An infusion of excitement

I got a call tonight from some of my favorite kids, they got a package I sent them full of some goodies for easter. It was a quick conversation and kind of difficult to understand, but that is what do you expect from five kids all talking at the same time. No matter what there excitement was intoxicating. There are few things better than the happiness of a grateful child. At the end of a long tiring week it was nice to have an infusion of excitement to carry me through. Now I need to start planning my next package to them, I wonder what goodies I can find.

Tomorrow will be a little bit easier and I will become a stronger me everyday.


A beautiful day in the neighborhood.

This year marks the 50th anniversary of the primer of Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood and today is the 15th anniversary of Fred Rogers passing. Like so many, as a child I loved Mr. Rogers. He had such a magical tone to his voice that made you feel like he truly cared about you. I remember being shocked when I learned he had passed away in 2003. It felt like my childhood was officially over. I know that sounds a little strange, I was 16 and clearly not a child anymore, but there was something odd about knowing that there would never be new adventures to be had with Mr. Rogers.

Today, a PBS article popped up in my facebook memories from 2015. It is entitled  “Watch Mister Rogers’ heart-warming message to his grownup fans“. The short minute and a half video was filmed a few months before his death and is worded perfectly. As always in his calm voice he gave one last encouraging word to the generations of viewers that he impacted. Each person is unique and different with our own worries and troubles. We all have fears we are facing and struggle to find hope at times. Somehow even at 31 hearing that Mr. Rogers likes me just the way I am brings a tear to my eye and reminds me of how strong I am.

“… I would like to tell you what I often told you when you were much younger. I like you just the way you are. ”

Tomorrow will be a little bit easier and I will become a stronger me everyday.


In the three days I spent with my cousins two year old twins I was asked “why?” more times than I can count. It was often exhausting and difficult to come up with answers that their curious little minds would accept, but when you came up with something, and the “why’s” finally stopped you felt accomplished to have won. Sadly, I think I only won 2 times, but they were such sweet successes.

As kids get older they stop asking as many questions. Possibly they are able to answer many without asking, or have been discouraged from being as curious one too many times and gave up wondering. No matter what the reason I think it is sad that at some point we become accustom to what is, instead of questioning what could be.

Over the years I have noticed that I am sometimes the annoying two year old to those around me constantly asking why. Fortunately, I have google to ask when someone around me is tired of questions or has no clue the answer. I was raised to be curious and have a desire to learn. I am thankful every day that my parents instilled and encouraged that constant wonder inside of me.

At one point this past weekend I realized how much I missed being asked “why?” in sweet little two year old voices. Despite the frustration it causes, it is such a wonderful thing to be around people, big or little, who crave answers to questions that can not always be explained. Sometimes it is not the questions that matter, it is the fact that we choose to ask why.

Tomorrow will be a little bit easier and I will become a stronger me everyday.

One year later.

This morning I woke up with an odd feeling in my chest. Not exactly an ache, it was more like I was unable to catch my breath. Even now after the whole day has gone by the feeling has not fully disappeared. This process so far has been long and difficult and I know I am not close to being done dealing with the residual effects. Every step I have taken since this day last year has brought me so far from where I started. I am so thankful for each person who has been a positive force during that time. Each prayer and gesture has meant more to me than I can express.

Over the past few days I have cried more consistently than I have in months, but at every tear I was so supported. I am beyond thankful for all of my family, but in particular my cousin and her family. Her five kids kept me laughing and running around so much I hardly had time to think. There were a few times that her husband did some extra running around and put the kids to bed alone so I could have some extra time with my cousin. The past few evenings we have had some chats that went far too late and I am grateful that she took the time with me when I am sure she would have rather been in bed. Some people might think they have amazing families, but I have proof that for me it is true.

One year ago tonight I cried myself to sleep and had no clue what I was going to wake up to the next morning. Tonight I might go to bed with tears in my eyes, but with a heart full of hope and memories of a wonderful weekend.

Tomorrow will be a little bit easier and I will become a stronger me everyday.

The journey.

Never did I expect to make it through this weekend without tears, but I had hoped to make it a little farther into it before they started. I am not really scared to cry, but it is not my favorite thing do. From the beginning I have felt it is important to let my emotions out when I can, bottling them up does nothing to help me as I heal. I am sure the last of my tears have not been shed, but in time I hold hope that the sting they hold will lessen. Strength does not need to come with a hard shell, what it needs is faith that moves mountains.

This space filled with words has become my outlet to hold many of my emotions and process thoughts. I am glad I have documented my journey because it is so encouraging to see how far I have come. In some ways the time has moved slowly. There were days I felt like I held my breath all day to stop myself from crying. Other days I felt strong, but still very broken. My story feels more like something you would see as the plot of a movie or tv show and I have to remind myself that it really did happen. Each time I tell someone about it the disbelief is only halted by the look in my eyes that shows the reality.

This weekend will be good for me. There is nothing like being surrounded by family (including 5 crazy kids) to make the toughest situation alright. If I need to talk they will listen, if I need to cry there is nothing stopping me and with so many people around I am never alone.

Tomorrow will be a little bit easier and I will become a stronger me everyday.


Today the local elementary school put on their musical, The Wizard of Oz jr. The actors made us fall in love with the scarecrow, tin man and lion all over again as they swept us far away from Kansas and off to Oz. The show was so well cast, each of the leads fully embraced their rolls making the entire thing so captivating. I must admit I was sad when it was over.

Over the years I have been to many of the elementary school performances, and this is the best one yet. I look forward to seeing many of the actors on the same stage next year and a few will be moving up to the high school performances. No matter what they have to look forward to on the stage, I hope they know that they were a part of something very special this year. After all every cast is different, and every show unique and you can never go back again.

Tomorrow will be a little bit easier and I will become a stronger me everyday.

No hair, don’t care.

I have been lazy lately and have not been running. I hate running when it is too hot, so I simply have not put in the effort. Today all that changed. When I got home from work all I wanted to do was sit on the couch like a lump, but instead I put on my running shoes and hit the road. I managed a slow three-mile run. Not amazing, but a pretty good way to get back in the game.


At one point in my run I was coming up on a little boy and his mom. When the mom saw I was there she pulled the boy out-of-the-way, I was not really worried about passing them, but it was a nice gesture. I made sure to say thank you. As I was passed them I heard the little boy say he thought I was a boy because my hair is so short. I caught the very beginning of the mom saying that girls can have short hair too. I thought it was a cute exchange and I would have liked to hear the rest of the conversation, but on I went.

I read an article a few months ago about how so many women cut their hair after going through a break up as a way feel like they are regaining control of their lives. I guess I took it to the extreme, but who do I have to impress? I remember the amazing weight that was lifted off my shoulders as I stood in my parents bathroom taking scissors to my hair. It was a horrible scraggly cut, but at the time all that mattered was that it was gone. Over the next few months my hair got shorter and shorter until we got to the point it is at now.

Personally, I sometimes forget my hair is so short. I guess it is out of sight, out of mind. The ease of such short hair is amazing. Sometimes I wonder why I spent so many years putting up with my long curly hair and I think of all that wasted time dealing with humidity and hair ties! Now, give me a good set of buzzers and a hat for when it gets cold and I am set!

Tomorrow will be a little bit easier and I will become a stronger me everyday.