At some point in our lives, maybe even at many points, we begin to look back on the way things have been so far. We examine the person that we have been, the choices that we've made and all the different things that we may even regret. When chapters of our lives come to an end most people start to do this. They think about how fast it all went, the great times they had, and the should have, could have, would have's.
A teacher of mine gave his 'last lesson' today during class and really got me to thinking. He spoke about how he never had the courage to tell the girl that he had loved since 6th grade how he felt about it. Only during an anonymous complimenting that he was brave enough to do this. Then he questioned how could his life be different now, he thought about the would have's. Even at this point in life I know that I don't want to look back and think that way. I want to live my life in a way that while I might make the wrong choices. I will know that I made choices that were exactly everything that I wanted, in that moment. They might be ones that seconds after I have decided to do them I wonder maybe this was not my shinning moment, but I wanted it and that means it means something to me.
I believe this is a way to live each day. We will face choices each and every moment of our lives; do what makes you happy, be who you want, live your life because it is what you want to do, not what someone else does. In life we only get a few do-overs, if any. Why hold our breath for something that may never happen? Why not take the chance to make it happen? Even if we wish we decided to not do it in the end, in the moment was it worth it?
I know I want to be able to say to my family when I am 60, 'you know, I may have made some bad choices but dang if you could have been there!" I know that I don't want to look back on my life and wonder what could have happened if I told someone 'I love you,' questioning if they would have said it back. I know I don't want to go back to my reunion and tell someone I never told you, but...
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Monday, May 14, 2012
butterfly fly away.
I have this HUGE fear of stairs, escalators, clowns, and moths...and butterflies. Yes, butterflies. They creep me out, I dislike them and they just bother me a lot! Irrational, but for those whom know me, when am I usually rational? Exactly. However, this will come more into play later on.
On April 25, 2012, my dad passed away around 1:20 in the afternoon; I was holding his hand. Most people said that I calmed him down, they could tell when I was around that he felt better. They said that this is why he waited, and why instead of my mom, whom had been there without leave, I was the one he was ready to say goodbye with. A good friend of mine, said that this was because if he saw that his baby girl was alright, that he knew it was okay.
On April 24, 2012, I called my mom to tell her and my dad that I had won my FFA CDE and would be going to Nationals. Through my happiness, slowly my mother broke me the news. I would need to come home right after, and would need to go directly to the nursing home. That night, I said my goodbyes to the man that had raised me for 18 years.
On April 25, around 2:00, I went back to class. It was the only thing I could do. After school I went to track, and most people just thought it was a normal day. Certain people knew but that was my own doing. I had always isolated myself when it came to problems, everyone in the family did, still does.
The next day was another day for me. I woke up went to school, and most people didn't say anything. Most people didn't know what to say. Then again, I wouldn't know what to say to an 18 year old who's father had just passed away either. So I did what I had always done, put on my big pants and dealt with it. I figured if I pretended that I was okay, everyone else would believe it too.
Friends and family members started to share their love and sympathy. However, the people that I thought would be there, weren't. It felt like they almost had no idea, and although all these people were there for me, I still felt alone. Even though, they probably could have still been there for me, but I had already decided I wasn't going to be that person. The one who needed all the help in the world, who was an open mess, and couldn't handle it all. I was going to be strong.
So, I continued to do things that I would normally have done. The day after, I ran in my second track meet of the season. About half way through the meet, it clicked for me. I wasn't ready to be there. I needed my rock, my backbone, I needed the person who was the only one who understood by never understanding a thing I said; I needed my dad.
A meet later though, I began to try and see the beauty in things. Dad was ready to go, he was better off, I may not have been but God does things that he understands. In these things though, he makes sure we are never alone. At this meet, there was a butterfly that landed on my things, and no matter what I did, I couldn't get it to move. Finally, after multiple tries, it finally flew away and I went about my business. I disliked butterflies and was happy that it was gone.
It wasn't until the next day that it clicked. Being at school was too hard, and I had to go home. On my walk, again I was pestered by this stinking bug! It would not leave me alone, driving me insane. I went home and managed to only cry a little before falling back asleep with yet another dream about dad. Later that day it all started to make sense. Dad had always been a little bit of a hippie, and loved the bright colors of butterflies. Plus, they can get kind of annoying, like a good dad does.
Whether it really was him or not I don't care; he's there still, every single day. Even if he decides to annoy me by being a bug that I hate so much, knowing he's there some how makes it easier to make it through the day.
butterfly don't fly away.
On April 25, 2012, my dad passed away around 1:20 in the afternoon; I was holding his hand. Most people said that I calmed him down, they could tell when I was around that he felt better. They said that this is why he waited, and why instead of my mom, whom had been there without leave, I was the one he was ready to say goodbye with. A good friend of mine, said that this was because if he saw that his baby girl was alright, that he knew it was okay.
On April 24, 2012, I called my mom to tell her and my dad that I had won my FFA CDE and would be going to Nationals. Through my happiness, slowly my mother broke me the news. I would need to come home right after, and would need to go directly to the nursing home. That night, I said my goodbyes to the man that had raised me for 18 years.
On April 25, around 2:00, I went back to class. It was the only thing I could do. After school I went to track, and most people just thought it was a normal day. Certain people knew but that was my own doing. I had always isolated myself when it came to problems, everyone in the family did, still does.
The next day was another day for me. I woke up went to school, and most people didn't say anything. Most people didn't know what to say. Then again, I wouldn't know what to say to an 18 year old who's father had just passed away either. So I did what I had always done, put on my big pants and dealt with it. I figured if I pretended that I was okay, everyone else would believe it too.
Friends and family members started to share their love and sympathy. However, the people that I thought would be there, weren't. It felt like they almost had no idea, and although all these people were there for me, I still felt alone. Even though, they probably could have still been there for me, but I had already decided I wasn't going to be that person. The one who needed all the help in the world, who was an open mess, and couldn't handle it all. I was going to be strong.
So, I continued to do things that I would normally have done. The day after, I ran in my second track meet of the season. About half way through the meet, it clicked for me. I wasn't ready to be there. I needed my rock, my backbone, I needed the person who was the only one who understood by never understanding a thing I said; I needed my dad.
A meet later though, I began to try and see the beauty in things. Dad was ready to go, he was better off, I may not have been but God does things that he understands. In these things though, he makes sure we are never alone. At this meet, there was a butterfly that landed on my things, and no matter what I did, I couldn't get it to move. Finally, after multiple tries, it finally flew away and I went about my business. I disliked butterflies and was happy that it was gone.
It wasn't until the next day that it clicked. Being at school was too hard, and I had to go home. On my walk, again I was pestered by this stinking bug! It would not leave me alone, driving me insane. I went home and managed to only cry a little before falling back asleep with yet another dream about dad. Later that day it all started to make sense. Dad had always been a little bit of a hippie, and loved the bright colors of butterflies. Plus, they can get kind of annoying, like a good dad does.
Whether it really was him or not I don't care; he's there still, every single day. Even if he decides to annoy me by being a bug that I hate so much, knowing he's there some how makes it easier to make it through the day.
butterfly don't fly away.
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