If I could pull this oversized t-shirt over my head and hide my face, I would. Every stereotype you place in my lap has already been tattooed on my face. Point your fingers. Question my integrity. Hell, question who I WILL become.
Sitting in the Kiddie Pool
A strange and powerful way to accept yourself.
There I sit in the middle of the wizz pool, by choice, when there is a perfect adult size pool situated next to this lukewarm bath water.
I Give a Damn Social Mob
...because I give a damn about YOU, about those around me, about relationships, friendships, and about being a NICE person.
To My Little Butterfly
I can’t look in your eyes and see years of memories. I can’t even pretend to know who you are or who you want to become...
The Gift of Hope
“I can help you. We can help you,” she said.
I looked up from the web of insecurity as her eyes meet mine.
Be Present. Be Nice. Be Aware.
My only frustration… that I didn’t start sooner!
Day 52 Post Concussion Syndrome
When will I look out at the view and be grateful for this time? When will I be able to turn this into something I can look back on as a positive lesson?
Peripheral Vision
My concussion had taken so much away from me and every time I received something back, it felt like it was nicely wrapped and placed in my hands like a gift. My increasing gratitude made each gift feel that much sweeter and this moment was no different.
Sitting Across From You
“Those first four days I’d wake up every morning hoping you were still alive,” you say in between raw emotion. Your gaze leaves mine and I can tell you’re holding back. All I can think to say is, “I’m sorry.”
Make That Connection
We all need it. We all desire it. It's water to our souls and whether you reach for it in your darkest moments or you have surrendered daily to it's power, you still need it.
Meeting Her There
I felt with every fiber of my being that I should enjoy my hike today. I should enjoy my life. Be grateful for my life and be joyful.
Who I Am Now
Did I just say that?
It felt so empowering to hear it leave my lips.
Even better, I meant it.
Journal Entry, February 2016
The water is hot enough for my toes to curl, as I slowly lower myself into the tub. The smell of eucalyptus and the staleness of Epsom salt burns through my nose.
Mom, It's Her
Our quaint rental house sat on a half-acre lot at the end of a secluded back road in Spanish Fork, UT. My oldest son, JD, was nearly 4 years old, and Evie, my daughter, was 3 months old.
Don't Create Limitations
One year ago today I suffered a severe concussion. Ironically enough I posted this picture one day before my accident, with this caption below it.
Let's Be Patient
When I looked at him and said, "it's been a difficult year, let's be patient with ourselves." He teared up.