storytelling

THE DAY WE MET

He didn’t walk.  He strolled into class each day with no sort of urgency.  Five minutes late? Not a problem to him.  It intrigued me.  The way a child is intrigued by a dog the first time the meet.  Slightly terrified and overly excited. 

He was a completely different student than I was.  My ducks were always in a row, nothing late, never absent.  He wasn’t a trouble maker, he got good grades, and always respected the professor but there was a hint of inattentiveness in his studies that interested me.  And those eyes.  God, those eyes interested me.  They told a story.

The first time our eyes met was like waves crashing onto a beach.  Mine, blue.  His, a sandy brown.  All I remember thinking was it would be an honor to be loved by those eyes.

A WARM EMBRACE

I have grown to be pretty desensitized of my dad's passing.  It's not that I don't miss him or that he doesn't cross my mind on a daily basis, I just have grieved with him being gone in a different way.

I celebrate birthdays a little harder and appreciate wrinkles a little more.  Growing old is a privilege that is denied to so many incredible people that I look forward to it.  Not many understand that each tiny crease and furrow on our faces represents a moment in time in which we struggled, overcame, or simply lived.  People are so set on filling in those crevices that they forget to remember how they ended up there in the first place.

Thirteen and a half years ago I lost the man who taught me what it meant to see the world.  Not just with my wandering eyes but with the core of my being.  We explored as much of this world as we could before he moved on to what people call, "a better place".  I loathe that term.  Devoted and a fighter, he would never have left his wife and children and considered it a better place.  I hope everyone knows that about any loved ones they have had to say goodbye to.  They are not leaving you, they are always around.

I believe in signs and feeling a loved one's presence but I thought for the longest time that I would never be able to feel my dad around me.  Last winter, all of that changed. I went skiing for the first time in 11 years.  Learning when I was two between my dad's legs, I loved the slopes.  After a few ankle breaks (yes, a few), I stopped for the sake of gymnastics.  It paid off and I went on to compete in college.  The second my career was over, I knew I would be hitting the slopes that winter.  The day came and I spent 10 hours out there.  I could not stop.  It felt magical and so right.  For the first time, in my life, I felt like I was being embraced.  A warm, familiar scented, embrace.  I sat on a chair lift next to my friend, Joey, and knew that my father was sitting on the other side of me.

It was the strangest yet most comforting feeling I have ever experienced.  Never lose hope that you will be able to fill an embrace you are longing for.  It will show up in the most unexpected places.

I'M THE LUCKY ONE

If I had to name the most authentic, resilient, admirable human I know, it would without a doubt be my mom.  There is not a single person who would speak poorly of her and the only beings she doesn't like are ones who have crossed her daughters.  Even then, she is still cordial to them.

This women has a heart larger than life and will do anything to make someone smile.

Her body tells a story.  She is teeny with a gigantic bite.  She makes Zeus look weak and Amy Schumer dull.  Her hands are strong from all the moments she held mine.  I hope to have laugh lines like hers one day, full of cherished memories.  She is capable of anything and has the capacity to make me feel the same.  Everyone feels welcomed in her presence and that my friend, is a gift.

She has experienced more agony and carried more weight on her delicate frame then I could fathom but for that, I am eternally grateful.

Karen is a ray of sunshine on a dreary day.  A flood in the middle of a California drought.  The first bite of a gooey cookie fresh from the oven.  A child the first time they meet Santa Clause.  The first shooting star you ever get to make a wish upon.  Karen is joy.

Pure joy.