WHERE THE REAL STORY BEGINS

After a long and Taylor Swift filled ride home, I was ready to celebrate my 21st birthday with my closest friends.  I knew that this winter vacation was going to be different.  I would be able to take on the town with my babes and we were even going to be celebrating New Years in Philadelphia.  I was going to take full advantage of my single winter break. The madness that ensued after my arrival home is probably best kept off the internet but I can let you know that it was the perfect way to restart.  I headed back up to Rhode Island with a clear mind and full heart for my third season of college gymnastics.  This is where the story really begins.

The end of winter break whizzes by and the first week of classes is upon us.  Each day I walk into my classrooms praying to see his familiar face.  I search the room only to be met with defeat.  Somehow, out of the limited selection of classes our school has, we were not together in a single one.  Thursday was my last chance to be able to see you again

The sun rose on Thursday and I reluctantly climbed from my bed.  The air felt different that day.  Not in a "I know this is all going to work out" type of a way but more of a "the temperature dropped 15 degrees and I am frozen to the core" type of way.  I bundled up and ventured off into the snow covered campus.  I'm making it sound like my campus was enormous and I had to trek miles to get to class.  Instead, it was more a 30 second bone chilling walk for the shuttle that provided me with door to door service.  Same thing.  I sat through my day of classes until the last one arrived at 6:00.  I crawled my way to a chair and plopped my bag on the chair next to me.  I was surrounded by friends I regularly had classes with and we were happy to catch up after break.  Then it happened.  He walked into class.

He didn't always sit with my crowd but I saw him from across the classroom and shouted, "Hey Ted!! Come sit with us!"  What was I doing?  Where did this gallantry come from?  I quickly moved my bag from his chair and he took a seat next to me as the professor began to call attendance.

MY TURTLE SHELL

Weird analogy, I know, but follow me here.  The obvious use of a turtle shell is to protect the little guy inside.  It provides shelter and safeguards the animal against the harsh elements of the world.  It is inconceivably hard for predators and enemies to break through that shell.  The shell is also there for the turtle to hide behind.  It can retract into its shell when it feels threatened or panicked.  A feeling we know all too well in the world we live in today.  The shell of a turtle is also known as their spine.  It is the backbone that holds the animal together and keeps it strong.  The shell is a turtle’s home, it’s safe place, it’s sanctuary.

A turtle’s shell is fascinating, the uses for it and how it grows with the turtle instead of the turtle outgrowing it and having to find a new one.  It is beautiful and unique.  Parts of a turtle’s shell are also still undiscovered and not understood.  It is truly an amazing, yet complicated shield for the little being that lives inside.

Jacqui, my sister, is my turtle shell.

BLAME IT ON THE BLONDIES

“Whatever our souls are made of, his (*hers*) and mine are the same.”

Who knew the start of a lifelong friendship could start from me being the most judgmental and bratty 18 year old?  

Flashback to freshman year of college:  Loyal and steadfast to a fault.  A quiet and reserved girl with an overly presumptuous best friend.  This was me.  When my best friend didn’t like someone, neither did I and that is how this how thing started.   Long story short, junior girl wants to rejoin gymnastics team (because duh, we need her and she should).  Coach asks team’s opinion.  Team all says yes except for the four best friends that anyone could have.  Coach doesn’t listen to juvenile freshmen.  Girl joins anyway.  Strange twist of fate, freshmen and girl become inseparable.

I never would have thought that our friendship would have turned out this way but gosh darn did the stars align and I became the luckiest girl.  This woman is truly outstanding.  She will tell me like it is and she will most definitely tell others like it is if they do me wrong.  She is beautiful from the inside out.  I am telling you, rays of sunshine just beam out of her.

Our lives are eerily similar yet completely different.   She is one of those people that makes me want to overshare every detail of the hardest days.  I crave her knowing every one of my deepest secrets.  Not because I trust her with them but because I know she will love me anyways.  And that is what a true friendship is; loving someone endlessly without rhyme or reason.  You just love and love and love them because they are who they are.

Kate has been there to guide me through all four years of college.  Through the heart aches and belly laughs.  The never ending gymnastics van rides when I would cry at 12 am because he didn’t text me back and the never ending lunches in Donavon when I would leave 20 minutes early for class because I couldn’t imagine being late.  She was there for it all, she still is.  When I need someone to come sit with me at the ER because my mom is 925 miles away she is there.  When I need someone to tell me to stop talking (which is more often than not #nervousspeedtalker), she is there to say it.  When I need someone to hug, she is there, which is weird because the girl does not show emotions often.

I could honestly go on for hours about how Kate and I have the same soul but I will leave you with this.  When you have a Kate, you don’t let her go.  You keep her in your life because honestly, you won’t find another friend that comes close.

FIGHT YOUR FEARS

Months pass and here I am still faithful to the same guy, still sitting next to the handsome gentleman in class, still going through the motions.  Then it hit me.  It hit me quicker than snow would melt in July.  Why am I letting my fears control my future?

What fears, you ask?  The fear of hurting someone else and myself.  The fear of regret.  The fear of losing friends.  The fear of being replaced.  They all terrorized me so I kept someone around that didn't deserve being towed along for the ride.  That is the funny thing about your fears; when you fear something, you are giving it the power to control your life.  We let these jitters have authority of our dreams and our souls every time we have to make a decision and that, buddy ol' pal, is not the way to live your life.  Sermon over.  Back to the story.

I could not let my life continue the way it was.  So I did what any 20 year old would do-I called my Mommy.  She gave me life lesson #46 (which turned out to be pretty cliche) always follow your heart.  So there I was, in the midst of finals, planning out how to change my whole world.

At the end of the week, when finals were over, I drove my suitcase filled car to his house.  Marched up those stairs and let him know I couldn't do it anymore.  I think that was the first time in two and a half years that he could not read my mind.  For some reason though, my words did not seem to rattle him.  He either assumed I wouldn't keep my promise this time or, I believe, he knew the path we were on was leading to this.  So, as I marched back down those stairs for the last time, tears filled my eyes.  Tears of relief but also, once again, fear.  I knew my friend group was about shift and my social life was going to have to be adjusted.  As much as I struggle with change, I knew it is necessary for growth and we both deserved that.

I hopped back into my car, and started my drive home for winter break.  Clear head and clear eyes (full hearts? anyone?).  Life was going to be okay.  It was going to be more than okay.  I turned up my Taylor Swift and did not look in my rear-view mirror once on my five hour drive home.  Figuratively, of course.

MY HOME TEAM

Everyone once in a while, by the stroke of luck, you meet someone that speaks to your soul.  He was speaking to my soul.  Class after class he would interact with my friends and me.  We were acquaintances and for me, that was enough.  All I wanted was for him to notice the insignificant things and he did.  He asked where I was when I missed a class and he teased me in the best way when I showed up in a neck brace (casual, I know).

I was never disappointed when the professor told us to work in groups because I knew it was my chance for us to become a team.  A team I so longed to be a part of.  I wanted him to be my home team.  My go to.  Someone who cheered me on when I scored and took a knee when I was hurting.  It was going to take everything in me but I was going to make him my teammate.

I couldn't just ask him to be my so called teammate because well duh, that is just not the way things worked in this day in age.  For starters, we would both have to be single because there is no other option. Once that was formally taken care of, we would have to exchange numbers? Go on a date? Get us jerseys? (kidding.) How does this all work?  I had no idea and he had no idea I was going to try to make this all happen but how could I not - he was perfect.

For now, I guess I was going to have to sit back, find some patience, and let life play out itself, something I have never been good at.

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.