one for the ages--a love story

Way too often--we look at the world through a pair of prescription lens.
The only problem is, these lens were prescribed by Mr. Cynic, himself.
We no longer believe in love stories, sun shine, or frankly, even happiness.
Don't think I'm counting myself out of the mix, either.
I, the eternal optimist; one who never gives up hope in anyone or anything--am guilty as well.

But today, in UofL Hospital-Room 732, proof of hope and love existing in a broken world was had.

It's not that I didn't know my grandparents loved each other,
I suppose it was simply taken for granted.
But they--they're past their prime, you see.
What do they need with love?

Most of the time, my Peepaw is too busy picking on Meemaw for me to see any passion or love pass between them.
I'm a bit more like him in that regard.
Whereas Meemaw is sensitive, prone to tears of joy, sadness, pain--well, just tears;
Peepaw is more prone to laughter or more often than not, sarcasm.
I used to wonder how they ever found one another or thought to mesh.
Peepaw, Mr. Sociable; Meemaw, let's just be quiet.
Republican vs. Democrat; rambuxious vs. subdued--
Just all around 'different'.

Lately, they've been through so much, there hasn't been much time for romance.
These days they were supposed to spend, quietly basking in the glow of retirement and no children, have instead been spent on worries, exhaustion, deaths, caretaking, medical bills, and restless nights.
No traveling like they had pictured--
No relaxing days at all.
Sure, I've heard the stories of green taffeta dresses, wedded bliss, and candlelight dinners--
but I guess it never sunk in.

Until my Peepaw broke down for the first time in my life.
The strongest man I'll ever know--hands like steel, shoulders like brick, taller than a skyscraper.
19 years and I've never seen that man loose his composure.
Not when his daughter was dying, not when he buried his mother, father, and a brother; not even when he was past the point of going.

Until he faced the possibility of life without my Meemaw.
When they told him Sunday night that they didn't think she would make it--
Peepaw couldn't make it.
"I'm not ready--I can't walk in that house without her.--
I'm not ready."
My grandparents have been married for 54 years--but that wasn't enough for him.
And here I sometimes questioned if they even liked one another.

While we waited through procedures, tests, and well, just waiting,
Peepaw paced and prayed; prayed and paced.
Until they let him by her side.
He's a controller--yeah, it's kind of what our family does; sorry. =/
And his instinct took over.
Fluffing her pillow, covering her up, showering her--always moving at a constant speed.
Since Saturday night, he has yet to leave her side.
He sleeps in a chair next to her bed--
but mostly, he just lays and watches.

How many times have I heard that man say "Oh, Larkie"--and look to the Heavens in exasperation.
And how many times have I heard her respond "Oh hush" with a pout.

This is what love is.
This is what should be glorified in story books, not a silly story of a glass slipper.
Our minds and hearts have been fooled into thinking that love is this and relationships are that; but when it comes right down to it, sometimes, you just have to get through.

It's not always going to be perfect or easy or fun.
Hell, you're not always going to like one another.
But when you have someone to hold your hand, and help you walk, and change your clothes, and feed you--
When you have someone that knows your thoughts--and can talk to you with a look, and read you like a book, and can calm you with a touch.
That is love.
Love is needing someone--Love is putting up with someone's bad qualities because they somehow complete you.
Because the truth is, no relationship is perfect, ever.
There are always some ways you have to bend, to compromise, to give something up in order to gain something greater. But, the love we have for each other is bigger than these small differences.
And thats the key.
It's like a big pie chart, and the love in a relationship has to be the biggest piece.
Love can make up for a lot.

Attraction fades--
Romance dwindles--
and the roses and chocolates won't always be there.
But look around at what the love of 2 people has created.
Children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren--
all there at a moment's notice because of what they mean, because of what this family means.

Who am I to speak of love or marriage, right?
I'm 19 years old with little to no real world experience--
but I know enough.

I know what a real love story is.
And this one has nothing to do with ball gowns, kisses at midnight, or an attractive prince (sorry Peepaw).
So take that cynics of the world.

Who needs Cinderella anyways?
I'm living a love story--

that is all.

thanksgiving wasn't meant to be confined to just one day

I'm a stickler for tradition--
Change, to me, is evil at it's very conception.
So the fact that I am not at a Thanksgiving dinner cooked by my Meemaw and Peepaw in the formal dining room of 206 Locust St. should be killing me.
Really--
it should be.
The fact that the same broccoli casserole and pumpkin pie recipes of my childhood are not going to be appearing in my Thanksgiving horizon should have me up in arms.

Maybe that's what growing up is all about.
The realization that some things are just more important.
Especially on a day set aside for thanksgiving.

This turkey day, while I sit in a hospital waiting room, typing papers, and reading books about politics, I'll keep one thought in mind.

I don't care that my tradition is destroyed, or that my ritual has been cancelled;
because to be perfectly honest, the most important constant is present.
I am surrounded by the ones that I love.
And sure, we may be spending our time in uncomfortable chairs, and sure we might be eating lunch in a Cracker Barrel instead of around my great-great grandma's oak table, and sure we might smell like hand sanitizer and medicine--
but we are together.
And we are arguing and punching each other and moving at a constant speed of 100 mph like always.
And we have my Meemaw.

And all that is worth giving up a million brocolli casseroles and a billion pumpkin pies forever.
I of all people have reason to be thankful this year.

So God, thanks--
give us one more, huh?

that is all.

a.d.d.

I have trouble concentrating.
Should you know me, even for a short time--
this you will have discovered.
I can't control my thoughts, and so they simply tumble out.
Filter--
what's that?
It takes me an hour to tell a five minute story because I get off track and tell 11 more stories before ever reaching my point.

I have to tell every single, superfluous detail.
I've never been able to "think" my prayers silently.
Otherwise, my mind will jumble and travel in a thousand different directions going a thousand miles per hour.
So I have to pray aloud--
and well, even that sometimes runs amuk.
So I use a different strategy; prayer journal.
I actually have to write down my prayers, or my thoughts will never make it on a single track.
Try getting your notebook out and rustling pages everytime someone says "let us pray."
Frankly--it's exhausting.


There are few people in this world who truly understand what goes on inside of my heart and mind.
The speed that my thoughts run and then change is a lot to keep up with.
The feeling to always be here and there, to fix this and that, to say it right, do it better is always there.
So many times I leave a place and am worn out from the whirring inside of me going non stop.

To be perfectly honest, my reality would suprise most people.

I'm shy.
You just rolled your eyes, don't deny it.
I hate ordering in restraunts, knocking on doors, or meeting new people--
Sometimes, it makes me sick to my stomach.

I like being mellow.
Again with the eye rolling.
I am loud, obnoxiously perky, and giggly for most of my existence--
but my happiest is when I don't feel the need to be loud, obnoxiously perky, and giggly.

Contrary to popular belief--I have emotions.
A fair lot of them.
I would just rather breathe through something than break down and out.
And because I'm not into the whole "feel your feelings and share them" thing--
my image gets somewhat misconstrued.

But the truth is--this isn't me hiding behind an image or mask.
This is just me striving to be a person that I percieve.
It’s like, there’s this person that you want to be for other people. To make them proud of you. And then there’s you. And sometimes it’s hard to tell where one ends and the other begins.

So you're not being fake or hidden or masked--
you're simply being another version of yourself.

I guess what makes me so blessed is that I've found the people that I can be whatever, whoever, whenever I need to be.
Very rarely does someone balance me well enough to fit my different facets into the right places.
My friends--my family--they are my fitters and balancers.

And when I come before Jesus Christ, he sees me as his child.
In my basic, most pure form.
A sinner who fails--but keeps striving.
And he doesn't care if I'm obnoxiously loud or am dull and silent.

And you know what?
That's enough for me.

that is all.

God send

Every so often,
you need a night.
One night where life seems to fall into place.
A night to sing Moulin Rouge and old country with your best bud--
to sit around a bonfire playing catchphrase--
to make mini adventures and have time--
and to help.
To lay on couches until 3 in the morning "counseling", even though you have to be up by 7 to pray--
Too meet new people--
and to feel God move your heart.

Every so often,
you have a good day.
Full of fun photoshoots, Thanksgiving dinner, and girl talk.

Every so often,
you get that perfect outfit.
Skinny jeans, flats, a Run-D.M.C. shirt, and some zebra print--topped off with a leather jacket.

Thanks God.
After everything going on--I was getting a little fidgety.


So this Thanksgiving, be thankful.
Mine?
Hey--I'm just happy for those good days that get me through the bad.

God always sends exactly what I need--exactly when I need it.
I pray you have that day.

that is all.

rely

Lately--I have been finding my joy in other things.
Specifically, other people--my friends, my KD sisters, anything or anyone but alone time in Christ.
I can't tell you when the last moment I spent on my own was--let alone the last time I had a quiet moment to reflect and rely on Jesus Christ.
And to be perfectly honest--I was content to allow the process continuation.

Love of myself was more important than my relationship with Christ--who IS love.
Wow, Hunter.
Sarcastic high five on that one.
For some reason, we humans find the need to validate our own lives and existence through others.
Through friendships, and relationships, family members, and activities.
But the truth of the matter is--we have each already been validated.
The fact alone that the God of the universe sent his only Son to die--a painfilled and grotesque death, substantiates us each individually.
Yet we continue to feel worthless.
Don't deny it.
If our fellow human beings felt worth--then young girls wouldn't feel the need to act in certain ways to gain the attentions of the opposite sex, young men wouldn't feel the constant need to impress one another, and instead of working everyday at jobs they loathe to simply "earn the buck"--then the people of the world would stand up, work toward their calling and say to Hell with labels and interests; economy and stocks.
Do not think that I mean to exclude myself from any such categorizations.
If anything--I write this as a confession of my own shortcomings.

If I were to truly strive to see myself and others through the eyes and heart of Christ--rather than those of man--then I would find no need to kill myself to make that grade, fix that person, entertain that group.
So this Sunday, I want you to know that you are a treasure.
Something is worth only what is paid for it--and you were paid for with precious, perfect blood.
Stop seeing yourself as someone lacking.
Quit looking in the mirror and pointing out your flaws.
Don't wish for different tomorrows but find hope in your todays.
And in the same way that your seek to view yourself as a unique creation in Christ,
seek to view others likewise.
You'd be amazed to see the pure transformation that can take place in your heart.

This probably all sounds like a cliche, motivational bunch of bull--
but the truth is--it's something people need to hear.
We don't talk like this anymore, but it's not because those thoughts and feelings are gone,
but because we have lost the courage to search them out.

Dear ___________,
You are special.
And you are special because God the father, in his infinite wisdom created you.
He created you for a specific purpose.
And he LOVES you.

Not the love that you toss around in temporary relationships, lasting friendships, or even the earthly love of your family.
Let that love sink in.
Let it wash over you.
Rely on that love--
and most importantly, share it.

that is all.