Apparently, I'm Retro

According to good ol' wiki,
Retro is a culturally outdated or aged style, trend, mode,
or fashion, from the overall postmodern past,
that has since that time become functionally
or superficially the norm once again.

Apparently, I'm retro.

Because I've spent a good two or three hours on this website last night,
replaying old tv show theme songs,
and reminiscing about the Saturday mornings
spent in my pjs, with a bowl of cinnamon toast crunch
in front of the tv.

Good Memories.

And thank you You Tube
for letting me enjoy some of these shows again.

Digging up the Past

Jeremiah and I each have a box

filled with sappy odds and ends we've given each other over the years.
This weekend I went through those old keepsakes
looking for a couple things I'd like to use in an upcoming craft project

I spent two hours on Saturday night digging through
movie ticket stubs, valentine's cards, poems,
Christmas cards, pictures, encouraging notes,
love letters written in Spanish, email print outs, etc.

The mister actually saved far more than I had known (cute!)
and I found tons of stuff I didn't even remember making.

As I re-read the notes that Jeremiah and I had written to each other,
I cried like a baby.

Partly because I remembered that young, giddy love.
Partly because that love has grown and deepened.
And yet still remains giddy.
Partly because my dreams have become reality.

But mostly because,
they all point to the very Truth that:

God is so faithful.

Amen.

The Box

While starting to pack last night,
I found "The Box"

You know, that box you keep all those memories in
when you start dating someone?

My box is almost six years old.
And it's full of paperie from the very beginning.

Jeremiah and I stopped packing for a minute
and read an old email he sent me
in March of 2005.

He must have been ridiculously in love
because he used words like "dazzle."

Cheers to giddy memories.
And happy tears that come from finding
the box.

A Special Someone

I realize this is a ridiculous overload of pictures,
but I've been thinking about this pretty girl a lot lately.
And all these images have been flashing through my mind.
I used to refer to her as my twelve-year-old-best-friend,
but then she went and grew up.

She is wise beyond her years, insanely fun to hang out with
and such a loyal and loving friend.
I'm so thankful for her!

And can't wait to hang out in a couple weeks!

Pomp and Circumstance

From the looks of Facebook statuses all over the web this morning,
it seems everyone and their mom is graduating from college today.
Congratulations, you guys!!

It makes me remember this weekend last year
when Jeremiah and I were celebrating our own graduations.
Yes, you read right.
On the same day. At the same time.
Special, isn't it?

While I was snagging a Computer Science degree from Point Loma...
Husband(to-be, at that time) was taking home a Business degree from CSUSM,
with an emphasis in Accounting.Though we missed each others graduations,
we teamed up afterward to have dinner together with our familiesThinking back on that day,
I had already been done with school for six months.
I was already working full-time.
And I had already gotten over most of the "excitement"
of graduating from college.
Instead, I missed my friends
A lot.

And as happy as I am right now,
what they say is true:
College really is the time of your life.

Thanks for the memories, Loma.
And thanks for where I am today.

As I think of her...

Along with the tears, memories flood.
Memories I've captured here, and here, and here,
and here, and here, and here,and here, and here, and here.
And still many others that I've kept treasured in my inner being.

In November 2008, my Gram was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer
a vicious beast, a hungry aggressor.
I cried for days, and weeks, and months
at the thought of losing her
at the thought of our wedding without her.

For she and Papa have been at every event I can think of
from pre-school graduation, to elementary school award assemblies
from softball games and opening day, to birthday parties, to high school graduation.
Always cheering me on. Always telling me how proud she is.

I've spent countless afternoons at gram's
digging through her craft closet
and making something out of nothing on her kitchen table.
She taught me how to bake her special cookies
And how to sew simple pillows.
She taught me how to paint and bought me cases of supplies.
She stirred my creative soul.

By the grace of God and her insanely stubborn spirit,
she was able to escape ICU
and celebrate our wedding with us last May

Last night, she passed away.

And all of the different thoughts I've been wrestling with
over the last year and a half
flooded back into my mind:

What is death and illness?
Why is death and illness?
Did I take advantage of my time with her?
Did I learn from her? Pray for her? Share with her?
What does the Lord's goodness and mercy look like
in light of this situation?
How should I live, having known her?

And I take such comfort in knowing
that, yes, I did pray for her,
and share with her, and spend time with her, and learn from her.
And yes, the Lord's goodness is sovereign.
In His spirit, I find strength.

Thank you, Heavenly Father,
for the life of my grandma.
Thank you for the memories we created together
and for the lessons you've taught through her.

I miss you already, Gram. <3
And Papa, I'm praying for you.

Food's a Funny Thing

The funny thing is
my appetite changes as I reminisce about different memories.

If I'm thinking about my gram a lot, I crave McDonalds.
If I'm missing those good ol' high school days, I crave Red Robin.
If I'm feeling classy and adultish, I crave drinks and fondue at The Brig.
If I'm wishing I was out on the softball field, I crave Subway.

It's strange.
Yet fun.

But I'm pretty sick of craving Subway.
A girl can only eat so many sandwiches.

Blessed

Today is the two year anniversary of Crystal's passing. I didn't even know she had died until I was on Facebook this morning and saw the updated status of an old schoolmate. When I found out she had passed away, I googled her only to find that the car accident actually happened two years ago. We weren't good friends or anything, but we had all our classes together during middle school. I remember her. And I can see her smiley face when I say her name. As a sidenote here, I'm glad everyone is using Facebook now because this would not have gone un-noticed by all WPMS Alum if it happened now.

I read the article in the NC Times. Her car flipped over on the freeway. And I had a flashback. A flashback to my senior year in high school when my own car flipped over and landed on the hood. I put my pen down, closed my eyes and saw it all happen again. Slow-motion.

On that Thursday in September 2004, it actually felt like it was happening in slow-motion. And at the same time, it happened all two quickly to be frightening. I pulled out of Palomar and made a right onto Mission. As I approached the light, I began to get into the left lane to turn onto Las Posas. A young guy rearended my back passenger-side tire. My care jolted to the left, boucing off the center divide and into the pickup truck in the lane to my right. I bounced off the car too. And flipped. It felt like I was in the air for hours until I came crashing down on the driver's side door and window. I can still see the glass shattering and I can still hear the load boom. My car was lifted again and flipped in the air before landing on the hood. My little Civic stood strong. And I hung there, quite glad I had my seat belt on because that's what kept me from falling face-first into the asphalt.

I'm so lucky that I survived. Lucky that I wasn't injured. Lucky that insurance bought me a new car. And lucky that I was able to go back to Palomar the following week, to the tennis class where I met Jeremiah. Blessed.

Books. Learning. Memories.

I have plenty of books sitting on my shelf in my office. To be honest, I only use them occasionally, but when I do... it makes me smile.

Today I cracked open my Object-Oriented Software Engineering book to look something up. Sure, I probably could have Googled it just as fast, but I knew it was in my book. And opening up my book brought back a flood of memories. The highlighting, the underlining, and notes in the margins. The post-its. The diagrams. I know I'm sick, but ah! Even the smell of the book took me back to a couple places: Rohr Science. The practically isolated little beach I used to read my book on. My bedroom that I shared with Alana. Ah... memories.

I am obsessed with memories. Creating them. Remembering them. Scrapbooking them. Reliving them. I have such a sharp memory. I can't even imagine what it's like for people with Dementia or Amnesia. Or Alzheimer's. My memory is something I cherish and hold so closely to my heart.

Now back to the book.

I love it. I love books. I love studying. I love learning. Gosh it's ridiculous how much it made my day to simply pull an old book of the shelf. One day, when I have one whole room all to myself, i hope to fill it with a cozy chair, a beautifully jam-packed bookshelf and a side-table covered in fresh flowers, candles and well... the book of the day. Cheers to books. To learning. And to memories.

Gone.

Engagement.
Weddings.
Marriage.
Children. (yes, plural)
Grad school.
PHDs.
Promotions.
Traveling.
Credentialing.
Moving.
Graduating.
Making choices.
Working. Full Time.

Lives are changing. Everywhere. Too fast. It's okay if I change, but everything else can't change to. This is a bombardment of change. Too much change. Too quickly.

Gone are the days of
eating mud on the curb outside your house
watching morning cartoons in your jammies with a bowl of cereal
playing kickball with the neighborhood kids in the coldesac
hanging out with your friends all day long
high school sports
mid-day beach trips
summer vacations
roommates
late nights and sleepless weekends

Gone are those days.

And while I'm excited for the new days to come, my nostalgic soul is weeping and fighting every bit of it. At least today.

In the shade of that pepper tree

I had a meeting in another building this afternoon. I parked under a tree in the far corner of the parking lot, and the tears came. flooded.

Parking under a shady tree in the heat of a beautiful day brought back this one distinct memory for me. Very distinct, so much so that I dream it again every couple years.

When I was a couple years old, my mom would pick me up from pre-school and we'd bring McDonald's happy meals to the pool supply store on the blvd where my gram worked. To be honest, I'm not quite sure why this image is always so fresh in my head, but it is. It's burned in my memory, etched, engraved, highlighted, marked with stars! To me, this memory means family. It means sharing. It means love. It means three generations of ladies making memories together. And it makes me cry every time I think about it.

This memory gets me thinking of love. And the way I love my gram. I don't love her because we spend a lot of time together. I don't love her because we agree on everything or because we're like two peas in a pod. I simply love her because she first loved me. And I never got what the Bible meant by that until now. I love her because she first loved me.

So in honor of that memory, I made a quick stop at McDonalds on my way back to the office. And sure enough, I walked in to find a young girl eating happy meals with her grandma by the window.

What a blessing it's been to sit in the shade of that tree, strolling ever so slowly down memory lane. I'm so thankful for the memories I have with my gram.