Trusting Grace

(Deep breath)

I want to talk about....grace.

It's not just about valuing the presumably undeserving. Because, let's face it...lately we have become so preoccupied with focusing on the great divide that is our country that everyone seems to have a way of justifying a righteous mentality. 

No, I want to talk about grace in terms of what we are missing. Grace is not dependent on political affiliation, social status, intelligence, or wealth. Grace is an offering of parts of ourselves that we have to dig deep to get to in an effort to understand imperfection is not a deviation from measured worth. Grace is a heart job. And it is our responsibility to swallow our pride long enough to understand that grace heals. It is a common ground, where the language is universal and the outcome is where we truly understand the concept of humanity. 

Grace is hard though. It is an inherent attribute that we often overlook due to our hasty and impulsive reactions to when we feel we are wronged. Demanding fairness as a way to satisfy our anger, usually with overt rhetoric doused in a tone that commands justification for how we feel. Without the guidance of grace, we get animosity, pride, division, and....we get nowhere, honestly. 

The absence of grace is nothing short of neglectful. We rob ourselves of the chance to practice acceptance, forgiveness, and opportunity. More importantly, we reinforce to others that they matter less. That they are somehow not deserving of decency. We all have struggles. We all experience hardships. We all have our own way of coping with the pressures that arise from those trials. And not ONE of us can deny that we have projected our feelings onto others, have demonstrated foul reactions, and have said some unnecessarily hurtful things during those times. So, why do we have such a hard time accepting that others do the same?

Grace is willful. Grace is intentional. It is about admitting our part in the wrongdoings and holding ourselves accountable to do what we can to handle it with compassion and mercy. I am not delusional... I understand that all attempts aren't going to result in harmony. We cannot hold ourselves responsible for other's receptivity, reciprocity, or forgiveness. What I am saying is that we ARE responsible for demonstrating grace in an effort to teach, guide, model, and reinforce resolution in the midst of divide. 

Stop wasting your energy defending yourself to people who are not at a place to understand you. Instead, appreciate where they are in their life at this time and tell them you are there if they need to talk about those struggles. Stop spending your time in anger. Instead, concede to what you cannot control, and dig deep to remember you have so much to be grateful for. Stop making enemies. Instead, make room for people who are different than you so that you can understand that co-existence isn't something that is deserved, it is something that is necessary. Stop always assuming you are right. Instead, understand that it isn't always a right or wrong situation... sometimes it is merely an issue of difference. Just because your top three values aren't the exact same as mine, it doesn't mean we are any less of a human than the other. We may not agree, we may have a really hard time understanding each other...BUT that doesn't mean that we will never evolve into understanding and practicing those values at some point. 

We are ever-evolving. Grace has to evolve with us. Grace has a place at every table, in every home, in every heart, and in every decision that we make. If at first we don't respond with grace, there is no resolve until we do. Recognizing grace from others is a mandate to respond with the same sentiment. It is easy for us to meet anger with anger. I wish it was just as easy to meet grace with grace. 

May grace be within you, may grace be upon you, and may grace be heavily embedded in our communities.

Much love and joy,

Beth

Strong, Not Wrong...

Strength. 
I think there is something to be said about the conceptualization of it. There is a misconception that people don't talk about. But I want to talk about it. 

What we know/recognize about strength: It helps us build resilience. It protects us from our own selves so we can get through the hard parts of life. It prevents us from staying down when we are in the dark. It helps us to help others. To be able to put others before you in times of need. Strength can be running 10 miles or lifting eleventy eight pounds. It could be putting on a brave face to get through the scary. It is grit. It is fire. It is....bold. Strength is something we want to attribute to ourselves. Whether it is strong-willed, strong-minded, or strong-hearted....we want that for ourselves and for our loved ones.

But...what we don't recognize as strength: It takes A LOT of strength to allow yourself the emotional vulnerability to break down and feel your feelings in order to get through them. It takes strength to swallow your pride to accept things that need to be accepted. It takes strength to be honest and have the difficult conversations where we often deflect. It takes strength to walk away from a situation where you want to be but know you shouldn't. And it takes a hell of a lot of strength to admit to yourself when you are being selfish with your feelings. It takes strength to.... let go. 

It also takes strength to be unsteady. To experience the overwhelming clouds that envelope our thoughts, tiring us and wearing us down. And it takes strength to experience that unsteadiness by telling everyone that you need time to reset. And it takes strength to be in the same situation as others, yet be in a different place emotionally about it, and to be okay with that. It takes strength to admit your're confused or overwhelmed and seek help for resolution and clarity.

We are so scared to tell people that. As if it makes us weak or unable to handle our emotions. As if those emotions are invalid or that we are not adequate enough to get through them on our own. Well, I have news for you...self-awareness is never a sign of weakness or defeat. We are human. We have feelings. Some of those feelings are hard. So to those of us who are struggling a little bit trying to navigate the emotions we think we are supposed to be feeling, let's just feel exactly what we are feeling without trying to qualify or justify them with whether we meet someone else's expectations. Strength is being confident that your feelings are valid. And that sometimes those feelings require strength from others to get through. And sometimes it requires you to sit in your car for 30 minutes, cry it out, and get on with your day. And sometimes you're compelled to give the day your middle finger, say screw it, and do something bold to get through the hard.

Selflessness is strength, but so is putting yourself first every once in a while. Taking risks takes strength, but so does working hard to maintain your structure and routine in a chaotic world. Strength is fluent in several different languages of the head, the heart, and body. Strength is allowing ourselves to get lost in a sea of emotions because we are confident that the anchors we planted will provide us with enough security to fend off any fear of never coming out on the other side of those feelings. Strength is understanding the concept of beautiful disasters, bittersweet goodbyes, and fortunate tragedies. Being able to set aside our own feelings to have regard for others. To step out of our comfort zones for growth. To make sacrifices that prioritize what is important to us in difficult times. All of it takes strength.

Never disregard the "taboo" parts of strength - the deviations from the "acceptable" notions of what strong is. Never short yourself of what you have acquired in regard to what makes you strong. And never, ever, compare your feelings to others, or to how you feel other's will perceive your ways of coping.

Find strength in yourself. Find strength in others. Find strength for others and with others. Just keep finding your strength. It is there. You're just seeing it and feeling it as a weakness. Stop minimizing your grit. It's not always about grace...

Much love, peace, and joy,

Beth

Dear Broad Squad...

I have felt compelled to share something with you all.

I am so sorry. About everything everyone is going through. About having to navigate the emotions, the journey, and the experiences through all of this. I have so much love for you all. My heart has doubled in size just knowing that none of us have to experience this alone. I pray for all of us daily and very intentionally. To have the strength and courage to voyage these rough waters. To be at peace with acceptance, and to trust in the support of each other. It's kind of a beautiful thing that we have been brought closer and now have the common thread of Mary Ann. And how that Mary Ann shaped hole inside of us may not ever  be filled, but will always be what makes her live inside us forever. I want to hug all of your hearts. But most importantly, I want to open mine up to each of you with some perspective that I hope you find valuable or comforting.

I am not going to talk about how incredible Mary Ann is. I am not going to talk about why everyone should have the opportunity to know her. Why? Because each of you that are reading this are here because of her, and whatever part of your journey she played, you know exactly why already. She has touched each of our lives, and though we have all had our own experiences with her, we can all agree that we could go on for a lifetime about how she enriched each and every one of us in one way or another.

I want to instead talk about grief. I want each of you to know that it manifests differently in everyone. Everyone experiences trauma differently. Everyone goes at their own pace when it comes to acceptance. And if someone is not experiencing it the way you are, or the way you expect them to, it doesn't make their grief any less intense for them. Don't let the way each other grieves divide you. Always remember the "why" behind the grief and understand that the grief is just the way love cries. 

We are allowed to be selfish in our feelings, but not to tread in those waters. We can be angry and upset that we have to lose a friend... That we want her around forever. That she was robbed. But one thing I genuinely believe is that we are NOT allowed to feel sorry for ourselves or for Becca and the kids. Before you think I am being heartless, hear me out...

Feeling sorry insinuates a sense of helplessness or doubt. But overall, let's look closer at what we are really looking at here...
Has there ever been a day that has gone by that someone, if not multiple people, have reached out, checked in, and offered help? Has there ever been a time where Becca or Mary Ann couldn't count on SOMEONE to help at the drop of a hat? Has there ever been a time where we haven't collectively sent waves of prayers, good vibes, light, laughter, or love? Has there ever been a time where we haven't figured things out together, even if it mean taking shifts at doing different things just to get the job done? Have we done our part to make sure Becca's stubbornness doesn't get the best of her when we know she needs help? Have we shown up and stayed for the hard talks? Have we showered the family with love and care? Is there ANY shred of doubt that we will continue doing these things forever on end? 

I look around at each of you, and I can certainly answer these questions with confidence. We aren't allowed to feel sorry because they will forever feel the love of this rather large extended chosen family. I am certain Becca is confident that between this circle of framily, she and the kids will be taken care of. I am certain that Mary Ann trusts that as well, and is comfortable leaving them in our hands. And let's  not forget the unwavering strength Becca exudes. It is not our responsibility to feel sorry. It is our responsibility to uphold the love, grace, and support that they need. That we all need...from each other. It is our responsibility to celebrate Mary Ann and the time we got to have with her. We will be there to have slumber parties with Becca when the bed feels...bigger. We will be there to take the kids while she catches up on sleep, or wants a night away. We will be there at every event the kids have. We will be there at every milestone, setback, and the in-betweens. To be so confident and so sure about this is honestly quite humbling and reflects the values of how this family works. And just because one chapter comes to a devastatingly unfair end.... it doesn't mean we close the book. We keep writing it.  

Please don't get me wrong...I am not minimizing anyone's feelings. Lord knows tears are a plenty and hearts are aching. And rightfully so!  I am simply singing the praises of the strength of this family. And how it is going to be the saving grace of such an unfortunate, emotionally heavy, and unfair loss. We will be deprived of future endeavors with Mary Ann, but we will not deprive ourselves of her memory, her family, or honoring her. Think about the blessings that have happened in our lives just because she has been in it. Think about the number of smiles and laughs that we got to experience because of her. Think about what we learned about life thanks to her. Those things are forever instilled in us. And forever instilled in Becca and the kids. Nothing can take that from us. And THAT is the very reason why I have no worries about Becca and the kid's future. Resiliency is as strong as the support that reinforces it. We are that support. And damn we are strong together. 

Cry it out. Reach out. Run 10 miles. Break shit. Experience your grief. Experience the hurt. But also remember that through loss much is found. And for the Hunt-Soulis family, they have cultivated a family so big and so selfless and so strong that the only thing left to be found is the gift of relief that everything is going to be okay. 

Look at how comfortable we are fulfilling this heart work. Look at how we have collectively gotten through this journey thus far, and how we have gotten this family this far. Now think about how warm that light feels on the Hunt-Soulis'. When Becca says things like, "No worries, I got it", she does. She is strong and she is confident. Because what that statement means is we've got it. And we do. Always.

All my love,
Beth

When Friends Have to Be Friends

Friends. How sweet it is to have them. How extraordinary it is to be one. When we think about friends, we think about fun and laughter. We think about "that one time that....". We plan, we talk, we laugh, we cry. Together. And it is so refreshing to be able to experience this part of life.

And sometimes calling people "friends" is insulting because they are so much more than that. They learn and experience the intricacies of who we are, how we are, and what we are. They understand the good, but they welcome the bad with open hearts. The worst memories, experiences, and secrets are all known and still, there's nothing but unconditional love. These are the friends who you ask to help you bury a body and they already have the hole dug, no questions asked. The ones who you have long conversations with, leaving your heart full and your spirit brighter....and maybe a little drunk sometimes.

And they are the ones that make honesty easy. Even during the difficult times. You see, there will come  a time in your life where you will reflect on these friends and realize that one day you will have to be strong for one of them. You will realize that "rounding up the troops" will be pivotal in the game of surviving heartbreak, trauma, uncontrollable circumstances, and Earth shattering truths/happenstances. The select few who are on go, always a phone call away for whatever you throw at them. From babysitting to witnessing a living will. From hiding out to volunteering for housekeeping/cooking. From pick up/drop off schedules to taking you out into a field to break shit. Doesn't matter because they are the friends who set limitless expectations in regard to support.

Imagine how much you love these friends. This circle of family that you got to choose. How much they mean to you, how much value they have placed in your life. How much your heart beats a little faster when you think about how blessed you are to have them. And then think about something happening to them, and feeling all of that just as intensely.

You hurt with them. You suffer with them. You go through every emotion with them. But... you must wipe your tears first so you can see clearly enough to wipe theirs. You must take deep breaths so that you can talk them through theirs. You must take two minutes to collect yourself so that you can tend to their fears/anxieties/wishes. And most importantly, you must have faith that YOU can get through the hard with grace, love, and patience so that you are at peace with yourself and can say you did everything to ensure their journey was an experience that justifies their worth. And there should be absolutely no excuse, reason, and zero doubt that that could be done without question. Your strength becomes their brave. Your commitment becomes their trust. Your sanity becomes their comfort. You are THAT important.

We are afforded one life. We get one shot at living it to the fullest. And part of that is fulfilling the responsibilities of sharing love with others. Even if it means helping those we love at the end of their journey to continue experiencing our blessings we cast on to them. We have to be their "fullest". We have to be each other's "fullest". We have to experience life with each other. The good, the bad, the ugly. Till death do us part. Forever and ever. Even when we have to face the "this is my forever" part of life with the ones we love the most....

Social ME-dia

We create this world online where we share parts of ourselves with others. Sounds uplifting, right? Well, the culture we have created is one of which depends on the validation to those posts. Do we post to spread joy, or do we post to receive it? Is either one right or wrong?

We sit behind these screens, trying to find the perfect hashtag, perfect line, picture, quote, or video. How much of who we really are gets diluted? How much of our real selves gets sacrificed because of fear that it isn't going to receive accolades when posted? 

Why are we so dependent on the feedback we get from others to feel good about ourselves? When did our self-esteem begin being measured by number of likes, hearts, laugh faces, etc? 

I want to challenge you to explore this. Really think about your daily routine and how often you post, what you post, and how many times you take a picture to get it exactly right, and how many times you write and re-write a post, and how much time you spend thinking of something you feel everyone will like. 

Now ask yourself 'why'...

My beautiful people! Stop wasting energy on others and invest it in yourself. If you feel the need to be validated, look in the mirror and tell yourself exactly what you need to hear! And believe it! Because YOU. ARE. AMAZING. Be unapologetically you. 

What does that mean?

It means screw capturing the precise froth art on your morning joe and spend time making mustaches out of them instead.

It means the 20 minutes you spent setting up the magazine-esque backdrop just for a picture that ends up being captured "Morning vibes", could have been spent sleeping in and waking up more refreshed.

It means being relatable, not someone who tries to one-up others.
It looks like a messy house where memories are being made rather than a perfectly crisp house where it appears nothing fun is happening.
It means washing the dishes tomorrow because popsicles outside with the kids sounds more fun.
It means that romper looks great and you should buy it, flaunt it, and not give a damn what anyone has to say about it.
It means not comparing yourself to others. Being vulnerable to your imperfections. 

It means living out your responsibility of being kind and loving, without expectations of reciprocation or praise. 

It means..... no one gets to be you but you. And recognizing how special that is. And understanding how that will ALWAYS be good enough. 

Stop anticipating other's mentality and start anticipating how much you can get out of life when you live it according to YOU. Your self-esteem does NOT get to be determined by others. Especially those shallow and insecure enough to judge you. You do NOT get to rob yourself of your essence because it doesn't align with trends. 

So, instead of perfectionism, embrace realism. When you spend so much time trying to collect 'likes' and 'followers', you steal your own joy and pride for who you are. And eventually you forget who that is because you have conceded to conformity and authenticity just becomes an illusion.

'Love yourself, no matter who you really are...'

The Friend Without Kids

Hi, my name is Beth and I am not a mother
.
Lately, I have been struggling with this notion, for several reasons. I have accepted that my plan did not work out. That's not the issue. The issue is that it doesn't take away the pain of not having a child or two by now. And the bigger issue, is that I internalize feelings of inadequacy regarding how my mommy friends see me....or don't see me, for that matter. 

I see my friends with their kids, having play dates, bonding, and loving each other's kids as their own. Their kids will be best friends, and my friends will likely stay very close. I wanted to take that journey with you all. I wanted to have kids be best friends with your kids. But it wasn't part of God's plan for me. And that's okay.  

But sometimes I feel selfish and needy, but more than that, I feel a pain in my heart about how much I don't see some of my friends anymore. They usually say things like, "Well it is just going to be a bunch of kids and moms and I didn't think you'd want to be around all that boring stuff." The truth... I do. I do want to be involved in that "boring stuff". Why? Because your children are a part of you.  A part of someone I love dearly and want to be around more. Because you brought another version of you into this world, and that is a blessing. Because friendship shouldn't stop when roads divide.

You see, my friends that are moms now, they get me. They always have and probably always will. But I cannot say that I get them, and I internalize guilt for that. I am not a mom. There's a lot I will not understand. But hear me loudly... I DO get children. I get parenting. I get the hardships. I get the work, the effort, the love, the chaos, and the journey. I don't have kids of my own, but I am helping raise 30+ kids on a daily basis. I teach them, and guide them, and give them advice. I help them grow, I support them. I show up for them. I get frustrated with them, I discipline them, and I worry about them. I am proud of them, I encourage them, and I tell them I love them. And I do. Do I have them in my possession 24/7? No, I don't, so I cannot 100% empathize with your life as a parent,but it doesn't mean I don't want to be involved.

I am not naive. I know you don't want the same things as you did before motherhood. I know your priorities have changed. I know that life is much more complex and comes with a whole new set of barriers and praise-worthy events. I know that a schedule is difficult to follow, and that life happens. But it happens for all of us. And I want to be a part of those happenings. And I want you to be a part of mine.
I am so incredibly proud of each of you for being the parents you are being. I am so proud that you are giving us hope for our future generations to come. I am proud that you are functioning through the chaos of parenthood. I am proud of who you have grown into. I am especially proud of the way parenting fits you. I am just so....proud. 
But I selfishly want you to be proud of me too. I have gone through very tough transitions in my life. I have reached, what seemed like, impossible goals. I have gained achievements and I have taken strides toward major changes in my life. And I have wanted you to be there for all of it. I want to make you as proud of me as I have been for myself. Why? Because you matter to me. We have seen each other through everything. You are part of the reason I have these goals. Because a lifetime worth of inspiration is from each of you. Because you believe in me, and would let me know regularly. I tried to keep in close touch. I tried to set up dinner nights. I tried to be involved. And while some of you respond, I know now that maybe I have been selfish. Or maybe I have just been misguided. Or maybe I have been jealous because you are where I wish I were at this point in my life. 

Please don't think I am angry. I am not in the slightest bit. I think I just have to accept that my timing is wrong. That I should wait for you to contact me as you adjust to life as a parent. I want you to soak it all in. I want you to not take time with them for granted. I want you to love them hard and tell them every single day that they matter and you are there for them. I never want you to miss a milestone, sporting event, heartbreak, fundraiser, dance recital, school project, or a mommy-child date. But I do want you to know that I want to see them in a tutu, I want to cheer for them from the stands, I want to go to their plays, and I want to hear all about their milestones. I want to do all that with you. Life has changed, we have changed, and our efforts have changed. But my love for each of you has not. Though life becomes a whole new level of beautiful when you become a parent, I know it can get harder and more complicated at times as well. I want to be there for you. For all the wonderful, and all the messy, and all the learning. 
I know life can get overwhelming as a parent. I want to support you through that. I know life with kids can require you to be at three places at once. I want to be a stand-in parent so that your kids have someone that loves them at events you can't make. Parenting is not easy. There are no instructions. There's times of feeling like you're failing your kids because you aren't the Pinterest mom. There are times when you feel like running away. Or you lock yourself in the closet just to get 15 minutes of quiet or sleep. I want to be the person you call from that closet. I may not have kids, but I am someone who wouldn't have to find a sitter to come help you with yours. I wouldn't be able to tell you how my day has been the same, but I can tell you how strong you are and how my closet is my car, and how I hide away in it often. I want to have movie nights with your kids where we bake treats and binge watch Pixar films. I just want you to know, you are embedded in my life, and I want nothing more than to make room in my heart for your kids, too.
I know you have your families now. I'm just saying I want to feel like I'm still a part of it, too. Because you are always and forever a part of mine. 

Much love to each of you. I love you all!

Beth

Climb On

You know what ironically doesnt discriminate? Pain and heartbreak. It's universal, and it's a language everyone understands in some way, whether it's a break up, divorce, death, trauma, or a string of bad news. But love and restoration are also universal. This time last year I was in a pretty dark place. It wasnt just because of one thing, rather it was dealing with a lot of loss (including myself). I celebrated nothing. I was forced to go to breakfast for my birthday (which I am so thankful for now), and I had given up on trying to be genuinely happy for the time being. This year, however, I feel like I have an overwhelming amount of things to celebrate. And I realized how dark it was after losing focus of what I've gained over what I've lost. Sheesh, what a difference a year makes.

I could write about those hardships and difficulties I have faced, but I choose not to. Truth is, everyone faces them. If I'm going to look back over the last year, I choose to focus on what I have gained and accomplished instead. I choose to focus on the restoration.

I went to my first broadway show,
ran my 4th half marathon, got promoted at work, made new forever friends, started development on non-profit, achieved a healthier version of myself, celebrated my sisters engagement/marriage, raised my credit score, paid off a credit card, went on dates, had more first kisses, my blog reached 5 countries and had over 1200 views, went to therapy, went to Cali where I rode a road bike, partied, walked a suspension bridge, and where my comfort zone was challenged in more ways than I can count. I was blessed with the opportunity to be a part of a campaign that won LLS Woman of the Year. I learned more about loss and death, and how through the pain, they plant seeds for growth around everything and everyone they knew. I've reunited with people that will never not have residence in my heart, and I'm going on month 6 or 7 being vegan. I finally got to meet my best friend's girlfriend, and more importantly, I got to see (in person) how happy she is and how far she has come as well. I have learned how to take things in stride, to say 'yes' more to adventure and to say 'no' more to work-related pressures. Stress has recently knocked me to the floor, but I have a very strong support system that has helped me get back to health. I am finding balance in my life, and I have learned to love my new normal.

And... I took risks. For what seemed like forever, I was so incredibly scared to let people into my heart, as it was under construction. To take the risk, to chance feeling pain again seemed irresponsible to me. But risk is hardly risk when your heart is given back to you. Like a boomerang. And if you dont take risks, you miss out on moving mountains. On progress. On opportunities that fill holes and bury doubt.

I let my guard down, despite my unwavering determination not to. I didnt gently hand my heart over, I threw it. At the time, it didnt make any sense to me why I would do that. But, the concept of time introduced me to the art of indulging in experiences, and not taking opportunities for granted. But what I did not expect was my heart to be given right back to me. To get to experience how I love from someone else. Dont get me wrong, I feel I dont deserve it at times because I'm still trying to figure out balance and overcoming the fear of loss, but having said that, it doesnt diminish the capacity of the love I recieve, daily. I've learned it's not about giving your heart away...its about finding one whose beat has been missing from the soundtrack of your existence. And you dont know that it has been missing until you hear it. And it's the song that introduces the biggest plot twist... the one that makes you say "I did NOT see that coming, but I'm so glad it did."

So closing out a year that has been an uphill climb is bittersweet.... because this view from the top is overwhelmingly satisfying and breathtaking. A view that allows me to see all that I've been blessed with (the good and the bad). A view that puts into perspective the reward that arises from risk, sacrifice, and determination.

I have done well with forgiveness this year, for others, but mostly to myself. Theres so much more I want/need to work on still, and so opportunities will not be taken for granted.

In 2019 I'm challenging myself to make more meaningful connections with others. To live a more purpose-filled life, and to put myself first sometimes. To lift others up, and when they are up, I will let them know their work has not gone unnoticed. I will gossip less, and brag on those around me more. I will be more present. I will celebrate good news, and I will look for silver linings in the bad.

So, Happy New Year, and cheers to finding your next mountain to climb. May the views continue to be extraordinary. 

Learning The Most

I know with death, there is always a lot of confusion, wonder, and questions. There are a lot of thoughts and feelings that plague our hearts and our minds. We put a lot of pressure on ourselves when we tell ourselves (or when someone else tells us) that we have to get over it and move on. And we often overlook the fact that there is an alternative exit strategy to "getting over it", and that is to get through it. Some circumstances are not made for getting over...those are the ones we have to get through. And as bad as it sucks, and as painful as it is, getting through it requires a strength that you never knew you had, and one that you will learn to never let go of. It's empowering, really.

Life is short. We know that. Our days are numbered. We know that, too. It is so unfathomably unfortunate the way that gets put into perspective sometimes. But they are there. Those circumstances. No matter if they are expected, or come out of the dark and set your world on fire. They are there. And then pain consumes us, and we don't know what to do. So we are forced to grieve.

We all have our own way of grieving. Some of us cry a lot. Some of us sleep and withdraw. Some of us turn to others for support. Some of us consume things that make us forget momentarily. Some of us are seemingly selfish in our search for answers, demanding we get them, no matter how much it hurts others to give the answers. Some of us sit idly in denial. Then there are some of us that celebrate. Yes, you read that correctly. I said celebrate.

Lee was in a pivotal chapter in my life. I am honored to have known him, and I learned a lot in that period of time when he was a constant in our group. But, if I am going to be 100% transparent, he taught me more after his departure from his Earthy life than he did when he was here.

Let me explain:

Upon hearing the news, I hung up the phone and immediately called, without hesitation, someone I trusted who would talk to me about it in an honest capacity. I haven't spoken to this individual in such depth, about something so intense, in well over ten years. It was an automatic response, and I followed through with it. It was at that moment I understood what that part of my life meant to me. How it impacted my life. How, my friends were not my friends. They were my family. How no one could ever replace them, no matter what in life got in the way.

Fast forward to the service... it took me a while to figure out how to put my thoughts into words on this. It wasn't even about the amount of people there. It was about who we were. We represented a live timeline of Lee's life. He was in each of our lives, serving different purposes for each of us. We all had stories, we all had memories, we all had... "a nice time" with Lee at some point in our lives. Hearing the stories, just wow. With every tear on every cheek, on every row and those standing... they told stories, they stained our faces with sadness as we traveled through time hearing those stories.

But looking past the tears... the amount of love, the amount of support, the amount of light that was present was moving. People who haven't seen each other in years were reunited. People met new people. People made new friends. We all made new memories. All of that happened, and was made possible, only because our eyes, our hearts, and our minds were opened to the fact that life is short. We realized this situation was bigger than our feelings. It was bigger than our thoughts, opinions, and our assumptions about what happened. It was bigger than our sadness.

It's about understanding that our fall-outs with people shouldn't define our entire experience with them on our journey. It's about understanding that some wounds won't heal, but they don't always have to hurt. It's about the scars, both literal and metaphorical, that serve as reminders of what has instilled the strength we have today. It's about realizing how many people would selflessly place themselves in your darkness, just so you wouldn't have to navigate it alone. How do we not celebrate that? How do we not bask in the realization that one single person could fill a room with 39 years of experiences that bring us all together with one common denominator...compassion? How?

Fast forward to the fellowship that followed the service. Only Lee could host the party (reunion) of the year without even being there. It was here that I realized how special my friends are to me. How I was reminded of why I consider them family. And it was there that I realized there was nothing anyone could do to get in the way of that. Ever. We were able to talk, and laugh, and cry together. I felt guilty for laughing, but then, not really. I felt more thankful for my journey in this thing called life, and the experiences that have shaped who I am today than ever. I hugged people with deep endearment, I smiled with confidence, and my love for everyone there was unwavering.

Then there was the "After party", where everyone continued celebrating downtown. To me, this was the most pivotal part of the night. It is where a lot of us started over, even if it was right from where we left off. This is where I learned, with conviction, what life was about. It is about saying yes to more experiences. It is about finding your purpose, and living it. It is about not holding back, not being afraid, and not letting your past get in the way of your future. It is about letting go of assumptions, and living in the moment. People deserve the real you. Be that version of yourself. It is about appreciating your roots. Meeting new people and making new memories with every experience, no matter how significant or insignificant. Learn to be happy for people's successes, not envious. It is about accepting that life is short, and that each day we spend not being kind to ourselves or others, living in regret, living with hate in our hearts, or living naively with the mindset that we have all the time in the world to do what we want to do, we are depriving ourselves of our purpose. It's about understanding there is always something to celebrate. Always.

We put so much pressure on ourselves to live up to expectations that we allow others to set for us. This experience has taught me so much about cutting those chains, and focusing on what I want for myself. You can have your picture perfect photos that took you three hours to take, just to get the perfect lighting and angle. I want the candid pictures of me and my friends with out heads thrown back in laughter, looking a hot mess in sweats, sitting around a fire, talking about life and how we have even made it this far. Because that is real life. And sometimes, I lose sight of that. I am pretty sure we all do. And then something like this happens, and we are slapped in the face with earth shattering reality.

So how do we become more mindful and aware of when we lose sight? Well, for me, the answer was unfortunately discovered through the death of a friend, which has relentlessly reminded of some very valuable life lessons:

People are precious, and the journey you take with them has value. Always.
Experiences are not to be taken for granted, and are meant to be shared.
Everyone has a purpose, and the responsibility to be kind, compassionate, and forgiving.
Memories are to be cherished and talked about. Often.
Plans are to be followed through with, not just talked about.
The impact we have on others is limitless, and lasting. Make it positive.
We are influencing people when we don't even realize it. Make it inspiring.
Appreciation for the small things is scarce. Let's bring it back.
And finally, family is not defined by DNA, and there is always room at the table for more.

I understand that Lee is no longer physically with us, but through this experience, his presence has never been so prominent.

Be the kind of person who's memorial would be standing room only.

Many thanks, and much love to you, Lee.


Beth

And to those of you who were closest to Lee... don't pressure yourself to be "okay". Just be you. Raw you. In time, you will feel a sense of normalcy. Until then, just know that your support system is big enough to fill a church.

The Note

There's no way I could express myself or talk about this because I could never make the illogic of suicide logical to those who aren't...me.

You will probably be so angry with me, and rightfully so. I am so sorry. So very sorry. You were there for me, and you were enough. You did enough. You loved me enough. This wasn't senseless. In fact, this was plaguing my mind throughout the day. Every day. You helped me fight. You helped me understand compassion. And you most certainly taught me about love.

You must have so many questions. Unfortunately, I have no concrete answer for you. That part is where I have failed most. I don't have the answers for myself either. And that is where I struggle the most. I didn't reach out overtly because I didn't need saving. I needed solitude. An intrinsic belief that my happiness didn't need to depend on others. You gave me moments. Glimpses of refuge that I longed to be able to give myself. This was not about worth, feelings of inadequacy, or lack of faith. This was about me battling a war within myself that I wouldn't wish upon anyone.

But please know this: My laughs were real. My smiles you gave me were real. My heart loved genuinely. I have you to thank for all of that. My world without you would have been apocalyptic. Everyone who was part of my journey gave me reason to want to see what could happen next. How many smiles I could muster up, thanks to an incredible community of friends. What you don't realize is that none of this was to hurt you. You, in fact, kept me going. You gave me life. But somewhere along the way, I realized that without you, I was lifeless. My smiles were masks, and I was outgrowing them. Then you would do the next incredible thing, and I'd realize life was about moments, not the memories that come from those moments. And, unfortunately, moments can also be grueling darkness, laced with fear and uncertainty about whether I would ever be at peace with myself.

It isn't fair to you. I know that. And there is nothing I can say to make it fair. I know that, too. But, and please forgive me for this, this isn't about you. It never was. I would never do this TO you. I did this FOR me. There's a difference, and trust me when I say I struggled daily with knowing I would cause you much pain. I hope you can learn to forgive me. I hope you will never be able to understand this. I wish that on no one. Celebrate your resilience. It isn't as easy as it seems to many.

I know I am leaving you, but understand that the love I have for you is immeasurable. I lost my ability to make sense of life, but you were always there, reminding me that trying was worth it. And though I grew weak from all the trying, I have no doubt the collective strength you unknowingly bestowed upon me will inevitably be the same strength that gets you through this. I envy that strength. I always have.

Thank you. So much. For being the golden chariots that so gracefully carried me through my war-torn world.

Farewell.

Ex Appeal

Dear Exes,
You have all played a pivotal role in my understanding of preservation in regard to relationships. So, thank you for that. Exes dont always get the credit they deserve. So...
Thank you all for being exactly what I needed at that juncture in my life. Whether it ended well or not, I choose to focus on growth.
My hope is that I taught you as much as you taught me about life, love, relationships, and growth. I have learned so much throughout life, and much of that is from my time with you. Regardless of what phase in my life you were a part of, the love and appreciation I have for you measures the same.
The experiences we shared have given me the ability to do better, be better, and become wiser. I'm sorry it has taken me this long to realize that the aftermath of us is worth as much as when we were together. Manifested differently, of course, but still as valuable. I've learned how to navigate grief, anger, sadness, and loss. I have learned a lot about resiliency and recovery. Most of all, I have learned more about forgiveness... both giving it and asking for it... than ever through my relationships.
I have learned to compartmentalize my wants and my needs regarding my feelings. I still get mad, and sad, and feel pain at times, and it makes me want to hate (either you or myself, depending on how our story ended). But I realize I dont need to hate. I need to be thankful that one of us realized forever wasnt for us. So that we can have a chance with whoever forever is. Hurting someone is hard, and being hurt by someone seems harder. But pain is pain, and at some point we have to stop and ask ourselves, "What did this teach me?" instead of "Why did this happen to me?" When we learn to reflect on the truths of the relationship, we begin to see that even though we were a part of each other's lives, it does not necessarily mean we were part of a whole. For a while, we were a whole. We were as whole as we were meant to be for that time. We were wholeheartedly all in. And though we ended, it doesn't take away from the fact that there was a beginning and middle that shaped how we view what love looks like, feels like, and how different each experience can be.
You have also taught me about fear and bravery. Being scared shitless to give my heart away again. Scared of being hurt or hurting someone else. Scared to take chances and scared to do life solo. Scared I will never find a best friend in someone else like I did with you. But that fear provoked courage to do all of those things. The end of each of our relationships brought a chance for the beginning of a new one. And with each new one, new courage, new confidence, and new perspective bloomed. In other words, I'm doing something right if each new journey is different than the one before.
Break ups have taught me about effort, and how sometimes we become monotonous and stop trying. And how there's no such thing as compensating for someone's else's lack of effort. Lack of effort seems to mean lack of desire. Ouch. But it doesnt mean it is/was purposeful. We didn't plan pain, we didn't plan an end. And what we DO plan, well, sometimes it gets rained out...washing away everything that hides the truth and exposing us to the hard reality that our shore has eroded. And that's hard to face, but necessary nonetheless.
Whether we were together for ten days or ten years, each relationship has brought purpose to my life and depth to who I have become. I appreciate and will always preserve the best parts of each of you. Because, at the end of the day, some of the very best parts of my life were with you, and some of those memories will remain that way.
If I hurt you, please forgive me. At the time, I thought I was doing the best I could. If you hurt me, my forgiveness is yours. Thank you for the pain...it reminds me of how real my feelings were for you, and in retrospect, that's an extraordinary gift you have given me; the opportunity to love you.

Forever grateful,
Beth