Tuesday, September 30, 2014


For one reason or another I feel life has been flying by since Aviana died.

While she was alive, I was fixated on her. All else fell by the wayside. But not only was everything off to the side, it was so far down my list of priorities. It's strange to think I had more time while she was here, but it's true. I don't quite understand with how much it took to care for her physically, mentally, and emotionally. I try not to put too much thought into how, but maybe because I was in a flux and we were unable to truly live our lives.

Since she died, life has been moving. I'd venture to say it's because we were in a holding pattern before, and transitioning back into a more normal kind of life takes some getting used to. Whatever the reason, for me, it's been both exciting and uncomfortable at times.

I can't adequately, or accurately explain what moving forward with what feels like a piece of me missing feels like. I think that's one of the reasons I now find it more difficult to write here sometimes. The conflict I felt before has become more peaceful, but yet evolved into finding a new way without her entirely. It both makes me happy and sad to know she's no longer here. What an odd way to spend the duration of my days.

Ever since she died, I've had to remind myself - there was a me before the we. Beforehand, I had a strong sense of myself, but as the years after the accident marched on, Meek and me understandably became much more intertwined. Especially within the last years of her life. We spoke our very own secret language. I knew her every feeling, emotion, need, want, like, dislike, and so on. In many ways, we became one. We spent hours upon hours together - day and night. For better or worse - in sickness and health. I tried to give her as much independence as I could, for both of us, but due to circumstance, we were us - whether we liked it, and even sometimes not.

There are many times I still feel odd without her by my side. I have to remember how to be a single, independent person again - one who will always be a mom - but yet, isn't physically a mom to my very special little anymore. Navigating the world is so different now that she's gone, rather than when she was here and hurt. There are more general questions asked, which means we need to figure out how and when to answer. Sometimes I need to assess the situation and see how I'm feeling? Am I strong enough to endure a line of questioning, or will I lose it and cry in front of strangers? Yes, it's important to sometimes size up a situation in order to know how to answer, but often times, I'm blindsided and give my accidental deer caught in the headlights. I'm new to this, and in my life up until now, most everyone has known us and our situation. But this is what I've wanted, to move to a place where no one knows our name, our story, or what happened - that is - unless we choose to let it out. That's why I loved the new gym I joined a year ago so much. Not one person knew anything about me. It was my little secret - and for that reason that single place provided a refuge for me to come and go as I pleased. It was a place I could truly go to escape for a moment.

But anyway, in this time since she's been gone, I've had to figure out how to live like I used to. Like before that ball of fire looked my way in Guatemala and just knew she was going to take my life and rearrange it. That she did, because often times, I feel there's almost no semblance of the person who peered in and locked eyes with that cute little Guastatoyan, all clad in her red, white and blue best. And actually, I'm all good with that, because not for one millisecond would I want to be the person I was before Aviana.

But...now without her and maintaining the endless wake which followed - I have some work to do. Who am I, without her? Sometimes that's easy, sometimes I stumble. Sometimes I think it's because I'm missing her and know that each step forward is just another away from her.

I miss her extra these past few weeks. To be honest, I don't even know what I'm writing. I sat down to say something completely different but this is what appeared.

I again can't post what I've been wanting for what seems forever. Most all our pictures didn't transfer over. I'll have to continue my search. Lesson learned, never use computer and dialed in the same sentence.

In the meantime...

This was Rainey's first picture in our new house. We had just gotten the keys and this is how I would find her every time I'd go to the car for something else.

What a beauty.

We have this great new neighbor. Everyday she takes us to a new place somewhere in the forest. Rainey loves running wild and free through the woods. 

This is the reservoir behind where I went to high school. I love this picture so much. When Rainey sees water, she can't resist. She runs and jumps off the wall.

We live right across the street from the lake. Rainey was born for the water, so she's in heaven. My dad comes over sometimes with his dog Ronda.

This is one of my favorite pictures. The night before we'd just hung what we call our "Rainey" picture. First thing the next morning, I turned around to this. It just doesn't get any sweeter.

Dave works right next door to his absolute favorite coffee shop. How convenient ; ) They just recently opened, and I agree...their coffee is the best! 

Last night we took Rainey for a sunset swim. Yes, that's her swimming in beside the ducks. It was really cold out, but of course she didn't mind a bit. She wanted to keep going all night long. We finally tried to explain that it was dark, she didn't care. 

It was one of the most beautiful nights I have ever seen.

Wednesday, September 24, 2014


Hi guys! I've missed you so very much! I'm sorry I've been away so long. Thank you for being patient with me. I'm good now. The paint is fresh, the boxes are unpacked, the computer is dialed. But most importantly, the Halloween decorations are scattered about - ready to be set in their new places. It's surreal, but at the very same time - not at all.

Each day I'm continually reminded of just how many things suddenly, yet ever so gently, fell into place to land us in this unbelievable place. Sometimes alone with my Rainey girl, and other times with Dave, tears silently roll.

Last week, we were in Reno happily shopping away for our house. One second I'm fine, the next...tears. Dave and I had lost each other somewhere between faucets and door hardware. Upon losing, I was great. Once found, puddle. Dave so lovingly hugged me and said, "tears in Home Depot Bee? What happened?" All it took that day was a single corner glance at the Halloween decorations.

Thankfully - more often than not, they are tears of gratitude.

I've always felt both our girls floated away in my very favorite month because it's almost impossible to shake my out of control happiness for all things orange, black, and boney. I had been eyeing all the new Halloween arrivals since they began making their (annoying to some, but never to me) appearance. When I first saw them this year, I had to catch my breath, and have since a few more times thereafter. Could it be? A full year since I've held and kissed you? A year will turn to more since your physical body's been away from us...

This last weekend at Home Depot was different though. I felt all things Tahoe happened so fast, and perfect, in order to help us along. In all the happiness of looking at garbage cans, hooks, and switches, I was reminded of just how very distracted we are in all things good, new and exciting! So much so, that we won't be in our old house, doing the same things we always did. All the while - consciously or subconsciously - painting images of the past year.

In that moment, which closely resembled many others since Aviana passed, I felt these big, warm arms wrapped around us. They are one in the same. They let us know we are being watched over, taken care of, and are most certainly loved. These feelings are so overwhelming they spill out, and over my eyes.

Monday, September 1, 2014


Both our plates were overflowing. It was a stressful, but exciting time. I was working my first job out of college at an out of control pace. Dave was soon to graduate and start at the company he just recently left. We were a little out from being married in Lake Tahoe. I was searching day and night for the perfect house. I knew when I saw it. Dave agreed. We soon watched our home built from the ground up.

Shortly after, a "normal" life was in full swing.

Through the years, we've loved our home and neighborhood. We already know we'll never find as great a 'hood' as the one we have. We felt lucky before Aviana's accident, but after - words fall short. Our neighbors are an extension of our family, and our family, an extension of our neighbors. Infinity. No beginning, or end. They are the greatest human beings this earth has to offer. No joke. It's like if those of you who comment here were our neighbors - that caliber.

In growth and moving on, there's much we're leaving behind. It isn't easy to say goodbye to those who've loved, lifted, and sometimes even carried us through.

The truest form of love is to hurt on the inside, but also feel happiness in knowing what's best for another. I'm in awe over my mom especially, and how she's handled this whirlwind of events we've put upon her. True, true, love.

In my opinion, life is about the people who make it worth living. We definitely surround ourselves with the most unbelievable group. Their love and support is unwavering. These are some unbreakable bonds. So when we leave, I won't see it as an end, but a turn in a new direction. A shift to the mountains, and who doesn't love to visit the mountains, right?

As for our home, our very first...we've created a full life together. We've screamed until silence, been forced to grow up in unimaginable ways, but always managed to keep the silly in spite of it all. We've danced till our legs burn, cried until the salt ran dry, and still held on as both our best girls floated away. We've lived and lost, but most of all, we've loved. This home - our home - was filled and surrounded in it, always. We will take with us, and into our next, every ounce of those memories and that love.