Dear Audrey, June, and Rita...

"Audrey, I won't live another year without you", are the words he uttered from his mouth. The man was so desperate for your love when it came down to losing you that he honestly could not fathom that he could survive 365 more days without you by his side. Yet, when he had your love all to himself, the booze and the pills and the warmth of other women lured him away every time.

Audrey, how do you love a man like that?

 

 

 

When he crawled deep in to Nickajack Cave and had no intention of ever coming out... When Johnny would pass out before shows, after shows... and fall down in a drunken stupor during shows... When you watched him kill himself slowly for years and put up with the outbursts and insanity... Tell me, June- what made you decide that you could love that man through it all?

June, how do you save a man like that?

 

 

 

 

He finally put that bottle down just as you had asked him to for years. Of course, by the time he did that, you had no idea who sober Kris was. You were living with a stranger and it was confusing because- it's what you wanted, right? You wanted his eyes more clear... you received exactly what you had wished and hoped for. But it wasn't at all what you had hoped for. You knew things would never be the same even though you loved him with your whole heart.

 

You have to tell me, Rita- how do you let go of a man like that?

 

 



 

If I could sit these three down, I know they'd understand. They could tell me what to do. I'm no Audrey or June or Rita. I'm not as strong. Not nearly as sturdy. But maybe if I had spoken to Audrey, she could have told me what not to do. If I could have lunch with June, she could have helped me to be more firm and pointed me down the path of what I should do. And to sit down with Rita and have her tell me where to go from here- how to rebuild with dignity and still love that man, but maintain the ability to just walk away- I think that's what I could use more than anything.

"Like a bird on a wire

Like a drunk midnight choir

I have tried in my way to be free."

 



Praising Him in the storm/ I will wait

If you know me well, you know that I used to attend church camp during the summer. Honeycreek QUICKLY became my favorite place on Earth, and it's still a place that I hold very close to my heart. It's where I first really came to know God. I had been in church my entire life, but that 15th summer of my life was a big one. However, this post in particular will not be about my love for "the creek".... just about how certain things just stick with us and we pull from them when we need to.

I'm in a bad place in my life right now. A really, really dark, negative place. I'm the happy girl. The funny girl. I'm not allowed to be depressed. I'm not supposed to have the thoughts that I've had lately. I think the persona that I've created for myself (quite possibly as a defense mechanism to keep people from getting too close) makes being "down" even more difficult because people just don't expect that out of me. I'm expected to always be "on". To always have a joke. And sometimes (this past week, for example) I just don't have a lot of jokes.

A good friend whom I consider a "life twin" (we've been through so, so many similar things so she just "gets me") sent me the song "Praise You in This Storm" this morning. It was funny, because it's one of my go-to songs when things are going wrong; when the storm comes rolling in.

 

 

But throughout the day, as in so many other times in my life, another song kept coming to mind. And the only other people that I know of who even know this song are other kids who went to Honey Creek. The lyrics cause me to hit my knees every time. The kind of song that I just can't help but be affected by. The kind that puts me in tears and makes me look deep inside myself.  They're such simple lyrics, but the message is essentially the same- praising Him in the storm, waiting on the Lord. So I sing it over and over... and maybe this blog post is just for me. There's something so therapeutic for me about the rhythm of the keyboard clicking beneath my fingers. Almost like a song... the keyboard is my instrument. This is my song. (I'm not a great song writer. I ramble.) But maybe no one else needs this like I do right now. And, even if no one else reads this post, I had to write it.

 

So. The lyrics. The song.

 





As the years of my life pass me by, pass me by

I will wait, I will wait on the Lord.

 

When the day turns to night and I pray to see the light

I will wait, I will wait on the Lord.

 

Through the calm, through the fears. Through the laughter and the tears

I will wait, I will wait on the Lord.

 

Feeling sure or laced with doubt, Going with or without

I will wait, I will wait on the Lord

 

For as long as I am living

Just as sure as time goes on

On and on

I'm holdin' on....

 

I'm holdin' on.....

I know. It's simple. I told you it was. But there's something about that song that just hits me deep.

I know that I'll get through this. I know that it's one of those things where I'm gonna come out of this thing with some seriously bruised knees from hitting them so hard in prayer. But, I WILL come out of this. I don't know how. And at this particular moment, I don't see a silver lining, I don't see a light at the end of the tunnel... but I have faith that it's there. And as Christians, isn't that the foundation of everything we believe in? Faith? Well- when faith is the only thing you have left, it sure helps to lean on it. Maybe that's God's plan all along. To give me no choice but to lean on Him.

He's a smart man, that God.

Engagement Chicken

I have been on both sides of the engagement fence. I've been in a relationship with a man for more than 4 years who swore that he would spend the rest of his life with me, but would never marry me. (he did, eventually... and we were divorced before our second wedding anniversary) I've also been dating someone for a month when he popped the question (ring and all) and I said "yes" because I felt like I had to (oh, the pressure!).... within another month, that relationship was also over. I've gone on dates with guys who have ZERO interest in marriage, and I've also dated men who seem to obsess over it more than women. One guy (affectionately referred to in my favorite circle of friends as "Stalker Barry") actually wrote me an 8 page letter telling me how his "biological clock is ticking". We were around 23 at the time. We had gone on just a handful of dates. I ran.

So now I'm dating a guy. A pretty awesome guy. People call it a long-distance relationship, but I swear I spend more time at his house than my own, and we see each other usually Friday night through Monday morning, so we get our fill of each other, no doubt. It's only hard usually Thursday night. Because by the time I've been away from him for a few days, I start to miss him. I miss my buddy. But that "missing him" is healthy. It's why we work. Because we have the opportunity to miss each other. Marriage is something that, right now, scares the daylights out of me. Not because I don't love this man. I absolutely do. I, honestly, have never been so happy in a relationship. We test each other and challenge each other and make each other grow. We bring out the best in one another and I think that's what it's all about. It has taken THIS long for us to ease the toddler into our relationship (he's the one I'm most concerned about getting attached to someone. The older two have a daddy that they see and that loves them very much. Bray has Mama. That's it.), but now that the almost 30 year old and the almost 4 year old have spent time with each other, they're getting closer than I imagined. They have a genuine bond and love each other. So, yeah... that makes me think "family" and wonder if there's some sort of permanence here.... but I know that if it's supposed to happen, it will. When we're both ready. It could be 3 months from now (it will not be 3 months from now), it could be 3 years from now. But, we're both happy. And there is no immediate need for either of us to rush into anything.

And then I get on Pinterest. His mother and I are planning this big 30th birthday extravaganza for him and I want it to be amazing. And I see this pin (don't act like you women don't know what I'm talking about) for Engagement Chicken. The story goes, you make this "succulent, juicy chicken" (albeit bland, according to reviews) for your significant other and within weeks, you will have a ring on your finger. Some call it "magic". (Magic... VooDoo... whatever) One obviously desperate woman stated that she had been dating her man for 2 weeks when she made this chicken "just to see what would happen" and that night he said "I love you" for the first time, 6 weeks later he asked her to move in with him, and within 6 months they were engaged. They were to celebrate their first wedding anniversary the week after she posted her comment. Well, congratu-frickin-lations. You two weirdos should be very happy together. I know, that sounds a lot like judgement... and that's because it is. Look- I already acknowledged that I accepted a proposal from a guy who popped the question 4 weeks into dating. But I didn't marry the guy. (that doesn't make it okay... it's just what I tell myself to make ME feel like less of a bad person... if I felt like a bad person at all. which I don't. Because we had no business getting married. Period. I just don't like pressure.) But I can assure you, I don't need a voodoo chicken to get a guy to want to marry me!!! (remember- Stalker Barry?!)

Some argue that the reason that this Engagement Chicken (and the subsequent Hook-Him Apple Pie) works is because it shows your man that you care. You're taking the time to make the man a chicken. Just like Mama would have done. Let me tell you what I do to show the Sir that I care. I clean his apartment. I do his laundry. I pick up his dry cleaning. I make him laugh. I don't get bent out of shape over stupid little things (most of the time). I treat him the way that he deserves to be treated every single day. Not when I decide that I deserve (or just plain want) a ring. I don't cook dinner for him and expect ANYTHING from it other than a satisfied, full man. IF the Sir and I tie the knot (3 months or 3 years from now) PUH-LEEEEEZE rest assured that it's because I am awesome and I picked an equally awesome man, and not due to the consumption of a lemon-stuffed marry me chicken.

Besides, if I really wanted to make that man of mine happy, I'd throw a Stauffer's lasagna in the oven. Dat baby loves him a frozen lasagna. ;)




P.S. If you're intrigued, you can find the Engagement Chicken recipe here:
http://www.glamour.com/magazine/2006/07/engagement-chicken
and the Hook Him Apple Pie here:
http://www.glamour.com/magazine/2006/07/hook-him-apple-pie
(if the pie didn't have such a horrible name, I might have made it.... I do love an apple pie. Way to ruin it, wedding-hungry bias)

And if you make either of them, I still wanna know if it worked for you. If it took 17 weeks for him to propose- it wasn't the chicken. Geniuses.

guilt.

for Lent I wanted to give up guilt. it's something that i think we all deal with on a daily basis. guilt for not being a good enough friend. guilt for my children being from a broken home. guilt for maybe not handling certain things the way i should have in the past. but i'm trying to let go. i'm trying to just accept that things are what they are and even if things are my fault (and a lot of them are) just moving forward and not harboring on the coulda/shoulda/wouldas.

but there's one thing that i just can't let go of. and it's something that i've never told anyone. it's something that not even my best friends in this world knows and it breaks me down on a regular basis. i guess i just feel like i have to write about it. i don't want to TALK about it, because if i do i'll just cry. hell, i've been bawling for hours now over it and can barely see to type. but i don't let a lot of people see me like this. i just don't. regardless, here it goes.

Nana had COPD. her lungs were hardened and it was difficult for her to breathe. i knew that. i had known for a long time. i didn't know exactly how bad it was, but i knew that she used a breathing machine at night. she just wasn't one to tell a whole lot about her problems. i think she told me and my aunt jackie faye more than she told anyone, and even i didn't know just how bad things were. i think part of it, too, was me not wanting to know. we had an agreement that she would live to be 103... then when i became afraid that i would still not be ready to go by the time she turned 103, i decided that she had to live until i was 103. if i didn't know how bad it was, i couldn't acknowledge that losing her was such a real possibility. honestly, i swear, i always thought we would go together.that's what i wanted. i have never needed a person in this world the way that i need her, and i could not imagine that there would ever come a day that she would cease to exist and i would be left here.

but she was fine. christmas came and she was fine. we did the usual riding around looking at christmas lights together and driving down jerry jones to see the peanuts gang in front of that house with snoopy on the roof.... she was fine. then braydon got sick. typical december in south georgia stuff. the weather changed so much that his little immune system was no match for it. he was coughing terribly. i took him to his pediatrician and was giving him medicine, but i had also just moved into my apartment a couple of weeks before. i still had so much unpacking to do and i was now living across the street from Nana (walking distance!!) so she came over every single morning to get him in his stroller and take him to her house for the day so I could get things done. but he was sick. i knew he was sick. and i knew that Nana wasn't well. i knew about the COPD. i knew. and i was selfish because i just wanted to get the house unpacked. i let her take him knowing that he could make her sick. i didn't think about it like that at the time, but i had to know it in the back of my mind. there's no way i didn't. but, in typical selfish kayla fashion, i did what was best for me. i thought about myself. within days Nana was sick. January 1st she couldn't come over for black eye peas and ham and collards. i cooked and took them to her. but she wasn't feeling up to coming over. the next day was her birthday. i told her i would bake her a cake as soon as she felt up to eating it. the day after that, she was in the hospital. she was going to be fine. she was only 73. 73 and a day. i made the decision to let them intubate her, because that was supposed to let her lungs rest so her body could heal. so she could come home. i told them to go ahead and do it and i would be on my way back up to the hospital. i had been getting ready for church because she told me the night before to go ahead and go without her. i told her we would all be praying for her. i should have told them to wait. i should have told them that they could do it after i got there. but they said that she had a really rough night the night before and i just wanted to let her rest. i thought i was doing the right thing. they put her to sleep and put the tube in and she never woke back up. she knew i was there because her heart rate would go up every time she heard my voice. once, when i told her i was leaving, she started moving and her heart rate shot up dramatically. i stayed. i cried and i told her that if she had to go, it was okay. i told her that i would be okay. i lied. i made her sick. i let my baby go over there, knowing he was sick and knowing that it could potentially make her sick. i didn't know it was going to do all of that. i didn't think for a second that it would kill her. all my life, she took care of me. i was her favorite person in this world. i know that. i was the reason for almost every thing that she did for close to 30 years. she loved me like no one on this earth ever has or ever will again. and i let her get sick. i let them put her to sleep without telling her goodbye. but i didn't know she wasn't going to wake back up. i thought it would just be a few days and she would be coming home. the last thing i said to her before i left for the night, the saturday night before they intubated her was "you know that i love you more than anything else in this world, right?" and she said "i know". i know that she knew that. but i was always so selfish. and if i hadn't been, she would still be here.

and today is just one of those days that i absolutely hate myself because i'm scared and i feel alone and i just need her, and she's not here and it's my fault. but even me needing her like this is selfish. i just can't make this guilt go away.

2 a.m. thoughts

it's so far past my bedtime... and so close to my wake up time that i'm truly considering just staying up until i get the big kids on the bus... then locking bray in the room with me and making him snuggle all day tomorrow while i take a nap then do some more editing. that's part of the reason why i'm up so late... work. editing. it's a blessing and a curse. i love that i get to stay at home with my baby, but it's also a bit aggravating at times that i don't get "off" like most people do. (and heaven knows my brain doesn't go into "off" mode... what's that like, i wonder....) but my work schedule isn't exactly the conundrum i was referring to. no... so "crazy white girl" of me, but my thoughts are those of love... lust... relationships... or the lack thereof.  i feel so privileged to be allowed the opportunity to capture love between couples on their wedding day... to photograph engagement sessions and help create save the dates... i love it. i really do. i love seeing the bride get excited just before time to walk down the aisle... then fighting back the tears as she sees her groom's reaction to her beauty... it's glorious. it really is. and to be a part of that is really something special. i love seeing people in love. then i come home and start working and as i'm editing, i can't help but wonder why it is that no one has ever looked at me like that? or maybe they have and i didn't see it... maybe i was too busy looking at something else (knowing me, it was probably something sparkly... "ooh- that's pretty..." i get easily distracted) i've been acting so tough lately... like i don't care. like i'm done with love and emotion and all of that... but truthfully, it's because it's friggin' scary.
to be completely honest... that long, slow dance with bliss is utterly terrifying to me. don't get me wrong- i meant what i said when i said that i want that. i do. i really do. i want that forever kind of thing. but what if i pick a forever and it's the wrong one (i've already done that!!) and i'm not his forever or he's so emotionally scarred from the last time he thought it was forever that he won't even let me in?? or what if i meet him and it IS right and he is perfect for me and i for him, but the timing is all wrong?? in opening yourself up, you're risking complete misery. you're allowing yourself to be vulnerable to this person who you're allowing the power to destroy what's left of you. if there's love in me left to give (and i do believe that there is so much in there for the right man), i don't want someone to kill that. i don't want them to take what's left and just discard it like last week's trash.
if he could just see me for what i am... this fragile bird who sings this big song like she's the biggest, brightest bird there is, but inside is broken and scared... if he (whoever he is... dear no one) could see that and nurture that part of me and allow me to love him and care for him as well, the heavens above know that i would spare no amount of affection to show this man how i adore him. but, what if he doesn't? (oh, but what if he does!?)
and therein lies the problem. if there is one beautiful thing in this world- it is love. if there is one thing left that is holy and whole and still holds the ability to be pure and eternal- i believe with all that is in me- that thing is love. but, dear God, if there is one thing terribly horrific and utterly terrifying in it- that, too, would be love. loving something with your entirety, all the while knowing that it could vanish within a split second.

scary.

dear no one....

lately i've been forced to think about what i want. what i truly want. i say that i don't want a relationship. that i don't need a man. that "ain't nobody got time for that". and, i mean, that's all true to some extent. i am a single mother of 3 small children. (harley would give me "the look" if she knew i referred to her as a "small child"... her hormones scare me.) i run a growing business. i like independence. i like not having to answer to anyone. i feel, sometimes, like the eternal 3rd or 5th wheel. it doesn't always bother me.... except for when it does.

see. i joke a lot. i'm funny. i act like things don't get to me. but they do. sometimes things really get to me.

"sometimes, i just want somebody to hold. someone to give me their jacket when it's cold... got that young love feeling when we're old.
sometimes, i want someone to grab my hand. pick me up, pull me close, be my man... i will love you til the end"

that's Dear No One by Tori Kelly. (it's kind of my favorite song right now)

so here's the deal. i want someone to cook bacon and pancakes for. i want someone to like me. like GENUINELY like me. someone who could stay up at night just laughing at me and with me. i want someone who wants to hold me close. i want someone who looks at me and feels like he must have done something right at some point in his life to have ended up with me. i want someone to feel lucky to be with me. (even though i will know that i'm the lucky one) i want someone with a past just as screwed up as mine. i want someone who has been hurt, because they know what it feels like and i feel like damaged people are less inclined to inflict pain on others. but, at the same time....it's scary, isn't it? because if you let someone in, you run the risk of them hurting you the way that others have in the past. and who wants to get hurt?? i know that if you don't risk it, you'll never know. i do know that. but what if it doesn't work?? what if you give this person everything that you have emotionally and they say "no thanks"? what if you're not enough? that hurts.

because eventually he'll find out everything.
my middle name.
my birthday. my sign.
where i was born. where i want to grow old.
how old i was when i learned to ride a bike. who gave me that bike. who taught me to ride it. how absolutely terrified i was when we had to take off the training wheels.
he'll learn how old i was when each grandparent passed away and what it did to me.
how much i hated missing a day of school because i was afraid i would miss out on something.
he'll know that my eyes are the exact color of milk chocolate, what every scar is from, and where my birthmark is.
he'll know my favorite books, movies, candy, food, color, and song...
he'll learn that i will never part with my yellow tens no matter how old and grungy they get.
eventually he will know how hard it is for me to fall asleep at night because my brain just won't shut off and he'll see firsthand that when i wake up at 3 a.m. it's almost impossible for me to go back to sleep.
he's going to know all about the first time i had to attend a funeral for a friend; a life taken way too soon.
he'll find out my fears, my wishes, my worries, my constantly growing bucket list...
at some point he's going to see that i tend to live in my own dream world where anything is possible.
one night, he's going to wake up and i'll be sobbing as quietly as possible into my pillow to try to keep from waking him... and i won't even have to say anything. he'll know why.
he'll know all about my first heartbreak, my dream wedding, my problems with my parents and why my brother and i no longer speak.
he will have heard all about ellie and nana and know that those losses affected my life more than any i can imagine.
this poor, sweet man will know all about my strengths, weaknesses, unsurpassed laziness yet boundless energy, and my mixed emotions.
he'll know about my love for mayonnaise , my dream of being famous when i was 5 (who am i kidding... i still daydream about it...), my need to quote bridesmaids word for word all the way through...
he'll know that i'm terrified of growing old alone, but that i'm also so terribly afraid of loving someone so deeply then not being afforded the opportunity to grow old with them.
he'll know my bad habits.
my mannerisms.
all of my facial expressions... including my pout.
this man will know my laugh like it's his favorite song.
he will have learned the way i chew, drink, walk, sleep, fidget when i'm nervous, and kiss.
he will know that i laugh to keep from crying and that a lot of the time, it's simply a defense mechanism to keep people from getting too close.
eventually he will learn that i have spent more hours than i will care to admit picking out wedding flowers.
tiles for the bathroom.
paint color for the bedroom walls.
bridesmaid dresses.
he will know that i leave my clothes everywhere... and it will annoy him to no end. but he will eventually just accept that as a part of me.
he will learn that it takes me 15 minutes to order at Starbucks because i can't just order something simple.
he'll know that i organize my dvds according to which ones i like the most and watch most often, and that i check my horoscope almost daily... just in case.
he will know my order for chik-fil-a, and that i need taco bell at least weekly.
this man will know that, for whatever reason, i like my sandwiches cut into triangles and that they don't seem to fill me up if they're cut into 4 squares.
he will be able to tell that i have to pee just by the look on my face, and he'll see when i'm crying- even if i'm not shedding any tears.

he will know ALL of it. top to bottom. inside out. every little thing.

so what if i LET him and it's not enough? what if he learns all of that and just decides that the idea of kayla was more appealing than the actual person.

then what?

Dear Broken Hearted,

You're hurting. I get that. You've known him for so long... it seemed so right... how could it be over? Or maybe you just met her... even though it seemed like the two of you had been together forever... and now she's gone. How did that happen?? How did you get to this point where this person that, for a moment, had become your everything is now suddenly nothing? Maybe it was a big fall out... something happened. A lie. A fight. An infidelity. Or maybe it was little things that were adding up all along that you didn't see until you looked up and realized that they were done. They were already gone even though they were right in front of you. Or maybe it was neither of those. Maybe it was just a simple case of incompatibility. It doesn't matter. I mean, obviously, it matters. If it didn't matter you wouldn't be hurting. And you are. You feel like someone kicked you in the stomach. Like you want to throw up.
I'm not here to tell you that it's going to be okay (even though it will). I'm not going to fill you with tales of my own heartbreaks (they are too numerous to count). I'm not going to tell you that there are plenty of fish in the sea and that this one will someday just be a memory...  I mean, all of that is true; yes. But, I also know firsthand (and all too recently) that love doesn't care. It doesn't care that there are other men. It doesn't care that you should be over it because she obviously doesn't deserve someone who will give her everything that you would have. Love does not understand that someday you will wake up and just be okay. Because, honestly, you don't want to be okay. You just want him. You just want her. Despite *knowing* what is best for you... I think Collin Raye said it best when he said "It ain't the mind that calls the shots 'round here..." It's not. The heart wants what the heart wants. And right now your heart wants what's not necessarily good for it. It's a vicious cycle, really. Once you start thinking you're okay, something happens... they come back or reach out, or something reminds you of them... and you fall back into first this unrelenting hope. It just won't let go. You can't not think that maybe this time it will be different... and then, when it's not different at all, the pain. God, the pain. No, I'm not going to tell you to be strong. You don't have to be. I'm here to tell you that not only is what you're feeling a completely valid emotion... it's NECESSARY. You need to feel what you're feeling now and experience it in it's entirety in order to be okay. "Hide your crazy and start acting like a Lady?" No thanks. Let your crazy out if you have to. Do whatever it is that you have to do to feel better. You need to hurt like this. You need to feel it in every fiber of your being. You need to sob until your chest hurts and your eyes burn. You need to just experience it all. Because once you're over it, you'll know that you're truly over it. You will know that there are no left over emotions waiting to sneak up on you. You will be happy to move on.... or to be single. But the most important thing is- you'll be happy. And when someone shows you a picture on Facebook of him with his new girl, you can actually be happy for him. You can think about the happy memories without dwelling on them; without hurting. When someone tells you that she's with someone new, you can genuinely think to yourself "I hope he treats her right" without wishing that you could still be that someone.
And, let me tell you from experience, that makes it so worth just succumbing to the pain.