Forever Young

We were in the middle of watching a show, which show is not really important or relevant, but I found myself thinking “I wonder if I’ll be like that when I grow up?”. Then I had to laugh because…I’m 35…I probably should have stopped thinking that way when I graduated college or when I got married or after giving birth to our son (the list goes on and on). 

It also made me think back to something my Grandma had said to me years ago. “It’s funny Elyse. I know that I’m old and of course I know how old I am but I still feel like I’m 18…even though I definitely no longer look it”.  

At the time that she told me this, I was in my 20s and we had a good laugh together but I didn’t really think about it beyond that conversation. Today, Grandma is still with us but mentally her memory isn’t as strong as it once was. She wouldn’t likely remember that conversation since she doesn’t usually remember who I am anymore. But I wish that I could sit down and tell her that I finally get it. I get what she was trying to say that day as we chatted about life and as she described to me how drastically the world and our physical appearances changes year after year but how that internal youthful spirit just seems to linger. 

I’ve got a 3 year old who is looking to me daily for guidance, love, information, attention, feedback...I’m helping to mold a small person’s mind/personality. That seems absurd to me some days because I don’t really feel like I’ve fully molded myself. I still feel like I may have untapped potential, like I have a journey that I haven’t realized…like I haven’t quite “grown up”. 

Despite all of the painful, beautiful, memorable, life changing moments that we go through: do we all spend our lives feeling like maybe someday we’ll finally grow up? 

My gorgeous and forever young Grandma.

You're the best song I'll ever write...

Here’s the crazy truth: I’ve been a mom for over 2 years now and despite feeling like a failure every couple of days…the authorities have not broken down the door to confirm that fear. Anyone who has kept up with my very inactive blog in the past knows that I struggled to become a mom. Miscarriages have a way of damaging your heart and making you feel defeated. And as I’ve said before…I prayed…so much. A husband, who continued to love on me, and talking to God about my fears, hopes, insecurities and depression; got me through the darkness. 

When I found out I was pregnant with Lucas my heart jumped into my throat in excitement and just as quickly sank down into my feet in fear. The beginning weeks of the pregnancy were filled with prayers all day every day…that this pregnancy and this baby would be safe and healthy and successful. Many moms tend to countdown the days until they aren’t feeling sick anymore or until they can reveal the gender of the baby. I was counting down the days in a worried mental calendar of memories, “Okay…we’re further along than the first miscarriage….okay we’re almost to the time frame of the second miscarriage…”. Once we had passed all of the milestones/weeks that corresponded with the previous losses, I was able to breathe a tiny bit easier. And a tip from me to any moms who are expecting: I would not recommend googling all of the millions of things that can still go wrong with a pregnancy beyond that point (the internet is an evil temptress of nonsense and knowledge). 

Despite the fear that lingered with me…my pregnancy with Lucas was the best. I loved getting bigger every day and knowing that it was my body creating a safe space for our child to grow. I loved feeling him move and stretch and hiccup throughout the day. It was like having a tiny partner in crime constantly hanging around reminding me of how blessed and lucky I was. I have spoken to many women who hated pregnancy: they hated the weight, the swollen feet, waking up all night to use the bathroom, not sleeping well, breaking out, food aversions, puking, etc. I was blessed with a very low stress pregnancy and had spent so much time praying to be pregnant and for our baby to continue growing safely… that it seemed like 9 months went by so fast. 

Lucas joined our world in May 2016. All of my prayers…answered in one tiny person. I don’t know if he’ll ever understand the healing that he brought to my heart. If you’ve seen my social media or even my phone, it’s obvious that I’m a little obsessed with the kid. I genuinely enjoy hanging out with him and watching him figure things out. He’s funny, sweet (most of the time) and has my coordination (constantly falling over his own feet). He’s got my husband’s good looks and he dances like his mama…I mean really….can you think of a better combination?

Over 2 years into this mom adventure and here is what I know: I will never feel good enough and that’s okay. I’ve had some success, I’ve encountered plenty of failure, there’s been crying/whining (from all 3 of us) and even more laughter. I’ve learned to ask for help/advice, I’m constantly second guessing my decisions, I can sing every nursery rhyme and toddler show theme song upon request, I understand a language that sometimes sounds like gibberish but makes perfect sense to my toddler, when I put my mind to it I can multitask like a boss, my car almost always looks like the Junk Lady from The Labyrinth and sometimes I look like I crawled out of someone’s gym bag and slapped a hat on. So what do I think about being a mom so far? 

I’ve never been happier.

And just in case my verbal vomit style of writing doesn't make sense...this song by Bethany Dillon seems to sum it up perfectly.

Be Still...

It was one year ago today that I spent the morning in the emergency room miscarrying for the first but not the last time. Not long after that experience I would miscarry again.

I have never written about the miscarriages publicly. It may sound ridiculous but admitting out loud to people that I have miscarried feels utterly embarrassing. Just the word leaves a bad taste in my mouth. If you’ve ever wondered if it’s possible to feel embarrassed, ashamed and incredibly disappointing just by speaking one word…it is possible.

I wasn’t sure I ever wanted to share what I had originally written about the miscarriages because I wrote while the experiences were still very fresh and in all reality while they were still happening. It’s all of my darkest writing to date. But it’s been a year, writing is therapeutic for me and it’s time to be honest and no longer feel ashamed to admit what happened.

I won’t bore you with the full pages upon pages of verbal vomit that I had originally put onto paper but I will share a few pieces from each. The first miscarriage occured in June 2013 and the next in January 2014.

Excerpts from June 2013:

…Hours later the doctor and her posse came back into the room. I heard her mumble something to the rookie following her around about “taking this serious” before she walked into the room. Her once positive and bubbly demeanor was gone as were the plastic smiles that anyone had worn before. She proceeded to talk about the many things it could have been… I didn’t care to hear all of that…I just needed her to say it out loud in words that we would understand so that it was confirmed and real. She never really did say it and instead told me to follow up with my doctor. It was actually a nurse that I had not yet met that said what I needed to hear. She came in with my discharge papers and to take my blood pressure before I left. As I sat staring ahead, numb to what she was rattling on about I did happen to hear her ask, “Do you have any questions?”

 I did. I baited her with my question because I needed to hear someone actually say it out loud…to make it real...so that everyone would stop dancing around the truth with “mights” “coulds” and “possiblies”. So I asked her, “What am I supposed to say to my doctor when I call her to follow up?” And that is when she said it, “Well you miscarried so you will need to tell them that…”

I miscarried. I never thought that one word would hurt so much. In fact a few days later I would be researching miscarriage when I saw it:

Miscarriage: Synonym – Failure.

Yep, that pretty accurately describes how I feel. I failed to keep our baby safe, healthy or alive. I failed at the one thing I’ve always wanted and now I just feel broken.

…Ironically, I had originally written my 10 week (what was supposed to be my first visit) doctor’s appointment in my calendar in pencil…I never write anything in pencil but I did with this particular appointment because I was hoping that I would get an earlier appointment to finally see the baby. I erased that appointment (and all of the hopes I had associated with it) from my calendar and wrote my now much earlier appointment in pen. Pen seemed appropriate this time…because there isn’t anything to hope for with this visit…it’s just an empty meeting that won’t change a thing.”

Excerpts from January 2014:

“…It’s been a couple of weeks since that day: blood tests, sonograms and calls with the nurse all confirmed that I would be miscarrying soon. My choice? Wait for the miscarriage to happen naturally or go in for a D&C. I chose to wait – partially because there’s a risk of scarring with the procedure and we’d have to pay a chunk of money for it but mostly because the procedure just lingers in my mind as an abortion…that would stick in my mind always even though this would not be the same scenario.

So here I am…weeks later…finally miscarrying after nearly 10 weeks of pregnancy in a most painful and uncomfortable way. It’s been 5 days…it could take up to 10 they say. Physically…exactly what they said should be happening is…and that’s a blessing I suppose. Emotionally? I’ve never been more broken, jaded, angry, bitter, disappointed, lost, heartbroken, upset, mixed up, disenchanted, negative and ready to give up the dream. For the first time in our marriage, my husband is the positive one, the rock and the one keeping hopes up. For the first time in our marriage, I don’t see the silver lining or the hope that it will happen one day…those places in my head and heart are full of something dark right now. Jaded is probably the best word for it…I’m jaded. I no longer have it in me to find hope in the doctors, friends and family who say “It just wasn’t right this time and it is all for the best….It will happen for you guys…You can’t give up because it will all work out”.

Sure.

My hope? That one of these days I wake up and can find that positive outlook again…that I can put on another brave face and try to start a family again. My fear? That I’ve lost the ability to be positive in the face of this mess…that I’ve lost the drive to try and start a family again because it hurts too much physically and emotionally every time this happens. So I’m writing and I’m praying. Because I don’t know what else to do.

So there you have it. I have always been a glass half full kind of person so these feelings of sadness, anger and bitterness that decided to set up shop in my head were new to me.

I got through it – some days were fine and some days included time spent curled up in a ball on the floor of the room that was supposed to be a nursery. Every day was filled with prayer. There doesn’t seem to be a best way to cope with heartache.

If you happened to stumble onto this post because you are going through a miscarriage or went through one: I’m glad that Google happened to send you my direction. I hope that my words and the small pieces of my story help you in some way. The most comforting words that I read during both experiences came from people who didn’t sugar coat it and who exposed all of their ugly insecurities for the world to read about.

It’s been one hell of a year and here is what I can say with confidence:

I do not feel stronger. But my marriage is – the hurt that was born of these situations brought my husband and I closer together. I thank God for him every day.

I am blessed.

I am jaded.

I am hopeful.

And when all else fails…I am still.

The Lord will fight for you; you need only be still. - Exodus 14:14 - 

Write even when it feels wrong...

I love to write. In school you’re forced to write about so many things that you don’t really care about, that you don’t want to research and focus on, that I think some kids eventually associate all writing with those homework related labors…and they stop.

I started writing journals in elementary school that continued all through junior high and high school and well into college. I had planned on keeping them forever to someday look back with nostalgia upon those memories. I think writing down memories is important because you never know how long your mind will be allowed to hold onto them for you.

The journals were filled with all kinds of things: daily tasks, crushes, happiness, work, family, trips, love, anger, etc. None of it was my best writing but it documented daily life. I destroyed most of those journals one day after sitting and reading through some of my more angry entries that seemed to bring those hostile feelings to the surface again for no good reason. I had decided that the journals had to go so that I could not reference those bad days anymore. Any grudges or fights written about in the past would all be thrown away. I had decided that if those days and those feelings did not remain in my memory on their own, then they were not worth being in my life at all anymore. It’s silly and I probably shouldn’t have done it so hastily but it does demonstrate the power that a memory has…even when it’s just dusty writing on a page.

I digress.

I love to write. And that’s why I started writing online years ago to an audience that may not exist. I love the days when I feel so inspired about something that I have to start writing it down immediately because I don’t want to lose it. I love when the words are coming to me so quickly that I hardly have time for my hands to catch up and by the time the pages have been typed I have no idea what I’ve said.

You’ll notice that I haven’t written on this particular blog in months.

I love to write. But we’ve been through some challenges throughout the past year that have left my heart, mind and writing at a loss. I’ve written 3 entries…8 pages detailing the challenges of the past year but no one has read them or has known that they exist. I have kept most of my words to myself, typed up for the sake of getting them out of my system and for the purpose of remembering exactly how I felt in those moments.

Recently, I finally wrote about some of the struggle on my other blog, Full of Reason. Admitting loss, failure, worries, and fears to other people…it’s like walking into a crowd naked. I don’t know that I will ever have the guts to share those 3 entries with anyone. But I have come to realize this:

Writing is sometimes more than just putting words on a page to entertain or to educate others. Sometimes writing is therapy. Sometimes it’s a dialogue with God. Sometimes writing it all down forces you to come to terms with it. And…as was the case with those dusty old journals…maybe the simple act of destroying the writing is more helpful than the writing ever was to begin with.

Why an entire post about the benefits of writing? Well I spent some time today reading a woman’s blog that details her family’s struggle through losing 3 babies over the past year and most recently finding black mold in their family home that forced them to abandon their house and get rid of most of their belongings. There is darkness, honesty and vulnerability in her writing but it always seems to be laced with hope. And the very fact that through all of the ups and downs she continues to write it all down for the world to see is the perfect example of how writing can help someone through even their darkest days.

It’s worth the read – I’d recommend starting with “Charlie’s Story” first http://www.charliessong.com/ to really get an understanding of why she started writing in the first place.

So you may be asking yourself…is there a moral to this long winded post?

Not sure there is one…I just felt like I needed to write.

Love,

Elyse

Dear Makayla...

16 Random Thoughts for Makayla on her 16^th Birthday:

Dear Makayla,

Driving is the best perk of turning 16…no argument there…but it’s also a massive responsibility.

Sleep-in as much as you can…while you can.

Do not follow the example of so many others on the road these days… do not text while driving. Not only is it dangerous but it’s terribly obnoxious. These people are my least favorite people on the road… and I don’t want to lump you into that category.

Year book photos will only come back to haunt you if you become famous…otherwise don’t worry about it.

If you ever get lost driving around town and you’re feeling down and embarrassed about it – just remember that at 16 I got lost trying to drive home from your house, couldn’t find it, cried, called home in hysterics and once my parents came to escort me home…I realized that I was only one street away from where I was trying to go. Feel better? You’re welcome.

Keep a journal. You’ll be happy you did and you’ll be surprised how much you forget without one.

Learn how to drive stick shift from someone who’s patient…and never let that skill get rusty. Trust me…you’ll need it again someday.

Avoid drama. Friends in High School are great…you may even keep some of them for life…but most of them you will only stay in touch with through social media…and others you will forget their names entirely. So try to keep that perspective on days when it seems like all of your friends are dragging you through unnecessary drama.

Put something tacky in your car when you get it. It’s a rite of passage I think: fuzzy dice, hula girls, scented pine trees, furry steering wheel covers, etc.

Participate in all kinds of random/fun activities at school. I was often too intimidated to join groups or try out for things because I was afraid of rejection or failure. Worry less and try more.  

Be proud that you are earning money for and paying for your vehicle. Yes, some kids get cars with bows that they can show off. But you get more than that because you will have earned your car and it will make you appreciate it so much more. That’s something to be proud of.

Hug your parents and brother regularly and don’t ever stop saying please and thank you…regardless of age.

Expect to start running errands for Mom and Dad as soon as you get your license. It’s a given.

Practice regular random acts of kindness. “And in the end the love you take is equal to the love you make" - The Beatles - 

Celebrate your accomplishments. I like to go with a 30 second dance party...it’s not everyone’s cup of tea. Just make sure to acknowledge and celebrate victories.

16 is one of the especially fun years – enjoy it, don’t rush through it and don’t act any older than 16…it will go by fast enough on its own.

 

Love,

Elyse

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Stars...

 

 

"Stars"

By Grace Potter & The Nocturnals

I lit a fire with the love you left behind,
And it burned wild and crept up the mountainside.
I followed your ashes into outer space
I can't look out the window,
I can't look at this place,

I can't look at the stars,
They make me wonder where you are
Stars,
Up on heaven's boulevard
And if I know you at all,
I know you've gone too far
So I, I can't look at the stars

All those times we looked up at the sky,
Looking out so far,
We felt like we could fly.
And now I'm all alone in the dark of night,
The moon is shining,
But I can't see the light,
And I can't look at the

Stars,
They make me wonder where you are
Stars,
Up on heaven's boulevard
And if I know you at all,
I know you've gone too far
So I, I can't look at the stars

Stars,
Stars,
They make me wonder where you are
Stars,
Up on heaven's boulevard
And if I know you at all,
I know you've gone too far
So I can't look at the stars.

Little Glimpses of Love...

It wasn’t that long ago that my Grandma took a fall that sent her to the emergency room. My Grandpa has spent every day with her as she recovered. Thank God she is back home healing now but it hasn’t been an easy path for either of them. It seems that almost every time that I sit down to write, my grandparents come to my mind so…today’s letter is for them.

Dear Grandma and Grandpa,

I am not silly. I know that you do not use the internet and that you will likely never see this blog or this letter …but I know that putting the thoughts and words down are important to me and that you don’t need to read this letter because you already know everything that I’m about to write.

You have had some tough months… and here is what I’ve come to realize from them:

- You are full of strength and devotion. You have overcome some really big obstacles with love, humor, tears and grit. And even when you think you are at your worst – you are still the best.

 

- Grandma, you married an amazing and warm man. Grandpa, you married a wonderful woman full of grace. For years, you have shown us what “family love” is through long talks, big hugs and constant smiles. But over the past months we have had the privilege of seeing little glimpses of what “true love” is as well. Through you we’ve seen …small gestures with big heart…the holding of a hand so that the other doesn’t feel left out in a conversation, the placing of a sweater around cold shoulders on a dark day and a wink during a conversation that seems to be part of some sweet inside joke that we’ll never really understand.

 

- Our family is blessed. We have always been a family that takes care of one another regardless of circumstance or distance. This has not changed and the tough times have been a testimony to just how strong our family can be when challenged.

I hope that you always know how much you are loved and admired.

Love,

Elyse

Love it or Live it...

In the age of texting instead of calling I find myself in a constant conversation with my friends and family via text message. I like to tell myself that it’s not… but it is an addiction because I consistently wonder what they are up to and am always trying to find random and funny things to text them during the day.

I noticed recently that I have a habit of typing “live” when I intend to type “love”. I’m not really sure that I can even blame autocorrect for that…I just keep doing it. It occurred to me that the past few times were all situations in which I meant to type out “I love that” and instead I typed “I live that”. 

Well that’s a little deep for a text message…but it got me thinking…

If you truly love something shouldn’t you live it?

For example, those who love fitness and health live a lifestyle that reflects that. Those who start a family, love their children and make their kids their life and so on. And then there are so many of us that talk about a passion and love for various things in life but we don’t really get out there and live them.

I am just as guilty as the next person…perhaps my hands are trying to tell my heart something:

If you love it…live it.

Thoughts for a New Year.

Love,

Elyse

4 Years Later...

4 Years ago today I woke up in a hotel room…surrounded by my family and an air of excitement and anticipation. Weddings are notoriously nerve wracking and stressful and I would be lying if I told you that I didn’t threaten to throw up a few times that day. But one of the strongest memories that I carry from that day isn’t from the wedding itself or even the reception.

It was the first 5 minutes after I woke up on the morning of our wedding. I had slept such a sound sleep, with no interruptions and no waking up worried or nervous. I didn’t even wake early…my family had to coax me to wake up that morning. I remember lying in bed as the day began feeling so relaxed and disturbingly calm. I suppose some might call it the calm before the storm since the day had yet to really begin. But I know better…I get nervous when I am doing something that scares me, when I worry something may not turn out the way I want, when I’m doing something that I’m not sure that I should or when I’m intimidated. I was not nervous that morning when I woke up because I knew that on that day I was going to do exactly what I was meant to do.

God doesn’t bring people into your life half-hazardly… everyone (good or bad) touches your life for a reason. It would be fairy tale magic to say that I met my husband, immediately knew that he was the one and we rode off into the sunset. It would be honest to say that I met my husband, enjoyed some sarcastic banter and proceeded to spend every year falling more in love with who he is and who I am with him. Friendship can be difficult, dating can be challenging and marriage can be hard…but all of these things, when laced with love, laughter and faith,  are worth it when you’ve found the one you are meant to tie your life to.

It seems that the traditional gifts that are exchanged in honor of a 4 year anniversary are flowers and fruit. This year we both agreed that neither of us really wanted an edible arrangement and we could do something better with the money that would be spent on a random fruit basket. So we did one of my favorite things to do…gave back.

In celebration of our 4 year anniversary, we donated 10 fruit trees through World Vision to provide food and hopefully future income to families in need. The skeptics that I know will say that we have no way of proving that World Vision will really provide fruit trees and that our money may actually be spent elsewhere. But those who are much like I am (the optimists) will believe that this organization will use the funds for good…regardless…and there is no better way to celebrate our love, happiness and blessings than to try and share that with others.

Happy 4^th Anniversary Husband.

 

Love,

Elyse

Today...

29 years ago today my best friend was born.

I thank God for that day and every day that he has planned for his life. I thank his parents for raising a man who is everything a wife could ask for and who is wonderful in a way that could never accurately be described. I couldn’t be more thankful for today…because today will always be the day that my best friend began his journey.

Happy Birthday Husband - there are so many people thankful for today…thankful for you. 

 

Love,

Elyse

Practice Makes Perfect...

A few weeks ago I started a morning routine of reading a daily devotional before really beginning my day. In the past, I have always started my morning in prayer and then jumped right into my work. I realized recently that I wanted to spend a little more time with God and to have something to focus on for the day ahead. This has been one of my better decisions because it forces me to start the day off with a clearer focus and perspective. So often I start the day off with a bad attitude or whining about trivial things…trust me…it’s easy to do when you’re not a morning person.

This morning’s devotional was titled “Keep on Keeping On” which not only cracked me up (I truly can’t picture the author of this book saying that with a straight face) but also included some key concepts that I really need to focus on this month:

#1) It is important to continue doing what you know is right – even if you are the only one who’s doing it.

It’s one of those reminders that challenges you to stop and take inventory of and responsibility for your actions. It is so convenient to justify doing things that may not be right by comparing ourselves to others or following in other people’s footsteps. Sure, follow the leader was fun when we were kids…but nowadays it’s best to make sure you know where you’re going and why you’re going there.

The Challenge?

To walk my own path, to not be influenced by others and to make choices that I know and feel are right.
 

#2) God is on your side.

I am guilty of this…as I am sure many other are as well… we forget that God is for us. On more than one occasion I have found myself asking God why – Why this? Why now? Why me? It is so easy to slip into this habit of asking why…and sadly this type of prayer tends to take on an almost accusatory tone when we feel things are difficult or wrong.

The Challenge?

To remember that God is always on my side and that choosing to have faith in God is also choosing to have faith in His timing and His plans.

And here’s the rub: It is so easy to read and write about these concepts and revelations…it’s much harder to practice them.

I'm not sure that I believe that practice makes "perfect" but it sure couldn't hurt to try. 

 

Love,
Elyse

Rain...

Today I stood in the rain. I haven’t done that in so long…just taken a few minutes to forget about everything and to care about nothing. Children do it all of the time. They lose themselves in something joyful and exciting and forget about everything else in that moment. I needed the rain today.

When Jax was a puppy I used to take him into the side yard early every morning. I would go out with him to make sure he actually took care of business instead of just sniffing walls. And in the few minutes I was out in the early morning air I would pick a point in the sky to look at and just say “thank you” out loud. It was my way of saying good morning to God without prayer and without any expectation…just a moment to be thankful for another day.

It’s been a long time since I have done that and now I find that the only time I do it is when I’m out running around and notice that the day or the weather is nice. Today when it started raining I decided it was the perfect time to take my break from work. I walked outside into the shadows and rain and just stood there. Hands out, face to the sky and all smiles with nothing on my mind other than “thank you”.

While I stood there, the clouds briefly parted to let sun shine through and yet the rain continued. One of my favorite quotes that I’ve mentioned in the past includes the statement, “I believe in God even when He is silent”. It’s moments like feeling the sun shine through the rain that feel like a personal conversation between me and God. And as the rain washed away the dirt from the days prior…it washed away the negativity and the grime from my attitude…leaving behind thankfulness and perspective.

Sometimes it’s not that God is silent…it’s that we don’t take the time to listen.

Take the time to stand in the rain this week.

Love,

Elyse

Dear Ethan...

I have been trying to write letters to my husband regularly but I thought a little change of pace would be okay this week.

My best friend is expecting her first baby in August and I ran into (my new favorite) baby shower activity online today – Wishes for Baby.

So little Ethan, today I write to you…

Dear Ethan,

I hope you learn: how to forgive. It’s a lesson that some people will never learn but it is valuable and it will be important to you as you grow up.

I hope you aren’t afraid: to take chances. Sometimes the most intimidating obstacles have the biggest rewards behind them.

I hope you love: without hesitation. Love is magical and you’re already entering the world surrounded by so much of it.

I hope you get: your mom’s ability to quote movies and your dad’s love for golf. Never underestimate the power of a funny quote and a killer golf swing.

I hope you laugh: every day. You’ll probably notice that your “Aunt” Elyse laughs at her own jokes pretty regularly. Make sure you can laugh at yourself – it’s good for you.

I hope you never forget: how loved you are. You are a little bundle of magic that God has blessed your parent’s lives with and they already love you so more than they can express.

I hope you ignore: Negativity. It will never do you any good and it’s easy to let it take over…avoid negative people, comments and attitudes.

I hope you become: everything you dream of being. Do not let anyone talk you out of your hopes and dreams. Let your faith be bigger than your fear.

I hope you respect: everyone. Always use “Please” and “Thank you” and never (ever) let a door shut on a lady.

I hope you grow: up happy and healthy. I hope that every day is filled with smiles, laughter, discovery and love.

Love,

Elyse

A Letter to My Husband - Opposites Attract

The topic this week is the saying, “opposites attract”. 
(I hope that I am not the only one who immediately starts humming the Janet Jackson song)

I have always thought that this was kind of an obvious statement but I suppose because it does hold some truth to it, there’s no harm in using it.

Dear Husband,

From day one you have always been the book smart one. You are the one who understands numbers, business and history (and actually likes these things). Me? I like to think that what I lack in math and history smarts I make up for with a love for literature and all things artistic. You are a worrier by nature and you have figured out how to make a sport of pacing around the house tormenting yourself about what could happen. I tend to be the type who believes that most of the time things could be worse and that we will just have to deal with what life hands us when it happens. You think I’m crazy for sitting down with a book for hours and losing myself in its pages and characters. I think you’re crazy for sitting down with the golf channel for more than 5 minutes. You almost always try to keep your thoughts and emotions to yourself while I prefer to talk about almost everything that comes across my mind.  You have a natural instinct regarding directions and an ability to determine where to go regardless of where we are and I…sadly … would get lost in a paper bag.

I could probably go on for days about the things that make us so different from one another but it doesn’t matter how many things there are or what they are in the long run. We fell in love despite our differences because love finds a common ground and then grows. We have grown up together and have learned to embrace our differences, our commonalities and the changes.

That being said, I have this sneaking suspicion that you are going to come home tonight and excitedly bake stuffed salmon in the house while I gag and make cartoon-like faces (I do not like when the house smells like fish and I think your salmon looks the same going down as it would coming up. Ugh.) Just another example that some days...we are so different. But ya know what?

I’m loving every minute of it.

Love,

Elyse

A Letter to My Husband – On the Morning Routine

I wrote a little while back about a couple that decided to write each other letters (on a particular topic) each Monday. I adore that this couple shares their thoughts with each other and the world and seem to write so eloquently about simple, day-to-day topics.

My goal going forward (please don’t hold me to it) is to write to my husband each week/month taking a cue from the topics that others have written on. He may never read the letters or perhaps someday he may stumble across them and laugh about his crazy wife and her constant need to write about life.

A Letter to My Husband – On the Morning Routine

(The original topic was on the nightly routine but I found myself drawn towards the morning with you)

Dear Husband,

It’s 11am and I’m sitting at my desk with my lunch in hand and my back turned to the work world for a short while. I’m finally starting to feel awake which is sad considering I woke up at 6:40am and it’s nearly noon. I think about the way each morning starts with you and the vast differences there are between us when it comes to how we handle them. Your energy is something akin to a toy car that you pull backwards and then let go – zooming around the room, crashing into things and creating random joy and chaos. I would relate my morning energy to that of a deadly snake. I often slink out of bed slowly and slither around the room and if tested will strike at whoever gets in my way (a lesson you have yet to learn).

I enjoy our morning banter and the fact that you always try to get me to make you breakfast and lunch. I will never understand how you eat pizza or leftover fish for breakfast but I appreciate the fact that you dispose of any leftovers I refuse to eat. I love that you have to have sports talk on to provide the soundtrack to your morning routine and that it’s pointless because you heard it all the night before as  you fell asleep listening to Sports Center. I fear that I know more about sports than I have ever wanted to as a result.

My favorite moment in our morning routine is also my least because kissing you goodbye for the day is both sweet and sad. In an ideal world we would never have this part of the morning routine because we would spend each day on a random and fun adventure together. You leave for work (after I make you check your pockets for a wallet and phone) and I spend the next few minutes with God. In the brief silence following the moment you walk out the door I make sure to pray for you and everyone that I love, for the day ahead.

This is our typical morning routine and it makes me consider how lonely my morning routine once was without you. Funny how something as simple as reflecting on daily habits can make you appreciate what you have. So husband, here’s to all of the mornings we have had together and to all of the mornings I look forward to sharing with you in the future.

Love,

Elyse

One Foot Forward...

“Ugh Elyse…you’re so boring.”

This is the mental dialogue that bounces around in my head every time I sit down to write something new lately. When I don’t write it builds up and then I have too many thoughts and not enough words to express them. So I forced myself to sit still today…to just think…which led to looking around blankly…which eventually led me to my feet.

I know what you’re thinking (if you’re like me in regards to feet), “Eew”.

But before you start visualizing my not so lovely feet and why I would even imagine starting a blog with that mental image…bear with me…

Not long ago I wrote about Perspective and how God continues to help me find it when I seem to be losing sight of what’s important http://eb-allyouneedislove.blogspot.com/2011/08/perspective.html . There was a quote that He placed in front of me that day that spoke to me and has continued to ever since.

I’d like to say that the quote and His guidance that day set me straight, that I haven’t lost focus of the significant blessings in my life and that I’m nothing but smiles every day …but that would be a lie. I still have those random bad days of feeling lost, worried, angry and sometimes jealous…but that’s normal and God knows that I will never be anything close to perfect. I think that God acknowledges our tendency to lose focus and surrounds us with people, moments, words, songs and situations that are meant to guide us back.

So for Elyse Navidad this year, along with celebrating with family and friends, I decided to get a reminder of this life lesson…a new tattoo.

Now you must realize that the Husband is not particularly fond of tattoos…he never has been and likely never will be. However, he tolerates my adoration for them and supports me regardless…and I think it probably helped that I wasn’t going for anything higher than the foot.  

Sadly, one cannot fit a quote that large onto a foot my size (trust me…it was going to be a hot mess) so I had to get creative with what I wanted to include.

The final result:

I believe in love even when I don’t feel it.

I believe in God even when he is silent.

I am so happy with how it turned out and as silly as it may seem, I love that this tattoo is on my foot. Many of you know that I also have a tattoo on my other foot that I got with my sisters a few years back. It’s special to me because they are and now both of my tattoos continue to remind me to always keep life in perspective and that I am truly blessed.  

“Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path.” Psalm 119:105

P.S. – That’s leftover ink on my foot…not dirt…I did not Flinstone my way to the tattoo shop that day.

Love,

Elyse