Take a Friend

take a friend final

A few weeks ago, I pulled myself out of bed earlier than normal on a Saturday morning, fully intending to get a run in before I started my day.

It was a good morning for it…not too sunny, not too humid (yet), and I had the best intentions…but for whatever reason, 8:30 rolled around and I still hadn’t laced up my shoes.

I found myself lacking motivation for something that I typically do enjoy, at least once I get going.

In a last, desperate attempt to get myself moving and excited about pounding pavement, I looked at my daughter. Do you want to go running with me?

Yes, Mommy!

Well, there was my, you-can’t-get-out-of-this-now-Mel, answer. We were definitely going running.

It was well after nine before we were finally out the door with Mae chattering away a mile a minute as I strapped her into the jogger.

We took off…and, friends?

We seriously had the BEST time.

And as we pushed through those three-point-one miles, I couldn’t help but smile at the moments God was giving us…

He was using my daughter to teach me some important lessons about the journey.

Today I’m over at God-sized Dreams, sharing about the importance of sharing the dreaming journey with others…join me?

200blogbuttonavatar

Sig

As I Am

 sammyresting-final

I love this picture of Sammy.

It’s just him on any day…I honestly don’t even remember which day this was. He was just lying down. Being cute. Not even moving when I pulled out my phone for a photo…yeah. He just is.

Nothing special but maybe everything that is special. And I love it. :)

So it’s been three weeks since there have been words here.

And today I finally decided it’s ok to write no matter what.

Honestly, I’ve been waiting for something. And if I continue to wait for it…I guess there wouldn’t be words today. Or maybe for a lot more days.

I’ve been waiting for that moment when I had the grief thing figured out. The kind of day when the smiles just came and the words poured. The kind when I felt no pain or no sadness or no wishing for what might have been. The kind when I could admit that I’d moved on completely.

And then I realized that’s just not life. And it’s not what He wants for me, either.

Just like He wants every day, He wants me to come as I am.

And that’s hard. But it’s the right thing to do.

It’s hard to sit and pour things from a heart that’s been beaten down. A heart that struggles to find Hope even though I know it’s there. A heart that has been through so much loss and has wondered…often…if God is really there.

My hubby and I were talking on Sunday during our long road trip from Minnesota to home about that. About how so many times during this season we’ve had to fall back on what we know of our Father…because we have a hard time feeling any of it.

As I am…it looks rough. Ragged. Puffy, tired eyes. A few extra pounds from the running that hasn’t happened.

And when I took a selfie a couple of days ago, I could see it all. I could see a thousand things that were wrong with this picture.

melselfieoutside-final
I was tempted to change the color settings, to crop things a little…to make it look a little better than it actually is.

But the truth? Is that God doesn’t want that from any of us. He doesn’t ask us to spend hours on the way things appear before we come to Him.

He already knows it. All of it. And the best part of it all is that He chooses to love us despite it. Despite the flaws, despite the imperfections.

I don’t have this all figured out.

I don’t know what my days are going to look like.

Tomorrow might be a truly wonderful day…full of laughter and sunshine and memories with my girl.

Or, it might be a hard day, too…with tears and questions and more tears.

And that’s ok.

Today it’s ok, and tomorrow it is, too.

Because His mercies and His promises are for me every day…not just on the days when life feels good.

It’s part of the journey and it’s where I am.

As I am.

Sig

My Andre…

Andre-final
It’s been three days.

It seems like so much longer, but that’s how hard days can seem. The way they stretch and linger is painful…heart-wrenching.

He and I, we sat on the couch together three days ago. He was resting, his chest rising and falling…my hand there with every breath. In between games of Sudoku…something to keep my mind off of it all…I’d look over at him.

Feel the tears well up.

Whisper a prayer that it was all a bad dream.

Breathe into his ear how much I loved him.

Repeat.

We knew it. The vet had confirmed it just the day before, but we knew. We knew it was almost over.

Eleven years that had made up a lifetime were about to end.

It was soul-crushing, the kind that leaves a hollow, painfully deep ache.

And even in the ache, I caught myself reflecting…

Reflecting on a life together that began on a beautiful September Saturday in 2003. He bounded toward us, and I almost said no because he was bigger than the cute, wiggly, 12 week-old puppy I really wanted. But there was something about him, and we just knew.

We knew this was our puppy. And so we took this almost-five-month-old, still wiggly, ball of fur home with us and named him Andre.

He was totally an Andre…always happy, a little goofy, and perfectly sweet. We were in love immediately.

He bounded into our lives, ready to take on any adventures that might come with it. And had he known what was coming, maybe he would have turned around…but he didn’t. He stayed, he boarded planes, he crossed cultures, he welcomed more family members, he followed us wherever we went…and he lived every single day with exuberance.

Every single day for eleven plus years…and those years passed by too quickly.

And we watched the calendar pages turn, wondering where it was going. The one consolation was that he was still so much a puppy…so playful, so full of love.

And it continued until the end. Only in his last weeks did he show signs of slowing down…and that was why my hubby decided he needed to be checked out.

It didn’t take long to hear the words tumors and a week or two…and those words broke our hearts to shards. He wasn’t in any pain…but we carried that pain.

Knowing that he could slip away at any moment made it hard to even breathe.

Just 24 hours after we knew, it was time. We watched through tears as he used up the last of his love on people…that was so Andre. And then, exhausted, he found a spot in the grass to breathe in some of his last moments. We carried him to the van, and Tobin and I went.

We drove in tears, we gave final hugs, we went into the room, the three of us together for the last time.

We held him and told him, over and over, what he already knew. We loved him so much…and he had been the best dog in the world.

And my arms were wrapped around him, my hand on his heart, when he went.

The tears fell…more than I’ve ever cried, I think…as we said goodbye and forced ourselves to leave the room and find our way home…a home that will never feel the same again.

It’s three days later, and the tears still pour.

I miss my boy. I miss the way he greeted me with a smile and a butt wiggle multiple times a day. I miss the way every second was a gift worthy to be lived with exuberance. I miss the cuddles and the snuggles and the endless amounts of dog hair all over me.

I miss it all so much.

I miss him. And I will forever.

And I sometimes wonder why we chose it when we knew it would come to an end. But, really, we know the answer to that…and it’s the same answer that helps us breathe through the moments that hurt so much.

It’s Love. He lived it so well.

And so we laugh through the tears and smile and talk about the Andre stories…about the times he went swimming in places he shouldn’t have, about the time he ran into a tree, about the millions of ways he filled our lives with love.

We go on. Because the best way for us to honor his life is to live ours like he did.

Goodbye, sweet, sweet boy. You were a gift to us in ways we can’t even describe. We thought we were making your life better when we brought you home, but you were the one who made us better. Blessed us. And gave us a life full of love that will stay with us forever.

To Andre. You are forever a part of us…and forever in our hearts.

family-final

Sig

For a Season

walkingonsidewalk-final
I watched the two of them walk ahead of me for the almost-two-block distance to our house.

For the last time.

Hands clasped, any passerby would have believed they’d been friends for so much longer than a month.

And I thought back for a few moments…

It was a normal, early-June day, and a girl from the neighborhood, one I’d seen a few times, rode her bike down our sidewalk. My four-year-old was playing on her swing set, and I watched as the girl slowed her bike and came to a stop.

That was the only invitation my Mae needed.

Running over to her, she greeted her already-friend, and the two of them were playing together in seconds.

A few weeks later, her mom stopped by and chatted with me. Though I’d talked with her a handful of times in our four years on Wisconsin Street, this was the first time we’d talked in depth.

And it was in that conversation she mentioned she and her daughter were moving several states away at the end of July.

My heart felt a little pinch as I realized this new friendship for my daughter (and for me) was only for a short season.

And I realized that there have been times in life when I’ve questioned the seasons God gives us.

 ______________________

Today I’m over at God-sized Dreams, talking about the seasons He gives…and how He’s teaching me to trust that they are good. Join me?

200blogbuttonavatar

Sig

On Friendship and Celebrating

Kris&Mel-edited2
A story:
to preface the celebration. :)

Four years ago, we moved here to this strange land. Ok, ok…it was strange then. Now it’s pretty normal.

Well, as normal as Illinois can be. 😉

And it might be safe to say that I didn’t want to be here at all. I had to be, but I sure wasn’t choosing it, and I sure didn’t have a happy heart about it either.

The first few weeks were a blur, thanks to the teeny-tiny baby we had at the time. I rarely left the house except to go to Target. And Starbucks…I did find my way there a few times, too. Because, um, sleep deprivation. Yes, it must be countered with multiple shots of espresso.

Our neighborhood remained a mystery. We had a cute, blue house on the corner, but we didn’t know the people who lived near us. And during those weeks, I was more than ok with that.

Until. The night. When my husband forced me to walk across the street.

A neighbor had stopped by, one he had already met, to drop off a note for me. It was a sweet, welcome-to-the-neighborhood/would-you-like-to-come-to-Bible-study, letter from a woman across the street.

I smiled and went back to feeding Maelie…and sort of forgot about it.

But Tobin didn’t, and he made sure that we ALL marched across the street to say hello, meet her and her family, and give me a chance to accept her invitation.

My heart might not have been happy…but by then I was warming up to the idea of life here. I kind of had to.

And that night, I met Kris. From our first conversation (which lasted well over an hour) I knew we were going to be friends and not just neighbors. I saw the way she looked at my daughter, the way she genuinely wanted to know about us and our crazy lives…and when she offered me a ride the next morning and then went out of her way after Bible study to show me around town (I really hadn’t been out…) I found myself breathing thanks that, maybe, I finally had a friend.

And over the weeks that turned into months and then years, a friendship grew. It started off with little visits across the street and chats after Bible study. Then it turned into double dates and coffee dates and sometimes just chats on a porch…hers or mine.

A friend in Minnesota had told me, before we moved, that she was specifically praying that God would give me a good friend. I saw the answer to her prayer in Kris.

And in the past four years, it’s been such a sweet friendship. There have been ups and downs…for both of us. We’ve walked and prayed each other through some hard days…and we’ve celebrated a lot, too.

And today…well, it’s a celebration. A BIG one…the kind that starts with a 5 and ends with a 0.

😉

Today my beautiful friend turns 50…and though she might kill me (but only just a little…) for this, I think she deserves to be celebrated. She’s pretty fantastic…and she’s been a gift to me and my family…and a lot of other people, too.

She’s been such a big part of why we call this place home. And why we’re happy to call it that.

The happiest of birthdays to you, sweet friend.

Fifty looks pretty amazing on you.

Sig

Finding My Song Again

song-final
My heart pounded a little as I walked into the music room that Wednesday night, and there was really no reason for it. I mean, these were my friends, and singing with them was definitely nothing new or scary.

The normal, pre-practice chatter happened, and that was good, but then the singing started and it was a good thing that we were all sitting in a row and I was on the end because I couldn’t believe how fast the tears sprang to my eyes.

I made myself hold them back and sing the words, but it was hard, and I wondered that night if maybe…this season was over.

And I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around it because how does a season that has lasted 36 years just end like that?

How could a single event take such a big piece of me?

I thought it over during the next days as I half-dreaded Sunday morning. I didn’t want to say to anyone, I haven’t sung since before…

The truth is that in my mind, life is defined right now in two ways…Before. and After.

It’s not a conscious choice…it’s just how my brain thinks right now. :)

Certain things bring pain, and I’ve had to find where to draw the line so I can avoid what I need to…I’m not necessarily avoiding everything that’s difficult, but I’m not just throwing myself into all-things-painful, either. Does that make sense? 

I know it sounds crazy, but the night I started spotting, I was wearing this silly, sweet tank top with a giraffe on it. I haven’t worn it since. I can’t.

I also rarely go to Target. It’s too painful, especially walking by the baby section, which is much-too-conveniently located, smack dab, in the middle of the store. Our bank account is doing better thanks to this, but my heart aches over it. I’ve been back twice…once with a friend, once with my hubby. I didn’t make them hold my hand, but I was close. 😉

Same with Chipotle…which I craved up and down during those weeks. I just can’t go.

And there are other things that make the list, too…like the book I was reading that I haven’t picked up again, the song Blessings…and the list can go on and on.

And Sunday morning came because that’s just what happens when days pass…and while I was ok, I couldn’t fight back the tears as I walked into church, wondering what I was even doing.

I really felt like my song was gone. Maybe forever.

And even as I picked up a microphone for the first time in weeks, I had the sudden urge to run…I seem to be good at that, and it was what felt right at the moment, but I stayed.

And I sang.

And while it was no big deal, really, the morning was a scream of Hope that my heart desperately needed.

I needed to know that my song was still there. Somewhere.

And it was. IS.

He’s finding my song for me again.

He’s healing my heart, one little piece at a time.

He’s Good…and I’m so thankful.

Sig

Sometimes We Wait…

bike-waiting

It’s been a long time…in fact, the longest time I’ve gone without writing since I started the blog.

And probably at least twelve times in the last week…Twelve. That’s a lot. I’ve sat down and tried to write something. Anything.

You know, words.

Let’s be honest, I don’t always have something incredibly profound to share, but I usually have Words. Stories. A piece of the journey that has taught me something.

In all of the up and down that has been life during the last month, the one thing I never thought would disappear is the ability to write. And yet, for all of the writer’s block I had before, it’s a hundred times worse lately.

I hate that.

But I seem to always write better with coffee, so we’ll try. It’s always worth a try.

And? Well, no matter the season of life, coffee is one of those welcome constants…I always like coffee. :)

So, a few random things about life…lately…ish.

This girl…she is headed to PK4. And though she’s been four for Two. Whole. Months, I still can’t wrap my mind completely around the fact that she’ll be in school three mornings a week. Which means, pretty much, that I’m going to cry, and she’ll tell me to stop. 😉

1stDaySelfie-finalHere we are, bad lighting and all, before her Hello/Goodbye Day at school yesterday.
She is cute. And I need more sleep. 😉

I started running again. I took a necessary (but too long) hiatus, and can I just confess that even running three miles now feels a bit like torture? And not just physical, either. Honestly, I spent so many miles on the familiar, close-to-our-house, bike path…while I was pregnant. And during those miles, I talked to God, I praised Him, I sang along with my playlist, and I dreamed dreams for our new little one.

And so going out on that bike path now is just raw pain. I’m choosing to face the pain because I need to…I need to go there and move past it. Because there are certain realities…like the fact that our house is less than 100 yards from the path. Even if I never go back to the path, it’s still going to be there.

It’s my next step forward.

And people still ask…how are you?

And if I’m in a blunt mood, I’ll probably tell you how much I dislike that question before I say anything else because, the truth is, I don’t know how to answer it.

I always feel like people want to hear, I’m great! Or, even just good.

The truth? Is that I ache and cry far more than I want to. I’ve gone exactly one day without crying in a month. One. I don’t even remember what day that was…I just remember that it happened. And thought it sounds a bit crazy…that one day out of 31 gives me Hope.

I need Hope. Lots of it.

And maybe, right now, that Hope comes in different ways. Small ways. Through coffee with friends and heart chats, through park adventures with my girl and a late-night Google hangout with a sister.

God gave me a word last spring as we flew over oceans and crossed cultures, and even in a moment of uncertainty and even fear, I knew that He was telling me that my purpose was to share my Journey.

I had no idea that this…loss…was supposed to be part of that journey. I didn’t want it to be.

But I think I forget sometimes that the journey twists and turns. We can’t always see what’s next.

And there are other times when the journey seems to stop. It doesn’t, really…but He does ask us to wait. Trust. Breathe…knowing that He has us where we’re supposed to be.

And that’s where life is right now.

There are blessings…and I’ve tried to be intentional about seeing them. Counting them. Giving thanks for each time a smile comes.

And there are hard moments, too…and rather than throwing them away, I try to remember His promises. We know JOY comes in the morning.

And so we wait for it.

And we find reasons to smile along the way, too. :)

Photo Credit: Motiqua

Sig

A Small Act

daisy-final

We walked with her through the crowds several Saturdays ago, her hands joining us as a family of three. Amid the chaotic scenes of ferris wheel lines and bouncy houses galore, the permeating scents of greasy, delicious cheese curds and deep fried Oreos, and the musical sounds leading up to Mandisa, I felt myself breathing thanks again.

Thank you, God, for this moment. For today…that we can be us.

And I had no idea that He was going to take that moment and etch it in our hearts forever.

You see, as we walked through the Freedom Fest, held every year in Janesville, Wisconsin, our sweet four year-old daughter stopped. She let go of my hand and turned to her daddy.

“Daddy?” She pointed toward two middle school-aged girls sitting on the ground, having a snack. “Daddy, those two girls are so beautiful! Can I tell them they’re beautiful?”

He smiled and released her hand, and in all of her 40 inches of tallness, she bravely walked over to them.

“You’re really beautiful!”

The girls smiled back and returned her words. “Thank you. So are you!”

And what my husband noticed, that I somehow missed, was the true reaction of the two girls our daughter had bravely approached. Her simple words had made their day…and he could tell it just by the looks on their faces.

Our sweet girl had taken the time to go beyond herself to make someone else’s day.

Today I’m over at God-sized Dreams, talking about doing for others in the middle of our dreaming. Will you join me? :)

200blogbuttonavatar

Sig

On Life…and Monday and Coffee. But Mostly Life.

day lilies-final

About a week ago, I walked outside…and what I saw made the tears drip almost immediately.

At the beginning of the summer, my dear friend had given me some day lilies to replant in our yard. Being the awesome, motivated, person I am, they sat in a wagon for two days before I got around to actually putting them in the ground.

And for several weeks…I wondered. Watched them turn brown-ish. And figured they were probably beyond hope.

But when I walked out and looked at them on that Friday afternoon…

HOPE. In the form of beautiful, orange blossoms. And I knew God had sent me a little hug, a reminder…that He can always bring beauty, even on the days we feel like we’re dying.

And that’s where I am right now…in that place of waiting on Hope. Of trying to live even though, honestly, some days it feels like the life is being sucked out.

And writing…well it’s such a huge part of how I live. And so there are days, like today, when I just pound out the words and hope they mean something in the end. 😉

And? It’s Monday. Oh, Monday. How I looooove thee.

Can you just hear the sarcasm dripping? In fact, I think it’s dripping right into my coffee… 😉

What is it about Mondays? Seriously. Even as a stay-at-home mom, I don’t generally embrace them happily. Or, even embrace them at all.

But the fact that they can come with coffee, so long as I can find my way to the kitchen to actually make it…well, that might make them look just a little better.

So let’s have a coffee chat, since it’s waaaaay early on Monday and there is coffee in my mug. Thank you, Jesus, for that.

I was telling my hubby that time feels like it’s crawling right now. It’s been such a long two weeks.

In some ways that’s good. I mean, I’ve said often how bittersweet it is to watch my girlie growing up so quickly. The years are FLY. ING. And, yet, somehow, the days that have made up life since July 22nd…well, they’ve been plenty long.

The truth is that the ache is an ever-present thing. I’ve had to find distractions, sometimes purposely creating them. Loads of laundry that aren’t quite full yet might just get washed anyway to fill some minutes. Cleaning underneath the couch, (oy…) yeah, maybe that happened, too. Sort of. And I don’t forget to water my plants and flowers anymore, either. 😉

I find myself desperate to make the days go by.

Maybe that’s normal?

But by Friday night, I was so ready for something to be different. I’d been out one other night that week for the every-28-days haircut/color. (Totally serious.) But I needed…to think. To just be. In a quiet place where talking didn’t need to happen unless I felt like it. So I called my favorite nail salon and made a pedi appointment. Of course, I arrived and the place was busier than I’d ever seen it. Goodbye quiet and hello, woman next to me loudly proclaiming her joy that her friend was pregnant.

I went home that night, cute mint green toenails and all, and cried. Probably more than I’d cried yet.

And so on Saturday, we ventured A.W.A.Y. Downtown away, via Portillo’s because Chocolate Cake Shake. Enough said. 😉 And then we sat in traffic for a small forever and found the zoo. A fun day for Mae because she needed it…and she declared it the Best. Day. Ever. We were glad for her, even if we might not have shared her sentiments. 😉 Seeing her excited was fun, though. We needed fun, and we needed to smile. Even laugh, especially when she announced to several people that the wild hog was “SO cute.” Golly, I love her. :)

usatzoo
And yesterday. Let’s just say it’s not how I imagined we’d ring in 12 years of wedded, up-and-down, bliss. We’d had plans to go downtown overnight but decided not to leave for that long and had even debated whether to really celebrate…that word just doesn’t work right now. But our sweet, amazing friends had offered to take Mae to church and hang with her for the afternoon, and…who turns that down?

So we bummed around an area about 30 minutes from us. Drank some really bad coffee. (Seriously. I think this former-barista girl should’ve gone back behind the bar to teach them how to Make. A. Latte.) Walked and wandered a lot. Ended up at a really fun flea market and bought a bookshelf and two trinkets for the porch wall.

That might have been what made me cry for the first time that day…and in front of a complete stranger, too. But sometimes…yeah.

And we found a pizza place for an appetizer and a water (because I’m boring when I drink liquid) and played cribbage and talked about life. About how we’ll never forget the crazy trip to South Africa or the Thailand adventures. About parenting and how it’s filled us and left a huge hole all at the same time. About a little girl who has brought so much joy to our days, a kind of joy for which we will be eternally grateful.

And we talked about our sweet baby, the one who has been gone just shy of two weeks and it feels like two years. The one we named Carly Kristine…and we talk about her in our house, and it just feels right even though it makes us cry.

And I was reminded again that even in the ups and downs, there’s no other person I’d rather walk this journey with. Happy anniversary, Tobin…I. Love. You.

Tob & Mel 12 years-final
And I thought a little, too, about how writing is how I cope right now. It’s how I process life, and I don’t worry so much about how or what I write but more about where my heart is when I write the words.

And it goes back to my Father. Because He knows and He loves…and though there are times I have to remind myself of His love, it’s always there.

And maybe in all of these words and stories, I’m just trying to survive. And He’s giving me a way to survive. To live. It’s important.

And some days we just breathe…and figure it out as we go.

Thank you to all of you who have been praying…you need to know that your prayers mean the world to us. And that we’re ok…because He’s holding us.

To Monday, a new week…and the adventures that are waiting. :)

Sig

Five-Minute Friday: Begin

balloonsforbabyS
Today I’m linking up with Lisa-Jo for Five-Minute Friday. So, grab a timer, set it for five minutes, and join me!

The rules: Write for five minutes. No editing, revising, overthinking, or backtracking. Just write. Then leave some comment love for the person who linked up before you…and anyone else because that’s the fun and the heart of the community! And this is the last week Five-Minute Friday will be hosted by Lisa-Jo…next week begins a new era and a new host.

Today’s prompt: Begin

Begin, begin. Where?

My heart isn’t even sure I have the words to begin again, not after the week and a few days we’ve had. Loss, heartbreak, so many tears…I feel like I’ve lost who I am…and my words…in all of it.

I know this is how it is, this grief thing. That when there’s a loss, it takes time. It takes a lot of tissues. And then it takes more time, even.

And then, maybe, there’s a whisper in my soul that says it’s ok. To laugh through the tears. To smile when it hurts. To find the joy, even when there’s pain.

It’s how to begin again…this life. The kind of beginning that says We love you so much, sweet baby. And now we begin this journey of forever missing you.

And we can only pray that there’s something beautiful, something that will always whisper of His promise that He makes all things beautiful in His time.

Not ours. His.

And so we trust that there will be beauty here. Somehow.

And until then, we lean on Him to make the ache just a little less.

And we breathe deeply and begin another day.

Because He’s Good.

Still.

Five Minute Friday

Sig