Remembering your memories one photograph at a time...

You’re gonna miss this…

August 3, 2018

{this was taken and written April 2nd 2015)

There is this song that comes on every single day. It’s one of the top 10 country songs right now so they play it every 3rd song or something crazy obnoxious. It’s a beautiful song but I just can’t listen to it. As soon as I hear the melody I have to change the station. Sometimes I think I want to hear it so I let it play then I quickly turn off the radio altogether because I realize, I’m still not ready. There is this one line in the chorus where he says: “..And you know that if I had just one wish it’d be that you didn’t have to miss this..” Those words literally bring me to my knees because I actually say that almost every time I witness something they would be proud of the girls or of me for.

Last year, I noticed I was spending far too much time grieving. Grieving is healthy. You have to get through it so really the only way to do that is to grieve. But I was doing the kind of grieving where all the heart breaking moments were sticking out in my life far more than the happy ones. Every day was another sad day to remember. I lost him today, lost her today, today was the day I got the call something was wrong.. Today was the day we buried him.. Buried her.. They really start to add up. Those kind of days tear you down. They leave you feeling like you’re constantly missing a piece of you. I would post on Facebook like they could hear me or read it from heaven or something.

Then one day I realized, they wouldn’t want me to spend every day crying because they’re not here. They aren’t really missing this.. This thing I’m crying over.. They’re watching it from the best seat. So, I decided to stop mourning the days I’ve lost and start celebrating the days of happiness.

Today, the woman who filled the role of my mom since I was 5 years old would have been 82.

I use to take the jewelry from her jewelry box. I would try it on, admire myself in the mirror draped in my favorite things she wore while pretending I was a mommy. She didn’t love that I dressed up in her things and she asked me several times not to, but I was 6ish. There was this one opal ring that always seem to catch my eye. I don’t know what it was about that ring but it was my favorite. One day I went outside to play with a friend and forgot I had it on. When I came back inside I realized the opal had fallen out. I cried and cried, I ran back down the street to look under the swing set where I had been, I asked my friend to help look.. It was no where. I went home sad and scared of what my consequences would be for losing it because I knew I wasn’t suppose to have played with it. But she wrapped her arms around me, told me it was ok and put the empty ring back in the jewelry box.

Having known this story, how much that ring meant to me and how hard it has been to not focus on missing her all the time, my husband bought me an opal ring for her birthday. Now every time I look down at my hand, I will not only be reminded of my nana but of the grace I was given and the grace I need to give.

Today, we are celebrating. We are not grieving.

The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. Psalm 34:18

This is the day The Lord has made. We will rejoice and be glad in it. Psalm 118:24

I don’t yell. But sometimes I do.

August 3, 2018

I don’t yell. But sometimes I do.

When I was a little girl, I was adopted by my grandparents when I was 5 years old. But what a lot of people do not know is for a few years my dad got his life together and married a woman that had 2 kids of her own so my grandparents thought it would be good for me to live with my dad and experience siblings. I was 8 years old. If I ever broke something whether it be on accident or because I was doing something I shouldn’t have, my step mother would scream at me. She would scream so loudly and violently and angrily that she would spit in my face. One night, when I was sleeping I woke up to them arguing and I walked out to see my dad holding a knife to her neck and she was crying. He was not a violent person. I actually don’t think I ever even heard him raise his voice. He had relapsed and they were fighting about it. Maybe she would lose her temper with me like she did because she was so overwhelmed with their problems that she couldn’t handle more stress. Maybe because she married a guy with a drug problem. Maybe she knew before they got married, maybe she didn’t. But either way, if you’ve ever loved anyone with an addiction, you know, it is a constant emotional roller coaster. For as long as I can remember, his addiction was a big ugly secret no one talked about. He didn’t want her to tell me that he had a problem and when they saw me in the hall way, she pointed to me, he let go of her and she told me everything while he sat there and cried. Shortly after that, I went back to live with my grandparents.
You’re probably thinking how heartbreaking that story is. You’re right. Unfortunately, that’s only one of about a dozen of my childhood memories that replay in my head randomly. The light in my story was and always will be the people who saved me. By the grace of God I made it through those times. I remember one day I climbed on the counter to reach a glass to get a drink and I dropped the glass while I was trying to get down. I immediately fell to the floor and started crying and shaking in fear. My grandmother came in saw me and saw the glass. She hugged me and then cleaned up the mess and said- it’s okay, it’s just a glass.
Today, the girls were play fighting in the living room, whipping each other with a blanket because one had the TV remote and the other wanted it. All I could hear from my bathroom while I was getting ready was laughing. Until I heard crying. Addisyn came and got me with tears in her eyes and said Emma and I broke the glass bowl on the table in the living room. We were doing something we shouldn’t have and we knocked it over and there is glass all over, but we are really very sorry. She hung her head, her sister sat in the corner crying and holding the dogs so they didn’t get into the broken mess.
In that moment as I looked at my girls, it was like I hit the pause button on life and then everything rewound really quickly back to when my dad and my step mom were fighting then played slowly through the memory and paused again just as my grandmom said “it’s just a glass.” And then real life came back and it was like God gently wrapped up the lesson I learned from that hard time and what my grandmom had said and tied it with a bow made out of how I could use that lesson in my current life. What a gift the hard times are. It may not seem like it in that moment. But he always works for our good. Romans 8:28.
I wanted to yell because they know better and it’s frustrating. But all I could hear was my grandmother saying “it’s just a glass, it’s ok.” I muttered those same words as I asked them to get the vacuum. It is just a glass. It’s replaceable.

t e n

August 3, 2018

{my friend Rachel took this picture of us- find her at rachelwhitsonphotography.com}

10 years.

If I were to write a book about our life from beginning to now, I would probably lose you at year 3. It was ugly and messy and not at all what it is today.

Although, it was always perfect in the eyes of God which would look fully flawed to any onlooking person. But I’m proud of where we have come. Every bump, bruise and crack holds a story, a lesson, a piece of wisdom that we can pass along to our children. An heirloom of Godly knowledge that only comes from those imperfect moments. I’m going to share just a small piece of what that book might look like.

One day I woke from a dream where I was sitting on a limb of tree that was about to break, on the outside, looking in at a house that had been weathered by the strongest of storms, once a beautiful home that was build on love. I decided the house had too much value to just let it rot and I had to give it everything I had.

We tore down the wallpaper of hurtful words, the ceiling of guilt, the harsh light of pride, the floors of mistakes that we continuously walked and all that was left were the bare walls that made up who we were. We had the option to dig our roots deeper, build the foundation out of concrete rather than the sand it sat on before. And in that moment of calm breeze flowing through our empty house, the rain cleansed our souls and God poured himself back in. As we started to decorate our life again, we only allowed in goodness. We painted the walls in love. We hung pictures of those hard times so that we would never forget where we came from and how easily it was to go back there. Put up curtains of grace and wrote God’s word on the ceilings so that when we found our selves in harsh waters again we knew to look up. This time we put down carpet so that our knees had a soft place to fall and every night we vowed to show our children what it looks like to thank God for it all.

Thank you to each one of our friends and family for the bricks of love and support you added in our house. Each one a representation of your help it took to get here. This is ten. ❤

My Glitter and My Glue

August 3, 2018

At church the other morning they talked about how you could parent two different children the same, love them the same, guide them the same, discipline them the same and how different they would still be. The pastor described it as “night and day.” I see what he was doing there, because God crested night and he created day so they are still made perfect in his vision. However, the girl mom I am likes to think of it more girly. I wrote this for my girls on Mother’s Day this May.

Glitter and glue.

My dearest Glitter,

You wake up with a smile every morning, happy and excited to bring sunshine to even the cloudiest of days. You are constantly dancing, singing, twirling, flipping through life. You love with your whole heart and ever so thoughtfully make people smile or laugh or feel loved and appreciated. You have your daddy’s quick wit and at times don’t even realize how funny you are. You have your mama’s discernment and you can sense when someone just needs a hug. You are so loving and kind that it scares me to know you so openly let everyone in. I want so badly to protect you but at the same time, I don’t want to discourage you because this world needs more people that love like you do. Watching you drop bits of glitter wherever you go is one of my greatest joys in life.

My faithful Glue,

You are more cautious than carefree. You wake up slowly as if you’re waiting for the world to let you know it’s ok to rise. You question everything. Ever.y.thing. You have to know exactly why and how things work or not. You soak up knowledge like a sponge and you educate your daddy and I every single day. At times you’re what holds us all together, reminding us of what is important in this life. You are perceptive and love to just watch and listen. You have your daddy’s drive. You don’t take “no” for an answer and you never give up. I know one day you will do great things, but you sure don’t make it easy on your mama. People gravitate towards your charisma and charm… (also your daddy in you). Your teachers say that you’re never alone because everyone loves to be around you. I hope you keep that gentle spirit about you through the popularity. You have no idea how beautiful you are and while you get that from me, I pray you see the positivity in that. I love watching you look at life differently. You will always be the child that looks before she leaps but lands firmly on her feet. You have been this family’s glue at times holding us together when all we could see were our own wants, and other times we are your glue, holding you together as your passion and emotion sometimes get the best of you.

No matter how hard {or easy} this life seems moment to moment, I know I will always have my glitter + my glue. Thank you for making me a mama.

Catching the Croshaw’s

July 2, 2018

Late January in Chicago is usually frigid. A week before this picture was taken, it was -30 degrees with the windchill and you couldn't dress warm enough. My husband had accepted a job offer with his company for a position at their corporate office in South Florida. We always take an announcement photo and I write something from the heart and post the two together on social media so that our friends and family can keep up with us. When it came time to take our picture and make the announcement, it was like God knew what I was thinking in my mind and he called down to Mother Nature and said "let it be warm(ish)."

Since we (the girls and I) are originally from Florida so we had to make a statement that the beach girls are finally going home to the beach from the cold... and all I could think of was bathing suits mixed with snow gear. One daughter thought it was a fun idea and one thought I was crazy.. but went along with it anyway. It was 52 degrees when we took this picture but you can't tell because our excitement to finally be back near the beach was warmth enough.