Remembering

Three years ago, today, I lost my best friend.

I will never forget the phone call I got in the middle of the grocery store telling me she was dead. The entire world felt unreal, like a dream. I left my cart where it was and walked out to my car, sat and had no idea what to do next. I couldn’t cry. I couldn’t yell. My emotions were frozen.

You see, this was my best friend for as long as I can remember. My middle school confidant. Sleepovers; giggling about boys and gossiping about school. The girl I went to when I ran away from home as a stupid kid. The one who worried for my safety. The girl who cried with me when her prom date stood her up while I offered to put on a dress and go with her myself. The woman whose boyfriend fell asleep in a movie during a double date and we looked at each other and laughed while he snored. The maid of honor at my wedding, the girl who stood beside me and held my bouquet as I put a ring on my husband’s finger. The woman who sat beside me at the baby shower for my first child.

She was dead. Suicide. The depression we had both talked about in our teens, related to each other in that suffering, took her away. I didn’t know how to grieve a loss so unexpected. A loss that could have been prevented. I blamed myself for not seeing. She had slowly become reclusive. She had pulled herself back from the people who cared about her.

I wish I hadn’t been so caught up in my own life. I wish we would have taken the Vegas trip we had talked about. I wish I had made a bigger effort to reach out to her as I moved around the country. The distance took its toll. Her depression took its toll. My depression took its toll.

She wanted more than what we had growing up, two poor girls with single moms who were doing their best to make ends meet. She wanted to travel. She wanted to see Ireland. She wanted to get married. She wanted to have children. She had hopes, dreams and goals.

It took a long time to get through the grief but three years later I can look back at the memories and smile at all the joy she brought to my life. The understanding. The importance of that friendship. I know she was in my life for a reason and I know I will be forever grateful for the time I had with her because, even though I was never able to tell her just how much, she got me through many hard times in my life and knowing I had her gave me strength. Knowing I have her memory will continue to give me strength. 

Years Later.....an intense update.

Hello blog world! It's been so long.

I never forgot about this blog, but it took a lot of effort to remember how the information to sign back into it. It has been a little over three years since I've posted anything here. I'm sure no one reads or even checks this now defunct blog, but I'm back and I hope that maybe I'll find the time to get it back up and running. I loved blogging so much and updating my followers with new recipes, crafts and new fun things happening in my life!

So, here it is, my 3 year update. Buckle up because its a lot.

Summer 2015 the Army moved the hubby to Maryland, so here we are. Its such an amazing place! After 3.5 years in the desert, fighting depression, anxiety, anger, sadness and isolation; I can't begin to explain the weight that was lifted off my shoulders when we drove away from that place. It has taken me time to get myself into a better emotional space and the last few years haven't been without their ups and downs.

Late 2015, my brother was involved in a car accident. He drove drunk and killed a passenger in an oncoming vehicle. My brother was airlifted to a hospital with a blood alcohol level that should have killed him and ended up in ICU for weeks, a combination of the alcohol and injuries from the accident.

My brother was always my rock. Through everything we endured in our childhood he was my protector and someone I knew I could always count on. When I found out what he had done my entire world was turned upside down. I was hurt, angry, brokenhearted for the family he hurt, confused because he was such a good person to make such an awful choice.

Early 2016, I lost my best friend to suicide. I was crushed but never allowed myself to grieve. She was the maid of honor in my wedding, my best friend since we were in middle school. I was angry at myself for not knowing she had gotten so sad. I blamed myself for not being there to help her. A few months after that my dog of 13 years got very ill and, after 3 weeks of vet visits, medications, feeding her through an medicine dropper and lots of praying, the vet urged us to put her down so she would no longer suffer. She had lost 10lbs in a week and could barely walk. We knew it was time. She I was always loved running and being outside so in her final hours with us, I took her outside and sat with her on the patio and told her how much I loved her. It was crushing.

A month after that my brother was finally arrested for manslaughter as a result of the accident. His mugshot was all over my small town, the 5 o'clock news, front page of the paper, online.....everywhere. A trial was scheduled but continued to be pushed back. As of now, his schedule is set to happen in a few months. Years after the accident occurred.  I'm mentally prepping myself for the trip to my hometown and for a prison sentence. In between all these Baby Boy was in the hospital once a month for severe asthma while Snuggle Bug started behavioral therapy for anxiety.

2016 was a year filled with sadness but I never allowed myself to feel it. I stuffed it down and let it fester until December 2016 I had a full meltdown. Everything that had been inside bubbled over. 2017 became my rebuilding year. It has taken a lot of time and effort to get myself emotionally strong. But I know that I am on the path to a better me.

Phew! So, there is the overview of the big stuff.

Snuggle Bug is now 10 years old, Baby Boy is 5, 4th grade and kindergarten. The hubby has been promoted, loving his job and getting closer and closer to retirement. I'm just about finished with my degree in Graphic Design. I'm still crafting, homemaking and cooking and I still take pride in what I do for my family to make their lives better. As you can see from above, its not the idyllic 1950s home, but I try and that is the best you can do sometimes.

I started this blog when I was 22, I am now 32. Its interesting to see just how much I have (and haven't) changed in the last 10 years. I've gained weight, a kid, moved 3 times, lost friends, found friends, lost pets, gained pets......but I'm still here.

Thanks for reading blog world!