A Dream For Tomorrow.

I think everyone has had those nights where sleep doesn't come until the wee hours of the morning and laying in bed with your thoughts isn't the companionship that you hoped for. The mental lists, the inner reflections, the regrets, even the triumphs, flood your mind like a broken pipe bursting with energy. But it's 3 am, how could my best ideas, most thought out plans, come at 3 am? You know they say, ideas in the middle of the night are never that good in the morning, and I tend to disagree. See, often in the night probably around 1:30 am or so, my thoughts turn into my dreams. Not dreams of far of places, or heroic events, but my life dreams. Dreams that are achievable but not yet attainable. Noble dreams of a career, family, what I want my house too look like, what the people in my life will look like and be like, where i'll live, what my new hobbies will be, oh how the possibilities are endless at 3 am. It's 2 am, and here I lay in my bed, computer on top of my knees, dreaming about tomorrow and the next day and the next day. For just a moment, a small second perhaps, my insecurities, fears and adulthood pain, leave for a moment and I drift off to sleep with a smile on my face.

Impacted

There are times in life where things really impact you and make a difference in your life. Times where you wish you could relive certain moments, times where something simple really makes you feel blessed and loved, and times where bad things impact your life by making you learn hard life lessons forcing you to see things in another light.
This last Thursday I was walking to work in the morning as I usually do, cutting through the parking lot of my apartment complex, when I noticed that my car had definitely been impacted by another car. It kind of shocked me at first and I just stood there starring, the right side of my car was pretty badly dented and impacted in pretty far and there is significant damage. There was no note on my windshield, no sign of the impact(er's) remorse, nothing to really make me feel better about the fact that someone just hit my car and then left me with the damage. I was never really angry about this, but I definitely felt a weight added to my shoulders and it just felt like one more thing added to my plate.
Later on that day I was walking home from class, thinking a lot about what had happened and thinking about how the other person who hit my car might feel; guilt, anxiety, remorse, frightened to come forward with the truth, etc. I was approaching the cross walk to get to the other side of the street, when a car suddenly struck a girl riding her bike in the crosswalk. The girl was significantly injured and the ambulance came and took her away immediately. It was right then and there that I felt so grateful for the dent in my car, and how it is only a dent (that suddenly got significantly smaller in my head). My car it's an object, a valuable thing none the less but a 'thing' all the same, it gets me around and is a huge blessing in my life but at the same time not worth hurting another person or myself. I am so thankful that nobody got hurt in my little hit and run and f0r the forgiveness that entered my heart that day. Truly it was just a small impact on my car that ended up having a huge impact on my heart.

A heros hero.

A couple of years ago, I got a call that has haunted me ever since I uttered the word; "hello". I can tell you exactly where I was, what I was wearing, and who I was with, it's strange how our memories won't let us forget scary moments in our lives. You just never really expect to get a phone call from your sister telling you that you're dad's been in a scuba diving accident and went to the hospital via ambulance. It straight up scared me, here's a man i've known my whole life, a strong, healthy dad in the hospital after almost drowning to death in the ocean, I was scared and emotional. It's been about 3.5 years since that's happened and i'm still not over it (even though my dad is) every time my dad gets in the water to go for a dive he knows the rule and has to call me right after he's gotten out to tell me how it went and so that I know he's still alive.
My dad and I wow, we've had our moments, rain and shine he's one of the two people in this world that knows me the best, probably better than I know myself. He calls my bs, loves me when i'm being ridiculous, gives me grocery money, supports me in my dreams and aspirations, and laughs with me when I tell him about the stupid things I do with my friends. I don't know what I'd do without him and his wisdom. He's not the biggest of men, not a man's man if you will, but hes a hero's hero and he's my hero. If you look at his track record it's pretty much amazing what the man's done with his life, supporting a family of 6 (and one dog RIP besitos), building a very successful business from the ground up, serve a mission in a foreign country, and remaining a very active member of the church are just a few of the amazing things that he has done to bless my life. I love you dad, thank you for everything that you do.

It came in the form of a box...

I've never had such a hard semester of school and through the hard times, long days, and endless nights of cramming, it's such a comfort to know that I have the support of my family. That although they all can't be with me through this trying time in my life, that they send their love from afar. I was so grateful for the package that my parents put together for me, it was like a survival kit from them, packed with all my favorite foods, a card, a new phone, but even more so jam packed with their love and support for me! It meant a lot to me, it still does; it's sitting on my desk as a reminder to me that in this life I'm not alone. In this big world it's so easy to get caught up on our own problems and trials but really it's about the little things that make a difference in our own lives and in the lives of others. So yes, Love came to me in the form of a box a beautiful package from my parents. Thank you Mom and Dad for your continuous support and love, you mean so much to me.

Domestication.

I've never been a really girlie girl. Or at least I never thought of myself as one. Sure I like clothes, and use make up and do like to shop, but I never really liked to bake, cook, or be very you know, WOMANLY and lately I've lost any interest in motherly or womanly duties. I haven't held a baby since Christmas when I saw my niece and nephew, my laundry pile is always piled high and 3 baskets full when I finally get around to doing it, my bed hardly ever gets made until right before I get in it at night, and meals if that's what you call them consist of whatever I can find or make within the 20 minute time frame that I have to eat it in.
This semester however I've made a goal to eat better, exercise more, and to not put sleep off. The beginning of the semester was more of a challenge living with 5 other girls and then being in Salt Lake almost every weekend. But these last two weeks, I've had 2 great dinners with friends and family (my brother Michael) it was so great to sit around a table with friends and enjoy a good, well balanced, home cooked meal. Last night I invited over my guy friends Jamie and Lynn (who both funny enough have unsex names and who we had a dinner club with last semester), my other guy friends Jake and Joe, and then two of roommates, for a great home cook meal I prepared all by myself (which I was very proud of!) We had a Pot Roast, Mashed potatoes, rolls, green bean casserole, salad, and cake for dessert. Jamie, Lynn, and Kelly (roommate from last semester) and I used to have a dinner group once a month, but since she's left we haven't had one in for awhile. It was great, the food was delicious and the company was great. Every Sunday sometimes I get a little homesick for family dinners and home cooked meals, so it was nice to be with good friends to enjoy a great meal! I felt so domesticated.

Reap the Rewards of Your Labors.

Hard work it really does pay off and it feels so good when you reap the rewards from it all. It's those times that make the late nights, all the sacrifices, and even the suffering worth it. Today I had an oral exam in my Communicable and Non Communicable Disease class. The exam consisted of memorizing over 39 diseases, their symptoms, and possible treatment plans, all communicated orally, one on one to the professor. I studied for days, hours, made flashcards, took notes, reviewed the lectures, read the book and come 12:10 today it felt like I had forgotten everything that I had studied for the past week, and as I sat on the cold linoleum floor outside my professor's office, my heart sank into my shoes. My confidence that I had had 30 minutes prior to making the long walk to his office seemed to be nonexistent and gone, but as soon as I got into that office and remembered that I had given it my best effort and preparation, I rocked it! In the end I scored 49/50 on the Oral exam and even better my professor said that I had scored the highest out of his two sections. I beamed. I'm grinning ear to ear as I write this. The hard work is really worth it. Not only did I learn that and see that today, I know that this applies to more than school, or an oral test that I'm not going to remember in years to come, but more importantly that hard work is a life long process in every aspect of life. With relationships, with work, with our Heavenly Father. When it comes to hard work, I'm going to keep at it. Work my butt off to make my dreams come true and one day I'm going to sit back and think about all the blessings I've received from my hard work and from my Heavenly Father. :) :) :)

Minus One.

Well, I'm back to the single life and my mom said; "THAT'S OKAY!" And as hard as it has been this last week or so, those two little words have helped me throughout this whole process. To keep a level mind, to think of the eternal perspective or the big picture and although I really feel true sorrow, honest to my core, I know that, THAT'S OKAY! The feelings of; loss, hurt, and real grief got to be so overbearing that I finally broke down and just sobbed and cried to my mom for a good amount of time over the phone, the whole time she was just so supportive and
loving of my decision and one of the hardest decisions I've had to make in a long time. And although the decision was necessary it still hurt a great deal, and was sad and scary. It's days and times like these that the little things are so important and eventually they really turn into the big things that keep us alive. An unexpected card from my sister who I'm sure sent it before she knew what happened but arrived with good timing, A sunny day, A diet coke from my roommate, a long talk with a good friend, and all the love and support that I've felt from all of those near and far. People say; 'It's not the end of the world!' but it was the end of that world that I shared with him and it was a hard end. I'm still not over it and have my moments of weakness still, but I know that That's okay. Now to just let time do its healing thing...