Stars, thinking, and being weird

I saw a shooting star tonight.

I've been sitting on my deck at night, sitting back and looking at the stars. Thinking....

Thinking about Keri and how I wonder if she's just on the other side of the sky looking at all of us. Thinking about how long mourning and grief last. Thinking about why I am having such a hard time praying with an open heart again. Thinking about that scene from "The Lion King" when Mufasa explains to Simba that stars are our ancestors who've gone before us and wondering how true it is. Thinking about how much I just need to talk with her, hear her voice, feel her hug, hear her laugh.

And while I was thinking about all of this, I look up and see a shooting star. A green shooting star. Green-Keri's favorite color. Maybe she really is just on the other side of the sky looking.

I've been thinking about how here we are, eight months after the worst day. I look at everyone who's living and wonder sometimes how they go on with their life like this big thing never happened. How are they not consumed with the thoughts of memories and missed memories,  the overwhelming flood of emotion that pours through the gaping hole in your heart. Seriously I think this and then wonder what is wrong with me?

I know and acknowledge that I'm not the same person I was before December 9th. I'll probably never be like I was before that day. I was so filled with hope that I never ever ever ever EVER thought for one second, even in those last months, weeks, days...hours......Ever ever ever gave up hope that things wouldn't work out how we wanted it to. But then it didn't, and as I lost my sister, I lost my hope filled heart. I went from being an idealist to a realist.

I've been thinking something is majorly wrong with me. I go through the motions of life but it's not as fun.

Then I realize, while life goes on, as it should, grief and mourning doesn't stop after a certain day or time and that's ok. It's ok to still get sad, to get emotional, to want to be alone, to want to be surrounded by people, to want to talk, to not want to talk, to feel guilty, to feel lost, to feel weird, to feel like others think I'm being weird because honestly I am, to  want to get away just to want to be back home.

So, really, please be patient with me and anyone else who is still grieving and mourning. Try to be understanding that our life has been altered in a way that can't be repaired. Don't run away from us, just give us a little space if we need it, but please be there for us. We do love you and appreciate you for it more than you know, even if we are being weird.

I stopped talking to God

Confession time: I stopped praying as much as I used to before December 9th.

It's not something I did on purpose. It's not because I'm mad at God. It's not because my faith has wavered (if anything it's gotten stronger). It's not because I don't believe God will hear or answer our prayers.

For 798 days, I prayed so hard that I felt like my soul would rip itself out of my body. Every moment I was alone, I would pray. Even when people were around, I prayed. Even in the busy moments and all of the quiet moments, I prayed. Have you ever prayed that hard? You know what I mean, when you pray so deep from your soul that you can feel a tug deep in your stomach and straight from your heart, like it's being pulled out of your body and heading straight into God's hands and ears.

My faith, my love for God was and has been deepened over the past couple of years. I couldn't be more thankful for that. Although we mourn, I've seen some of the greatest things happen during this time. I've seen people learn about and start to follow Jesus. I've seen selfless acts of kindness happen. I've seen people change their way of living to spend more time with friends and loved ones because they know how precious time is. I've seen people unite to show support and love for people they don't even know because they know how unfair some situations are. God is good all of the time! And He has shown me that, even though I mourn.

But I stopped talking to God...

And I finally realized it and once I realized it, I also realized why.

I stopped talking to God because I want to talk to Keri. Keri is my go-to person. The one who could always say the perfect thing to make me feel better, to make me realize what decisions I needed to make, to cheer me up, to make me see the positive side of any negative situation. Everything that has happened to me over the past 169 days has been hard. Even the good things have been hard. For 30 years, she heard the good, the bad, and the ugly of me. So, it's hard to have bad days and not get to talk to her about it. But it's even harder to have great days that I just want to share with her because those great days and moments are what are making me happy and helping me get through the worst thing of my life.

I know not talking to God isn't the answer to anything. Technically I still do. I still pray, but not like I was for those 798 days. My body, my soul, and my mind were and are still kind of exhausted. This is no excuse, and I realize that it's not a good one even if it was. A lot of time, my prayer is simply, "God, you know what's on my heart and mind today. Amen." Sometimes, it's just hard to pray...to talk with Him. I don't have the words, but I know He's there and I know He understands me right now.

Before anyone suggests that I talk to Keri, don't worry, I do. This is what I normally look like

Every time you see me with my eyes closed, facing the sun, I'm talking to her. She is the sun after all. I talk to her in the busy moments and the quiet moments, the happy days and the sad days, when I'm driving or hiking or just any time my heart feels it. I talk to Keri so I can talk to God because I know He hears me too. Doing so helps my heart.

I can't wait until the day I get to talk to them both face to face. That will be the best day ever! So, until then I'll just keep talking to them both. :)

new NEW normal

Yesterday marked 3 months....90 whole days of my sister being in another place. 92 days since I got to talk to her and cut up with her and be that "normal" we had grown accustomed to over her 2 year 2 month journey.

It's crazy how as you are growing up and becoming an adult life can feel "normal". Most of you probably feel that you have a "normal" life right now. People have their "normal" routines, their "normal" weekend plans, their "normal" daily activities.

But..... Then when something like cancer comes along, your "normal" changes. You get used to the "new normal" of seeing your loved one without hair and with new scars. Your "new normal" includes conversations you NEVER want to have with someone who is supposed to be your Louise when you are an old gray Thelma. Your "new normal" is seeing people rally around your loved one in the biggest display of love, support, and encouragement that you've ever seen in your life. Your "new normal" is savoring every single minute spent with your most favorite person because you, in your early 30s, have realized how precious every single second with someone you love is.

As I type this, I remember my last "new normal" time spent with Keri. Our last sister time together alone. Just me and Keri. Conversations about life. Plans for the future. Worries of the future. Philosophical discussions. Promises made. We should've been talking about who I have a crush on or ideas for Christmas lesson plans with our students. We should've been talking about what we were going to do during winter break with the kids or going Christmas shopping....anything that would've been "normal" 2 years and 2 months prior. But instead, it was those things. And honestly, I'm glad we had our conversation. We were those old gray women talking, just in 30 year old bodies.

But then IT happened. 2 years and 2 months and the only way God could heal her was to take her to Heaven. BOOM! Now you have a "new NEW normal". But this "new NEW normal" sucks! There's no way to sugar coat it because it does. No more phone calls. No more text messages. No more sleepovers. No more conversations. No more planning together. No more sister time....

You know what makes it even worse? Is this "new NEW normal" is actually more like a vicious cycle that is on repeat every day or every time you feel like are back to those "normal" days 2 years and 5 months ago and go to text or call her something funny. With this "new NEW normal" you get to feel those raw emotions hit you like a wrestler doing a clothesline to your throat. You get to feel that stab in your heart, punch in the gut, every time you remember what you wish you could forget.......what you wish wasn't real.

With this "new NEW normal", some days I can make it the 3 feet to my bathroom after my alarm goes off before I think about...most mornings it's as soon as the alarm goes off. Or if someone sends me a text message, my first thought is that it's Keri, then I feel the clothesline, stab, and punch. My "new NEW normal" is daily torture right now.

Don't get me wrong, I'm still living life and probably making the most out of it more now that I might have a few years ago. It's just not as fun without Keri.....and, to me, it probably never will be. But slowly, slowly, slowly, SLOWLY, I'll learn to live with this "new NEW normal" because I guess that's just part of life right? I really hate "new NEW normal".

The Sun and the Moon

                                 Photo courtesy of http://www.wallpaperhere.com/Sun_and_Moon_15395

I love you

My sister is the Sun. The day she was born, she brought the light of the sky with her. Beams of light shone out of her our entire lives. She always brought sunshine to everyone with her cheeriness, her smile, her laugh, her brilliant heart for others. She brought the Light of Jesus to many people, especially later in her life. She is the Sun.

like the moon loves the sun

I am the Moon. On the day Keri was born, I received the light I needed to shine in my life. She gave me the light to be who I was born to be. She provided the light of encouragement to do the things I needed or wanted to do. She gave me the light I needed to feel important whether I was in a "new", "waxing", "waning", or "full" phase of life. I am the Moon, and, like all things in the dark, I rely on the Sun for my light.

because the moon gets its light from the sun

On the day Keri went to Heaven, I saw the Sun shine and her smile at me as she passed into God's arms. That was A Sweet Gift from Keri . Since that day, I've been in the dark. I am the Moon after all, and I belong in the night. Without Keri, my light source is gone. When you lose someone who is your very best friend, someone who is your person, someone who you love beyond the realm of this world, you have no choice but to be in the dark. Honestly, that's how I feel a lot of the time. Some days, I really just want to yank my comforter over my head and stay curled up in a ball mourning all day. Some days I force a smile at people and pretend like I am actually there, but I'm only there in body; my mind is somewhere else. Some days, I want to really be the Moon when it is in its "new" phase, when no one can see me, even though we know it's there. I guess I am in the "new" phase for real. Dark. Lost in the sky. Missing the light.

The moon can't shine without the sun

I don't feel the same without the Sun. People tell me I never will and I know I won't. I know that I can't. How can you when you've lost that light? There have been very few days since December 9th that the real Sun has shone; it's been so cloudy and sad, almost like God is mourning with us. When the Sun does shine, my heart, my soul, my body, and my mind have to stop, stretch out my arms and soak the Sunshine in. (If you've ever seen The Odd Life of Timothy Green then you know what I look like. You should do it some time.) Soaking up the Sun is comforting because the Sun gives me that warm feeling of love that I miss. The Sun gives me a hug.  The Sun makes me miss my Sun even more. I miss our talks, our texts, our jokes, our time together, our hugs and kisses, our laughs together. I miss telling her the exciting things that are happening and talking about the things that scare me. But even though I miss my Sun so much, soaking up the Sun gives me hope for the future and a glimpse of Heaven.

You're my sun

Although right now is dark, I know it won't last forever. Something you don't realize about the Sun is that although for 30 years it gave the Moon light, it also put that light inside the Moon's heart and soul. Just because the Sun is gone, doesn't mean the light is completely gone either. The Sun gave us all a gift to go out and spread that light to others. We are all here to be the Sun for someone else.

Ephesians 5:8 For you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Live as children of light

My Sun changed my life for the better because of the light she gave me. My Sun taught me how to keep shining, even when it's hard. My Sun showed me how to love others and be loved by others. My Sun helped me be the person I am.  My Sun still encourages me to keep pushing through these dark times because eventually a new phase in my life will come along. And I'll smile because I had the Sun and the Sun loved me, so her light still shines.

So I shine  

Waves and Bear Hunts

I've never liked the ocean. It's deep. It's scary. It's constantly changing. Although the ocean brings destruction, tragedy, and loss to thousands of people each year, it also brings beauty and beautiful things are found all around it, in it, and above it,

Funny how life is so much like that. Even funnier how much grief is like that. Funny isn't even the word I mean, maybe I mean ironic?

A couple of months before the worst day of my life, Keri had started singing "Going on a Bear Hunt" with the kids. We watched a video on YouTube and the kids love it because of all of the motions and repetition of the song. Primarily the parts that says, "Can't go over it, can't go under it, we have to go through it."

Again, funny (not funny) how much life and grief is like that song.

I've seen many things about how grief is like ocean waves. I may have even posted one. The thing is, it's so true. At some points, you feel like you are surfing or boogie boarding on top of the wave: "normal", smiling, happy, laughing. But then the wave gets too big or too strong and reminds you of its power and knocks you off of that surf board. Suddenly, you are pulled back into that deep, dark place in the ocean of grief. You can't breathe. You feel the salt water on your face from the tears that ripple up through your soul and out your eyes. Your stomach churns just like the under current and makes you want to just curl up and hide in the dark again.

"Can't go over it, can't go under it, we have to go through it."

The waves subside and we pull ourselves back up on our surfboards of sunshine as we remember the fun times, the happy memories, the big, big smiles that warmed our hearts. And for a while, we feel "normal" again, we smile, we laugh, we maybe even have moments where we are happy. Then we know the currents and waves begin to build back up, and we know we'll get knocked off again in the vicious cycle of life and grief.

I hate the ocean. It's deep (sometimes it feels too deep to bear). It's scary (sometimes it makes you feel like a little kid afraid of the dark again). It's constantly changing (my emotions are as waving as the grief itself).

But like I said, there is also beauty. There is beauty in knowing that not one unkind word was ever spoken about my sister. There is beauty in the love and support shown from family, friends, and even people you don't even know because they knew how wonderful she is. There is beauty in the stories that people tell when remembering her and how she touched their lives because "That's our Keri". There is beauty in the laugh of my favorite Littles when I tell them a funny story about their mama from when we were little kids because I see her smile and hear her giggle. There is beauty knowing that Keri lead and continues to lead people to Christ by the way she lived every single moment of her life. The most beautiful thing is knowing that one day we will see each other again in Heaven.

So, although the loss is real and deep and scary. "Can't go over it," 
And the grief is overwhelming sometimes like the ocean waves.  "Can't go under it"
There is still beauty around it, in it, and above it. "We just have to go through it!"

A sweet gift from Keri

I miss my sister every day. I just can't even describe the hole I feel in me from her not being here.

I honestly don't think people realized how close Keri and I are. I say "are" because even though she's not here, she is coming to me in my dreams, in things I see, in things I hear. I can't explain it, but I'm thankful for it. But I really wish people understood that Keri and I were "soul" mates. There's no doubt in my mind, God wove us from the same thread before he placed us in two bodies. Maybe that's why I feel so much like my insides have been ripped out of my body. But I have some peace from her sweet gift to me, and from when she is in my dreams.

So what is my sweet gift from her? A few hours before Keri went to Heaven, I was able to spend some time with her, holding her hand, talking to her, reading scripture to her, telling her how much I love her, and kissing her forehead. In that darkest time, on the worst day of my life, I told her I just wanted her to open her eyes and to see her smile her big smile again so I knew she was ok.






A few hours a later, I was asleep in the waiting room in a chair. I could hear the people in there with us, so I guess I was really resting. My eyes were closed and all of a sudden it felt like I was being held/hugged (like if you are holding a toddler who's asleep on your chest). And  it was like the sun came out from a cloud shining on my face. But in the light I could see Keri's face as clear as if she was standing there. She was smiling! She was smiling her big, big, BIG smile at me! It only lasted for a few seconds (maybe 15 seconds if I'm wishful thinking), and then I felt the hug slip away and the face fade away. At the exact second the hug and the face was completely gone, my brother-in-law let us know that the journey had ended and a new one had begun for Keri.

I still tear up thinking about that moment because there are so many emotions that come to me. Of course the overwhelming devastation of her really being gone, but more importantly, that gift! The gift of her smile letting me know she IS ok. It wasn't exactly the way I may have wanted it because I want her here, but she and God blessed me with that peace of seeing her smile and knowing she is ok.


I honestly guess I share this because I want people to know that even though it feels terrible, there is some peace in the bad moments. Because I want people to know that you can be that close to someone and have a connection like that. Because I want people to have someone who they are that close to and genuinely work on a relationship with that person. And because I want people to know that God does answer your prayers, even when it's not 100% the way you want it. He healed her and let me see her smile.

Enjoy her big BIG smile. That's MY Keri. OUR Keri. Crazy Strong and Keri On!

My Keri

11,125 days. What can you do with 11,125 days? What impact can you have on the world? What lessons can you teach others? What legacy can you create?

In 11,125 days, Keri changed our world. Anyone who knows her and even those who never met her are forever changed for the better because of those 11,125 days we were blessed to have Keri here on Earth.

Keri is the greatest person I have ever known. I have always said she is the good one and the favorite. And although I tease, I know it is true. How could Keri not be your most favorite person? She is the epitome of humility, grace, courage, selflessness, positivity, love and faith.

Keri was MY baby doll, my confidant, my right arm, my heart, my very best friend in the world. I am forever grateful that all of my best memories are with her and that I got to witness the miracle that she is to so many people.

I’m lucky that I got to witness her impact on the world from Day 1. As kids, Keri was always feisty, fearless, curious, joyful, and the most tender hearted person you could meet. Qualities she shares with her sweet babies and I see in Cale and Reese every day. Keri always knew what she wanted and she’d get it. She knew what she wanted to do, and she would do it! Some may say she was stubborn; I like to think she was persistent because she was so confident in her desires. When we were little, our parents took us to the horse park at Louisville, Kentucky. We each got to pick a horse to sit on and take our picture with. Because I was always the chicken, I chose to sit in a cart pulled by a tiny pony (which Keri laughed about our whole life). But Keri, oh no, she chose the tallest, biggest horse she could find to sit on. In the picture of her, you can barely see her on top of the horse, but there she is grinning that big Keri smile because knew what she wanted and she got her way.

She loved to learn new things and how things worked, and to explore places and things that intrigued her. She was always adventurous and willing to try anything. I can’t begin to tell you how many recipes she tried to create in the kitchen. You’d open the freezer and see some wild concoction of everything you could find in the kitchen put together in a bowl. There’s no telling how many of her recipes we had to try out. And she always was ready to climb the tree at my Granny’s house as soon as we got there, without fear at all because she wanted to see from the same spots the birds and squirrels could see from.

Keri was genuinely joyful about everything. Probably the happiest kid you could ever meet. I’m pretty sure you cannot find any pictures of her not smiling, unless she was making a silly face of some kind. One of my favorite things that shows how joyful she was whenever she would receive a gift. She always gave me such a hard time because I don’t react the way she does to gifts. But anytime Keri would open a present, she would react like you have just given her a million dollars or a new puppy. Even if it was a pack of underwear or a box of crayons, she was so overjoyed that you had thought enough of her to give her a gift. She was sincere in her reaction because she so appreciated that people loved her so much they would give her a gift. We all know that Keri was our gift.

And boy did she have a tender heart of animals. Dogs, cats, cows, rabbits, you name it, she loved it! Back when camcorders came out, my parents bought one. You know the kind that you had to put on your shoulder (It was the late 80s after all). Anyways, one of our first videos shows Keri’s compassion for animals best. We had a dog that had a litter of puppies. Keri always fell in love with the runts of the litter. One night she brought the runt in the house so she could love on it. While she was lying in the floor, she all of a sudden jumps up screaming “oooh gross, it pooped on me!” She laughed, we laughed, and it really was so funny. We watched that video over and over laughing at it. But if you keep watching through to the next scene, you really see her tender heart. She got the puppy back after she had cleaned herself up and was loving on it and rubbing it because she was worried that “it thought nobody loved it now”. That was her tenderheart. Oh, and if anyone has ever been in a car with Keri, when you see a turtle on the road, you know you have to stop so she can move it to the side of the road it was heading, so no one runs over it.

As we got older, new qualities began to emerge: humbleness, selflessness, and kindness. Keri was extremely talented at so many things like softball, drawing, and teaching. But you couldn’t tell her this without her laughing you off humbly and saying , “No, I’m not” and then telling you how great she thought another person was at those things. She never saw herself as more special or better than someone else. She was also so humbled and appreciative of all of the gifts, support, and prayers she received during her Crazy Strong journey.

Keri was incredibly selfless- always thinking of others. She always did special things for her students and especially for her babies. She was meticulously thoughtful about gifts for people. She loved to help special causes whether it was by donating money, running in a 5K to raise money for a cause, buying t-shirts to support flood relief, or volunteering. When the flood happened in 2010 she wanted to volunteer, but not just anywhere, she volunteered in an area in Nashville that some family friends of my grandparents lived. One of my favorite things that we did together was volunteer as camp counselors at the Victory Junction Gang camp. She had heard of the camp, learned all about it, and then asked me to go with her. What an experience! The camp touched her heart because it was a place where kids who deal with illnesses can go and spend a week doing fun camp stuff just like “normal” kids do. I see now how important and experience like that can be.

Keri’s volunteer and giving spirit never stopped. Just two weeks ago during some precious sister time, she talked about how much she couldn’t wait to be able to help others out the way everyone was so kind in helping her and her family out. Even during her hard times, she was reaching out to others in similar situations giving them advice, hope, an ear to listen. And if anyone ever asked her how she was doing, you know you had to tell her how you were first before she would ever talk about herself. Her selfless acts are far too numerous to mention them all, but I’m sure you can all think of a time she showed you how selfless she was.

And her kindness- there was not a mean bone in her body! She always ALWAYS saw the good in every person and situation. You never heard a mean or unkind thing come out of her mouth. And she always stood up for those who couldn’t speak for themselves.

Love and faith are the two biggest traits that Keri exemplified. Both grew exponentially each year and was especially strong through her Crazy Strong journey. Everyone here knows what it meant to be loved by Keri. A warm happy feeling down to your soul. A love that made you want to be that way to others. Her love made you feel special on the darkest days and inspired you to be greater on your brightest days. She didn’t have to tell you she loved you for you to know because she showed you and you felt it just being around her.

13 years ago she met the love of her life and began the most inspiring love story that will continue to last far beyond this world. I know she was eternally grateful to love and be loved by her real live “Superman”. Becoming a mom was her greatest and happiest accomplishment. I don’t know anyone more overjoyed and proud of motherhood as Keri. She loved every single second she was with Cale and Reese. Always hands on, always making life fun, always showering them with hugs, kisses, encouragement, and love. At such young ages, you can see the amazing influence her motherhood has had on Cale and Reese. A true testament to the love she shares with Daniel and their love for their two sweet babies.

Finally, Keri’s faith is bigger than any fear, problem, or circumstance that came about. I was so blessed to be with her on our journey to growing our faith as kids. We were saved together, baptized together, and learned a lot about God together. Although the past couple of years tested her faith, as well as all of ours, she never waivered! Each day, her faith grew stronger and as a result, so did mine, as well as many many others. She was a witness to how Christ can work through you for others. I know many people who now know Jesus because of Keri. What a great testimony! Keri loved inspirational faith quotes and scripture. We would send each other these quotes and verses and talk about how God was speaking to our circumstances through these. One of Keri’s favorite verses was Psalms 121: 1-2 “I lift my eyes up to the mountains, where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of Heaven and Earth”. This verse was with her through her Crazy Strong journey and I’m so thankful knowing she is with the Lord now in Heaven, smiling her BIG BIG smile!

So, in 11,125 days what impact did Keri have? Look around- look at the people who are here, think about those who couldn’t be here today that she touched through her actions, words, and life. Listen to the stories of strength, hope, faith, and love that people share about Keri. Look at the acts of kindness people perform for strangers or each other because that’s what Keri would do. Look at the people who believe in Christ because of Keri.

In 11,125 days what lessons did Keri teach us? To love one another the way Christ loves us. To be kind to others. To be selfless and humble. To live each day to its fullest. To live without regrets. To SHOW people you love t hem as much as you tell them. And to share God’s word and never, ever, EVER give up!

After 11,125 short days, what legacy does Keri leave with us? Her KINDNESS for all things big and small. Her SMILE that could brighten the darkest days. Her LOVE: unconditional and selfless. Her FAITH that can move mountains. We can carry her legacy on and keep it alive for her sweet babies and all of the people of the world. That’s what she would want. As I told Keri on Tuesday, she was definitely a Proverbs 31 woman- she was clothed with strength and dignity and she laughed without fear of the future. What a legacy!

So although we are sad and broken from our loss of such a light to the world, let us always remember Keri’s lessons, her legacy, her great big smile, and her impact on each of us and others. Let us use OUR days, however many they may be, to make such an impact and carry on her legacy. Let us strive to be better people because we knew her. Let us always do for others because of her giving heart. Let us always move the turtles out of the road because she cared for all things big and small. Let us always smile BIG smiles because one smile can change a life. And let us always know and follow Christ, so one day we can go to Heaven where there is no pain or suffering, just happiness and love, and our sweet smiling Keri.

I love you infinity Keri!