I'm Just Walking

Geez louise, I haven't written in almost 6 weeks, you guys. I realized that earlier today, and I was trying to figure out why that is. I haven't been particularly busy, but I feel like I haven't stopped to catch my breath in a long time. Which got me thinking about Ben Rector (surprise surprise. my obsession is showing). In his song "I Like You" off the album The Walking In Between, Ben says that "Life is not the mountain tops, it's the walking in between, and I like you walking next to me" and I realized, I've just been walking in between.
Nothing monumental in my life has happened.

I'm just walking.

But it's been good walking.
It's been fun and it's been hard.
I've been learning a lot about my sin and my need for Jesus.
I've laughed so hard I've cried more times than I can count.
Friendships have deepened.
I rented puppies on the quad.
I drove to Maryland and back one weekend, and the next to Columbia and back, (which, added up, is about 25 hours of driving in 1 week. not doing that again any time soon).
I've gone to class and taken tests.
I saw Ben Rector in concert (which might be classified as a mountain, not walking. but it was perfect so I had to share that with you guys).
I've had coffee with friends.
I washed my sheets and towels, did the dishes, and reorganized my desk.

I'm just walking.

Since moving out of my parents house, I've realized what I miss most about living with them and things I miss from high school aren't the mountain tops. It's walking type things.
I miss sitting at the kitchen bar while my mom cooks, talking with her.
I miss coming home after a long day and laying on my sisters bed with her and the dogs.
I miss having the lake in my backyard and spending sunny afternoons on the boat with my dad and brothers.
I miss eating dinner with my family.

You see, it's not extravagant vacations or well planned day trips that we longingly remember once that phase of life has passed. Though those times are fun and make memories, we long for the normal. We long for the everyday things that brought us joy and comfort.
Happiness doesn't require us to spend lots of money to spend a week at a beach resort in the Bahamas.

Happiness is only real when shared with those that we love.

Got It From My Mama

We learn a lot from our parents. They're the ones who raise us. They have left their thumbprint on our hearts and the decisions we make flow out of the way we were brought up and what we were taught is important.

I've known for a while I'm more like my mom than my dad. It's more than just how I look, (thought we do look crazy similar sometimes. I mean, just look at that picture) but how I act. My mom and I both have typical middle child characteristics: we love to have fun, we're trailblazers, and we're strong.

I've picked up some other things from my mom in my 20 years of living with her.

I learned how to cook from my mom. How we cook might drive some people crazy, but I find it fun. You see, I haven't used a recipe for any of the meals I've made since moving into my apartment. I just kinda mix a bunch of stuff together until it looks about right.

Like today, for instance, I wanted to make white chicken chili. I went to the store and just bought a bunch of stuff that looked good, came home, stuck it all in the crock pot, and turned it on. Will it be good? Most likely. We'll see in about an hour. But for real, put enough spices on anything and you can make it edible. Sometimes you get duds, but you live and learn, right?

So mama, thanks for teaching me how to cook. Even though you can never make the same thing twice because you can't remember what you did, your food rocks.


While we're on the subject of food, I started a new endeavor today. This week I got allergy test results back. We were hoping that if we knew what I was allergic to and I could avoid it, that would help me feel better. I'm feeling a lot better now than I was a month ago, but I know I don't feel as good as I could. So I found out I'm allergic to gluten, dairy (which we knew), eggs (which I had suspected), soy, and the killer-- RICE. Who is allergic to rice?! Apparently I am. So today I woke up and decided I'm going to start eating clean and avoiding my 5 major allergens. Lots of fruits, veggies, chicken, and corn chips haha.

I have a feeling I'll be cooking all kinds of fun concoctions, so if you're feeling adventurous, come try my food! If you're allergic to anything, I can cater to the every need of your body or test buds.

Grandma's Stories: Falling In Love

Back in April, I started recording stories from Mommom (you can read the first few here)  because I knew one day they would mean so much to me. What I didn't realize is how soon the day would come when I would truly treasure them.
I'm at All In right now, and I'm supposed to be doing homework, but I found myself reading through these stories from my sweet Mommom, missing her, and wishing I could plop down on the couch next to her and share whats going on in my life just like I did every day last year. But she's with Jesus now, signing, dancing, and praising him with every fiber of her being. She has been made whole again. She's free.
So here is one of my favorite stories from Mommom. This is the story of how she met and fell in love with Granddad.

I was working in Atlanta, and Fritz was going to Georgia tech. The YMCA had dance classes for young people. He and his buddies would go, and me and my friends would go. He was in the class before me, and the teacher said, “You boys stay I need some boys to dance with the next group.” So they stayed in my class, and Fritz chose me for a partner. After a dance the teacher would say “Change partners” and he would whisper in my ear “We’re not going to change.” My friend Carolyn Taylor was from Atlanta and was not scared of anything. I was just a little country girl scared of everything. We went to Daytona Beach together and rented a room for a week. She could meet a boy and go out with him that night but boy I wouldn’t! My mama taught me to be afraid of boys because you never know what they’re going to do. The night I met Fritz, he said we should go downstairs to the coke machine and get a coke. There was no one else down there and when I came back Carolyn said “Oh Carrie, you didn’t go downstairs by yourself with a boy?!” She just couldn’t believe I would do that.

Fritz didn’t have a car so he got a taxi to come out to the house to see me. So I said, “If we’re going to go somewhere I’ll drive out, you don’t have to get a taxi to get me” so that’s what we did. The Varsity was diagonally across from the boarding house where Fritz was staying. He had already graduated and was doing graduate work. I thought I had really caught something, you know. I found someone who had already finished college who was still going to school.

When he first met me he told his friends “I’m going to marry that girl.” They said “No you’re not! She’s from the mountains, you don’t know that girl.” But he did.

He was working in Pensacola and would drive up to Georgia see me on the weekend. I always felt so bad because he wouldn’t go see his mother. Finally one day I said, “You have to go see her.” But he wouldn’t go without taking me even tough I had no business going. I said ok, we’d go on a Saturday and spend the day with her. I think that was the first time he ever brought a girl home so Mother decided he must really like me if he took me home.

All my sisters just thought he was the greatest, you know.

I thought Fritz had the prettiest smile I had ever seen on a man.

He was always such a gentleman. I guess that’s the thing that attracted me to him more than anything. A lot of boys I dated I felt like I had to push them off but I always felt very comfortable and safe with him.

The bridge in Atlanta that crosses 85 right there beside The Varsity. The first time he ever kissed me was right on that bridge. I thought, "I’ve never been kissed like that before! I must be in love." And I was.

Now, she stopped telling her story there, but there is so much more to this story. My grandpa asked her to marry him. She said no. She cried about it for days then changed her mind. We were talking about this one day, and she said something that's always made me laugh. She said, "Alyssa, I was young. You're young. You're a teenager. It's a teenagers right to change their mind about anything."

So, dear friends, if you're dating someone and they ask you to marry them and you say no, just know that it's your right to change your mind. I mean I'm pretty happy she changed her mind, because if she hadn't, I wouldn't be here. 

Facing My Fears

Guys, a monumental thing happened in my life last Friday.

I went to see a GI specialist with my mom. She has been going with me to all my appointments to have another pair of ears and use her pushy skills to make sure we're doing the right thing here.

Well anyway, the doctor wanted to run blood work to test for who knows what. So we were sent across the street to the hospital to see my favorite person in the hospital- the phelbotomist (I'm being sarcastic. I hate needles. Read my last post here which talks about the extent of my hate). 

So my mom and I are sitting in the waiting room. We'd been there for about 5 minutes (this is after being at the other office for like 3 hours) and my mom decided to go to the bathroom. I kid you not, 30 seconds after she left, this guy with mad scientist hair called me back so he could stab me in the arm and suck my blood out.

Without my mom.

I was about to tell him I needed to wait for my mom, but then I realized the past 2 times I've dealt with needles I've been ok. So what did I do? I braved the needles with just me and the crazy haired man.

And I was ok.

I didn't cry or freak out at all. I was totally calm through the whole thing.
I guess practice makes perfect, eh?

Life Keeps Moving On

This has probably been the hardest 6 months of my life. It's not that each day has been so challenging and I don't know how I'm going to make it. It's more when I look back I realize I just haven't felt good in a really long time.

There was one week, though, that I knew as I was living it, it was a doozy.

Thus was born, the hardest week of my life.

It all started Sunday evening. My family was in Anderson checking on Mommom (my dad's mom) because she was doing pretty bad. While they were gone, one of the massive storms that we've had throughout the summer hit.
So. Much. Rain. It was insane.
My mom called me on their way home and asked me to check the backyard and make sure the basement wasn't flooding. It wasn't, so I went back to watching Netflix (because I'm just an extremely productive member of society).
As I sat down, I was overcome with a sharp pain on the right side of my lower back.

OH MY GOODNESS.

I can't even begin to describe this pain to you. I thought I was dying. I just knew there was a little monster inside me, trying to devour me from the inside out and if my family didn't get home soon, they would come home to find the little monster sitting on the la-z-boy in my place.
It was horrible.

They came home, we called the doctor on call, and figured out I probably had kidney stones and was sent to the ER. That's when I was thanking Jesus he sent that storm earlier because there was NO ONE in the waiting room except a very sick little baby who got there literally 30 seconds before we did.

So while the baby was being triaged, I'm sitting there writhing in pain.
Now, the funny thing about pain is it makes your body do weird things.
This pain was no exception.
I started to lose the feeling in my hands but that was the least of my worries. I still feel like I'm dying.
Then I looked down, and noticed my hands looked kinda weird. Ok, really weird.

MY HANDS WERE LOOKING AT ME.

When you look down and your hands are looking right back at you, it's pretty unnerving. 

And they were stuck exactly like that. I could not move them.

I don't know if you know this or not, but that's not how hands normally look. 

Minor freak out going on. No lie.

Finally I was triaged, told to take deep breaths (which fixed my hands), and put in a room.

Then a very traumatic thing happened. They needed to put an IV in my arm to get some good pain killers in me. I welcomed the meds gladly, but I DON'T do needles. 

Here's the way I see it: God made our skin one big pice that sticks together so everything stays in our bodies. Why on earth do you want to puncture something so wonderful God made?! Pretty sure He would agree with me.
Needles are a no-no.

At any rate, I didn't fight it because I knew the pay-off would be so great. 

I made it through (with lots of tears), the meds kicked in, and I was in la-la land. 

They wrote me a prescription for pain meds and sent me on my marry way. 

I started throwing up so they gave me a basin to take home (just what I wanted! a souvenir!) 

We got home around 1am (I think, I don't really remember. It was late. I was in la-la land) and I crashed on the couch for the night. 

I woke up the next day with some pain, but as the day went on, my pain got better and better. Tuesday came and I was starting to do pretty good. Still exhausted but my body was kind of traumatized so that was expected. 

Now, here's where the week really got fun.

That weekend we were celebrating Meemee's 80th birthday (my mom's mom). We had 3 of Meem's 4 siblings fly in from all over the country, as well as my moms sister and her husband. Jenny picked our aunt and uncle from the airport and they came to the house. 

All of a sudden, I was struck down with pain once again. 

Oxycodone to the rescue! 

I spent the rest of the day doped up and woke up Thursday morning feeling pretty much the same. 

I went to my family doctor to see what we needed to do. My dad's mom was doing pretty bad so he went to go spend the day with her and his brother. 

Anyway, I'm still on Thursday and I was going to write up to Sunday. But honestly, I'm tired of writing at this point, so I'll break it down real simple.

Thursday: Mommom died. My mom and I cried our eyes out in the doctors office. In front of my doctor. Us Watson women like to keep it classy.

Friday: Hanging out with my moms aunts and uncle for my other grandma's 80th birthday. So much fun! They are quite a crew who I'm so glad to be related to.

Saturday: the actual 80th birthday party for Meem followed by the visitation for Mommom which I didn't make it to because I was still really sick.

Sunday: Mommom's funeral. I felt pretty horrible all day but survived on fruit gummies and granola bars. Meemee's siblings flew home and the craziness was over.

 Meemee's party on Saturday. Isn't she just adorable?!

So that, dear ones, was the hardest week of my life. I'm sharing it with you not for you to pity me, but as encouragement. (Also so you can laugh at how weird my hands looked). That week sucked. I cried more that week than I care to explain. 

But life isn't always fun. If life was always fun we'd never have to grow up and learn that things like needles really aren't as bad as they seem in your mind. Now I'm a pro at getting blood drawn or having an IV put in (just ask my mom. I still make her go with me, though). If this had never happened, I would still be living in fear of needles. 

From the wise words of my favorite singer/song writer, Ben Rector "Here's the truth, life sucks sometimes. When it hurts so bad that you can't go on, life keeps moving on."
Ben's got a point, you guys. Life keeps going.
It doesn't matter if I feel bad or my grandma died or we're having a super fun party celebrating Meem-- life keeps moving on.

But even with the crap that happened that week, there were rays of sunshine that shined through.
The little victories that gave hope.
Celebrating Meemee and spending time with her and her siblings.
The times when Jesus gave scripture to comfort and encourage me.
The kind gestures from friends.

Even when things suck, God's got you there for a reason. It hurts really bad and you may cry a lot, but it's all part of growing up and learning to trust Him even when it feels like everything is out of control.

The great thing is, now I can look back and laugh at the weird way my hands contorted and crying in front of my doctor and living off of fruit gummies for a week.

I still miss Mommom and want to talk with her about things going on in my life, and grieving her loss is going to take more time than I realized. But now I can look back and laugh at all the wonderful times we shared together and fully enjoy those memories.

So when life feels like a big pile of poop, it's ok. It won't last forever. Jesus is faithful. Life keeps moving on.

I love My Mommom

I love my grandma.

And sometimes love hurts. 

Love makes you venerable. Love means that saying goodbye hurts. It hurts because you've opened up to someone and built a relationship. Love means there is something worth missing if it's taken away. 

That old saying "it's better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all" just keeps popping back into my mind and I wonder if I really believe that. Do I believe all this pain and sadness is worth the love of my Mommom? 

Without a doubt in my mind I believe that it is totally worth it. 

All the late night snuggles we shared just a few months ago. 

The words she spoke one night while scratching my back "I'm so glad we can have these times together."

The afternoons spent making cookies together. 

The summer days spent in the pool and riding the golf cart out to the garden to pick blueberries.

All the meals spent at O'Charley's and Chick-fil-A where we would both order the same thing every time, even when we said we wanted to try something new. 

Watching Duck Dynasty together and laughing at all the crazy things they would do or say.

Her persistent questioning every time she saw a picture of me with a boy ("No, Mommom, he's not my boyfriend").

The way she would tell the same stories over and over until I had them memorized.

The way her face would light up when any of her family would walk into her house. 

Her constant encouragement. 

The way food=love, so you could never leave her house hungry. 

The way she cared relentlessly for the people she loved. 
The pancakes she made that were the size of a large person's head.

The birthday cookies we got when we were younger.

The year I was trying my hardest to stay up until midnight to watch the ball drop, bringing in the new year, but I was just so little and so tired my tiny eyes would't stay open so I fell asleep on her lap.
Her constant upbeat attitude.
The pantry that was always stocked with swiss cake rolls, oatmeal cream pies, and devils food cake cookies. 

The way she believed in me and told me I was capable of doing anything I wanted. 

The trips she would take her grandchildren on (she took me on a cruse to the Bahamas.) 

Every Easter, Thanksgiving, and Christmas celebrated at her house, never lacking any food or love. 

The way she taught me compassion. Not just through words but through her actions of delivering meals on wheels for years and taking me along a time or two. 

The nights we would stay up far too late playing rummikub and becoming so tired we were silly.

The candy jar that never ran dry supplied just for her grandchildren.

I'm so proud to call myself the 8th grandchild of this wonderful woman who I was blessed to live with last fall.
I love you, Mommom.
I miss you.

My Apparel Of Choice

4 DAYS 4 DAYS 4 DAYS!!!! I'M LEAVING FOR THE UK IN 4 DAYS!
I'm not excited or anything, though.

I've been packing and unpacking and repacking and buying new things for the past 3 weeks now but I think I've finally decided on what to bring. Trying to live out of a little tiny cary-on in unpredictable weather for 3 weeks is no easy task. I'm going to break it down for you because, well, I'm pretty proud of the way this has all worked out. At first it was madness. All of a sudden, there became a method to my madness and it's pure brilliance! So I'll share.

4 short sleeve shirts. 

Each is colorful or patterned

3 long sleeve shirts.

Each is colorful and can have a layer underneath or over if needed for extra warmth.

2 pairs of dark-wash jeans

1 black skirt

Each can be worn with any shirt packed.

1 sweater

2 cardigans

1 raincoat/jacket

All are dark colors and can be worn with ANY shirt or bottoms packed.

Comfy clothes for layering and/or sleeping.

1 pull over

1 big long sleeved t-shirt

1 pair of shorts

2 pairs of leggings 

I plan on sleeping in the t-shirt and leggings because it's what I normally sleep in, it's easy, and can be worn as real cloths if I need to. If I'm cold I can add the pull over and the other leggings. Also the leggings are nice to have because I can wear them under my jeans if it's an exceptionally cold day.

And here are my lovely 3 scarves! 

2 patterned

1 plain

The beauty of this system is simple- have colorful shirts and black or gray sweaters/cardigans. 

Anything can be worn with everything! 

It sounds like I'm putting way too much thought into this, and maybe I am, but I'm not going to be stuck with a shirt that can only be worn with 1 pair of pants and 1 cardi (even if it is my party cardi). 

This girl has options! 

So now you know way more about my wardrobe choices for my trip than you ever cared to know. 

You're welcome.