childhood....

Glancing outside my office, I'm greeted by the dreary, dismal streets, glistening with the reflection of streetlights in the light rain, the darkness creeping at the early four o'clock hour. Suddenly my mind transports me back twenty years to the mid-summer days when the sun shone until far into the evening, fireflies danced on the air thick with humidity and the breeze was delectably tinged with the savory flavor of happiness. I envision myself and my brothers skipping around on our old slate patio, dancing to the tune of childhood with deliciously cold Popsicles dripping from our hands. I can hear the far-away drone of a plane flying overhead and the light chorus of birds chirping.
With a deep sense of longing, a part of me craves to return to then... A time of carefree delight, absolute glee and the notion of forever remaining in that era of endless summer. Flashlight tag and riding bikes through the meandering paths in the woods, backyard picnics and an untamed imagination.
To return to a time when our greatest fear was to be bored.

step...

So I've embarked on yet another adventure in my life - one that I hope will lead to success, friendship, new skills and increased confidence. Even before the wedding day came around, I was already contemplating how I would spend all my spare time that was at the time being consumed by all things wedding. Knowing my personality and that I'm a very go-go-go person, I was concerned that with the introduction of married life, I might find myself bored....
Thanks to a good friend and some great past experiences, I opted to embrace the opportunity when it presented itself to become a Pampered Chef consultant. I already have many of the products thanks to some successful hosting I'd done in the past, and it didn't take much to promote how great they are because they're performance speaks for themselves.
My first step as a consultant is to come up with my own story about why I joined Pampered Chef, what my life was like before joining, what I was most concerned about with joining and what I hoped joining would do for me and my life, so consider this practice...
Before joining Pampered Chef, I was obviously engaged and soon to be married. Three years out of college, I still maintain a hefty amount of student loans, I work full-time at a not-so-glamorous salary and now my new husband and I are looking to save for vacations, kids, and life in general. By joining Pampered Chef, I hoped to make that extra cash that could serve a variety of roles - pay off debt, go into savings and work as play money occasionally. I was mostly concerned that a.) I wouldn't find enough people to host shows for me and b.) that I wouldn't have the time to juggle a full-time job, the life of a newlywed, a social life AND Pampered Chef.
So far that is my story... While I am setting high expectations and hopes for myself with this, I don't think they will be hard to achieve as I've seen and heard so many other stories from other successful women in this business. I have been inspired and my hope is that my inspiration will push me onward and upward.

turning...

And so begins a new chapter.
The walk down the aisle, the first dance,
the honeymoon...now a recent memory.
Back to life, back to work, introduction to bliss.
Life's tasks take on a sweeter note because they're
done for you, with you, together.
How easily comfortable it is to fall into a
delectable routine that never abandons
a thought, a moment with you.
Suddenly we've found ourselves turning
the page so long anticipated.
Suddenly this new chapter brings with it
even more anticipations, dreams, wants, hopes...
Except now they are two merging into one.
One.

page...

Looking back through the pages of our story,
I see the beginnings of a forever far beyond
my imagination. At my most vulnerable, I took
a chance in letting my guard down,
opening the door to let you in -
your love, your tenderness, your perfection.
From that first chapter, I never could've
guessed how our story has begun to unfold,
but I can't wait to turn the next page.

look...

I look into your eyes and I see
visions of our future unfolding.
Years from now, still holding
hands and mirroring electric
smiles.
I see new dreams beginning and
old dreams coming true,
transforming into lifelong memories
that ebb and flow.
I see rambunctious toddlers
rambling through a lush green
yard, a red ball stark
against a perfectly blue
sky.
I see you and me together -
two characters caught in the
whimsy of a fairytale
that has only just begun.

wait...

Anxiously waiting,
fingers twitching,
toes tapping,
thoughts racing.
Constant glances
at the calendar
stir up a sigh of
frustration, swells
of anticipation, hope
for jubilation.
Desperate to reign
in wishing these
mediocre days away.
Slow and steady
wins the race
to the altar.

twidling...

My posts seem to be getting lazy... they keep waiting longer and longer to inspire me and it makes me wonder. Perhaps I'm just too busy and distracted or perhaps I'm just extremely focused. Thankfully, the wedding planning is slowing down. Most would probably think that as the wedding gets closer, the planning would speed up, but for now, we've encountered a lull and I'm not going to complain. Despite the occasional meeting and purchase here and there, it hasn't been wedding, wedding, wedding 24/7 for which I'm sure my fiance is thankful. I'm already anticipating that the last month or two before the big day will suddenly overflow with to-do's and must-buy's, but for now, we're really looking forward to enjoying our summer that is already quickly filling up. We have high aspirations to go kayaking, canoeing, plant a garden, make a weekend escape to somewhere not to far away, and simply enjoy time with friends and family in the delicious sunny warmth of the summer.

I can't help but swallow a lump of jealousy, though, as the summer brings with it a barrage of weddings before our own. Of course I'm happy for the happy couples... I'm just ready for my special day to be here. Perhaps some of the twinges of jealousy dwell in the knowledge that most of the weddings happening this summer are the culmination of engagements much shorter than our own. I was the first of four to get engaged on my father's side and yet I have three cousins wedding before me. I just accept that we have reached that age where everyone we know is either getting married or having babies. Patience is a virtue I have to pride myself on and I will simply hang on the cliche that the best is saved for last.

Despite all those thoughts, I know without a doubt that despite the other brides' confidences that they are marrying the most amazing man in the world.... I believe I in fact can honestly say the most amazing man in the world is indeed mine, and for him I can patiently wait until September.

my dear mother...

This coming Sunday is Mother's Day....I have so many thoughts about my mother, it's truly impossible to really put them all into words. In the last seven months, I have been amazed by my mother's strength, her faith, her courage, her determination, and her love. Our lives have definitely been taken on a roller-coaster ride, and none of us really knows when or where it's going to stop. But her faith is like her seatbelt - it surrounds and secures her no matter the twists and turns. I have certainly seen her in her moments of weakness when her fears of the future and the all-encompassing unknown overwhelm her and have gladly given her my shoulder to cry on as she has done for me and shared my tears with her. Despite it all, my mother has not hesitated to reach out to those that need help, support, or just a loving word. She faces each day with certain sureness that she is meant to.

My mother is possibly the bravest woman I have ever known. I can't even begin to imagine being in her shoes, but if I ever was, I would hope to endure it with the same grace, trust and hope that she has. I am so proud of my mother - so proud to call her mine - and hope she understands without a doubt how much her children love, honor and adore her.

stamp...

If you really care, just show it. Give a hug, send a card, hold a hand, reach out and give that physical touch that filters right down into the soul. I'm a big fan of sending cards, notes, letters... the kind you actually have to put in an envelope, postmark, stick a stamp on and throw in the mailbox. Why? It takes effort, thought, true emotions on paper and a vulnerability to let that other person read between the lines. Who doesn't enjoy getting a letter in the mail? Somehow finding an envelope - and an even more treasured surprise if it's a colored envelope - in the mailbox at the end of the day can immediately put a spring in your step and thrill anticipation right to the tips of your fingers as you dig in. Everyone can admit to knowing the delicious excitement a child feels when they receive a letter they get to keep all to themselves. That excitement stays with us, I think, as we grow up...if we let it. I've heard it said that there is an art to letter-writing. I think it's a passion one has to keep up like any hobby or skill.

spring...

The delicious nutty aroma of the
breathing forest floor dances
with the elusive sprightly raindrops.
Awakening life emerges in radiant
brilliance among the fallen
leaves and my heart struggles
to contain the thrill.
Birdsong harmonizes with the
symphony of the forest and a tune
near-forgotten churns in my soul.

Sir...

Appearing from the whispers
of dream wished upon in earnest,
standing before me like the
urban prince for whom I pined,
smiling with an honest sincerity
I doubted could be true,
holding out your hand to rescue
me from the torment of my loneliness,
bringing new meaning to
a lifelong future.

sinking....

So, what do I do now? I made what I feel like was my last attempt to touch base with someone who used to be one of my best and closest friends... Life has taken us both in different directions, down different paths and to different parts of the country. The separation began towards the end of college, and progressively thinned and stretched until now. I don't want to lose her friendship, but I feel like I already have. Most recently, I sent a message via Facebook to check up on her, see how life was treating her, how her recent trip to South Carolina (which I learned of only from Facebook-stalking) was, etc. It's been probably 4-5 days and I've heard nothing back...yet she's had time to update her photos and post multiple status updates. So my message was obviously ignored...and more than likely deleted. Now since my fiance and I got engaged, I've been constantly going back and forth between whether I invite this person who I haven't physically spoken to in over a year, haven't seen in over two years and haven't heard a peep from otherwise in months.... If I did invite her, would she even come? It's frustrating being the only one trying to keep a relationship above water.

tangent...

My conscience has been nagging at me to get a new post up... I feel like I don't have anything really revolutionary or enlightening to say, not that I assume my other posts really are all that influential. As seems to be the trend lately, my emotions are in constant flux... Good days, bad days, lethargic days, apathetic days. Today is Good Friday and I feel like there should be some emotion behind that fact for me, but instead I feel this blank void. Some days, the anger and misunderstanding gets the best of me and all I see is gray and blue instead of bright colors. My mother, with whom I live currently until my wedding day in September, is very religious and has scripture verses framed in various places around the house. This morning, my eyes lingered a little longer on the verse that says, '"I have plans for you," says the Lord. "Plans to prosper you and not to harm you."' I found myself choking back a laugh. What plans? Where are those plans? When will they come to be, because right now I don't see how those plans are in progress. We are blessed to have such a strong, close, loving family and I do sincerely think of that as a blessing from God. I don't not believe. The verse from Psalm 23 echoes frequently in my mind and I hold it very close to my heart because it offers more comfort. "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil for Thou art with me." I am even more blessed to have found a wonderful, caring, compassionate, sympathetic man to lean on, to hold my hand, to help me see the light at the end of the tunnel when life's toils are clouding my better judgment. This is such a convoluted, transition time full of change, unknowns, and happiness contorted with the throes of grief. I'm not ashamed to say that I am angry sometimes. Some days I just want to disappear. Other days I want to run somewhere where there is no one else and just scream. Other days I am so overwhelmed with joy for my upcoming wedding and marriage that I can hardly contain myself. I am lucky. I am blessed. I am much better off than so many other people in the world, and sometimes it takes just saying that for me to remember it. "Life isn't fair." - one of my father's most common responses to us when we'd complain. "Life is beautiful" too. "Life is a miracle." "The gift of life."

When we used to eat family dinners together on Sunday afternoon after church, I recall a phrase my father always said when praying before the meal. "Thank you for life, and for health, and for strength."

Yes.

tech...

The ongoing benefits of technology never cease to amaze. As much as sometimes we may not want to succumb to the convenience, maybe even the sheer laziness, that technology can foster, sometimes we find ways to use it to our honest benefit.

This is truly the year for weddings... I'm sure everyone went through that period in life where everyone they knew and their neighbor was getting married. It has probably shifted in age as time has gone on, but inevitably everyone will experience that one year where they were invited to a million weddings. It's a running joke now in my office - there are so many girls engaged that it's almost unfortunate for someone else to happily 'join' our club because it's to the point that they just get chalked up to a number... another punch line in an ongoing joke. Including me, there are 9 engaged girls in my office. If that's not crazy enough, two of my college friends are getting married this year - this month, actually (lucky them!). Oh, and four of my cousins are getting married, too... which brings me to my point.

Three of my four cousins getting married this year are on my father's side and all live in the midwest - specifically the Illinois/Michigan area. To limit time and travel for those invited, one of my aunts has decided to throw a joint bridal shower for us brides. Being the odd bride out living in Massachusetts, and since every spare penny I have is literally going toward my wedding fund, there is no feasible way I'll be able to fly myself out to participate in said shower. However, thanks to the constant development of technology, we've decided to have a Skype Shower! My mother, sister-in-law and I will be able to skype from my fiance's house while everyone else is at my grandmother's condo in Michigan. Not only will it give us a chance to catch up and see each other open gifts, but that side of the family will get to meet the newest addition - Henry Jacob, who is now over a month old, and they'll get to actually meet my fiance. Other than the aunts and uncles who traveled out for my father's funeral 6 months ago (to the day), the cousins on that side haven't had the joy of meeting the most wonderful man in the world (although I may be biased... I'm sure the other brides think the same about their fiances).

So although technology allows us to sit on our butts the majority of the day, moving only to lift a finger to change the channel, turn out the lights, start our cars, order delivery dinner, and even get a degree for goodness sake, sometimes it really has its honest-to-goodness benefits.

cry...

Another day of tears at the office. I stumbled across the wedding photo album of a friend on Facebook and of course since I have wedding on the brain constantly to the point it's almost nauseating, I had to page through. Before I knew it, I was staring at the sensitive moment when the father of the bride is removing her veil and planting a gentle kiss on her cheek before handing her off to her waiting future husband... Uncontrollable tears welled up in my eyes not only at the tenderness captured in the photo, but more so at the obvious sadness that I would not have that same tender moment. Yes, my grandfather is walking me down the aisle and yes, I expect he'll offer a peck on the cheek before handing me off to my own waiting Prince Charming, and yes I believe that my father will there for it all in spirit....but none of that is quite the same as a girl having her own father give her away. It is a moment I covet with a deepening pain so striking I can't even describe it. I felt the same stark emptiness when I was shopping with my mother for her mother-of-the-bride dress.... She will also be missing that detail of having her husband with her at her only daughter's wedding. I know my entire family will endure the day with a certain sadness despite the joy I know I'll feel above everything else.... It is something I think of often and with great difficulty.

dinner...

So I'm really not trying to ruminate on doom and gloom and focus in on the obviously absent part of my life....but I realized midway through the day today that tonight, when Dan and I join my mom and his parents for dinner tonight at a prospective rehearsal dinner location, it's going to be one of the first events in regards to wedding planning where my dad will be noticeably not there. I've been blinking back tears and swallowing down a persistent lump in my throat all day.... Maybe I'm making too big a deal of it, and I've already vowed to put it out of mind as soon as we get to the restaurant, but it's just one of those things that I think will always be in the back of my mind.

On my drive home from work last night, it sort of occurred to me that I hadn't really thought about my dad in a little while...and for a moment, I was overwhelmed with a pang of guilt. Did that make me a bad person? Or did it just mean that I was moving on? Was it too soon to begin moving on? Who really knows.

The internet has really been a valuable resource as far as being able to connect to other brides that are enduring this same bittersweet experience... planning the most momentous day of their lives all the while knowing one of the most traditional details won't be there. I've heard lots of different stories about other girls who've lost their father, whether recently or in the past, and the pain is still the same. So many different ideas of how to remember and symbolize that person. My own ideas that I thought were good at the time have slowly evolved into more subtle additions to our big day. I still plan to recognize, remember and honor my father, but in a way that will hopefully bring the least amount of pain... because I know he'd want that. He wouldn't want me to be sad on the best day of my life.

This morning I was walking the dog through the woods, conscious of the fact that I could actually go around the whole circling path without seeing snow...and it was like my dad was there with me. This was the same walk he always took every morning up until that very last day.

In the last 5 1/2 months, we've all gotten a lot stronger. I admitted to my fiance today that I don't worry about my mom as much as I had at first...the concern is still most assuredly there, but I feel like I can finally be confident in knowing she's going to be ok. We all continue to have those hard days where we cry for no particular reason, but we're all going to be ok. I do think about her getting a job, when she'll start looking, what she'll find... I wish I could protect her. The roles are so ironically reversed.

So tonight, I'll put a smile on, enjoy the experience for what it is - a time to enjoy each other's company while also looking forward to the special event that still seems so far away. I will continue to be strong.

parallel...

Yesterday was a truly ironic sequence of parallels. The poignant, undeniable reality of how precious life is couldn't have been any more clear. My brother and sister in law welcomed their first baby into the world, which in and of itself is a miracle - childbirth always is. It's amazing to see a new being - a new life - come into the world and take its first breaths. By the time I got to hold him, he was just a little over an hour old. His eyes were still scrunched into that newborn squint and he had that addictive newborn smell to his soft skin.

As my mother and I were driving to the hospital, I was suddenly aware that this new life was delivered at the same hospital where my father was pronounced dead. Although it may seem morbid to some that I would draw this connection, it holds so much significance for me... New life is arriving where old life has passed. Walking from the parking lot to the hospital entrance, I lightheartedly joked with my mother that for once she was walking faster than I was. I could tell that she was doing her best to contain herself from breaking into a full sprint through those sliding glass doors and up to the maternity ward to hold her new and first grandbaby in her arms. I smiled inwardly, saving the tears for later, so happy to see my mother so happy, to hear her excitement thrill in her voice.

When we finally got to Amy's room, we quietly knocked on the door and waited for Phil to pull aside the curtain. I was almost overwhelmed by how different he seemed. He was standing just a little taller, his chest was proudly puffed out and yet his voice was so quiet. He was a father. He now knows exactly what it was like for my father to watch as each of us were delivered into the world. He now knows what it's like to immediately fall in love with something with such a deep, desperate affection that it almost hurts.

We walked in and saw Amy serenely holding her baby to her chest as he quietly sucked on her index finger, his puffy eyes just barely open. And then we talked about his name. Henry Jacob. I still tear up hearing it and probably will for a while. My father's namesake. It's so bittersweet because I know how proud he would be, but I so desperately wish he could be here to see this miracle....but I know he's watching from heaven. Amidst all the congratulatory texts and phonecalls I received as a new auntie, one particularly stands out. My aunt said to me in a text that she was so happy for my mother - that she "had a new Henry to love"....and it's so true. We all do.

Mom held Henry for a while, and it was so precious to see her coo and smile at this beautiful new baby boy who so quickly and unknowingly stole all of our hearts. Finally she passed him to me and I was able to revel in the joy of holding my nephew. It was like time flashed before my eyes and I could see him running around the house, wreaking havoc on all things breakable, pushing toy cars along the floor making 'vroom vroom' noises. Thinking on it now, I can't help but draw such a vivid contrast from this baby's soft, warm, unblemished skin compared to the last time I held my father's hand - cold, calloused, lifeless. Although there is still that sadness, it is slowly overshadowed by the joy we have all found in this new life.

Finally, we hesitantly moved toward the door, knowing mother, father and baby needed time to rest and enjoy just being their own family. As we drove back to the house, I realized that it was Tuesday.... Dad had passed away on October 5, 2010.... Tuesday. For me, all these parallels just prove that although he's gone, our father is living on through us and through the values we instill on our growing families. Henry Jacob is living proof of this.

delivery...

My immediate family is in a unique position right now where we're anxiously waiting the arrival of our nephew! My brother and sister-in-law are expecting their first baby boy any day now - her due date is tomorrow, but based on the sounds of things, I have a feeling she's going to be late. My mother and I were talking about the baby the other day and how for so long - nine months actually - we've been talking and talking and talking about the day when Little Knapper (as I like to call him until his given name is revealed) will grace us and the rest of the world with his presence, and all of a sudden it's here! It's like we've been waiting for it for so long that it almost seems like we'll be waiting forever, but then in the blink of an eye so long seems so short.

I'm not a parent yet, obviously, so I can't even begin to relate to the excitement, anticipation, trepidation and pure joy my brother and his wife must be going through right now as they wait.... But on the same level, I am a bride to be, and by the time my wedding comes around, I'll have waited much longer than nine months. It is my own baby in a way because I think about it every day, I work hard so that it can be absolutely perfect, I pine and pine and pine for it until I feel like it will never come. I'll have waited my whole lifetime for that perfect man to complete me and make me the happiest woman in the world. Much like a parent with their child, every bride thinks her wedding is the best.... I have found the love of my life, my second half, the incarnation of my dreams. Of course I think our wedding will be the best because it's ours.

So as we continue to wait for Little Knapper to join us in this world, I continue to count down to the day that will begin the rest of my life....

spirit....

You could say I'm on the fence about ghosts. I like to say that I don't really believe in them, but I can honestly admit there have been times I've been scared of the dark...and whatever lurks within that darkness.

Last September, for my work, I was writing and editing articles about haunted destinations in the United States for the October newsletter. Obviously to understand why they were deemed haunted, I had to do some research on supernatural evidence. One such source described the occurrence of orbs. Orbs are the whitish circular shadows that appear on photos post-development. The critics could argue that they're just dust particles from the lens, but believers attest to the theory that they are the physical evidence of the spiritual existence. That same month, my mother and I were looking at churches to host the wedding ceremony. Like the organized wedding planner that I am, I brought along my camera to take detailed pictures of the buildings so I could refer to them later. One such picture taken at an old 1800's Congregational Church in the center of Uxbridge displayed a whole collection of orbs all around the back of the sanctuary. Completely freaked out that this church was haunted - obviously a convert of my own research - I vowed not to walk down that aisle.

Now, just about everyone knows that my father passed away last October - not long after that church experience - from a massive heart attack. I've had a few unexplained experiences since then including an epiphany for my next story/book that I don't doubt were him.

Just last week, I received a picture from my grandfather in the mail from our birthday party in December - my birthday is the 27th and his is the 28th, so it's been a tradition for us to celebrate together. The picture is Dan, my fiance, and I standing next to Grandpa and Grandma. And just above my head to the right is one single ghostly white orb. Maybe for my own comfort, for the simple assurance that he's still watching over me, I like to believe it's my father's spirit.

valentine

So today is Valentine's Day. I hate to call myself a hypocrite, but up until the actual day, I go on and on about how much I hate the holiday. It's so commercialized. The greeting cards are marked up, flowers are marked up, chocolates are probably marked up... all so that men and women around the world can give in to their guilt-driven obligation to tell their significant other how much they love them because they have to. How romantic. I think it's a silly holiday; I would much rather be surprised by a spur-of-the-moment, heart-felt card and bouquet of flowers on a day when I least expected them. If you say I love you on a day when you have to, does it really have the same meaning? So these are the thoughts and rants that run through my head all the days leading up to Valentine's Day.

The morning of Valentine's Day, I got a text from my fiance at 7am saying 'Will you be my Valentine? I love you. :)' Of course I melted. At work, my office is right next to the reception desk, so I can see everyone that comes in. With every bouquet of roses that came prancing through the door, I have to admit I felt a slight pang of jealousy. But I wasn't expecting anything because I specifically asked for nothing. When the secretary brought a box of ProFlowers into my office and set it on my desk, I couldn't help but break into a smile. No matter how much we say we don't want them, every girl loves flowers. And who wouldn't swoon over a message like this:

"I am the luckiest man in the world because I have you. I can't wait for September 23rd when we get to say those two special words to one another. But for now, three will have to do. I love you."

So all that talk about hating Valentine's Day.... I still think it's silly. But I'm really excited about dressing up and going out to dinner tonight. :)

whisper…

Like an artist with her brush,
A carpenter with his chisel,
Or a sculptor with a ball of clay…

What I see when I look in your eyes
Gives me the courage to show not only
The world, but also myself that I
Am not only good enough, but that
I am good. Your love makes me
Want to be better.

You are my flowing inspiration.

impatient...

Waiting. Tapping my feet, twiddling my thumbs, counting down the days on the calendar like the seconds on the clock. The panic-ridden dreams have already begun - the limousine breaks down, the bouquets have the wrong flowers, we forget the marriage license, I realized at the end of the aisle I've forgotten my garter which satisfies both something old and blue so my chances of luck are completely shot, another wedding is taking place at the same church at the same time. Considering I spent every day thinking about something pertaining to our upcoming wedding, its no surprise that my subconscious is working overtime.

I see friends of mine ridden with excitement as their big day seemingly races forward while my day creeps in the shadows. Not even in the shadows - in the cobwebs in the corner of the shadows. I see my little ticker on TheKnot every day... 225 days sound so incredibly far away. I know it will be here before I know it, and the actual day will be this whirlwind leaving us exhausted and wondering what actually happened. The little details will go unnoticed and in the end...we will be happily married.

But for now, I continue to wait.

friends...

I've come to a conclusion about friends in the context of wedding planning and ultimately the dreaded guest list. Sometimes it takes life-changing events to really help identify who true friends are. I might be in an interesting circumstance here where my wedding is following my father's passing, and I find myself constantly assessing the behavior and relationships of those I consider friends. It's pretty much a daily occurrence where I sit down and think 'should I invite them?' I mean, certain people have made it abundantly clear where we stand on their importance-ometer....

It's probably the same handful of questions that every bride faces up until the day of her wedding, and possibly after. I don't want to be haunted by the fact that I invited this friend over this cousin, or this aunt and not that coworker. In the end, I know it's my wedding and I have every right to make the decisions I do because I want it that way, but just seeing those words - I want it that way - conjures a vision of a frilly, pink-smocked girl standing in a grocery store stomping her white patent-leather Mary Janes on the speckled linoleum because she can't have a piece of candy.

I mean, how far can we brides really take 'it's my day and I'll do what I want.' My mother and I have come to an impass on the topic of the receiving line. After enduring the multiple hours in line after my father's memorial, I simply can't stomach the idea of volunteering myself for something so awful. And I said so in no uncertain terms, but because it's important to show the guests their presence is appreciated, I've been told we have to do something. So we're going to have to be creative...

But back to guests...and friends. I don't want to make people feel badly for not successfully landing on 'the list' but honestly some people have to understand the reason why. If I haven't physically seen you in over a year and we've chatted via text maybe three times in the last six months and I'm always the one initiating the communication, what am I honestly supposed to think.

So, in the end.... I hate the be the brat in the white patent leather sling backs with a bouquet of roses in my hand, but it's my wedding dammit...and I'll do what I want.

step...

I've decided that instead of moping, mourning what can't be changed, I'm going to face this future of mine head on. Will I still grieve? Of course. This is inevitable. But there is more than one way to grieve. I have so much to look forward to, number one being my wedding to an amazing, caring, loving man. For a while there, this wedding and all the planning leading up to it was the only thing holding me together. But it's time to face the truth of life and although there will be hard times, tears, pain, and everything else that comes with the imperfection of humanity, happiness lies beneath it all. Happiness is not only an emotion...it's a state of mind. If we determine to be happy, we will be no matter what obstacles roll across our paths.

I'm tired of being angry, of feeling bitter, of feeling like the world owes me something because something was taken from me. I can only be happy for the blessings I was afforded with and from my father during the time he was alive; I have to cherish these things and forge ahead as I know he would want me to. I am who I am much to the credit of my father, and I'm not going to let him down by allowing the simple facts of life affect my determination to be and do everything I am capable of. I am strong. I am determined. I have heart, ambition, drive. Words I can recall most clearly from my father were those he spoke when we'd whine about having to do something we didn't want to do. "I didn't ask you if you wanted to," he would say. Life doesn't pause to ask us if we want it to go a certain way, follow a certain path. If it did, we might not be the people we are today and that could be a bad thing.

We take one step in front of the other because we know we have to if we are going to get anywhere. Of course I believe that God directs the course of my life and I trust him to lead me in the direction I'm meant to go...but that doesn't mean sitting idle and expecting the world to move along without me having to put some effort into it. After all, the priests carrying the Arc of the Covenant had to step into the rushing River Jordan before God parted the waters and afforded them safe passage across dry ground. We have to have that faith to take the first step. Walking blindly can be the most frightening thing in the world - I can only imagine the fear that must race through my mother's veins when she contemplates the unexpected mystery of her future and I would be lying if I said I didn't fear for her as well. But, my brothers and I are strong. And we will get through this together as a family. Because we can.

new...

You always hear people say with relief that they can start with 'a clean slate' with the arrival of the New Year. What does that really mean? It's obviously relative to each individual, but I can't help think about this 'clean slate' and what it means for me.

Looking back, 2010 was a year of momentous occasions spanning both ends of the spectrum. From my engagement to my amazing fiance to my father's passing, and many - although overshadowed - events in between, 2010 will certainly be a year that I will not soon, not ever, forget despite the fact that the half of me suffering from a broken heart partly wishes I could.

One of the things that hit home for me this specific New Years is that time just keeps marching on. I know we hear it everywhere, especially the older we get, but it really does. Time has no concept of grief, happiness, boredom or any other emotion that seems to somehow feel the manipulations of time's incessant marching. I distinctly remember the day my father died, my fiance and I were sitting in the waiting room in the hospital and the Reverend from my childhood church was sitting with us and he was reminiscing about his own father's passing. "You just want to run out and tell the world to stop!" he said. There is that part of me that desperately wants that. That day was literally a day that stood still...but only for us. Time was a second thought. We must have sat in that hospital room around my father for three hours....and it still doesn't feel like it was long enough. I still feel like I didn't get to say what I wanted to.

But on the other hand of all that, I desperately want time to speed up...so that I can wake up to my wedding day, don my gorgeous wedding gown and walk down the aisle to the man - and the future - of my dreams. I'm wishing time away as I write this, looking outside seeing the bare tree branches and the snow-covered sidewalks; wishing for Spring and Summer and Fall; wishing for this moment I've envisioned for so long to come true before my eyes.

So my clean slate? I guess I'm not wishing for a clean slate. Instead I'm wishing for a time machine to take me to two different places at once but to say the exact same thing.... "I love you."