Just because I’m losing doesn’t mean I’m lost.

“Where, O death, is your victory?
Where, O death, is your sting?”
-1 Corinthians 15:55

Dear Grandpa,

Thank you.  Over and over again this weekend, as I thought about the life you lived here and the man you were to so many people, those two words were the ones that kept running through my mind.  Thank you for being you, for following and serving God with all of your heart, and for being a human picture of love unlike any other I’ve ever seen.  There are so many wonderful memories that blend together behind that smile of yours.  So genuine, so peaceful. A heart overflowing with the desire to love those around you in any way you could.

I’ll never forget the way you loved us, the way you lit up when any one of us entered the room; but the image that will forever be in my mind is of you and Grandma.  Never have I seen such devotion, and I can’t help but be sincerely joyful that you are together again at last.  I can still hear the way you spoke to her, softly, gently; always calling her “Love.”  The way you stuck by her side and cared for her for so many years.  Such absolute dedication and adoration; a beautiful picture of a loving marriage 53 years in the making amidst a world of divorce.

This weekend, we were all together for the first time in years.  Our house was loud and crazy and full of the family that you loved so much.  Filled with joy and memories and celebration of the life that you lived and how each of us exist because of it.  I miss you like crazy and always will until we’re reunited, but until then I’ll keep this picture close.  The picture of this weekend with you and Grandma right there with us.  Martini glasses and cigarettes (hey, it’s heaven, right?) held high.

Until then, so long, Grandpa.  Or shall I say “too-de-loo?”

Love, Lindsay

Suddenly goodbye.

Dearest Heather,

I’m not really sure what to say, bud.  You were one of my first true friends, from 7th grade note passing to college chipotle catch up sessions.  You taught me integrity, courage and genuine joy.  You were my sidekick through the awkward years and it didn’t matter that we didn’t care about fashion, or being popular. We had our own fun, and that was enough.

Your house was the first place I drove when I got my license.  Your phone number was one of the only ones I memorized.  You’re in pictures at our family cookouts, an extension of us.

I’ll never forget the goofy things we did, like driving all the way to the movie theater just to buy a bucket of popcorn to eat while we watched the Little League World Series from your couch.  I’ll never forget what a good friend you were to me in high school, when your athletic ability far exceeded mine.  You were the varsity star that sat with the freshman team nobody on the bus ride home.  The one who never left anyone out, no matter what.

My mom says she keeps waiting for this to all be a lie.  For all of us to wake up and find out that you’re not gone, it was a mistake.  Part of me feels that way too, but the other part can sense that we won’t be that lucky.

I don’t know what else to say but thank you.  Thank you for being at my side for so many years, for always greeting me with a smile and a hug.  Your face is etched into my mind, your life deeply intertwined with my own.  I love you Fanny, and always will.

Your partner in crime,

Lindsay.

Old married woman.

Never pick sides
Never choose between two
But I just wanted you, I just wanted you
-Vampire Weekend

1. As of today, I’ve been married for 6 months. In some ways, that’s weird. In most ways, though, it feels like we’ve already been married for much longer than that.

2. Since approximately January 2, I’ve been pouting that I missed the boat on the “take a picture everyday for a year” gig.  I’ve recently decided that the calendar can’t hold me back. I’m going to take a picture everyday for a year starting February 1. Eat that, New Year’s.

3. I’m still unsure of how I always end up with overhead marker all over my hands. It’s inevitable. Will this still happen when I’ve been a teacher for 10 years? 20?

4. I finally have my husband hooked on the best TV show of all time. (“Friends,” of course.) We’re currently midway through season 3. I’m the obnoxious person that starts to laugh before the funny things happen. (I’m an anticipatory laugher?)

5. I truly love making lists. And I love that tomorrow is Wednesday.

Big girls still whine.

A few weeks ago, my husband had been asked to go on several “just guys” trips, which sent me into a whining frenzy.  I was tired of being left out, and began feeling sorry for myself that I didn’t have any friends of my own.

That week, I stayed after school until 5:30 talking to a fellow teacher about nothing school related.

Then I had one of the best conversations I’ve ever had with my best friend.

And another friend came up to visit out of the blue.

And just this morning, I was given a coffee mug that perfectly matches my favorite one.

So here I am, publicly revoking my temper tantrum and thanking the people in my life that care about me. Misconceptions blown out of the water.  Heart happy, life full.

Midweek thoughts

1. Today I ran 3 miles for the first time in awhile.  It’s good to be back.

2. I can tell what kind of mood my kids are in by how many of them sing the national anthem in the morning.  If it’s only one or two of them, I know they are tired or in a bad mood.  But on days like today, when almost the entire class sings, it’s a sure sign that they are bubbly and jittery and ready to go.  I’ll take the latter any day… even if it is exhausting.

3. I’m afraid that old age is setting in early for multiple reasons including (but not limited to): the fact that I want to go to bed at 8pm every night, my patch of gray hair, and my forgetful mind.  Today, in the process of walking down the hall, I forgot what I was going to ask the person I was headed to see.  Who knows what will happen if I make it to 80!

4. I’ll never grow out of wanting snow days.

5. I need to make more time to read for fun.  The new Donald Miller book is calling me from the coffee table… but it’s underneath all the papers I need to grade.

6. Despite my (oftentimes overly) emotional personality, I’m learning to decide which conflicts are worth my energy and which ones are not.  Sometimes, it’s just better to say “hakuna matata” and move on with your day.

7. Teaching is the most difficult and time consuming thing that has every existed in my life.  And I love it.

Well hello again.

All of my life
In every season
You are still God
I have a reason to sing
I have a reason to worship
-Hillsong

For those of you unfamiliar with my old blog, writing is one of my best outlets/processing mechanisms, and I have virtually abandoned it over the past few months outside of journaling.

Since my last post, I got married, got a job, moved in with a boy, and began my “real life” as a teacher.  Those are the big things, at least.  Among many others, however, I am continually learning to cope with change and the unpredictable nature of all that is around me.

This fall, we found out that our next door neighbor and one of our best friends, Aaron Marsh, had a brain tumor.  The long and short of it is that he has an aggressive type of cancer and within a matter of weeks, he and his wife Ali moved out to get treatment at the Cleveland Clinic. (You can read about his story here.)

A few weeks prior to that, we also learned that one of my aunts had breast cancer for the second time.  Upon hearing the news, my uncle arranged a few family members to pray each day of the week for my aunt’s complete healing- that after her treatments, she would be 100% cancer free.  So, on Tuesdays I prayed.  And on Christmas Day my aunt learned that she is 100% cancer free.

It was the combination of these events and a recent conference that I attended that made me truly miss blogging.  Now, you may ask yourself: “how the heck are those two things related?!” And I can tell you with confidence that processing my thoughts and prayers and wonderings and revisiting them later is the number one way I see God at work in my life.  You wouldn’t believe the prayers that have been answered, silly and small, big and overwhelming; the peace I’ve felt amidst hundreds of uncertainties.

I’ve got a lot to learn, and a lot to figure out.  A few things are certain, though.  God is good and knows me better than I know myself.