My (Actual) Darling Daughter

I have been neglecting this blog for a long time. I'm not 100% sure why, since I have been learning a lot of great life lessons I would want to pass down to my daughter someday. Oh yeah, and I have AN ACTUAL DAUGHTER now!! Her name is Joyce Eden and she is perfect. 

Joyce, I knew from the moment I met you that you were meant to be my baby. I have never felt so deeply about another person before, and I cannot imagine loving you more than I already do (though I know you'll do something later that will explode my heart even bigger and I will somehow manage to love you more). You're almost a year and a half old now and you are the most perfect child. I mean, you have your moments, as all kids do, but there is just something about you that is so sweet and so special.

When you were born, I was completely amazed by you, but the doctors were concerned about some of your features. Your ears were tiny. One stuck out, and the other was pretty flat against your head. They were also lower than normal. Your lower lip would also droop to one side when you cried, or yawned, or opened it in any way. And you had two small holes in your heart, so periodically a nurse would have to take you away from me and run some tests to make sure there wasn't too much strain on your tiny heart. To me, though, you were the most beautiful child I had ever seen. Everything about you was perfection. Your pediatrician dropped a bomb on us before we left the hospital, though. She was concerned you had Down Syndrome or another chromosomal abnormality. We had some blood work done, but we would have to wait a week before finding out. I was so grateful you were a healthy baby, but so worried about the results. You were our first child and we weren't expecting any complications. Your dad and I felt completely in over our heads. We had never raised a child before, let alone a child who would need extra care. It was daunting. We prayed a lot. 

The week went by and your test results come back. No extra chromosomes, everything looked good. We still had to see special doctors for your heart and to figure out what was causing the abnormal structure of your head. You were finally diagnosed with a hemifacial microsomia (more generally known as a craniofacial microsomia). What that means for you is that the shape and structure of your head and the lower half of one side of your face is underdeveloped. We were living in Indiana when you got the diagnosis and I'm not positive the doctor had ever seen a case like yours before. We didn't have a solid plan for how to take care of you. I kind of figured you would just keep growing normally, but your face would always be a little crooked.  

When you were about 8 months old, we moved to Utah. We lost our health insurance and it took me some time to get it back. Then your dad got a full-time job with benefits. We waited to take you back to the doctor until you could be insured through his work. Your pediatrician here hooked us up with some really great resources. We finally met yesterday with a plastic surgeon who specializes in facial abnormalities. He gave us more information in a short period of time than anyone else had given to us in your lifetime. It was overwhelming for me. There was so much more that needed to be done than I had ever expected. First, he told me that your forehead had a ridge-line in it that can happen with children like you, but isn't entirely normal. Since your head narrows a bit behind the line, as you grow, your skull could start putting pressure on your optic nerves (causing damage to your vision) and it could hinder the proper development of your brain. NO ONE TOLD ME THIS BEFORE!! I had no idea that by letting you grow normally, I would have done so much more damage. This news shook me. I don't want you to go blind or have brain damage. We have to get a head CT scan for you and we can move forward from there, but there may have to be a surgery to ensure your brain has room to grow. This makes me very nervous, because you are so tiny. 

Of course, that wasn't the only news. When you get to be about 5 or 6, they will have to take a section of bone from one of your ribs and use it to reconstruct the side of your jaw that is underdeveloped (they have to wait that long for your ribs to be the right size). If they didn't do that, your face would develop completely lopsided, since one side would continue to grow and the other wouldn't. I also hate the idea of this surgery, since you will still be so small and they will be working on more than one part of your body. Plus, they might have to do surgery on your ears, but that would probably be the last thing they would tackle. 

It breaks my heart so much that you're going to have to go through this. I feel very lucky that we currently live in a place where there is an entire team of doctors who are dedicated to working with children like you. They will help us to create a plan and get you on track to be as healthy and developed as possible. That is only a very small silver lining right now, though. I have cried multiple times thinking about you and how special you are and how this life is not what I wanted for you. You will constantly be seen by doctors. You will be operated on more than once. You will have to go through tests and scans. And you're not even two! You deserve a better life than this. You bring so much light and joy to the people around you. You are so small, yet already so gifted. But even though this is not going to be an easy journey, I promise to be with you the whole way. As you get older, and we find out more about your condition, I know with increased surety that you and I were meant to be together. I have already learned so much from you, and I hope that I can be the best mom for you when times get even harder. You are the most precious thing to me, and I will always love you more than I can even say. 

Forever Loved. 

-Mom

(P.S. if there are any other craniofacial parents out there, please feel free to share your experiences. Now that I have a darling daughter, I'm going to dedicate this blog to telling her about her life and struggles. I want her to know how tough and amazing she has been since day 1, and I would love to share her journey with parents who may be facing similar challenges.)  

A Memory Just for Me

I hate to spoil the wonderful summer fun with a sad story, but today marks a day I will never forget, and I would like to tell about it.

Three years ago today I was a sophomore in college and I had just moved into a new apartment with three other girls. It was my first year living as an adult (the previous year I had lived in the dorms, so it didn't count) and I needed adult things, like a desk in my room. My mom and I had spent the majority of the morning shopping for said desk, and I had finally picked one that I liked. We bought it and took it back to my apartment. We were going to assemble it as quickly as we could so I could finish unpacking and organizing my stuff. We had just put together the first few pieces of the desk when my mom received a weird phone call. She got off the phone, told me to put on my shoes and grab my keys because we needed to go back to her house for something. I was confused and a lot more than worried, so I did. She went outside and made another phone call, and when I got to my car we left. I still didn't know what was going on as I began driving, but I had a feeling that something was going on with my dad. I knew even before she told me anything, but I asked "What happened to Dad" anyway. Her response, "Well, your dad might be dead" made the feelings real. In reality, there was no "might" about it. My eyes started to well up with tears, uncontrollably, but I had to pull it together because (as you may recall) I was the one driving the vehicle. I freaked out the entire way to my mom's house, and let the tears flow when I got there.

Not long after, a police officer showed up to the house. You always see that scene in movies or TV shows, where the police officer dreads having to tell someone the worst news they will ever receive. It seemed so surreal when the officer was led into the living room where we sat together. "I'm so sorry to have to tell you this, but your father passed away last night."  It was official now. He had gone to bed, as usual, but sometime in the night he had suffered a heart attack that took his life. He lived alone, but he worked delivering newspapers in the morning, and when he didn't show up for work, it was worrisome, since he had never missed a day without having arranged a substitute. Someone from the paper went over to his house, where his car was parked in the garage, however the numerous knocks on the door simply resulted in silence. The police were called, they found a spare key and entered the house, where they found my dad. The officer told me that he looked very peaceful when they found him, which comforted me a little for the time.

I spent most of that day at my mom's house. We had people coming to talk to me, check on me, and comfort me all day. I appreciated all the love, but at that moment, I wanted to curl up in a ball and cry until this nightmare passed. Unfortunately, life moved forward and I had to move with it, since this was, in fact, not a nightmare. I talked to my brother (my brother and I are my dad's only kids) and he probably made me feel the best of anyone else at that moment. He was flying into town as soon as he could to come help with funeral arrangements. Wait... a funeral? I was 19 years old, and I had never even been to a funeral before, let alone plan one. 

Eventually I had to go to my dad's house for the first time since I received the news. I was escorted by my other brother, which was comforting. I would not have been able to go through that alone. Walking into the house was such a strange moment for me. Everything was exactly in place. I would have been able to tell you (with a reasonable amount of confidence) what my dad had been doing before going to bed. His dishes from dinner were still in the sink. The last record that he had listened to was still on the turntable. There was a dent in his armchair from where he sat alone nearly every night. It broke my heart to know that he would never return to his chair, or listen to the record player I had just bought him for Father's Day, or cook his fantastic food again. I cried more. 

Then came the funeral planning and the massive duty of cleaning out my dad's house. My brother and I worked everyday of his visit going through closets, dressers, boxes, and cabinets deciding what mementos of our father we wanted to keep. I learned so much about my dad in those few days, which only made me miss him more. I had questions I wanted to ask him about himself. I knew there were so many things I had never thought to learn about him, and I was suddenly desperate to know all of them. The funeral planning wasn't any easier. I had no idea what to expect or what he would want. In all of our searching my brother and I never found a will. We were making decisions blindly, going only by what we knew about our dad. We laughed together as we worked things out, reminiscing about our dad and imagining what he would say in response to the choices we were making on his behalf. 

Then the day was upon us. The day we would say good-bye to my dad at his funeral. There was a viewing the day before at our local church. We had set up one of the rooms as a history of his life, with tables filled with pictures of his life from the time he was a baby, to his years on the football team in high school, to the times he got to spend with his children. Throughout the course of the day we played some of his favorite music through the vintage inspired record player that I had given him. When the time came for me to enter the room and see my dad for the first time, clothed in white and laying in the beautiful coffin we had picked out for him, it was almost too much to handle. I walked into the church building and made it halfway to the room when my feet suddenly stopped working, and my eyes were blurred from the tears that had suddenly welled up. One of the people who was with us took the box I was carrying and my sister-in-law comforted me as we walked slowly together to face what was unimaginable to me. 

I made it into the room and immediately walked to my brother. We stood together, crying and looking at the man who had spent the last many years of his life struggling so hard to care for us, his precious children. Nothing prepares you for that moment and the realization that this man, who you expected to be there for the rest of your life, was never going to be able to be a part of it any more.

I had a few moments with family before the casket was closed and I would never see my dad again. I took those moments to stand beside him and run my fingers through his hair, with my aunt by my side stroking his hand. My dad and I shared our thick curly hair, and he was always so proud of how much of it he had left. I was surprised at how soft his hair felt. Tears streamed down my face as I looked at my beloved father for the last time. 

The funeral was a beautiful mix of genuine love and heartfelt sorrow. I still couldn't believe that it was I who was the one receiving condolences and comfort for a tragic loss in my life. We celebrated my dad's life that night by going to his favorite local steak restaurant and enjoying some of his favorite dishes. We shared memories of him and of the joy he brought to each of us. 

 A short time later, I flew out to California, which was the place my dad grew up (and it was very possibly his favorite place in the world). We buried him in Forest Lawn Cemetery in Hollywood Hills, which, as far as I know, is the most beautiful cemetery in the world. I spent the rest of the trip with my brother and my dad's family. We ate at some of the traditional places for my dad (Big Boy, The Hat, In-N-Out, etc.). It was a time spent remembering him, and coming closer together as a family. 

The hardest thing for me to think about, even after time has passed, is knowing all the wonderful and special times in my life that my dad will not be here for. It was a bittersweet day in January (on my dad's birthday) when I walked down the aisle to marry my best friend. I had chosen to walk down the aisle alone, but the weight of that decision did not fully hit me until the day of my wedding. Thankfully, I was a little swept up in last minute preparations and I was able to keep it together. That is something that I had always expected my dad to be a part of, though. And my husband will never fully understand the man who helped raise me, since he never got to meet him. Another thing that breaks my heart is thinking of my children and the love from my dad that they will never know. They will be missing a grandparent from the day they are born. I'm pretty sure that this is a thought that is more painful to me than it will be for my children, since I also grew up missing both my dad's parents. But it is still an experience I would rather have him be a part of. 

Regardless of the sadness that comes along with lost potential, there is joy in the times that we were able to spend together. I feel very lucky that I was able to see past notions I had about my dad when I was younger and grow to have a beautiful relationship with him. He surpassed his role of father to me, and became a friend. The last few years we were able to spend together are times I will always treasure (despite the normal frustration that comes between teenagers and parents). The overall lesson that I have learned here is that, even when your whole world falls apart, and life seems to be nothing but a horrible nightmare, the sun always rises, and a new day always dawns. The things that you have lost may be gone forever, but that does not mean that it is the end. You have no idea what beautiful things are about to come your way unless you pick yourself up a little each day, and recognize the world of possibilities ahead of you.

There will always be a special place in my heart for my dad, and I am mostly grateful for the time we got to spend together and the impact that he had on my life. That is something I will never lose.

 (that's a proud papa)

(Harrison family all together)

 (High School Graduation-2010)

(Funeral at Forest Lawn Cemetery- August 2011)

Forever Loved.  

JET and the Mrs.

Well, I finally did it. I went and got myself married. It was surprisingly pretty simple to do. I found this really cute guy... we fell in love hard and fast... and we got married for time and all eternity. I'm pretty stoked about it. I am now actually one step closer to becoming a mother and getting to impart my oceans of knowledge to you (that may be an exaggeration, but I hope you don't realize that until you're a teenager and by then you'll already know everything anyway).

At this point, I've only been married for about two months, so I really don't know anything about married life yet, but there have been a few bits and pieces that I've picked up along the way. These are a few little lessons that I have learned (or been reminded of) since becoming a Mrs.

Laugh together everyday. Smiling and being happy around each other leaves no room for bad feelings (i.e. anger, sadness, frustration, etc.). This is MUCH easier said than done, but it is so worth it. Little, petty arguments disappear when you are able to let go of negative feelings and your relationship grows stronger by sharing positive experiences.

 (being silly together is totally acceptable)

Never give up the "honeymoon phase" for anything. It really doesn't have to be a phase. It can be for the entire marriage. 

(This is how I want us to be forever)

Don't forget the first time you kissed. It was probably not perfectly romantic or idyllic. It may have even been a little awkward. Regardless, it will always be the instant that made your relationship something special. Keep those feelings special and kiss each other every moment you can. 

 (I cannot get enough of kissing pictures... only one more, I promise)

A beautiful wedding is nice, but a beautiful marriage is so much greater. This is advice that is given to newlyweds probably everyday. That doesn't make it any less true. My wedding was beautiful, but not because it was big and fancy with all the expense and luxury of a celebrity wedding. My wedding was beautiful because my husband and I were surrounded by people we love most and we got to marry each other. We are each others' best friend and that was the most beautiful part of all. That will continue to be the most beautiful part of our marriage, even after the thrill of looking at wedding pictures dies down. 

Keep your friends close, but your best friend closer. This is one that I sometimes struggle with. It is much easier for me to go to my best (lady) friend and tell her about all the crazy things that my husband has done. Or talk to my mom about the rough day that I had, rather than talking to the Mr. about it. I often feel like I unload on him ALL THE TIME. That's ok. He married me. This is what married people do. They talk about things together. They talk about big things and little things. Sometimes going to your close girlfriends for advice or sympathy is totally cool. Just make sure that your husband knows what's going on, too, or he might wonder why you haven't spoken to him in two days (not that I know that from personal experience or anything...). Communication is key. 

(This is LaLa... She is the best lady friend a girl could ask for...)

(... and she will always be my go-to gal, even though I now have another best friend.)

Finally, never settle. This was something that I started to learn before I got married. I had learned to not settle for a relationship that was unhealthy, a negative influence, or less than what I desired. Luckily I dodged that bullet when I married my husband, because he is perfect... and while he may be perfect, our relationship is not. Nobody has a perfect relationship. Does that mean we stop trying to make it perfect? No. We work everyday to make tomorrow better than yesterday. In that way, we never settle. A marriage should have ups and downs, but it's never okay to settle for a marriage which is unhealthy, a negative influence, or less than what both partners deserve. Never settle for an average marriage. Always be working, together, for a stronger marriage.

I am thrilled to be starting my journey as a Mrs. and I look forward to learning more and figuring out this whole "married life" thing. I know, though, that I could have never picked a better partner to tough it out with. He's my favorite.

Forever Loved.  

I'm Just Going to Hangout on My Soapbox for a Sec.

I would just like to start this off by saying that I really enjoy being a lady... and I enjoy a good gentleman as well. I do appreciate when a man opens the door for me, or pays for dinner, not because I'm not capable of doing things on my own, but because it makes me feel special. And I think these days women don't get to feel special enough of the time. 

I would also like to mention that I grew up believing in certain gender roles. I personally choose to adhere to the ideas that I was taught as a child, when I someday have a family of my own (since these ideas are mainly related to roles within the family). However, I also recognize that there is a real problem with the ideas about women in this day in age. 

Up until quite recently, I always tried to fully embrace ideas about femininity. I was the little girl that wore pink dresses, played with Barbies, and wanted to be a princess. I loved the Spice Girls and believed in "girl power." When I was in grade school, I decided that I wanted to be the first female president... either that or an actress (at this point in my life I see that this is a little ironic, since these are two ways women with power are viewed). As I got older, I became more disillusioned with my future prospects and I just didn't want to try as hard. It seemed that the boys were the ones generally succeeding and leading, and I didn't see the point in trying to fight it. Sometimes if I felt that I had a chance of leading a group, I would put all my efforts and best ideas forward and I got a sense of fulfillment from being a leader. Unfortunately, often teachers (mostly those that didn't know me very well) would give credit to the male member of the group, if there was one. This got me especially upset once in one of my college courses... not that I'm bitter about it or anything. 

I never wanted to be labeled as a "feminist." That was a dirty word to my ears. I thought of feminists as radical, man-hating, and aggressive. I am none of those things, so I obviously don't fit with that group. I like a man who will open my door and take me out. I like dressing up in fancy clothes and putting on make-up (sometimes). I also definitely want to have a family, and I want to be a mother and a housewife. That definitely makes me not a feminist. 

... or does it? I still don't like being labeled as a feminist, and I'm sure that some other ladies would not label me that (as I'm currently hearing whispers as I'm sharing in my gender roles class), but I do see some real issues with gender in our culture, specifically issues surrounding inequality and femininity. So, if that makes me a feminist, so be it. I want this world to be better for my children and my family. I want my daughter to feel that she is able to do whatever she wants and be whatever she wants.

This is a clip from a documentary entitled "Miss Representation." It is a documentary about female roles in society, and what can be done to equalize our society. Just the clip is hugely thought-provoking:

(don't worry... this clip is not as explicit as it looks) 

My question while watching this documentary was, "Is this really how we value women in our culture?" Personally, I'm not okay being viewed as an object of male gaze because I know there is more to being a woman than just being attractive.

(yes... this is a VERY over-sexualized caricature of me done at my high school prom. Not cool. Also, creepy.) 

If you can't be what you can't see, how is anything going to change? I'm making it my new goal to be a better example to all the little ladies around me. It's okay to be smart... in fact, it's better than okay, it's wonderful for a woman to be smart, to be a leader, and to share her opinions. It's also wonderful for a woman to be kind, sensitive, and thoughtful. Women have different experiences and perspective, and that makes what we have to offer, valuable.   

I hope that someday ideas about women will change, and little ladies will be able to see that they can go anywhere and do anything. The world will be open to them and they will be lauded for their talents and their ideas, not for their bodies or their sexual appeal. 

Forever loved.    

A Day for All the Mamas

Happy Mother's Day!! 

I always get excited for Mother's Day. It's a little silly, since I am not a mother (unless you count having a cat, which is just sad), or even a wife or girlfriend, but ever since I was little, I always looked forward to Mother's Day. In my child eyes, Mother's Day was always one of the most beautiful days of the year, no matter the weather. 

This is one of the first (if not the first) Mother's Day I will be spending not with my mom. She is accompanying my step-dad on a conference trip in Florida (hope you're having fun!!). Even though we celebrated Mother's Day earlier this week, since I just love the day so much, I couldn't see it pass without celebrating my mom, and mothers in general. 

When I was born, my mom already had 5 children and a step-child at home. I was majorly a caboose baby, being seven years younger than my closest sibling, and a total surprise. I was born right in the middle of December, and I took my sweet time entering the world. Since my mom was not sure when I would decide to join the family, she still had to prepare for Christmas for her six other children. Of course, I decided to be a little jerk and interrupt her Christmas shopping. Apparently I was not okay with not being the center of attention. I was born on December 17, making my mom a mom.... again. 

Growing up I was a mama's girl big time.Wherever she went I wanted to go, too and whatever she did, I wanted to do, too. I even swore I was going to marry my mom when I grew up (I snapped out of that pretty quickly). Then I discovered that my mom and I were both born under the Chinese year of the sheep. From then on we were year of the sheep twins. 

Then, when I was about 8 my parents divorced. I ended up living with my mom. It was just my mom, 2 of my sisters, and me living together. We had to move out of our big house and into a tiny duplex. It was so small that my mom and I had to share a room... we had a bunk bed and it was a party every night. The next year my two sisters moved on with life, and then it was just my mama and I. And we took on the world together. We went through a lot of crazy life together. We took trips together, went through relationships together, and had wonderful adventures. 

Then I became a teenager. I think they were pretty chill teenage years, as far as mother daughter relationships go. We definitely had our share of little spats, but most of them involved the recent addition of a step-dad to my life. It was a difficult transition for me to make and the selfish side of me didn't want to share our happy life. Then I got myself a boyfriend (the one from my previous post here), and the real drama started. 

For the years that I was with this guy, my mom was not my favorite person. Not because I loved her any less, but because I didn't understand that she was trying to do what she could to help me. I just thought that she didn't she what I saw and that she didn't want me to be with him. It was true that she didn't see what I see, she saw so much more that I was not willing to accept. 

Now my mom is my greatest support. She listens to all my silly problems and advises me in pretty much every aspect of my life. We have had rough patches in the past, but I am so grateful to have my mama. She is, and always will be my year of the sheep twin. I adore my mom and I wish her the happiest Mother's Day!      

(my mama and I at my oldest sister's wedding)

(Hanging out in Nashville, TN... oh the 90s)

 

(my high school graduation!!)

(Lake Michigan with the mama)

Disney's Prince Charming... Or Maybe Not.

When I was younger, I was definitely "all girl". I loved playing dress-up, wearing make-up, and the color pink. I also LOVED princesses. I loved the big, fancy dresses, the romance, and the happy endings. I must admit that I still love all these things. 

While most young girls pretend to be Cinderella, Snow White, Belle, or Aurora (aka Sleeping Beauty), in my heart I was always Pocahontas. I had a homemade Pocahontas costume that I would put on, run around the yard, and imagine my hair blowing beautifully in the wind. This was a rather silly image for me to have since my hair has always been massively curly and thus does not flow in the breeze. It was also pretty silly since Pocahontas has perfectly tan skin and I have no color at all in my skin. 

(wingapo... that means hello)

  

Anyway, I got older (which tends to happen), and I started thinking about dating. In my head, I imagined finding my Prince Charming. He would be handsome and chivalrous; in short, the perfect gentleman. Strangely enough, there were very few Prince Charmings in high school. I made it all the way to my senior year of high school before settling on a (gasp) boyfriend. I didn't realize I was settling, but I was. He was quite handsome, and I had known him for years. He was a few years older than I, which meant that he was a college boy doing college things (i.e. being frivolous, drinking with his friends, things like that). When we started dating, I didn't ever expect to date him forever. But then we fell madly in love and he could do no wrong in my book.

(see? He fit perfectly in my storybook world)

Well, things went seemingly well for a while... until he messed up big time. Then we broke up. I was devastated, and he was so sorry, he promised to be better. So we got back together. But then we broke up again. And got back together. And broke up. And got back together. And so on, and so on for three years. THREE YEARS?! I'm a crazy person. But eventually I regained my sanity and broke up with him for good. There were a few weird months where we tried to keep a friendship going, since we had spent so many years together. It didn't work out and I haven't talked to him now for at least a month. I now feel like I can relax and enjoy life.Relationships take tolls on you, and sometimes you don't even realize it until after they are over and you see how much you've been affected. 

I had meant for this to be less of a relationship story, and more of a "things to look out for in relationships," but perhaps I will leave that for another day.

Forever loved. 

  

Well... Hey There Good-Looking

Wow... I cannot believe I have been MIA for so long. Two years really flew by. I've had a lot of thoughts about updating the blog, but I never seem to actually do anything about it... until a few days ago. I heard a song on the radio on my drive to campus. It was a song that I've heard many times before, and I never really paid any attention to it... Probably because I never really loved the song. I was having a little bit of a "pity party" kind of day (it happens... we're not all perfect). I had a lot of work to do and it was rainy outside. The worst part of everything was that I was alone while (a seemingly gigantic portion of) my friends were in serious relationships or planning weddings. Gross... Quit rubbing it in my face that you are happy and life is beautiful, while I'm inevitably going to become a lonely old cat lady spinster. 

(at least HE loves me...)

That might be a little dramatic, but you get the gist of it. 

Anyway, right in the middle of my sad train of thought words screamed through my radio and silenced my brain. The words were "Don't you worry child, see Heaven's got a plan for you". Well, shoot. I don't really know how spiritual Swedish House Mafia is, but in that moment I was reminded that there is a longer term perspective that I am totally missing out on. These words also struck a chord because they reminded me of advice my own father might give. Very recently I have been sorely missing my dad's advice and I've realized that being a girl without a dad is very difficult (I'll save discussing this for a later post), so hearing these words spoken from a father's perspective (in the song) was especially comforting. 

(p.s. here is the song I'm talking about) 

(p.p.s. concerts like the one in the video will never be allowed)

Unfortunately, I cannot say that this experience helped me get my work done any faster, or reduce the amount of stress in my life, but I can say that for a brief moment, I was not worried. Life is not just this single moment. There are greater things out there for everyone, and there is a plan... we just have to be patient enough to see how it unfolds.  Plus, all things considered, my life is pretty rockin' and just because I don't have exactly what I want at the precise moment that I want it does not mean that good things are not waiting for me later. I just need to keep things in perspective and remember that I have a lot of time to enjoy what I have while I have it. I won't be a foot-loose and fancy-free, young college student forever, so why should I feel anything but joy for the experiences and opportunities in my life? Someday I hope to learn, more fully, how to think beyond the present circumstances while fully enjoying the moment. And I hope with my whole heart that you will be able to learn this in your life, too.

Forever loved.