Secretly Teaching My Daughter to Embrace the Messy/ Beautiful in Life

The other day I had a typical proud MOM moment.  Like the many before this one, I stared at my daughter and thought YEP, she’s a genius!  Luckily for me, I usually get brought back down to reality quick enough that I don’t start calling news agencies and boasting that I have the next Spencer Reid from Criminal Minds in the making.  Yes, my daughter is smart, beautiful and creative but she’s probably not a super genius wiz kid. PROBABLY.

But on this morning I was “Momming” around the house… you know cleaning, picking up and organizing… when I picked up her coloring book to put away.  Flipping back to the front, I noticed she had already gone ham on this new book as the pages were starting to fill quickly.  I immediately noticed a castle outline with coloring already in the works… and it was, for a 2 year old girl, AMAZING.  I was stunned at how inside the lines she was and how she had even started a pattern for the colors.  So impressed in fact, that I asked Abasi if it was his work, which thankfully it was not since he’s 36 and I know he’s got a better coloring game than that!  I couldn’t believe it… how could a little girl color so well, so neat and so organized?

I mean, she’s 2… wow, right?

 

And almost before I got through the thought in my head, I felt a sudden urge of panic.

Not an uncontrollable, debilitative panic but a small sensation running up my spine telling me to pay attention to something.  I knew immediately what it was.  The drawing was too neat and clean, too put together for a little girl.  I wanted her to go crazy, be messy, have fun with it, not worry about staying inside the lines too much.

And trust me, I would never say this to her… this stays between us.  I will encourage and applaud her drawings, neat or messy.  But I want to make sure she is embracing all the beauty that comes with being a little crazy, a little messy and a little imperfect.  This wasn’t a ground breaking, life shattering turn of events for Kennedy, she will never be the wiser, but now as her Mama, I have a secret mission: to help her embrace the messy and beautiful parts of life.

It’s along the same lines of cheering and clapping when a baby falls down.  They look immediately to your face to determine if this is something they should cry about, be hurt because of.  If you make a happy-big deal about it, they get excited again and keep on moving.  I want to be like that for every little messy part of Kennedy’s life.  Her biggest cheerleader (ugh, yes I said it) for big or small events that go either as planned or not according to plan.  I want her to know that not being perfect IS PERFECT.  She doesn’t have to get straight A’s, never have braces, win every game or keep every hair in it’s place, as long as she is giving it her all.  She can fall down, get up, go out on a limb, cry, wipe her eyes, take chances, fail and then succeed again because THAT is what it is all about in this crazy/ beautiful life.

Some people will get this, others will not.  That’s ok.  For me, I look at that picture and see how well done it was and know she is already on her way to being amazing.  She’s got it in her and I can’t wait to watch her grow and succeed like I know she will.  But I also know from my own experiences, that it’s not always about drawing inside the lines.  Doing something crazy, taking chances and making mistakes is how we learn and grow.  Some days we will be a perfectly colored castle and other days we will be a Jackson Pollock piece of art… and that is beautiful.

 

To The Friends Who Want Me to Stay Still…

Since leaving for college it seems I have been prisoner to explaining my need to go.  17 years old and leaving to another town, another state, hours away had never felt so right.  I wasn’t leaving them I would explain over and over, but simply leaving.  Moving on to a new place, new faces… not a new me, but a different me.

Over the last 10 years I have moved from my small home town to another state and eventually another country, always farther from “home” but closer to finding me.  It has never been about running or hiding or leaving a bad thing.  I am a traveler at heart, a shaker in my soul.  I need to move, I need to feel the change of a new pathway under my feet and the smell the scent of a new garden in the air.  I need to hear the sounds of a new town waking up in the morning and see the lights of a new city finally dim at night.  The adrenaline of feeling outside of my comfort zone is euphoric.  I need to keep going.

Mountain Views in Guatemala.

 

Anyone who travels know this.  Gets this.  Feels this.  Needs this.

Yet every time, without fail, I am accused of abandoning someone.  Questioned, yelled at, cried to, asked to stay.  But I never can.

To my friends that want me to stay still, I simply say… move.  Get in your car first and drive somewhere, anywhere, different.  Feel the wind on your face and the sun on your arm hanging out the window on your drive to no man’s land.  Jump on a plane or a train or a bus, who cares… just let it take you somewhere different.  Unknown.  Unfamiliar.  Possibly unplanned.

The moments I have impulsively buckled in for a road trip or jumped on a bus to a random town in Spain have been the most freeing moments of my life.  Navigating through Central America with only a paper map, Abasi and a bottle of tequila for courage has been one of my most rewarding experiences.

Navigating… and lost… in Mexico.

 

In every new body of water I stand reflected in, every new language I immerse myself in or every unknown alley I take, I turn towards a better understanding of myself.  A intimacy hard to explain unless you have stood at a literal crossroads and simply pointed in the direction you wanted to go, unaware of the outcome.

Tarifa, Spain

 

Even now… in paradise… I feel myself itching anxiously to move.  To see, to experience, to feel vulnerable again.

To my friends that want me to stay still, know this: I carry our stories on my journeys and weave your spirits into my experiences.  I do not leave you behind, but carry you beside me into every new cafe or bookstore I venture.  I roam because you have strengthened me enough to feel as if I can venture out and always have a home to return to.

And once you go, explore and return, overflowing with new ideas and tales of adventures you will get it.  Feel it.  You will come back with friends’ names you can barely pronounce whom with you’ve had conversations barely understandable between the barriers of language, yet you will feel FULL.  Alive.  You will feel humbled.  Rich.  But most of all you will finally get that every movement I ever took didn’t take me away from you, simply closer to you in another direction.

Just go.  And then you won’t have to ask me why I can’t stay.

Tarifa, Spain.

Skype Call to Poison Control

The other day I laughed at how crazy life is.  Here I am in one stage of parenting, while my other friends were at various stages of theirs- from first steps to actually giving birth at that very moment.  Life is indeed crazy.

What I didn’t know was that just 2 days later, life would show just HOW crazy it can be.  How incredibly fast life can change.  How I could go from having Kennedy dancing on my feet to “Unchained Melody” in one moment and a mere few hours later, Abasi and I would be Skyping the Poison Control Center in the US about a possible toxic overdose for our daughter.  Life is CRAZY.

Kennedy in bed and Abasi and I settling down to eat our dinner, we thought we had won a  free pass to sleep town.  She hadn’t napped during the day, she was easy to put into bed and now she was quiet. Obviously, too quiet.  We heard a bump, looked into the room and saw Kennedy playing in her room, tube of previously almost full Salicylic Acid nearly empty in her hand. Looking around, we quickly saw it rubbed onto the floor, on some toys and in her hair, but with the tube being so empty… twisted as if to get that very last bit of cream out… we were clearly concerned with ingestion.

So we asked, “Kennedy, did you put this in your mouth?”

“Yes, I tasted it.”

“You put it in your mouth?”

“No, I tasted it.”

Well, that did nothing to ease our concern.  Discussing with a two year old the difference between tasting and swallowing, especially when they can tell they MIGHT have done something wrong, gets you absolutely no where.

Fast forward through a blur of googling, Skyping the Poison Control (who were AMAZING), coming to the conclusion that though Salicylic Acid is essentially aspirin (which is why it’s dangerous for children), the amount she could have possibly ingested was PROBABLY not enough to be toxic, washing her and brushing her teeth, I found myself lying in bed with her, waiting for any kind of reaction.  Never before has living so far from a hospital (an hour and change from a not-so-great-one and 4 HOURS from a great one) seemed so scary and suffocating.  She did have 2 slight “symptoms” according to the various sights we read, but all in all seemed energetic and fine.

As she fell asleep, I put her face close to mine and said “I need you forever Kennedy.  You can’t go anywhere.”

Her response?  She put her tiny little hands on either side of my face and said “You’re beautiful Mommy.”

I pretty much just collapsed my face onto hers, needing to be close to her, hating myself for leaving that tube in reach and thanking God for allowing this to not have been as serious as it could have been.

Clearly, I slept with her that night.  Well, more like I laid next to her as she slept, every twitch or cough she had I inspected until I felt sure she was ok.  I woke/ got up at 6am when the sun was coming through the windows, checked her again, kissed her on her forehead and walked to the door to watch her still for another minute or two.

I checked on her another 2 times after that.  Any sound I heard, I jumped out of bed.  The next time I went into see her, she was laying in bed awake and laughing.  Again, I fell into her bed and kissed her.

So many things can and DO happen in the blink of an eye, and this time we got away with it.  I left something in reach and it could have been a lot worse.  I could have made a mistake that I would never forgive myself for.  As I’ve said before, I’m not perfect, but I’ll be damned if I don’t learn from my mistakes and appreciate the things that do go our way.

Clearly, alls well that ends well.  We are back to the normal morning routine of coffee, juice, cartoons and her newest obsession of begging for chocolate. It was a wake up call, but in the end not serious. We were lucky.  We ARE lucky.

Life is crazy.

 

My Little Girl’s Gentle Soul: Nature vs Nurture

To say that my daughter surprises and inspires me daily is an understatement.  The obvious humor Kennedy possesses is nothing compared to the gentle soul that frequently expresses empathy for others.  I have seen my 2 year old care more for other human beings than some grown folk.  By 1 years old she was rubbing the backs of older children who were crying, obvious to their sadness.  As her age progressed, so did her awareness of situations with pain and sadness, leaving her to cry at sad songs in movies… obviously my child with that one.  She just gets it.

Today I stood in awe from the doorway as I watched my tiny little human, the best thing I have ever created, line her animals and dollies up on the bed to sleep, whisper in their ear and kiss them on their heads.  Kennedy beams beautiful from the inside out.  She has grace that I cannot explain and question if I can even take credit for.

Of course there are moments when the terrible twos rage their screaming, belligerent heads.  Moments where she looses all human like qualities and simply flails on the ground like a sea creature out of water.  Oh yes, my darling daughter does that also.  But I feel like those moments only help to show the stark contrast that is her soft and gentle nature.

How did this happen?  Is it simply who she is or a direct result of our obvious award winning and glorious parenting?  Though I obviously kid about the next-to-Godly job I am doing parenting, I do pray that my daughter’s kindness comes at least in part from her interactions with Abasi and I.  “Dear God, please allow Abasi and I to continue being the very best parents we can” is a nightly prayer.  I only want to do the VERY best I possibly can do for her… nothing more, nothing less.

Hopefully it is a combination though.  Hopefully Kennedy’s born nature is working in peaceful unity with the examples she sees not only from Abasi and I, but from her family, friends and surroundings.  The simple nature that is our life here in Costa Rica hopefully lends Kennedy to feeling less of the hustle and bustle stress of an over-stimulated world.  I certainly have moments that are not in my finest hour, when the stress of the day erupts after washing the 100th plate of the day and the dirty dish water splashes up into my face and over on the floor, leaving me howling out the kitchen window like a crazed wolf.  Oh yes, picture it.  These moments I would rather prefer her NOT to note for later use.

The moments like today only inspire me to snip my loose ends and tighten up my game.  Not because I am trying to be perfect and act like I don’t loose my cool or have moments of being incredibly overwhelmed.  I want to simply mirror the beauty that I see in my daughter.  If she can learn from my nurture, then why can I not learn from hers?

And if this is the result- this small, beautiful, bundle of empathy, humor and grace than I am humbled, truly humbled, to be her mother, her teacher and her student.

Kindness of a Stranger, Strength of Yourself

Yesterday got off to a swinging start.  Running late at 8am to meet an installation technician at Lazy Mon, I knew I had to get gas or I would never make it to the bar at all.  Hoping on all hopes that I wouldn’t run out of gas before getting to the station, I headed out of town to spend over $5 a gallon… yea, that’s right.  Keep all of the posts on Facebook coming about how cheap gas is in the States right now, I REALLY LOVE seeing them.  Not.

Where was I?  Oh, right.

So, there I was, almost at the gas station and sure enough I ran out of gas.  Taking it for what it was and not freaking out, I grab the empty gallon container out of the trunk and walk the half mile to grab some “get there gas.”

Sure enough, upon arriving at the gas station on foot, one of my not-so-favorite local “pharmacists” is pulling up on his moped and laughingly asks if I want a ride.  Of course he already knew the answer, but I politely declined.  He laughs and rides off.  I curse him in my head and smile.

Moving on.

I grab my $5 gallon of gas and head back to my truck.  It’s not a far walk and I actually don’t mind it with the clouds clearing and sun shining over head.  Walking along the road, I mentally check my list of what I need to fill my tank.

Empty water bottle. Check.

Stick. Check.

Gallon of gas. Check.

Knife to cut open bottle.  GOOSE EGG.

Being resourceful, I figure I can make a hole with my keys and then rip it open.  Clearly, this is not my first rodeo running out of gas.

I get back to my car and start to assemble my goods while not being side swept, when a random older man zooms past on his motorcycle.  I notice that he sees me, passes me and then turns around.  When he comes back he asks if I need help and I ask “tienes un cuchillo?” Do you have a knife?

The man sees the bottle in my hand, says something incomprehensible and zooms past me in the direction he originally came.  Figuring he was trying to help, I wait a beat for his return.  A minute later he comes back with a cut 2 liter bottle, grabs a stick and like a well-oiled machine we work together to pour the gas into the car.  Mission accomplished, I close the tank, thank him and without another word save for “con gusto” he jumps on his bike and leaves.  No strings.  No expectations.  No lingering.  Just good old fashioned help.

And to be honest… I didn’t need his help.  I had already done the “hard” part of walking a mile or so to and from the gas station with the gas.  I essentially had the tools I needed or at least the creativity to make it happen.  But there is an adrenaline rush that comes with both receiving and giving help to a stranger for the sole purpose of doing good.  The rush that comes with truly selfless acts and glimpses of a positive society.  Who was I to deny either one of us of that rare luxury?

The point of my story is two fold.  For one, we are embarking on a new year in less than 10 hours and resolutions aside, let’s just do selfless acts.  Let’s help people for no other reason than to help people.  You don’t have to help someone every single day, but most days or even some days can change a lot of people’s lives… even if it is just BRIGHTENING someone’s day after they ran out of gas on the side of the road.

And the other point of my story is to the ladies.  Often we are stuck in a world between trying to show how strong and independent we are while being beautiful and soft.  I once had a wise woman tell me that I didn’t have to be so scared to let other people help me- that it didn’t make me weak.  I think she was right.  I can be strong and beautiful, independent and ladylike.  I didn’t need that man’s help, but I took it.  Allow yourself to be treated like a lady, but be prepared like a warrior.  Either way, you’re good to go.

Happy New Year to everyone.  Love your family, enjoy your friends, laugh a lot, love often, show kindness, show gratitude, be strong, be soft, be accepting of help and offer it whenever possible.  The simplest of gestures can turn out to be grander than you think.

 

Resolutions Don’t Have To Be Cliche: Improvements in 2015

So we’ve all heard it year after year, “New Year, New Me!”  While there always seems to be people who snicker at the concept of resolutions, I personally don’t see a problem with it.  In my opinion, a bold starting date, such as the 1st of the year, seems like a great jump off point to get your goals and butt in gear.

I think the problem comes when people try for something either unrealistic or something they probably already know they won’t follow through with.  Why start something you can’t finish?  Of course, resolutions are meant to be challenging, but keep it within the realm of reality and your sanity people.

So for me this year I have 3 small New Year’s resolutions.  One is for me to feel better, one is to help Kennedy in the current (and get Abasi off my back : ) shhh) and the other is to help Kennedy in the future.

The first is pretty par for the course for me these days… I just need to really commit to it.  Ever since being pregnant I have developed an intolerance to beer, bread and pasta.  To take those 3 delicious staples from my diet, you would think Kennedy hated me even before she was born!  In fact, Abasi says he got suspicious that I might be pregnant when I told him I “wasn’t in the mood for pasta” right before we found out about Kennedy.  HELLO RED FLAGS!!! Well after the pregnancy it continued and me being stubborn it definitely took some time admitting to it.  I have done pretty well with getting the main culprit out, which is pasta, but I still dabble in beer and bread.  WHO WOULDN’T RIGHT??  Well for this upcoming year, I want to go from Jan 1st to my birthday, April 22nd, without any of it to truly see if it makes a difference in my health.  Pray for me friends, this will be TOUGH!

Secondly, I want to work on something SUPER EASY!  I am the first to admit my downfalls and as a parent I am certainly not perfect.  But this one is so easy, I know I can fix it if I am just MINDFUL about it.  So here it is…. I’M BAD AT WASHING KENNEDY’S HANDS BEFORE SHE EATS!  Whhheewww, weight off my shoulder, save the ‘Mom of the Year’ award until next year, you now know my dirty (literally) little secret.  I am super good at getting home cooked meals ready in a snap, serving it up exactly how Kenny will eat it and setting up her little table.  I GET SO CLOSE… and then I just let her go to it.  Well, it is kinda gross, especially being a tiny little force of nature constantly doing things in every conceivable nook and cranny in the house.  AND this is one of Abasi’s BIG hangups… he is super good at remembering this.  So, as silly as it may seem, I am going to be VERY mindful about washing Kennedy’s hands before she eats.  Moving on.

Finally, this is something I have been very aware of for a while, but until Kennedy really started mocking every little thing I did, I didn’t think of the consequences of.  I think I do something that easily 75% of America does without thinking twice.  When I walk past a mirror, especially the more I work out, I stop and check myself out, flex or lift my shirt to see my tummy.  One day, I was walking by the mirror in my bathing suit and stopped and checked out my figure.  I saw Kennedy stop playing with her toys and notice what I was doing.  I decided then, that I wanted to make this change.  I am not going to completely stop “analyzing” my fitness results but I am going to stop fussing about myself in the mirror in front of Kennedy.  I want my daughter to know that she is strong and beautiful from the inside out, not the other way around. I am happy with the way I am physically coming along which is a great thing.  I am glad Kennedy sees Abasi and I working out, getting stronger physically and mentally, but I don’t ever want her to obsess about her looks.

One day, I was walking by the mirror in my bathing suit and stopped and checked out my figure.  I saw Kennedy playing with her toys beside me stop and notice what I was doing.  I decided then, that I wanted to make this change.  I am not going to completely stop “analyzing” my fitness results but I am going to stop fussing about myself in the mirror in front of Kennedy.  I want my daughter to know that she is strong and beautiful from the inside out, not the other way around.

So that’s it.  Nothing too crazy, nothing too unobtainable.  I will work hard at these (and I’m sure many other things that need constant fine tuning) but I will not punish myself if I slip.  I will acknowledge it and move on. Friends and family feel free to hold me accountable… slap that damn piece of bread from my hand!  And then run fast my friends, very fast ; )

I hope everyone had a fantastic Christmas and has a new year full of health, wealth and happiness. What are your goals for the New Year?  Share ’em with me and let’s work on ourselves together! Here’s to a fantastic 2015!!

The Hand of Ignorance Blinds Us All: Moving Past Hate and Racism

I feel like I’m suffocating.  Perhaps that is a poor choice of words in respect to recent events and it is meant to have zero comedic relief in it, but it is truly how I am feeling at the moment.  I feel so lost and confused, embarrassed and sad, ashamed and defeated.  How can this still be such a violent and ugly problem in almost 2015?  Normally, living in such a remote place, it is easy to cast the troubles and tensions of the U.S. into the “not my problem” box, but I feel like I can’t ignore it anymore.  My gut is wrenched and my heart is almost in pieces as people are dying daily because of… what?  Police brutality?  Black vs white? Thugs?  No, it’s more simple than that.  It’s because of hate.  All because of hate.

And quite frankly, I need you to explain it to me.

I hear things like “you people” and “those people” as if all people of one race, religion or occupation subscribe to the same deplorable behavior and actions that have been wreaking havoc on our nation.  I read such hate being spewed throughout my newsfeed about black people or police as a whole, choosing to forget that every person is an individual and responsible for their own actions, not those of their people.  Truly you cannot believe in your heart that all police officers are killers… if so, then please know you are talking about my cousins who risk their lives every day to serve and protect, all the while having 2 little boys to come home to.  And certainly you do not believe that all black people are ignorant thugs, as I have read too many times to count in various news feeds and comments.  If so, then you are speaking also of the father of my daughter, my best friend and one of the most honorable men I know, whom mind you served our country as well… but he’s a thug right?  It goes beyond just generalizations of white people, black people and cops.  Too often people of the Islamic religion are also generalized as part of a whole, attacked undeservedly and tagged terrorists just for being Muslim.  Who are we in this world of constant diversity to assume anyone is anyone other than themselves?  Being a part of or from something does not make you ALL of that something.

Please do explain it to me, because I just don’t get the generalized, automatic hate.  As a white mother to a beautifully mixed daughter, I can’t understand the fact that some people will hate her, just for being “half her.”  What do I say to her as her white mother, that there are some people from my race that will simply hate her father’s race for no good reason?  Can we not see, as a supposedly evolved people, that one person’s actions only depict their character, for better or for worse?  I can’t explain it because I never conducted my life by the color of the people I interacted with. Being in a biracial relationship doesn’t mean my world is “colorless” but to the contrary it is that much more colorful.  I neither fell in love with Abasi because he was black, nor would I ever NOT love him because he was black.

Recently, I  re-read the saying “an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind” but I am beginning to think that possibly we already are.  Can we not see the small patches of beauty in this world enough to want to continue to move in that direction.  Towards a better future for our children, towards equality of all people: black, white, purple, gay, trans, Muslim, robot?  How can a country that has seen so much destruction and hate feel compelled to fester with that instead of rise against it and show that there is such a thing as being the better person?  Of moving forward.  Moments like Sergent Barnum and Devonte Hart putting aside their differences in Ferguson to embrace in the presence of pain.  Moments like Pakistani teenager Malala Yousafzai being the youngest recipient of the Noble Peace Prize after being injured by the Taliban and continuing to fight for human rights.  Or moments just in your own, simple life such as when my daughter grabs my face and says “I wuv you Mama.”  There is beauty to behold, but the blindness of hatred does not allow us all to always experience it, thus continuing to walk through a world, seemingly filled with pain and darkness.

The truth is, people are dying… on both “sides.”  This isn’t about who was right, who was wrong, was he justified, etc.  What I am talking about right here, right now is the bottom line hate that stirs the ignorance and fuels the fires.  No matter what “side” you are on, and it is nauseating to see the depths at which some of you will blindly defend your side, no one is winning.  There is no winner to be had here.  Children are still becoming fatherless and parents are still mourning their children.  Yes, it is true black lives matter.  So do white lives and cop lives.  So do gay lives and straight lives.  It’s really simple… ALL LIVES MATTER.

The only side we should be on, is a united front for humanity and equality.  When that day comes, then perhaps I will have the courage to look my daughter in the eye and explain that our pasts are all etched with dark times but we have risen above it and are a united, accepting people.  I truly do fear, as not only a woman who does not tolerate racism nor hate but especially as a mother, that not even my daughter will ever see that day.  But I can continue to pray for it.  And I can continue to teach my daughter that the beauty in this world starts inside of her.  That her actions to others not only have negative consequences but have the opportunities to enrich the lives of others as well.  I can continue to conduct myself and my actions with tolerance (which is different than patience Abasi, thank you very much… I am working on that as well) and to choose to love instead of hate. Please do not get me wrong… I am the last person in the world to say there are not people out there that I would love to put on an island just for them, but to hate someone really only defeats yourself and darkens your own soul.

So let’s do something.  Let’s start today, before the holidays, before the New Year.  Not as just a resolution to work on for one year, but forever for our futures.  TODAY.

Today, I vow to recommit myself to the achievement of peace.  Today, I vow to refocus my prayers to the people that cannot open their hearts to others.  Today, I vow to replenish my soul daily with love and acceptance instead of allowing myself to get wrapped up in petty problems or linger on negative actions.  If we all take a moment to look inside ourselves then maybe, just maybe, we can rid ourselves of the blinders and begin to see the wonder that this world truly holds.  Though we may feel foolish and cheated for ever living a day prior with a hand of ignorance held over our eyes, we can solidify and promise a beautiful and accepting future for our children… and what a day to look forward to that is.

Will you join me?

The epitome of love ❤

Everything in life should be as simple as this moment right here… ❤

All Dogs Go to Heaven: Facing the Elephant in the Room

39 days it took to face the elephant in the room.

39 days ago (which was 2 days ago when I initially started writing this post, umm HELLO LIFE!)  we had to let our 12 year old German Shepherd go to her final rest.  And with only her son Bentley left behind the big bag of dog food began to stare at me from all angles of the room… every time I walked by.

I guess everyone has their way of dealing with losing their beloved pets.  Everyone deals differently.  For me, the entire week of letting Gemini go was devastating.  The 2 days prior, while she was at the vet and having tests done, knowing we were leading to an unfortunate decision were just as hard as making the decision to let her go.  Being there in Gemini’s final moments, her head resting in my hands, choking on tears… there are just some things you won’t ever forget.  The next morning, Abasi and I quietly looked for a place to bury her along the coast, high enough from any water and along the path we use for our runs.  Together and without speaking, we dug a hole, placed her in gently and gave her a toy of Kennedy’s and 2 coconuts to hopefully grow a tree from.  We filled in the sand, placed flowers on her grave and said a prayer.  And really, that was that.  We cried and we hugged.  And that pretty much happened the rest of the week… crying and hugging, crying and hugging.

She always loved the beach… rest easy girl ❤

 

Honestly, the memories we have with her, the pictures, the now empty dog collar hanging from our rearview mirror, and the other Shepherds running around town were nothing compared to seeing this seemingly bottomless bag of food.  I was praying to buy another bag.  For years, we bitched and moaned about how much food the dogs ate and joked that they better find jobs to help pitch in.  It felt like every single week I was running last minute to the store to grab the huge bag of food to feed our horse sized (slight exaggeration) dogs that would be gone in the blink of an eye.  But now, the hardest part of dealing with letting Gemini go was having to walk past a bag of food every day that seemed to have no where to go.

Of course Bentley was eating…  Bentley eats everything.  But still for 39 days I felt like I was holding my breath until I had to buy more.  The first bag since Gemini.  The first bag without Gemini.

And as simple as that, I feel like a weight has been lifted from me.  It may seem small and insignificant but it’s as if a page has turned and now we can continue writing the rest of our story… always with Gemini in our prelude.  I don’t have any other beautiful or transcendent words to say about this.  It was just a bag of smelly dog food… but I feel better.

And so, I just want to end by reiterating something I wrote the day we buried her, which I feel she deserves to have re-said:

“Yesterday we had to say goodbye to a huge part of our hearts and our family. Gemini was a beautiful dog and from day one of bringing Kennedy home, she hovered near her, watching her. When Kennedy got older she would nudge Kennedy away from places or areas she shouldn’t be crawling or walking to. We know she isn’t in pain anymore, and I suppose love is enduring a pain yourself so that she can be free of it. Thank you Gemini for being an amazing little puppy that allowed Abasi to understand the first true feelings of tenderness for caring for another life. Thank you for so effortlessly loving me when I came into the picture. Thank you for giving us Bentley who is the silliest dog in the world and looks like a horse. I promise to take extra good care of him now when he will need you most. Thank you for taking this adventure with us to Costa Rica, you walked the lands of many countries, more than a lot of other dogs. And thank you for always seeming to have a protective spirit around Kennedy. I know you will still “shepherd” her and all of us in the right direction. Dogs aren’t just dogs, they are family, and we will love and miss you for the rest of our time. Sleep easy. RIP Gemini.”

 

Dear Kennedy, I Promise…

Dear Kennedy:

If on some days I seem impatient, I apologize for not taking the time to relax with you,
I probably spent the night up worrying about how to protect you forever.

If on some days I seem distant, I promise I am always by your side.
I have a thousand thoughts a day, but you are the center of them all.

If on some days you have more energy than I can muster, I promise to still get up and dance.
Even if for just a song or two, I will never say no to the chance to spin with you.

If on some days you seem hell-bent on doing something by yourself,
I promise to let you try, but always be within reach to catch you if you fall.

If on some days I seem to need a “time out” for myself, I promise to make it quick.
3 minutes by myself to breathe and refresh to continue trying to being the best mommy I can be.

If someday you fall and hurt yourself,
I promise to kiss your boo-boos and help you heal, even if only through my prayers.

If someday, no matter your age, you are sick,
I promise to give you homemade soup, endless cuddling and cookies of your choice.

If someday in the future, you feel bullied at school and your feelings are hurt,
I promise to hold you, to listen to you and to help you understand what is going on.

If someday in the future, I find out you are doing the bullying,
I promise still to hold you, to listen to you and to help you understand how you are hurting someone else.

If someday in the future you cannot solve a problem,
I promise not to solve it for you, but help you get to an answer.

If someday in the future, you feel like you cannot accomplish something,
I promise to show you your strength and how anything is possible if you work at it.

If someday in the future, I feel you are making poor decisions,
I promise to gently guide you without ever truly changing your direction, for that is for you to do.

If someday in the future you rebel and disobey,
I promise still to love you and trust you learn from your choices.

If someday in the future, you feel I simply don’t understand,
I promise I probably do not, but I will work to listen to the words you say instead of just hearing you.

If someday in the future a boy breaks your heart,
I promise to sit you down, wipe your tears and explain the difference between a boy and a man.

If someday in the future you are betrayed by a friend,
I promise to show you strong examples of friendship that I have created with the people who love you most, as my mother showed me in her bonds with the people that surrounded me.

If someday in the future you question yourself,
I promise to sit you down, as my father did with me, and explain exactly who you are, where you came from and how strong your roots are.

If someday in the future you feel scared,
I promise to protect you.

If someday in the future you feel the need to travel,
I promise to give you a journal and a map and send you on your way.

If someday in the future you feel lost,
I promise to pray for and with you.

If someday in the future you fall in love,
I will trust that this person respects you, makes you laugh, honors you and holds you in the highest regard.

If someday in the future you fall in love,
I will trust that you will return this respect, humor, honor and hold your partner in the highest regard.

If someday in the future you choose to marry the love of your life,
I will trust that you came to this decision together in love and with God for guidance.

If someday in the future you become a mother,
I will weep at the understanding that you will finally know the love I have for you.

If someday in the future I am able to watch you love and learn with your children,
I will listen to your concerns, soothe your fears, and thank God for letting me witness the strength of my daughter as a mother.

If someday in the future I am not around,
I promise you I am, even if not physically.

If someday in the future you find yourself missing me,
I promise you will feel me at your weakest moments and pray you find strength from our memories.

If someday in the future I am gone for good,
Know that it is because of you that I ever was the woman you remember, the woman I became and the woman I worked every day to be. Without you I was nothing, with you I realized I could be anything and because of you I had everything.

Love You to the Moon, Around the Sun, and MORE Than All of the Stars in the Universe,

Mama