Even still, He is good.

When my third grade teacher, Mrs. Gazavi, handed our class mini journals and told us we had to write daily in them about our comings and goings, I am certain some kids grumbled. I, on the other hand, didn't know I was about to fall in love with something that would allow me to express myself and also memory-keep for years to come.

What started in third grade became writing in paper journals into early adulthood, but at the age of 12, I began online journaling. At one point in high school, I had dreams of moving to NYC and becoming a writer of some kind. I took extra writing classes and loved learning and developing well into my 20s. When Jarrod and I got married and he deployed, I went public with my blog, documenting being a newlywed with a deployed husband to keep family and friends updated. I found a deep community in the "blogosphere" with friendships I still have today. This continued through my early 30s. I kept journals in some form until pretty much the last post you see here on this blog, roughly 5 years ago. Now, Instagram seems to be the sole source of sharing for many of us, and my community support has been great as I have navigated the past two months...but sometimes you need the space to really write.

I share this because, while many of my "online friends" and family know this, I feel my life and community have shifted these past few years, and of course, I have not been active here in this space in particular for quite some time.

But for me, something like loss has a way of bringing it back.

My last post was our first dog loss. My heart broke when we said goodbye to Zia. Months later, we said goodbye to our second dog, and it wasn’t much easier. Pets become family.  

With tears in my eyes, I can tell you now, as much as that hurt, this (unsurprisingly) doesn't compare.

On January 19th, my brother Jon met Jesus face to face at the too young age of 46.

Whew.

He passed at 2:21am, and that night at 9:48pm I laid in bed and felt the urge to open my notes app and write a poem. I hadn't felt that in easily 20 years. I won't share my poem here, but this morning when I woke up, I knew I wanted to type out what was on my heart and mind, even if only for my own cathartic reasoning.

No one can prepare you for a loss this great. When I was young--less than 10--my neighbor, Lexie, passed away. She was only a toddler, and she was hit by a truck going too fast on our narrow city street. I remember vividly the sadness I felt, her funeral, and the days that followed. In 2016, my cousin Nate passed away. I brought a 5-week-old baby Tenley along at the time, and as I went to visit him in the ICU, he looked at me as I stood with my oldest brother Jeremy in his room, but he wasn't fully there, and he couldn't speak. My heart broke, and for weeks, it felt haunting that my family was hurting so much, and dare I say it, unfair that he had gone so young.

Even still, not like this.

I can tell you Jon was the life of the party. I can tell you no one will ever make me laugh like him. No one will ever be as funny as Jon was in the way that he was. People who knew him well? They know this, too. He was witty. He was quick. He said what people were thinking but wouldn't say, and sometimes, what he was thinking and shouldn't say...but we loved it about him just the same. On a daily basis, my phone would buzz with Instagram reels or Facebook videos he sent me. Many were dark-humored. Some of our exchanges were 80s and 90s music that slapped. Some were political. Down to his last weeks, he'd sent me a video my niece Maranda sent him of an amputee taking a "foot bath" in WD40. We laughed. I don't know if that's appropriate, but as he himself was recently an amputee, and knowing my brother...it seemed on par. Plus, he's the one who sent it to me, so it's not my fault. ;)

Over the years, Jon endured a lot of hardship of various kinds. The important thing is, he pressed on. And one thing worth noting is the way he loved his children, and most recently, his grandson. Family was always a priority.

My dad will tell you Jon always wanted to be an Army man. My brothers would often play Army out back. When Jon was in cub scouts, he was proud to wear that uniform, my mom says. When he joined the real Army in 2006, he did it ready to serve. He loved his country more than just about anyone I know, and I do not say that lightly. There was much he didn't agree with, but as a whole, he wanted this to be a better place, and he wanted to be a part of it. And part of it he was. Deploying once, he came home to the birth of his son, and shortly after, got out after completing his contract.

Aside from loving his country, he loved music -- especially Metallica. He had many guitars, and enjoyed playing them (and playing them well). While he was in between moves, we stored some of his guitars here at our house, and Ethan picked them up. There was one he took a liking to, and one day, told me he was learning how to play the guitar via YouTube. He proceeded to play almost, if not, daily, and one day approached me with, "Listen to this. See if you know it." It was part of "To Live is to Die" by Metallica. I asked if I could record him playing, and instantly sent it to my brothers. Jon's response was amazement. Jeremy called me moments after, "I'm at work, but had to step outside to call you right away. That's amazing that he can do that. I can't even do that." Later that night, Jon texted me, telling me to tell Ethan he could keep the guitar; it made him smile to see it being used. Ethan texted him that night saying thank you, and Jon was just elated to see him loving what he also loved. He saw talent in him.

The last two months of his life were difficult. A rollercoaster, for sure. Medical professionals would give our family threads of hope some days, and gut punches the very next. Our visits with Jon varied from his and our own tears hearing him groan in physical pain to happy visits where he joked and had us laughing as we were very familiar with and happy to experience given the circumstances otherwise. 

The last time I visited with Jon was January 4th. Despite grumblings over recent weeks from my kids not wanting to make the hour drive, I'm very happy they did most times. January 4th was one of them. We walked into Jon's room (one of many he had been at over the previous weeks), and he looked just like Jon. Not in pain. Smiling. Dare I say, happy. I noted immediately that they had given him a haircut. "You got a haircut! You look great!" His beard likely hadn't been trimmed, but that certainly didn't matter. It looked good. He looked good--the best since November. 

Gabe had recently bought a 3D printer with his Christmas money, and he brought a bag of goodies along that he'd been testing out. Jon was impressed. He stated wanting one for himself. Tenley, meanwhile, was showing off her cursive writing she'd been working on, to which Jon ended up scribbling his signature in her little notebook -- now something she'll cherish more than she realized at the time. She'd given him handmade cards and notes and coloring pages over those weeks in the hospital, and he always requested a hug from her and told her he loved her. A time or two, I noted tears in his eyes. Ethan shared the fun he'd been having at a friend's farm a few times recently. Jon worked with heavy machinery much of his life in paving and in a quarry, and had told us he looked forward to getting back to it, even with one less leg. "Most machines are run with your hands, anyway." Ethan nodded. He knew what he meant, and when they spoke about these big machines, my then almost-15-year-old and my brother, it's like they bonded on a new level of man-to-man I'd never seen before. Big guys talking big machines.

We left with hugs and fist bumps and a, "Love you, sister." "Love you, too."

He couldn't wait to leave that place. He couldn't wait to get back to work. He couldn't wait to fix up his house he had been working on. He had plans. But ultimately, we know that:

"For my thoughts are not your thoughts,

neither are your ways my ways,"

declares the Lord.

"As the heavens are higher than the earth,

so are my ways higher than your ways

and my thoughts than your thoughts."

-Isaiah 55:8-9

I am not mad at God. In my questioning and my hurting, I do not question His character or His timing. I do not question His plans. I know they are good, even when they do not feel good. I smile and am slightly jealous that, instead, my brother is in the presence of Jesus. His body is whole. It is without pain and suffering. That alone gives me peace that cannot be explained. 

But on this side of Heaven, our hearts understandably ache deeply. Our memories live in photos and videos. Our hearts may have a gaping hole that cannot be filled, but we look forward to the day we will see him again, because that's what is promised, and we believe it.

Life, in some ways, will never be the same. But what a blessing...what a blessing it is to be able to say that was my big brother, and I got to experience life with him for as long as I did. Thank you, God. Even still, He is good.

Goodbye, my Zia girl.

Well, this isn't the next news I planned to share here, but here we are. 

We lost our Zia girl yesterday at 11 years old. Since December, she's been limping slightly. Late January, she was hardly putting weight on her front leg at all. We took her to two vets. Both agreed it was likely a tumor somewhere (her shoulder was very swollen, so, likely there). Within days into the start of February, her leg began swelling...the whole thing. At times, Jarrod lifted her up and down stairs. She was refusing her dry dog food, and was on pain meds twice a day. We knew the time was coming, but weren't sure when. Yesterday she let us know it was time. Jarrod and I took her and held her while her pain left her body.

Cooking dinner last night, I lost it when she wasn’t there at my feet. She was always at my feet or at the rug at the kitchen sink. When she would try to get in to the cat food, I would come out and say, “It’s not for you.” She would still try. She would try to get into the trashcan, she loved jumping up on the table to get food, even eat a few pies and cookies and cupcakes off of the counter at times. In the office, her favorite spot was under my desk. She fit there perfectly, and so often, she warmed my feet while I worked. She laid on my side of the bed and warmed it before I came up, and sometimes she would stay between Jarrod and I or at my feet all night long. Always on my side. When Jarrod had movie nights with the kids, she would sleep with me in bed right across where Jarrod’s pillow would be. When I showered, she laid on the bath rug and waited for me. In the mornings when I got ready, there she was. If the kids weren’t awake yet, she laid outside their doors and waited for them to come downstairs. She followed us as we homeschooled this past year for the first time. She loved her little humans so much. When in our backyard, she would race the neighboring Labs across the whole fence. Yesterday, our neighbor messaged me and told me his dog wanted to be out by the fence all day, and they didn’t know why. He was waiting for his friend Zia, and she never came. 

We miss you already, our sweet girl. Our lives will never be the same.

12/23/09-2/15/21

Always waiting outside the kids' rooms for them to wake up in the morning.

A few nights ago with her buddy, Samson.

About an hour before we took her. :(

One of her favorite places...and ours. :) The Outer Banks.

ER Visits and Social Media Detoxes

Hi! Happy 2021. This is my first official post of the new year, so Happy New Year officially! I hope your year is starting off well wherever you are. 

I am currently on a little social media detox, and I promised I would update here when I can. Last Friday I decided it was just time for a break. It's embarrassing the amount of time I spend on my phone on a daily basis. Not entirely on social media, but especially on social media. I sneak onto Instagram to check @sharonsaysso, occasionally one or two of my favorite homeschool accounts, and I'm right back off. 

I have snoozed, muted, unfollowed and unfriended so much this past year. I know I'm not the only one. Last week after the events at The Capitol, I felt overwhelmingly sad; sad for our country, sad for our world. Saying so on Facebook bought me one rude comment from someone who otherwise doesn't bother with me on a normal basis. While it was unsurprising and completely in character for him, it further saddened me that on a day when our country was in shock, mad, just feeling all of the feels...me mentioning sadness brought out hate in someone else's heart. Just how can that be?! 

As the days went on, I grew even more tired of all of the opinions and thoughts, but I also grew tired of the effect it was having on me because I was allowing it to. Friends, we consume so much we just aren't meant to. We are not meant to take in all of this information at such rapid speed...to take in all of these thoughts and opinions, all of this news (TRAGIC, depressing news lately) in such great capacity on a daily, hourly, minute-by-minute basis. Signing off was what was best for me, and that was clear. Since disconnecting, I have felt much more peace and calm, and I've had more patience with the little people in my home who deserve the best of me, not what's left of me. I think we can all do better in so many ways. 

In other news! I visited the ER today, so there's that. *facepalm* A certain child decided to swallow a button battery, which prompted a call to Poison Control, prompting a very quick trip to drop the other two kids off at a friend's house and jet to the hospital. After an x-ray, we learned the battery had thankfully already passed the stomach, and so we are on "wait and watch" rules. If it isn't passed in two days, back to the ER we go.  I mean, if there ever was a "to be continued..." to 2020, this would be it. This would be the continuation right here, inspecting poop for a tiny battery (!) in your child's stool.

It has been a bit of a bumpy week with school so far. We are, coincidentally, learning about the French & Indian War and revolutions. The boys love history. We started a new read-aloud book called Toliver's Secret this morning. We were all enjoying it so much, I only meant to read the first chapter but just kept reading. Here in these little slowed down moments is where the sweet treasures of life are found, I believe. I am immersing myself in all of the homeschool books lately (especially highlighting and underlining all the things in this book), and I feel so inspired to potentially keep us on this track of learning at home. We all are enjoying homeschooling so much more than I knew we could. It is truly one of the blessings 2020 brought us.

A goal of mine for this year is to read more books myself, too. I enjoy reading, but I will for sure choose watching TV at night after everyone goes to bed over picking up a book. The first book I've started of 2021 is Peace: Hope and Healing for the Anxious Momma's Heart by Becky Thompson. It's pretty good so far. If you tend towards anxiety more often than you'd like especially, I think you'll find some comfort in Becky's words.

Other than reading, we have been doing puzzles lately, coloring a lot, and the kids have been making lots of Perler bead creations. We are more than ready for some warmer weather, but since that won't be here any time soon, we are doing what we can to stay busy inside and darting outside at every chance when the sun is out and it's above 40 degrees.

I have a few ideas of things I want to share coming up, but I won't make you any promises on when that will be. A few months ago on Instagram I asked if anyone wanted to know more about Thrive Market and my favorite products. I had a lot of feedback, so I thought I'd compile a list and get that up here on the blog soon. I'll work on that. I have a few other ideas, too. We'll see how motivated I am. :)

Stay safe & well!

So long, 2020.

 

Well, here we are. Another year has come to a close; a year that many people are thrilled to see leave, for reasons I understand, but I can't fully relate. Maybe because I can be a homebody and didn’t mind staying home. ;) 

While the year certainly had its downsides, I tend to be an optimist with most things in life (ask my pessimistic husband), and so I can't help but see the good things that came from 2020. The time spent together, the relationships that needed some tweaking, focusing on the important things, good conversations...at times, hard conversations. Overall, doing more together. It was good. Do I miss some of my people? Definitely. But did I spend the year with the people who matter the most to me? Also definitely.

I'm a goal setter - that isn’t new news if you’ve been here for a while. I love my Powersheets, a new year, new month, new week, new day. I am always looking for ways to improve (as much as I don't handle criticism well at times - harsh truth). I'm always looking for the good. I'm excited and hopeful for 2021. Not because I think it's a year we will see drastic changes where they matter in terms of politics, our country, our world...as much as it pains me to admit that. But because it is what we make it, and I have every good intention to make it the best it can be.

We can only go up from here, friends. Happy early 2021 to you!

Sometimes you just have to dig a little.

 

Hi! *waves*

Happy Sunday. I'm sitting under a blanket on the couch. Tenley's watching some kids' Christmas movie with a cartoon version of Mariah Carey, Jarrod is with the boys at the gun range, and I'm relaxing. I thought I'd pop in here and give a little update.

I'm really tired today. I went to bed pretty late last night, so I'm sure that's why, but Jarrod just got over what we think was COVID (He tested negative twice, but so many symptoms aligned.), and so I'm kind of holding my breath and hoping my newfound exhaustion isn't anything more than the dreary weather and lack of sleep. Nowadays, it's not enough to just be tired or just have a slight cough/sneeze/tickle in your throat...amen? Could be anything, but COULD BE COVID. 

The world continues to be so weird. Since I last blogged, of course, Election Day came and passed...still without a real result. The internet is ablaze with opinions and mean words and friendships and relationships falling apart, and let's be honest -- it can be a sad place to be. Yet, I can't peel away. I want to know things, and I want to connect with people, but sometimes it feels like digging through piles and piles of trash to find the good stuff. I myself have tried to stay away from talks of politics and even COVID, only because I feel we've lost the art of communication. Real, authentic communication. Now we sit behind our phones or computers and "comment," but we aren't really seeing faces. And if we were seeing faces, would our responses be gentler? Would we not be so bold or judgmental? Would we listen more and talk less? Would we not be so quick to unfriend or unfollow? I can't help but wonder.

(This got real deep real quick...sorry not sorry.)

Truly, though. Are you finding it hard to step away like I am? I know what's best for me the same way I know it's best for me to eat healthy, get good sleep, and exercise...but that doesn't mean I'm doing it. I know it's best to take breaks from all the opinions and thoughts, from the news, from the chaos...but I also am so curious. Navigating the world right now just seems tricky. And yet, if I step away from it...

It's always so worth it. The fresh air, the sights, the laughter, the curiosity.

Yesterday was a lazy day...kind of. After putting Christmas lights up outside, Jarrod was going to take the kids on a hike, and part of me was looking forward to being home alone. The bigger part of me decided that wasn't a good idea. I needed the fresh air and the exercise more than I needed the couch and some silence. So, we ventured just a few minutes down the road and hiked.

It wasn't much, but it was enough.

Maybe you're like me, and it's hard to peel away. If given the opportunity, my advice is to take it. Take a moment to breathe...preferably outdoors. It's always worth it. In this social media age, I have to remind myself we aren't made for that kind of connection. God didn't create us to have these false senses of relationships. We are "friends" with people we aren't really friends with in real life. If we saw them in person, we may not even say hi or know how to strike up a conversation. There's nothing wrong with being friendly, of course, but the magic is in the real, face-to-face relationships and conversations we have. 

That's where the memories are made. That's where the real conversations are had. Where we can see...hear...touch. Not just type, click, and change the status of our friendships with a quick follow or unfollow.

That's me today. That's what's on my heart. Today my iPhone told me my phone usage was down 16% last week. That's great, but that's probably not enough. I'm going to try to make more of an effort this week.

...and as for Jarrod, he's fine. He did his isolation/quarantine time despite the negative test results. He's still completely without taste or smell, but he's otherwise back to good, and we are SO (SO...SO!) happy to have him back with us.

I hope you're well wherever you are! And because, let's be honest, I won't be posting again before Thanksgiving...I hope you have a happy one with whoever or however you're doing Thanksgiving this year. There is so much to be grateful for among the muck! 

Sometimes you just have to dig a little.