Good News Will Work Its Way to All Them Plans

When Anna passed away, I was given a lot of advice, told a lot of inspirational things and supported to the max. However, out of all of those words of advice and inspirational quotes, etc. one thing stuck in my head all these months, and until now I didn't really know why.


One of Anna's favorite songs was Float On by Modest Mouse. She liked it so much and found it inspirational through her battle with cancer that she had it tattooed on her wrist. Today, the simple words "Float on", not to mention the song itself are almost synonymous with Anna; if you knew her or at least knew of her you most likely associate "Float On" with her. At the time of her passing, I'd heard the song a few times and knew it was a favorite of Anna's but wasn't overly familiar with the lyrics. That night, after everyone left and it finally hit me that I was going to have to live the rest of my life without my sister (a feeling I will never, ever forget) I was doing what any normal person would do doing what a social media freak would do using the internet to express my feelings and tweeting about it. One of Anna's friends wrote me back with the lyrics from Float On "Bad news comes, don't you worry even when it lands. Good news will work its way to all them plans." At the time, I didn't think much of it other than that I liked it a lot. It gave me hope that maybe something good can come out of this.


Today, on the 8 month anniversary of her passing, I can say with absolute certainty that good news worked its way to all them plans. So many amazing things have happened in Anna's memory. First, we got to visit with her favorite band and hear how much she changed them. We participated in Red Balloon Race for the hospital she was treated at. And, most amazing of all, we started a foundation in her memory to help other families that have been affected by the same type of cancer, to start a scholarship fund and to help research efforts to try to prevent anyone from ever feeling that emptiness of losing someone they love to cancer.


But last week, we received the best news of all that we were given an amazing donation of $75,000!!!! My family and I are huge Dallas Mavericks fans, and we keep up with them regularly. We heard that their own, Mark Cuban, had been fined by the NBA for some not-so-nice comments he made about the refs after a game. We also heard that he always matched his fines (he gets fined a lot because he doesn't like to keep his opinion to himself and the NBA doesn't always agree with what he says) with a donation to charity. My mom thought why not e-mail him about our foundation and ask him to consider donating to us? Later that night, I got a text message with this in it. 

It was official; Mark Cuban was donating $75,000 to us!!!! Words can not describe the feeling I had when I found out. Later, a friend of Anna's posted on facebook "Good news definitely worked its way into the foundation's plans. 1million4anna is gonna do some incredible things." I couldn't have said it better myself. It is more clear than ever, now, that good news is working its way to our plans. I have always believed that God had a reason for taking Anna from this Earth. I knew that her purpose was to touch lives and it is clear that she is continuing to do that from heaven, maybe even more so. Which is why God needed her up there, so she can help orchestrate all the amazing things that are happening. It doesn't make it not hurt, but like I said last week, it sure does it make it easier. 

Another one of her best friends posted on Facebook today (they seem to be good with their words or maybe I'm just lacking my own material) "Eight months ago we started counting Wednesdays. Then the weeks turned to months, and we started counting those instead. Today's the first Wednesday the 8th since June, and I can honestly say that I love you and miss you just as much today as I did those first couple of weeks, if not more."This pretty much sums up my feelings today, on the 8 month anniversary of her death. It still hurts. It still sucks. I still wake up every day wishing I could text or call her. I still miss her beautiful smile and her contagious laugh. I would give anything just to hear her say "I love you, Iss" one more time. But I am so proud of what is happening in her honor and I know she is too. I know she's up there making it all happen so we can help other people. I know this is exactly what she would want her legacy to be, and I am honored to be a part of it, no matter how small or big. 

I am linking up with Shell at Things I Can't Say for Pour Your Heart Out

Float on, beautiful Angel <3

PYHO: Healing

Last week, I was talking to a friend who accused me of "slacking" on my blog. "I know," I told him, while listing my excuses "I'm back at school, and I'm so busy..." "Plus," I told him, "I'm kind of running out of things to say that I haven't already said." (I'm pretty sure this is what they call an epiphany!) His response was "maybe that's a good thing," and he explained that my writing for me is therapeutic; I write when something is bothering me and (obviously) what's "bothering" me lately (to put it lightly) is dealing with Anna's death. Maybe, he suggested, the fact that I have nothing to say means I am healing. Immediately, I felt guilty. How can I move on? How can I be ok with the fact that I no longer have my sister? I felt as if by healing I was a bad sister. A bad person. That I am doing something in this stage of grief.

The more I thought about it, though, I realized I was thinking about this all wrong. That this is, in fact, healthy. I am in no way, nor could I ever, forgetting what I have been through losing my sister. I will never forget the day my mom looked me in the eyes and told me that, yes, she was going to die. I will never forget the day she took her last breath. I will never forget the last time I told her I loved her. I will never forget her.

Healing also doesn't mean the pain isn't there. It doesn't mean that every time something reminds me of her I wish I could pick up the phone and call her. It doesn't mean that the 3 month anniversary of her death last week wasn't one of my saddest days. It doesn't mean that every time someone talks about siblings or their sister, that a part of me doesn't die a little. It doesn't mean that I don't miss her every day. All those things are still true, but they are getting easier. The pain doesn't go away; it just becomes a part of life and is therefore easier to deal with.

I know that is normal. I know that I can't and shouldn't spend the rest of my life being sad and crying. Obviously, life goes on. I also know that Anna would want me to move on, and to be happy. To live my life. She never wanted anyone to be sad, and this is no exception. So I have to let go of the guilt and let myself heal. Because even though I never wanted to live my life without her, now I have to.

I also know that this is still only the beginning; there were still be so many tough times ahead. I know that the grieving process doesn't really end; it will always be a part of my life. That just because I am starting to heal doesn't mean that I am over it. I will never be "over" losing my sister. I think that is why I was feeling guilty; because I felt that by saying I am healing, I must be over it. But I know that I am not all the way healed. I am NOT over it. I am just beginning the healing process, and that is a good thing.

Healing doesn't mean forgetting. It doesn't mean that the pain isn't there anymore. It just means that I am learning to deal with it.

I found this poem on facebook last week, and I think it is pretty perfect. "I wish heaven had a phone so I could hear your voice again. I thought of you today, but that is nothing new, I thought about you yesterday, and days before that too. I think of you in silence, I often speak your name. All I have are memories and a picture in a frame. Your memory is a keepsake, from which I'll never part. God has you in his arms...I have you in my heart."


Missing you, now and always...

 I am linking up at Things I Can't Say with Pour Your Heart Out.

PYHO: Seasonal Depression

The time has come. I was doubtful it would ever arrive after months and months of snow and bitterly cold temperatures, but spring seems to be officially here. I realize that for most people this is a great thing, a happy thing. But for me? It causes what I have self diagnosed as seasonal depression.

I know it seems crazy. Beautiful weather, beautiful plants, the ability to actually be outdoors and not freeze.. how does that cause depression?! Let me try to explain...

I have never been a skinny person; it's just not how I'm built. But lately I have gained a lot of weight. I have let myself get so far out of control I don't know how to get back. And most of all, I have been in denial. Winter was easy. Throw on some jeans and a sweatshirt and you don't really have to face what your body looks like under all those layers, so you can tell yourself that you look great. That you haven't gained that much weight. That no one can tell how fat you are.

And then comes Spring... which means short shorts, tank tops, mini skirts and teeny tiny dresses. This brings out all my insecurities and multiplies them by like 1000. Eventually, it is so hot outside that you really can't wear jeans anymore and be fine. Which means it is time for the inevitable but awful; it is time to bust out the shorts. Just the word makes me cringe; I have a hate/hate relationship with shorts. First of all, why do they have to be so short? I don't want shorts that barely pass my crotch because underneath that are my thunder thighs that I am not trying to show off to the world. Second, why is there nothing between the really short shorts and the bermuda shorts? And finally, why is it so hard to find shorts past size 8? Because fat people shouldn't wear shorts? Well then what do you suggest we wear during the spring/summer?!!

And that's just the shorts. Last weekend, when it was 90 outside and there was a frat party that night, I was faced with a whole new dilemma. What on earth do I wear to some random frat party when A) it's 90 outside even at night and B) this means all the other girls are wearing something itty bitty which is what girls are expected to wear in this weather? This seriously caused me so much stress I considered multiple times not going and I may have shed a tear or two. (Not the first time this has happened.) This requires not only digging out my warm weather clothes that are safely tucked away, but also trying things on and facing the sad reality that half of it doesn't fit anymore.

Also, warm weather clothes are not exactly forgiving like winter clothes. They don't cover up the tummy that has expanded to the point that I look 8 months pregnant. They don't hide the FUPA. They don't hide my thunder thighs that rub together when I wear a dress or a skirt. (Side note, yes, putting deodorant there helps. But do you know how self defeating it feels to rub deodorant on your thighs? It's not exactly a confidence booster.) They don't hide my flabby arms that have taken a life of their own to the point where I can't wear sleeveless tops without being so insecure I can't think about anything else except how big my arms must look. They are forcing to me to face all my imperfections and I can't handle.

So, while some people want to stay inside and never leave the house during winter, I prefer to stay inside when it's warm. I don't want to have put on that sleveless top that shows my enormous arms. I don't want to have to rub deodorant on my thighs before leaving the house. Most of all, I don't want to face my body. I want to put on my sweatpants and big sweatshirt and get under the covers and hide. Hide from myself and hide from reality. So, you enjoy your warm weather. I'll be here. Counting the days until it is winter again...

I am linking up at Things I Can't Say today for Pour Your Heart Out.

Back to Normal

Pour your heart out could not fall on a better day this week. I really need to pour my heart out.

This has been a week. One of those weeks that feels like it should be over by now because I'm over it. Where do I even start?

My sister went into the hospital over the weekend because she was in so much pain she could barely walk. So they needed to give her pain meds through an IV, and figure out a new pain management plan and a new chemo plan and all that. So basically they've been in the hospital all week (which I realize is not that long since it's only Wednesday but like I said, feels like forever ago because this has been a long week) meeting with doctors and stuff.

This weekend is Mom's weekend at my sorority. It is a super fun weekend where everyone's moms come up, we do a brunch and an auction and just get to spend quality time with our moms. Last year, my mom couldn't come because Anna was in the middle of chemo and everything and the timing just wasn't right. I missed her a lot, but a super sweet mom of a friend "adopted" me for the weekend so I wouldn't be alone. Which was great, but not like having my mom here.

This year, Anna was supposed to off chemo this week and the timing was perfect for my mom to come for the weekend. I've been looking forward to this forever. I know I just saw her a couple weeks ago for Spring Break and I went home a few weeks before that, so it's not like it's been forever since I've seen her but this weekend is special, and no matter how many times I go home it's not the same as having my mom here. Here to see all my friends. To meet the ones she hasn't yet (like my little sis) and to spend alone time with just me. When I'm home, usually there's a lot going on like Anna's not feeling well or something and we just don't get to spend much time just the two of us. That's what I was looking forward to the most this weekend.

Turns out, it's not happening. Again. On Monday, when my mom said they would be in the hospital a few more days my heart dropped because I just knew this would happen. On the weekend that belonged to me. It was my turn to spend quality time with my mom. "You're still gonna come, right?" I asked her Monday even though I had a feeling it was wishful thinking. All week, I battled this sadness that was overcoming me and tried to stay positive. "It might still work out," I told myself. "I know she's gonna try her hardest to come." "It's just a day to day thing, we don't know what's going to happen."

Today, I couldn't do it anymore. I tried calling her all day and when I got a text saying they were moving rooms at the hospital, I knew they weren't leaving the hospital anytime soon. I knew my plans for the weekend were ruined. I couldn't help it; I lost it. And once I started crying, I couldn't stop. I was (and am) upset. Upset that my mom wasn't coming. Upset that my sister was in the hospital. Upset that I couldn't get a hold of my mom when I wanted. Upset that nothing was the way it should be. This isn't how life is supposed to be. There's not supposed to be hospital stays and unknowns and dammit, if my mom wants to come up for a weekend she should be able to.

I just want things to go back to normal. I want to live a normal life where we never see my sister because she's 17 and is always with her friends. (I don't mean the never see her part offensively but 17 year olds typically aren't home much) A normal life that doesn't involve hospitals. A normal life that doesn't involve cancer. And I know I'm not alone in wishing this, I'm just throwing myself a pity party because I was so excited to spend time with my mom, and I'm tired of being disappointed.

Maybe I'm being selfish by being upset. Because I'm not the one in the hospital and I'm not the one with cancer. My life is really not that bad compared to fighting cancer. I realize that. But it sucks when you're looking forward to something so much and then it doesn't happen. I don't blame my sister for being sick or taking attention away from me. I don't blame my mom for staying with her. I'm just upset at the situation, and every time someone says "I can't wait to see my mom this weekend," I want to burst into tears right then and there.

I also feel bad being upset because I don't want to make my mom upset. She has enough to deal with and I don't want her to worry about me too. I wouldn't even tell her why I was upset when she called today because I don't want to be a burden. But I am sad. Because there is nothing that can replace spending a weekend just the two of us...

On the bright side (I feel like I need to put a positive spin on this so it doesn't sound like poor, poor me. I have such a hard life), I get to go home for Easter, which will be nice. And there is a chance my godmother will be here to take my mom's place which would make me so happy. So it's not all bad, but no matter what I will miss my mom a lot this weekend.

So, for now, I am sulking. And self medicating with chocolate. And pouring my heart out. For now.

 I am linking up at Things I Can't Say for Pour Your Heart Out.

PYHO: Feeling Lucky

This week, I am on Spring Break. I have been counting down to this week for like, uh ever. School is stressful and super busy so I seriously covet anything with the word break in it (at least in the context that means I get a break from school).

Spring Break is an interesting concept in college. I suppose I am expected to be on some beach somewhere with hundreds of other college students who I just met (plus of course friends who I came with) and drinking a lot of alcohol and partying the week away only to return to school exhausted and hung over.

Yeah, well... I am at a beach. Except, instead of being with other college students I'm with my parents in an area in Florida where I'm pretty sure the average age is somewhere around 5 (with little or no other college students in sight). This is partially by choice. And partially because I wasn't invited on the big spring break trip that my friends planned and went on (or anywhere else for that matter).

This took along time to accept and I can't say I have fully accepted it because it hurts. It hurts like a slap in the face, like a big old F**K YOU. That's how I feel.

Because of this said slap in the face, I was left to make my own plans. My parents so generously offered to help me with this plans, they rented a loft in Florida for us and even told me to invite a friend or two (I did but it didn't work out.) My sister was invited to go to Florida with some of her friends, so it ended up just being me and my parents staying here Monday-Friday.

I will admit I had some hesitations about answering the inevitable "what are your plans for spring break" question with "I'm going on vacation with my parents." I kind of felt like a loser, at first; like I have such a non-existent social life that I have go on spring break with my parents." My parents are great, and I would even go so far as to describe them as "cool", so it wasn't them that was bothering me. It was more that I didn't have any other options.

But, I came, I saw and I have to admit, I am having a good time. The other night as I was eating a delicious meal with my parents, I thought about what I would be doing if I had gone on the "big" spring break trip with my friends. And you know what? I honestly wouldn't have it any other way. The more I thought about it, the more I considered myself lucky. Lucky that I have such great parents that I can spend a week with them without going absolutely crazy, Lucky that my parents would go to all of this trouble to plan a vacation just for the three of us. Lucky that I get to eat delicious food and spend time with my parents who I don't see that often. Lucky that my spring break is just that; a break. A chance to just sit on the beach and read if that's what I want to do. A chance to sleep in until noon if I want to. A chance to just relax.

After all is said and done, I am definitely counting my lucky stars this week and considering myself a lucky girl.

Collage of our vacation thus far. I apologize to my mother that she is not in this.
The one picture she and I have together is BAD (of me).

I'm linking up at Shell's for Pour Your Heart today. Happy 1 year anniversary, PYHO!

PYHO: My Place in this World

There's an old Taylor Swift song that has always been one of my favorites because I totally and completely related to the lyrics. It's all about feeling lost, and not really knowing what is coming next, and not knowing where your place is in the world (the song is called "A Place in this World"). Some of my favorite lyrics are "Don't know what's down this road, I'm just walkin..." and the end of the chorus is "I'm just a girl trying to find a place in this world."

This song resonated with me from the first time I heard it. But up until recently, it spoke to me even more than usual. For a lot of the summer and maybe even some of last semester, I started doubting a lot of the decisions I made in the past few years. I made a lot of important decisions, and fast, and suddenly I was questioning them and if they were right for me. More specifically, where I go to school. I started wondering if I really wanted to be at this school. I started feeling like I was missing something by being at such a small school, like I wasn't having a "real" college experience.

It was hard for me to deal with these feelings, to process them and to figure out what I was supposed to about them. I am a junior in college, it's a little late to change my whole life plan. By the time I finally opened up and spoke about my feelings, I was two weeks away from going back to school and it was too late to do anything about it. I didn't want to tell anyone how I felt because I felt like a failure for feeling that way. And I definitely didn't want to blog about it because I didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings. Since I didn't really have a choice, I went back to school for my third year, but with hesitation. I wasn't sure I wanted to be here. I wasn't sure that this was my place in the world. '

However, as I got back into town and started seeing familiar land marks, and got on campus, I started feeling like maybe it would be ok after all. That first night back in town, I went out to meet a few friends who were already in town, and within minutes of sitting there catching up with my friends, I knew. I knew that it was gonna be ok. The last couple weeks here haven't always been easy; there have been tears, and doubt about being here, even times when I was ready to pack up and leave. But eventually those feelings subside, and the feelings that remain are I can't imagine my life without these people, I love the feeling of this campus, I love being here. Those are what matter becaususe they mean more to me than any negative feelings.

Over two years ago when I started searching for colleges, I just knew that when I found the right place for me, I would just know.  Something would click for me, that told me this is where I'm supposed ot be. When I stepped onto this campus for the first time about a month before high school graduation feeling hopeless about finding a school, I got that feeling. I knew this is where I was supposed to be. And two years ago, when I joined Alpha Chi Omega, those feelings multiplied. I am where I am supposed to be. It may not be a Big 10 school with awesome football games, and crazy parties. It may not be a school anyone has ever heard of, but it is my school, and for that I am grateful. I am glad I found my place in this world.

I am linking up today at Shell's place for Pour Your Heart Out!