Friday, April 22, 2016

How I Quit Smoking (And How You Can, Too!)


 
 I was a cigarette smoker from the age of 16. Though, I did not really get going with the habit until the age of 18 when I could legally purchase the packs myself. I typically smoked 15-20 cigarettes a day. I would smoke mindlessly. I wouldn't really crave one but I would light up anyway. Chain smoking was a bad habit of mine when I was in social settings with other smokers.

A little background


I have always known that cigarettes were harmful to your health. I used to hide my grandmother's packs of mini cigars until she'd get angry with me. I hated sitting near smoking sections in restaurants and public places. I would be disgusted with amount of ash and butts lying around the streets, yards and sidewalks. One thing that bothered me more than all of it was the scent. Even as a smoker myself, I could not stand the scent of someone who had just smoked. Their breath, hair, clothes, homes...it was just too much. I was unaware of how much I hated this until I became a hair stylist. People would sit in my chair and immediately I was smacked with the scent. I suddenly became aware of my own cigarette stench after each break I took. My clients and customers never said a word or made a gesture about my scent, however. I'm not sure if I had succeeded in concealing my scent or if they were just very kind to me.

The last couple of years I realized I desperately needed to give up this filthy habit to save myself from more damage. I am 26 years old now and would like to have a few years of quitting under my belt before I hit 30. 

Attempts to quit


I have attempted to quit several times in the past. I attempted cold turkey methods in the beginning and never made it more than 48 hours. I tried quitting with patches and gums. I tried to replace cigarettes with Lemonhead candies and peppermints, to no avail. I knew I needed to quit, but I hadn't really prepared my mind for being a non-smoker. When I was around 20 or 21 a good friend of mine had quit and I was inspired to give it another try. This time I used an electronic cigarette that I ordered directly from China. I loved that thing. It was small and shaped like a black cigarette. The end would light up blue from each puff. I thought I was so cool. Nowadays, vaping has become a massive culture. My little black e-cig from China was nowhere near the monsters they have created today. 

This attempt lasted me about six months. I was so proud to be a quitter. I felt like I had some control over my life. Until I found work at a salon that I would later call home. My best friend, was the manager, and on my very first day of work she took me out for a cigarette break.

I lost all control and gave in...


I spent the next 5 years smoking and thinking about how bad it was for me. My boyfriend, was also a smoker. My brothers were smokers. My friends were smokers. It was everywhere around me. I knew I wasn't going to be able to quit without help. I went to my doctor and was given a prescription of Buproprion. It is a generic form of Wellbutrin, which I had heard was helping people quit. I took this for about three or four months. After a month, I was ready to start quitting. I lost my urge to smoke as much and suddenly didn't care if I had one. However, if you love yourself, then I do not recommend this method. The side effects were so intense that I do not think it's safe to take such drugs. I woke up with a new pain in a new place of my body every day. My jaw was constantly clenching tightly and I couldn't stop it. My body trembled all day long. It scared me, so I stopped taking it.
For another six months, I was a non-smoker. 

That was until I began hanging out with my best friend again. I enjoyed our cigarette talks and suddenly felt I wanted to be a smoker. So, I picked up the habit again. This time, however, my boyfriend did not. He had quit with me and wasn't interested in starting again. I admired his willpower and remember wishing I felt the same way he did. I can now finally say I do.


The last time

I chose to change my way of thinking. I knew I didn't like cigarettes. I feared for my health and I wanted to stop, but I didn't know what to do. I turned to the internet and found a book I once owned and never finished. It was The Easy Way To Stop Smoking by Allen Carr. I listened to the audio book version on Audible.com. You can continue smoking while you read it (or listen) and it really helps change the way you view cigarettes, the tobacco industry, and other smokers. You will not want to keep smoking afterwards. I do highly recommend that everyone struggling to quit give it a read (or listen). 

I'm not here to advertise the book, but simply give you my story. If you or someone you love is struggling with nicotine addiction (or any addiction, really) the only way they (or you) will ever truly quit is to accept it themselves.You cannot quit successfully if you are not truly ready. I'm not talking about a weekend spark of inspiration and saying you'll quit Monday morning. No, you have to want to be a non-smoker. You have to know that cigarettes serve no purpose in your life. You don't even crave them when they are gone. Every cigarette you put out is your last cigarette. The moment you're done, you've become a non-smoker. 

When you are truly ready to accept that you are a non-smoker, then you can set a date or pick your last cigarette. 

Final advice

Take care of yourself. If you want to quit, don't get mad at yourself for your past failures. There is nothing wrong with you. You're not quitting because you hate yourself, you're quitting because you love yourself and the people around you. Get a good support system, there are apps and online forums to track your progress and stay in touch with others. Your family and friends will support you, even the smokers. 

For the first few weeks, you should keep yourself busy. Find other things to do to keep your mind off of going out for a cigarette if you're having trouble getting over it. Going for a walk, drinking water, reading some articles or a chapter or two of a good book, are good ideas. I know some people that use adult coloring books to pass a few minutes of time easily. I frequently passed time on Pinterest. Pinning really distracts me from everything though so I have to be careful. Another great idea is to journal. Keeping track of your feelings, mental state, physical health, and progress is a great idea.

I hope that you find your health and happiness.


XOXO

Captain O'Reily




Buy me a cup of coffee. ;)









Monday, January 26, 2015

My Gastric Bypass Surgery Experience

For those of you that don't know, I had gastric bypass surgery on April 22, 2014. I was holding back from posting this story because of it's embarrassing and graphic content. I think many of you need to know what happened so you may be more prepared than I was. I will tell you 2 things right now.

1) If you cannot handle reading or imagining gross stories that involve bodily functions and fluids then you should move onto another blog post or wait for my next post!

2) If you are not mature enough to keep your comments positive after reading about my personal and embarrassing situation, then please find another blog to follow.

And now I will begin...

(^^^^^^Me/ Not Me^^^^^^)


I used to be a whopping 321lbs. That was my highest recorded weight. It is very possible I was heavier than that by a few pounds, too. I was miserable, depressed, and too fat for comfort. I should also mention that in November of 2008 I had Lap-Band surgery. I was about 18 years old then. I was desperate to get my weight and eating habits under control. I have always been overweight and I'm not sure what happened. One day I was a reasonably healthy kid and the next, I was an ever-growing kid.
(I don't remember what I was having done or why I was in the hospital here. Lol )


I don't know what it is like to be thin or entirely healthy. I am, however, working on it.

So, I spent just over 5 years with my Lap-Band. I struggled with it constantly and was always throwing up immediately after taking a bite of food. I, initially, lost 40lbs with the band, but due to my struggling with the proper diet and lack of discipline, I ballooned back up.

I had started experiencing acid reflux. I'll say that it was definitely mild, but it was not something I had ever had before. My lap-band and I were just never meant to be and that's alright. I don't think I was ready to have the surgery. I just wanted a fix for my obesity and I was not mentally mature enough to handle it back then. I do not have any regrets, though. My several years with the band taught me about my eating/drinking habits and how I was sabotaging myself from actually making a change. Despite the constant vomiting and discomfort, it was all very worth it.

Now that you have the backstory, let's continue.

After my band was removed, a month or so later, I was back in the hospital for the gastric bypass surgery. The surgery itself went very smoothly and I was back in my own hospital room in no time at all. After waking, I felt fine. There was some soreness and I was extremely tired/groggy as I was still coming off of the anesthesia.

Then it started, the dry heaving. There was, obviously, nothing in my new stomach to throw up so I was continuously dry heaving. This is completely normal. I experienced this after the lap-band surgery, too. Only, this continued over the course of several days and nights. Every time I opened my mouth just to speak, my heaving would begin again. This, was not normal.
And, I was terrified that I was never going to stop heaving and would have to go back into surgery or something.

The doctors and nurses were concerned because it should not have gone on for so long. I was not allowed near food or water during this time (it would have come back up anyway). Then, one day I just stopped. I believe it was about 3 days in. I could not have been happier, but I was still not allowed near food or water. At this point, I was so thirsty I could have cried. I just wanted a small sip of water to satisfy me, but it wasn't allowed.

During my stay, I was constantly hooked up to an IV pump. I was being pumped full of fluid bags. I was told that when you're getting that many fluids, you shouldn't feel that dehydrated, but I was.

(Note: This was all strange, but not life-threatening or anything I was *too* concerned about.)

Then sometime on my 3rd or 4th day in the hospital (Most patients only stay 2-3 days), I began to hiccup uncontrollably for an entire day. Also, not normal. My surgeon was growing worried and decided that I was not ready to go home yet and that broke my heart.

If you have ever stayed in a hospital for a few days, you know it is uncomfortable, boring, and you are constantly interrupted from sleeping by nurses who have to check up on you or give you medication. (And I am so thankful for every nurse out there. They are awesome and you should always thank them for taking care of you! Mine certainly went above and beyond.)
(This was my view. Talk about boring!)

I wanted to cry, I wanted to go home, and I wanted to feel normal again.

My surgeon had been busy so I had only spoken to him on the phone after the day of my surgery. After my hiccups, he wanted to come talk with me. Hours and hours of hiccups and the MOMENT he stepped into the room, my hiccups went away. I was only upset he didn't come sooner. He was genuinely concerned and wanted me to be just as informed as he was.

There was wrong as far as they could tell, my body was just reacting and recovering differently than most people. We figured that after days of constant dry heaving, my body reacted by hiccupping. Which, I believe is just muscle spasms. It made sense to me and so we waited.

I was feeling fine for another day, I was still very thirsty, but definitely not heaving or hiccupping or having some other reaction. Then, finally, I was allowed to start taking in some liquids. I was given a set of tiny 1oz cups to sip from, a sugar free lime flavored popsicle, beef broth, water, and crystal light lemonade water. This was the most delicious meal I've ever had. Starving for several days will do that to you. Nothing will ever taste as good as that lime popsicle.

Okay, so from here on out all I had to do was prove to them I could get in enough fluids by myself to stay hydrated. This would ensure my release from the hospital. I was so determined. I kept track of how many ounces of fluid I drank every hour and was able to report back to the doctors when they came to check up on me.

On the 4th night,  I was watching MTV and chatting with my new nurse, who was a male. I love how nurses are so easy to talk to and they can make you laugh and cheer you up. We were joking around about the music video that was playing and that totally made my night. Some time after he left the room, this was probably between 1 and 2 am. I felt pressure from below and you are not supposed to hold in any gas you feel after surgery. They pump you full of air to expand your abdomen so they have more room during the surgery. Your body absorbs it and releases it like normal gas. You can walk around and try to get it moving, but if you hold it in, it can crawl up your body.

(After my lap-band surgery, the air gas crawled up to my shoulder and caused the worst pain I have ever felt. I was in tears and had to walk around my living room for hours to try and break it up and move it out of my system.)

So, as I was saying, I pushed it out. Except, this was not gas. This was a huge lie my body told me by making me think it was gas. All I felt was thick, warm, wetness coming from my back end and I jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom.

Disgusting, right?

At least you didn't have to experience it.

Now, there were several things wrong with this decision I made to get up.

1) I was hooked up to the IV pump. I had to unplug and roll it to the bathroom with me, and this took up quite a bit of time.

2)I now was dripping all over the bed, myself, and the floor of my hospital room.

Here's the kicker!
3) It was not poop. Nothing about this was even remotely fecal matter. Nope, what came out of me (from back *there*) was indeed blood and lots of it.

My hospital room and bathroom looked like I had been massacred. I ran to the toilet to get as much out of me as I could, and then I jumped into the shower and pulled the "call for help" line. A nurse rushed to my room and I stood embarrassed in the shower trying to hide behind the shower curtain. Everything was covered in blood and I was scared I was dying.

Several people, including my male nurse, were called to the room. They cleaned up everything while I was coerced back to the bed by the nurse. I begged him to just let me take a shower and change into another hospital gown before doing anything else but he insisted that I needed to get checked out. He, was right of course, but I was really not happy about it.

To make matters worse, before he even ran tests on me he grabbed a bunch of warm wet wipes and wiped me down. This was the absolute lowest I have ever felt in my life. I think I would have preferred that the wipes were cold. Warm wet wipes told me he cared about my comfort, but it only made me more uncomfortable.

(Please don't judge me, I can laugh about it now, but back then it was the scariest and most embarrassing moment of my life.)

So, they did blood work, ran some tests. I had a fever and a headache. I started feeling awful after this incident. I had hardly noticed because I just wanted to go home and that was all I could focus on. Several hours later, the blood work came back and showed my blood count was super low and I was given a blood transfusion. A couple bags of blood and 8 hours later and I felt amazing. If you ever have the ability, please donate blood. If it can make me feel a ton better, imagine how much better it could make someone who is actually suffering from a life-threatening illness?


Seriously guys, my headache was gone, I felt hydrated finally, I had a ton of energy which I hadn't noticed I was running low on before. I just thought I had a major surgery and was feeling like I was supposed to...miserable. I could have gone home right then and there, sprinting down the highway. Naturally, after my big blood loss, I was not allowed to leave and was stuck for another day.

I, finally, gained control of my bowels and was able to change into my own clothes, without fear of having to leave them in the biohazard waste because of something awful like my previous experience. What was even better was that every time I had to go, I noticed the blood was darker and darker until it was pitch black. Still scary, but that tells me that the blood was no longer fresh so there wasn't any open wound or something that wasn't healing.
(Superwoman thanks to the blood transfusion!)

After all of this, I was finally released and sent home. This was only over the course of a week but it felt much longer. My surgeon had a heart to heart with me and let me know that I was one of FIVE patients this had ever happened to. He also had no idea what makes that happen.

I have no idea, either, but I am RELIEVED that it is all over. I will say that I was never in a lot of pain, just sore, and I had a lot of bruising. I haven't had a single problem since I was released from the hospital and it is now 9 months later.


(Hospital Selfie)

(My stomach after I returned from the hospital. There was way more bruising, but I don't have any photos of them. I'm sorry!)

(I'm still not sure exactly what all this bruising on my wrist was from.






So, there you have it.

-Do I regret having the gastric bypass?
No.

-Would I do it all again?
Yes, but hope I never ever have to.

-Do I recommend it to someone who is interested and a good candidate for the surgery?
Absolutely. Please keep in mind that what happened to me is ABNORMAL. So chances are, this will not happen to you!


If you have any questions regarding the surgery, feel free to ask or email me! Also, I will be posting more on this topic so if you don't get a direct response, check the coming blog posts for the rest of my GBS stories and information!


XOXO
-Captain O'Reily







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Wednesday, November 20, 2013

Review: Tomb Raider (PS3)

     I have been a long time fan of Lara Croft and all of the Tomb Raider games. This, hands down, has to be my favorite of all of them. Video games, in general, have come so far when it comes to the realistic elements. I played the game over the course of a week. During that week, I actually felt like I was Lara Croft.

The story itself is an origins story. You begin as young Lara Croft who isn't too sure of herself. Her confidence is low and she seems much more shy than you would normally picture her. As the game progresses, her strength is tested. Every cut scene is intense and the brutality is pure awesome. I found myself saying, "how much more is this poor girl gonna have to take!". Every part takes her confidence and skill level to new heights. By the end of the game, she becomes the confident and ready-for-action girl we all know and love.

During the game, you acquire new weapons and skill points. Gathering salvage throughout the game allows you to choose your own weapon upgrades and pick what your next skill is going to be. They range from climbing skills all the way to weapon expert skills.
The upgrades and skills are extremely important as the game continues. The enemies are everywhere and come in packs. Stealth is important and you'll probably use your trusty bow and arrows more than the shotgun or pistol, but they are all important!

The combat is action packed and may cause you to rage quit once or twice. Enemies will shoot not only bullets, but fiery and explosive arrows! That is one of the most frustrating parts.

The island is vast, but it is easy to maneuver. There are plenty of collectibles to find and tombs to raid. And yes, to answer your question, there are plenty of wolves, too. The land is also loaded with puzzles and mysterious items.

All in all, the game was a blast to play. Character development was fantastic, at least with Lara. Graphics were great and fairly realistic. The amount of blood and gore was perfect (not too much, not too little). The story of the island seemed too cheesy, but the rest of the game makes up for it. I absolutely cannot wait for the next Tomb Raider game. I, also, highly recommend this game if you haven't played it yet!


I'm giving it a 9.5 out of 10. 

*I am, by no means, an expert gamer. I play casually, and these are my own opinions. Take it or leave it, but these are my thoughts.*

Friday, October 4, 2013

The Asian Giant Hornet (Vespa Mandarinia)




The Asian giant hornet is terrorizing people in China. Their current death toll is 42, and have injured more than 1,500 others. They are attracted to sweat, alcohol, and sweet scents. Like most wasps, they are more sensitive to this when animals or people run. Their venom can kill red blood cells and can cause kidney failure and death. 

Those pictured above are the queen hornets, but the average Asian giant hornet is roughly the size of a thumb. 


This is not a topic I would normally write about, but I'm still not over my nightmares topic from last week. I have always had a fear of wasps. I know they do take care of many pests like flies and ticks, but I hate them. I would never kill one just because, but I get so terrified every time one is near me. They are, most definitely, my kryptonite. 

You can see me go from an adult to a toddler in about .01 seconds. After reading about these hornets in China, it made me think of how terrifying it must be to live near them. Especially now that they really are terrorizing people. I could not imagine the fear. Some have claimed that swarms have chased them down for over 200 meters. I would have a mental breakdown (and, hopefully, a flamethrower). 

I am working to push past my fear. I try to think of the good they provide, and think of calming things. That way, I am not flailing around and running from them. That's a great way to get stung.
I think why I fear them so much is both times I have been stung by red wasps, I had no idea they were even there. The first time, I was opening a gate to my backyard, I couldn't even see it as it stung me. And the second time, I walked out of my front door and was stung on my neck. Again, I had no clue it was there. Now, I make myself aware of everything surrounding me as I go outside. My fear is completely irrational. Not every wasp wants to sting me. But, I have a hard time pushing through to get over it. 

Anyway, there you have it. My worst nightmare is terrorizing Asia. Luckily, experts are saying it is highly unlikely for them to migrate to America. They would have to cross over desert land and they have not adapted to it yet. I'm still keeping my fingers crossed on that knowledge.


What is your biggest fear?



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Saturday, September 21, 2013

Nightmares

Have you ever had a nightmare before? I just woke up from one about an hour ago. I thought this would make for an interesting topic. I'll spare you the long, detailed version and try to shorten it.

Carl and I were walking around his house in the dark. 
(Big surprise)
There was a man's shadow wandering through different rooms. We tried to follow him and trap him, but when the lights came on, there was no one there. The same night, we were hanging out when I discovered a strange looking insect. Then, suddenly, more and more came in the house and before you knew it, we were swarmed by massive numbers of these flying caterpillars. (Caterpillars with wasp-like wings)
We had to leave the house and head to mine. We started seeing on the news that strange things, involving new creatures, were happening all over the country. 
The next thing I new, it was a new day, I was standing in my kitchen trying to make adjustments to my new Dallas Cowboys Jersey. I looked up to see a large humanoid monster (Like something from a B-Movie) walking into my living room from the back door. I grabbed a knife and he came barreling into the kitchen. As I tried to jump over my counter to get away, he grabbed me by the legs... 
And I woke up.

What a weird dream. It's certainly not the scariest, but it's been awhile since I've had one. It definitely throws you off-guard. I think I've been watching, reading, and listening to too many scary stories. I think I will be trying to keep it "clean" with what I watch, read, and listen to for awhile. That way, by Halloween, I'll be ready to embrace the scariness once again. 

Now, though, I am curious. What is the scariest dream you've ever had? How did it affect you? 

I'll tell you mine. (Again, I'll keep it brief) This is not about scary monsters or zombies, there are no creatures or fairy tale images. It was too realistic, for the most part.

I was hanging out with a good friend of mine. We were visiting a trailer park. Inside each trailer, the people occupying them, were preparing for a circus that evening.
We were looking for special outfits to wear and makeup to try on. Yet, around this park, it was nothing except a desert wasteland. All of the trailers looked like white train cars, dumped randomly on top of this dirty clay-like ground.
There were no clowns (Thank goodness!) just people you might find in "Small Town", Texas.
The two of us left, now joined by a few members of her family. We came across a set of railroad tracks. There were probably 6-8 different sets of tracks. I didn't want to walk across them. Even though, there were no trains, it was completely deserted, besides the trailer park. 
They walked ahead of me, and I finally sucked up the courage to cross. I double-checked every time I was about to cross. Still nothing.
They had made it past the tracks safely, and surely I would, too. I came up to the last set of tracks, checked both ways. There was nothing. I took one step onto the tracks and a very large train, blowing it's horn, hit me instantly.
I woke up, gasping for air, in a cold sweat. I sat straight up. It was the first time I had ever reached death in a dream. Normally, like the dream I had this morning, something will catch me or happen and I'll wake up before I find out how I meet my end. 

I just don't understand that dream. I think one of the reasons it scared me so badly was I didn't just have it once. It was recurring constantly. Every night that week, I think I had that dream. Luckily, I haven't had that dream in a long time. I'm really hoping that I never do again.




Now, I want to hear all about YOUR DREAMS!





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Thursday, September 19, 2013

Love Is In The Air

Have you ever been in love? This is an unusual topic for myself.
I just feel like I should be chronicling this part of my life. If you're not interested in this topic, I apologize now. This is important to me, however, and I feel like I need to share this.

I'm only 24 years old. I don't have many years of experience on this topic, but I know enough. Two years ago, I was single (and had been for a long time). I dated a few guys, but it was rare that I ever had a boyfriend. I was always the single and fat friend. So, naturally, everyone came to me for relationship advice. I always wanted to know Why?, but I soon realized when you're in a situation, it's nice to have an outsider's viewpoint. I learned many lessons this way.

I used to hate being single. I wanted to be like everyone else, happy in a relationship. Years went by and I became an adult. Being a hair stylist, helped me meet people. I made good friends and met some really awesome clients. Some of whom, I dated. That was a big mistake. However, I became more knowledgeable of how men began to think and act. I suddenly found myself in a world I would never understand fully. I'm not sure anyone ever will understand love. I wanted it, but I was not prepared for the roller coaster I was about to board.

I had thoughts of what my ideal man would be like. I dreamed I would find my Prince Charming. I believe the Universe is full of irony. Does anyone ever get what they really dreamed of? Some say they do.

I went on with my life, doing the same daily routines. Until, one night after work, something unusual happened. I met up with a friend of mine from school. He was living in my area and was in my neighborhood that night. I thought he was alone, but when I went to meet him, his strange looking friend was there, too. I thought nothing of it. It was nice to connect with someone from my "old life". The three of us got some dinner and headed back to my house to watch cartoons and play games until 5 am. The downside to this was I had to be at work by 9 am. I didn't want to ask them to leave, I was trying to be cool about it.

The next day, at work, I could only think of how tired I was. I thought about his friend. He was 26, no job, no school, living at home with his parents. "What a loser." I thought. I certainly didn't have my life completely together, but at 22 I was working hard at the salon, slaving away for some cash. I never thought of him romantically. Time passed, and we talked to each other on Facebook. I got to know more and more about him. Suddenly, I was hooked. I wanted this man in my life. I still, never thought of him romantically. One day, I decided to break routine. I had the day off, so I asked him if he wanted to hang out. I picked him up, and we ate some Asian food, then headed to Best Buy to look around. I didn't realize Best Buy would let me in on his tastes on entertainment. (Books, music, movies, games...) I learned so much about him. We had a LOT in common.

We had a great time, and more time passed, we talked every night. I saw him on my days off. I never thought this "loser" would be one of the greatest things to ever happen to me. I am so thankful we are now together. Things haven't been easy. There is still much progress to be made. But I have never felt so happy, so safe, so close to anyone in my life, than when I am with him. I always ask myself now "How did I get so lucky?" Sure, he drives me up the wall and makes me absolutely angry from time-to-time. I wouldn't take it back, though. I am glad, now, that I waited for the "right" one to come along. This man means the world to me. He may be far from perfect, but he's my imperfection. I now understand what everyone else is talking about. I thought I did before, but now I'm in the "club". I truly understand what it means to be head-over-heels in love.
***
Funny story: Several years ago, a close friend and I, went to see a psychic. During our reading, I thought the reader had become confused and mixed up my reading with my friend's. But when I look back at it now, she described the man that would change my life. Physically, she described Carl. I can't believe how spot-on she was! (Just thought I'd throw this in there.)

How many of you have found the love of your life? I would like to hear your stories, too! Share away!



Thursday, February 3, 2011

Mary Lee Crumrine

Yesterday, I lost someone I loved very deeply. This is possibly the hardest news I've ever had to take. And I can only write this with a severely broken heart. My grandmother is now gone. A deep part of myself is now missing. This wound will take the longest to heal.

As part of this healing process, I'd like to remember all of the good things about her life. As well as the parts of my life I spent with her. While she was.... (The simple act of changing "is" to "was" is hard.) As I was saying, she was nowhere near perfect, but her flaws are what make my Grannie so unique. Perhaps, I should say "made" instead of "make". Oh well...
Despite her flaws and quirks, this woman changed my life for the better. It began slowly. It wasn't until recently I became aware of how important her and my grandfather are to me. How each talk, each visit, was not to be taken for granted. I'm not just saying that because she's gone now. I realized this long before her death. I still can't fathom that she's really not here.

Suddenly, all of those trips to the grocery store are more important than ever. Every time my grandpa would drive us in the big white truck to grab only a handful of items at the store, my grandmother and I would wander around and a handful became a cart full. Everything in the cart was of-course either on sale or she had a coupon for it. I remember going to Wal-Mart to get cans or Cream of Mushroom Soup, but they only had one can of the cheaper brand. So we waited 20 minutes for an employee to find another can of the same kind in the back, even though the other cans of the same soup were only 5 cents more expensive.
We'd come back to the truck and my grandpa would always say "Oh hell, what did you buy now?".

I miss the random things we'd laugh about. I miss the trips we used to take across the U.S. I miss laughing at her purple pants that were no funnier than the other pairs she owned. I miss watching her scribble on notepads and wiggling her toes every time she talked on the phone. I miss talking to her the most. I could tell her about nothing and she'd still be smiling and happy to talk about it. I miss having coffee with her on the porch every morning. Or how we'd drink coffee until about 5pm and finally get around to making breakfast.

Every Sunday morning she'd wake and make coffee, then turn on the old gospel music on the radio until 10am when Joel came on T.V. Her dream was to go to The Lakewood Church in Houston so she could see Joel Osteen and hear the music they didn't play during T.V. time.

I love the way she loved Elvis. I love that she would never let a day go by without telling me how much she loved me a hundred times before you could get her off the phone.

I miss everything about her. I love everything about her.
And I can only thank her for so many things.

It is because of my grandmother that I found God. I didn't understand as a kid why we'd have to pray at every meal or why she needed to read her bible every single day though she had read it many times before. Now I do. She had a direct connection to the Lord. Everyday she talked to God more than people..(and she talked to people A LOT) I understand what faith, love, hope, and happiness is because of her.

The second thing I have to thank her for is her stories. My father died when I was still an infant. I never got to know him like the rest of my family. Through her stories, however, I've grown to feel close to him. Like how he'd come to her house during the holidays and eat the whole box of chocolate covered cherries and leave a note in the fridge letting her know they needed to buy more. Or how he never had a Christmas without listening to Elvis while decorating the tree.

Now, my father, his brother (Uncle Tim), my grandfather (Papa Ed), and my grandmother are all back together in heaven.

I know that's what she wanted. She missed her sons more than anything in the world. But now she's left behind my Grandpa, who is also suffering from a broken heart. I'm going to watch over him, but this is going to be difficult for all of us. I've never seen him like this before.

My grandmother is and was a beautiful, kind, loving, charismatic woman. She taught me hundreds of life lessons, about God, about family, about cooking....about the world. I have made the promise that I will now continue my life doing the things she believed I could. Her faith in my successes are now the fuel for me to push forward and make all of my goals and dreams come true.

That includes: getting healthy and in shape, getting many promotions at work and making it to an Artistic Director, travelling the world, meeting good people, having a strong Faith and relationship with God, and lastly being the best person I know how to be.

All of which will happen, though I can't say it's going to be easy. I am so used to picking up the phone and calling her to talk about good things, or to just check in. I'm going to miss her voice on the other end of that phone. Until then, I still have her voice on my voicemail messages on my phone.

There's so much more to say about this amazing woman, but I'll spare you the details.

I love you Grannie, more than the world. Truly, this world is not the same without you. I'm thankful for the time we've had together, and for the lessons you've taught me. I have regrets but only that I didn't have more time with you. Send my love to Pop and Uncle Tim and all of the family. I will see you again someday.