal.  Oftentimes when I am running late or am stressed out, I see a quick glimpse of a cardinal out of the corner of my eye and I instantly relax.  On my most important days when the butterflies are fluttering in my stomach, I have been known to pass a cardinal on my way in to whatever new journey I am about to lead.  Cardinals are there when I am on the verge of tears.  During my best moments and my worst.  Present for my mundane and extraordinary days.

And this is not just for me or my sister.  My grandmother has a beautiful male cardinal residing in the birdhouse outside of the kitchen window.  My mom and aunts and uncles and cousins see cardinals all the time.  In terms of literature, a cardinal is a symbol of grace and nobility.  For my family, a cardinal is Papa... watching over us, protecting us, being there for our daily trials.

I have never been one to believe in reincarnation or ghosts or spirits.  That is not what Papa is.  I know that my grandfather is above in Heaven.  He watches over my family every day and just to say hello, he puts a cardinal in our path to remind us of the love he has for each one of us.

Today was another tough day.  My father, mother, sister and I were packing our bags to leave Mimi's house when Mimi told us that Aunt Naomi had died.  She had been fighting a very tough battle to live for quite some time now.  She had held on through Christmas, held on as long as she could, and passed away peacefully in her sleep.

We went over there once we heard the news.  We wanted to be with family and show our support to our loved ones that were beginning to face the grieving process.  It was such a hard thing to do, but I am so glad that we were able to be there.  We shed our tears, hugged our hearts out, offered our condolences, and gave our goodbyes.  With nothing left to do, we left.

Our bags were packed and we hit the road.  I turned on a playlist to try to mend our broken hearts.  I sat in the drivers seat, clutching the steering wheel and bracing myself for the long road home.  My sister sat next to me with her face pointed towards the window, trying to hide her tears.  We passed through the roads of that sleepy town, headed onto the highway, and we were nearing the bridge that connected where we were going with where we were coming from.  I leaned forward to turn up the radio.  My sister looked up.  What we saw then was a sign.  A sign that everything would be alright.  To the left of the car, right before the bridge, a dozen cardinals flew towards town.

I was sad not being able to spend Christmas with Papa this year.  I can still remember how his eyes would light up as he sat in the middle of the room and watched his children and grandchildren open their gifts.  I missed having him around.  I always do.  But as much as I missed him yesterday, I ache for my cousins who just lost their mother.  I am so sad that this is the last Christmas that they will have together. I hate that this is the end of a life, especially the life of a loved one.  However I witnessed something beautiful today that I will never forget.  I watched my grandfather, the head of the family, fly away home.  I watched as he, surrounded by his brothers, sisters, in-laws, and parents, flew to Aunt Naomi to take her to their new eternal home.  A place where life is endless and beautiful.  Where they will be together forever.

I miss you everyday, Papa.  I know that there will be a day where our family will be whole and together again, but until then...




I'll be seeing you.