15 Years

Oh daddy. How my heart aches to see your face and hug you. 

What a time you'd be having here with the crazy creatures I call my children. There is always something going on that will always need to be shared with you. 

15 years seems like a quick little bit of time... but it also feels like eternity. This year was something special. 2025. Crazy to think we've gotten this far. I still remember December 1999 and the whole world just wondering what would happen on New Year's Eve. 

2025 brought the end of high school for A and the end of elementary school for K. Aunt Julie was at graduation to see her own grandson graduate and it was so neat to see her beautiful face. And yet, bittersweet knowing how badly I wanted you there too. 

Next week K will finish the 5th grade and move on up to the treacherous next three years of middle school. I want it to go as slowly as possible for my own sanity but considering I just watched my kid graduate high school... I feel like if I blink, K will be graduating high school. 

A got her first job... at Dutch Bro's LOL. But she is doing great and she is loving her job. I think work is helping her to grasp some realities in life and even just the last few weeks, I have seen so much maturity in her. She has this "not boyfriend" and he is just the cutest. He is so awkward looking and he is shy but he is respectful and kind to her and he loves Jesus... so really, I don't have anything to complain about yet. A is enrolled at RCC for the next year to get some college credits out of the way before she moves away to Utah to hopefully cheer at Weber State. I am so excited for the potential she has and to see her just blossom. 

J just finished freshman year of high school. She has been playing soccer for awhile but truly got serious over the last year or so. She played for South and is determined to make varsity this year. In the off season, she played club ball and got to travel and learn even more. It was pretty awesome watching her truly shine. J is smart and passionate about people. She is set on nursing as her career and is already planning colleges and life after. She is also preparing to get her permit next week and I'm not sure if I have more anxiety over her driving my car... or the fact that she is almost 15 years old. 

K is not at all, even slightly excited about middle school. I think mostly because her boyfriend is going to a different school and she will be heartbroken. The 5th graders went on the Jetboats last week and she got to sit by him AND hold his hand. And then she gets tomato red when you ask about it and it is just the cutest little love story. She is a fireball of sarcasm, stubbornness, and passion. 

And me.. well I'm just over here refusing to settle for less than I deserve. I keep thinking I find something worth my time and energy but then they fall short. And you once told me to never settle for someone not willing to treat me like a princess... so I can't let you down. I will just enjoy my many book boyfriends in the meantime :) 

I think about you often. I used to think if I accepted reality, I would forget your face. Forget your voice. But I'm learning to work through my heartache and I'm doing pretty good. This year I cried but I was able to pick up and stay on track. I missed you just as much as I do every other day, but I didn't fall into that dark hole I've stayed in for so long. I knew you're weren't in there. 

I love you so much. I'm so grateful for the time I had with you and what you've taught me all these years of life. 

Visit me soon. 

Love always, 
Your little princess 

Talking to the Stars

 Bruno Mars sings the well known "talking to the moon.." and tonight I found myself in the front yard staring at what I believe to be Mars... wishing it was darker so I could see more stars. 

The smoke has been so thick lately that looking at the stars hasn't even been a thought of mine. Tonight, well, truthfully, most of today.. has been a day I have longed to just hear your voice. It hits me so hard sometimes.. the never ending truth that I will never see you again on this side of earth. I hate it. Some days I hate it more than others. Today I found myself on the couch watching a football game.. during half time they had a special going with various coaches and where they were 20 years ago... some with personal experiences of loss that dreadful day... some who grew up recognizing the twin towers as a staple of life. I felt my eyes filling up as I attempted to even fathom the significance of this day to each and every one of them. Then I remembered you.

What felt so normal of a morning to me as I reluctantly got out of bed and began to get ready for another day of middle school. Now that I think about it, it might have even been just our second day back to school that year. Regardless... I found you on the couch, tears streaming down your face. Anger, hurt, deep sorrow, pain. To me, a plane hitting a building wasn't completely significant. I understood the heartbreak happening and all we could do was watch it.. and I even understood when you told me it was a terrorist attack against the United States... but it just didn't really resonate for me. 

All day long we listened to the radios and watched the news as we went about the day. Pretty sure I was annoyed at some point just wishing we could have a normal day since we were so far away from all of it anyways. But the image of you sitting in tears on our couch has never left me. 

daddy... today marks 20 years since that awful attack. We came together that day as a country united and we stood side by side, hand in hand, ready to fight, support, and come out stronger. We lost daddy. We lost it all. And today I can't help but feel selfish wishing you were here to be angry with me. Angry at our president, angry at my dirt bag of an ex husband.. angry at myself for more things than I can count.. just plain angry at the world. 

I want to take my blankets outside and lay down in the grass watching the sky. I want to be in a movie so I can watch the clouds form into the shape of your face and listen to you talk to me. I'm so ready to wake up from this 11 year dream and find you in the kitchen making some ridiculous breakfast for the girls so I can be mad at you for feeding them junk instead of mad that I can't hear your voice. Every single time something goes wrong, I long to just call you and complain. I want to call my daddy so he can fix the world for his princess. 

I'm not joking either.. when I have to slam on my breaks cause the timing of the light suck.. or one of the gazillion times a day that Amaylie gives me attitude.. or when Jared makes me mad or annoyed..  when I see pictures of the twins and Leo looks more and more like Layne every day.. When I get a  text message and its stupid.. or the dumb people call me cause my "car warranty is about to expire." I just can't move through the days without you. 

Don't get me wrong.. I love knowing that you are safe with Jesus. I know He had a timing I will never be able to grasp. I just hate living without you. It isn't getting easier dad. When will it get easier for me? Why did you stop coming to see me in my dreams? 

Having A Moment...

Packing sucks. Moving sucks. Gone are the days of offering up some pizza and beer to a few Marines who can play real life Tetris with all of my belongings in the back of a U Haul truck. I don't even have to pack and move near as much stuff but it still sucks. I've pretty much lived in the same spandex shorts and tank top for the last three days and I walk around the house figuring out what can go in storage and what I might need over the next six weeks.

I seriously have the best friend in the entire world. She opened up her home to not only me, but the girls and even the psychotic dogs while we go through the limbo of waiting for our new home to be ready. I know she will refuse just about every type of payment possible but I'm gonna find a way. And then I'm gonna have to secretly gift her things like random bottles of champagne over the next year or ten :)  I love her and her husband for their willingness to help and for just being awesome people. We need more people like them.

So I'm sitting on my bed now. Suitcases out as I pack enough clothes to survive on for a few weeks. I'm thinking I might be smart and make the rest of my clothes easily accessible in storage in the event our triple digit days all of a sudden turn into winter... doubtful but i can dream :) I have boxes and boxes and boxes from the kitchen. i have boxes of blankets, towels, and sheets. I have boxes of all the random stuff I collect in my bathroom. Boxes of shoes and clothes. All slowly but surely filling up my storage unit. And I still have more.

I have a drawer of things I don't usually wear but can't get rid of. Mostly a couple sweatshirts and my Ariel onesie... and a LSAT book. One sweatshirt though... I often forget is there. Folded up nicely. Definitely hasn't been washed in a very, very long time. Its a South Medford Bowling sweatshirt. Because we were a team and teams had matching stuff. Bowling might not be the coolest thing to you (or me honestly) but we were really freaking good and we dominated the bowling world for 4 years. But this isn't just any sweatshirt. It belonged to my dad. Over the chest his name is embroidered... Mike. 

I miss him so freaking much. If he were here right now, watching me go through this divorce and moving and figuring out how to be single again.. he would be right by my side packing boxes, driving back and forth to the storage unit, and most importantly, listening to me gripe when I'm irritated and also reminding me of God's grace and glory. He'd be sneaking out the front door with the girls to go get Slurpee's and feeding my dogs treat after treat for their bad behavior.

Not to long ago I invited Shayne and his girl friend over to the house for dinner. I wanted to meet her and just get it all over with but I also needed the garbage disposal fixed. I have had a lot of anxiety and agitation over the new girlfriend... not so much him moving on, but just how some of it went down and how immature we have been at times with all of the changes. I needed to be an adult... the bigger person. And so I did it. After they had left for the evening, I commented to the girls that it went much better than I expected and I was happy about it all.

Then... from the kitchen, a little voice pipped up... "why couldn't you just wait till I was older to do this?" You know the feeling of a brick to the gut... this was worse. I knew what she meant, but I asked her anyways... "what do you mean, Kay?" She replied with "all the divorce stuff. Why couldn't you make it work so we don't have to go back and forth all the time." UGH.....

Sweet baby girl, I promise you we tried. You and your sisters were the hardest part of all of this. We both wanted so badly to have a happy family but we just couldn't do it. So much I'd like to say about that but I don't think the internet is the right place... I think I cuddled with her for a good hour. Smelling her stinky hair, rubbing her sweaty back. Cherishing her sweet little innocence.

I truly hope my parents didn't feel like failures. I saw a lot growing up that maybe I shouldn't have seen, but I saw so much more. I hope my girls will look back one day and not remember these difficult months of moving and frustrations but remember their dad and I simply present with them. My parents showed up. My parents did what was best in each moment, or at least what they thought was best. While we have all taken our own paths in adulthood, we all took something from our parents. I'd be blessed to know that my girls carried out something I did as they were growing up. It will likely be the ability to annoy and embarrass their own kids, but its something.

Daddy, I still miss you. Every single day. I think about you often as I go about all the things I have to get done each day. Love you, dad. So, so much.

A Decade of Different

It always feels so sureal as each year passes. Year one was definitely the hardest year... so I thought. Welcoming J into the family, job changes, life changes, moving... it was a crazy year for sure. Looking back though, I was completely numb to most of it. I remember the big days of that first year, but I remember just bits and pieces. I don't remember emotions, milestones... most days just felt cold.

Now we are about to reach the end of a decade without you. Ten years have come and gone and life still just doesn't seem normal. I don't even know what normal should be. Honestly, I find something or I start to feel something and I wonder if this is it... my new normal. However, I have become insanely good at ruining it. Its like I have one of those little demons on my shoulder wispering in my ear and before I know it, I have royally fucked up whatever is ahead of me. Mostly relationships... I wonder how many people will stick around with me much longer.

I asked my doctor recently for some Xanax to curb those sudden anxiety attacks I have from time to time... instead he sent me to a behavioral psychologist... not sure how those are the same but whatever. He asked me to focus on the good over the last ten years.. the only way I know how to do that is writing... so here it goes.

2010.

Jordyn Renae. Born June 6 at 12:47am. She was 7 pounds 10 ounces.

Jordyn wasn't breathing when she was born. She has swallowed a lot of amniotic fluids and the cord was wrapped around her neck. Her heartrate was extrememly high but she eventually calmed down. She had all her fingers and toes. Blue eyes and from day one she had your smile. She was beautiful and delicate. I look at this photo now and I fall in love with the tiny human all over again. She was a blessing of life and love amid the massive heartbreak we were all experiencing. She was a reminder to me that God was still good and God was still present. 

Amaylie took to being a big sister better than any of us could have imagined. She was helpful and loving. She took great pride in her new baby sister and loved being able to help care for this new little person. I now had two little girls, dad. Your baby girl was growing up. 

2011.

Its crazy how much a child grows and changes in just one year. Granted these photos were from nearly the end of 2011 but even still, going from a newborn to a walking, talking (back), sassy little human.. and Amaylie.. man that girl gets a giant dose of personality with each year she is with us. Like, I'm afraid it won't stop. The hormones, dad... how did you ever survive me???

2012. 

2012 brought on the Navy life. We had no idea what that was going to do to our family. How everything would change. How we would grow in marriage, grow as parents, grow as people. I'd say adults but I'm still not ready to be an adult. 

2013. 

Kaylee Michelle. 9/22/2013. 

Another girl, dad. Was I really that bad as a kid? LOL. I don't remember how much she weighed exactly because I am still shook by that BROWN hair!!!!!! 

Amaylie Elexis. 5 years old. 1st day of kindergarten. Broken arm and all. 

I am a girl mom. Destined to raise girls in this wild and crazy world. I'm worried for them more than myself. 

2014.

Got a new bike, daddy. She was a powerful beast and oh so beautiful. I got to be the cool mom who rode a dirtbike for awhile. I jumped it too. Like a wild and crazy person with nothing to lose. Except I had a lot to lose.. my beautiful babies so I decided to officially retire from the adrenaline. 

Also, we were about to move back to Oregon and the riding scene down there SUCKS!!!!! 

But this dad... this was definitely the highlight of 2014. That's Layne... I know he looks extra suave here and that's because he somehow convinced Alyx to marry him! The wedding was beautiful, dad. Everyone was there for Layne... Steve and Kimberly flew out. Mom and Lucas and grandpa Coe. The Smalls. It was perfect. And, I won't spoil the future but amazing things are in store for that kid! And yes, I said things.. as in plural :) 

2015.

Confession.. this picture was actually taken right before Christmas in 2014... but I love it so much. All my babies... blonde now if you didn't notice. I don't know what happened but the brown did not stick around. 

Okay 2015 looked pretty good on us. Wild and crazy runs in our blood. 

2016. 

If you really look hard, you can probably guess which one was not at all excited about her first day of kindergarten. Another look into the future.... she still has about the same level of excitement for school as she did this very first day! HAHAHAHAHA. 

2017.

I'm so in love with the personalitites these girls have grown. Amaylie is beyong smart and athletic and sassy. Jordyn has no fear and just goes, goes, goes for anything she sees. Kaylee... well that kid deserves a book or ten about her life and shes only 6!!! Don't let these photos fool you though, dad... they fight non freaking stop. 

2018.  DISNEYLAND!!!!!!!!

First (and probably last) Disney trip with children. Ha. Too much walking. Way to hot. Long lines. Super expensive. The girls complained and fought with each other for two fulls days inside what is supposed to be the "Happiest Place on Earth" but if you asked them today, they can't wait to go back and they had soooo much fun!!! Clearly we were not there together!!

2019. 

Okay dad... here it is. The year in the last decade with some of the greatest memories so far. Settle in, its about to get really good!

So you should recognize the three girls... you are probably wondering about the other two tho... Okay. The sweet face in the yellow dress, that is your 4th granddaughter, Isla Rose. And that strikingly handsome boy, that Leo Gerrard, your grandson. Twins. Most definitely not mine though. Those two perfect faces belong to Layne and Alyx. Remember when I said plural? Yep. 2019 was a pretty blessed year for our family. 

2020. 

Here we are now... May 2nd, 2020. So much has happened in the last ten years. Some pretty rough things, but also a lot of good. You have five, incredibly healthy grandchildren. Each one with their own unique personality and value to the world. Being a mom and watching my girls grow up has been so much fun so far... but watching Layne become a husband and a father, that has been equally awesome. Seeing Lucas find his career and strive and he is without question, one of the greatest uncles of all time. 

A little bit of bad news.. Shayne and I got divorced. Almost two months offically now. We separated last year though. I'd like to say I'm doing okay but I'm really not. This year has been rough. Divorce... a decade without you. Currently waiting for our house to sell so I can close this chapter of my life and attempt to move on. Emotionally, I'm pretty wrecked. I thought I was doing pretty good... met someone and all... but I ruined that already. 

Dad I miss you soo much still. It hasn't gotten easier yet. Despite what people say... I just don't know that it ever will. I wish I could hear your voice again. See your smile. Feel your hug. What I would give to have you here still. 

I love you daddy. 

Just Exhale

Inhale.

Exhale.

Repeat.

TV is based on a script. The lines spoken, the clothes worn, the good, the bad… and the heartbreak. It is all written down, rehearsed, and then repeated until it gives you that feeling of connection. The words have to mean something to each viewer or the show won’t last. No matter what we watch, we connect somehow. I truly believe this is because all scripts come from a place within where each and every word has a deeper meaning. Romances gone wrong. Friendships that grew into a love so big it seems like a fairytale. Truly, everything is real.

I connect to just about any and all shows or movies about parenthood. Being a mom is beyond hard most days. I feel like I can’t do anything right sometimes. What isn’t real, is the beautiful, spotless, always clean house. If your home is that clean, then you must fly to keep dirt off the floors or, to be totally honest, you just don’t have kids. My girls aren’t even home tonight and my house is a mess. Why not just clean up since they are gone? Why not take this time to organize all their toys and coloring things and clothes? Because the real truth of being a parent with a free night is sitting down on the couch, watching TV, and doing nothing. Nothing is the best thing to do on these nights. I just sit here. Watching whatever I want and not having to explain things; eating whatever I want without having to share; and looking around at my mess and smiling because I miss my obnoxious kids.

I connect to shows on a very, very deep level, that sometimes I can’t even explain… especially when the dad dies. Not a single detail surrounding the death matters other than the loss of a father. One of my more recent anxiety attacks came after a Grey’s Anatomy episode in which a man had a very serious brain injury due to an accident of some sort. As I grieved the unknowns of his outcome with his TV family, I began to build up a deep anger inside of me as his outcome changed. He had the greatest neurosurgeon working on him and like always, Dr. McDreamy was the hero. To everyone but me. I knew that this was a show. It was drama, meant to captivate the audience. The episode did everything for me the writer and director hoped it would. They couldn’t anticipate the numbness deep within my bones rising up and despite all of the emotions I was feeling, I couldn’t turn it off.

I’ve been watching This Is Us from the beginning. Everything about this show is captivating. We, as the audience, dream about love. Maybe we have that love, maybe we know someone we cherish with that love. Regardless, we dream about it and we feel every emotion right along with Jack and Rebecca. We experience the rollercoaster of having siblings all over again. I remember as a kid being told that someday I would like my brothers and I still shake my head, roll my eyes and laugh at that. Truly though, life without my brothers would not be the same. The show got serious for me when Kate began her relationship with Toby and their talks and dreams of their own wedding day.

If I got one to pick one moment to relive with my dad, it would be the moments leading up to him walking me down the aisle on my wedding day. When he walked into the room I was waiting in, he started crying when he saw my cousin and he couldn’t even see me. He asked me if I was ready knowing that he was not. Then we walked down the hallway and stood outside the doors of the church. I can see his face when I close my eyes. He was so proud to be there beside me as we went step by step towards my soon to be husband. When the pastor asked, “who gives away this woman?” you could hear his voice choke up as my parents responded, “we do.” Of all the memories I cherish with my dad, this one is the cherry on top.

Watching Kate struggle knowing she will never have that moment is really hard for me. I instantly feel anxious wondering how things would have been different had we waited till after the baby was born to get married. My heart aches knowing that our dad was not there to see my little brother get married and I know he would have cried like a baby at that wedding too. I often wonder if he had died before I got married, if his absence would have stopped me completely. It just would not have been complete. It would not have been my dream day no matter what else happened.

“If you don’t allow yourself to grieve, it will be like taking a deep breath and just holding it there.”

I think that I have been holding my breath for nearly eight years. My lungs hurt. My chest hurts. My body aches all over. I feel the overwhelming need to let the air out, but I can’t do it. What if I exhale and the memories go to? What if I exhale and things don’t get easier? I am stuck here, but I have comfort from the memories. Stuck but yet I can breathe a little; enough to survive on right now. I’m stuck here because I’m afraid I might disappoint him.

Daddy's Girl

I’m one of three kids and I’m stuck in the middle of two brothers. Growing up, I very well could have done just about anything I wanted and gotten away with it. My dad would take me into his room and whisper to me that he was going to spank me so I better yell so my brothers could hear, then he would smack the bed and my brothers would giggle and run away happy I had been punished. Those days were always followed by a big hug which was the perfect reminder of just how much he loved me. I know he loved my brothers, but they could look at me wrong and get grounded; clearly, I was the favorite.

As a little girl, some of my fondest memories include my dad waking me up as he returned home from work in the early morning hours to take me out to breakfast. We had our favorite little spot just up the road and it was amazing every time. Dad and I always celebrated “take your daughter to work day” as well. For many years he drove trucks and when I was finally old enough, I loved riding along with him on a route. He used to tell me how much I complained about being bored, but I remember just being there and it was awesome. When I got a little older, he was teaching truck driving for a community college. Classes were held at the Veteran’s Facility and I absolutely loved to roam those halls.

I think it is safe to say that I got my emotions from my dad. I witnessed him go from one feeling to the next and then another on many, many occasions. I saw anger, joy, love, happiness, and pride from him probably every day. I feel that most of the time I was able to actually understand those emotions, he was a pretty honest guy. Tossed in to all of his daily emotions, my dad was also an alcoholic.

             

As a parent myself, I can literally find stress in just about any circumstance. I’m not going to say that those stresses are an excuse to drink heavily or become verbally abusive, but I do understand just how easily small stresses can add up until it feels like we are about to blow up. A ticking bomb.

Growing up, my brothers and I all played baseball. Dad loved it and he was always coaching or umpiring for all of our games. I think that softball was where he drew the line with his little princess (me). He loved the sport, and he loved to see me learn and excel, but he hated watching my softball games. They were long and quite uneventful most games. I’m pretty certain I got my competitiveness from him as well, or at least my need to make my own kids more aggressive in their prospective sports. If anything I did brought out every emotion on his spectrum, it was softball. Regardless, he was there. He watched my games, he cheered me on, he threatened the umpires to defend me!

              

Oh man am I drawn to dramatic events. My twentieth birthday comes to mind first. I was finally out of my “teens” and my life was anything but calm. We gathered around the table at home and as we ate and laughed away, there was a nagging moment waiting to happen. A moment I had been dreading for a few weeks but there was simply no way to avoid it. I looked at Shayne and braced myself as he told my parents that we were going to have a baby, out of wedlock. We waited.

             

My mom was standing behind us, he back against the wall. I could feel the anger as she likely glared at the back of our heads. There was nothing telling me to turn around and look at her. My brother yelled from the other room, “I knew it!” and I’m sure that just fueled the fire. I watched my dad as he processed the news and then he threw his hands up and questioned, “I’m going to be a grandpa!?” His excitement was immediately halted as he met mom’s eyes and he sat back down asking her, “are we not supposed to be excited?” That night was over ten years ago now and I still laugh out loud when I think about it. His joy was not going to be taken away from him. I loved that moment.

              

Dad’s reaction is one of my favorite things about him. He loved the thought of me growing up and becoming a mom. He loved even more the idea of becoming a grandpa. When we found out we were having a girl his excitement only grew. He was constantly calling me to check in on his grand-baby; not me, but the little human he couldn’t wait to meet. The night she was born, I called him to let him know we were going to go the hospital to get checked out because I had no idea what was happening. I told him we didn’t know anything but would call as soon as we did. He beat me to the hospital. He didn’t care if she wasn’t coming that night, he was not going to miss a moment regardless.

              

When Amaylie was finally born, our family gathered around to meet her and soak in the glory of God through a new life. As my dad held her for the first time and his tears fell, I felt more like his little girl than I ever had. What I would give to be in that moment again. How I wish I could have shared that moment with him at the birth of Jordyn and Kaylee.