Randomness (but with photos!)

I have a million thoughts running through my head right now. All of them jumbled, bouncing from subject to subject and back again.

I really don't know what my deal is lately. One minute I'm bubbly-happy, full of smiles and having a positive attitude. The next minute, I'm feeling gloomy and down. Then I'm just irritable or straight up pissy. I'm not pregnant, I'm pretty sure my thyroid medicine is okay, and while I'm not on my period, that could be a factor. I usually get really emotional the week before. Or it could just be all the damn stress in my life right now.

At least I can be thankful that Ray is gone. He went back home today. From the looks of the two enormous blue bins he'd brought over yesterday, I thought for sure he was planning on camping in our living room forever. Now that he's not living in my house, taking over my favorite spot, using the washer and dryer as his personal laundromat, acting like our kitchen is his very own gourmet restaurant, and I don't have to clean up after him, and he's not right in my face constantly... well, it's a lot easier to feel compassion for him. Is that terrible or what? My parents are way better at being a Christian than I am a lot of the time. They were able to welcome him into our home, let him use it as his home, be gracious, considerate, kind, generous, and donate their ears to listen to his rantings and ravings. Then calmly and lovingly give advice and help him work through his issues. It may only be a temporary fix, but hey... he went home to try and work things out with Pam so obviously something went right for now.

I, on the other hand, barely said two words to him and did my best to ignore his presence. Not blatantly or anything. I mean, I was polite and what-not. But I didn't go out of my way to make conversation or put him at ease. I was extremely irritated that he was here and now I feel like I failed at being a good Christian. I should have just followed my parent's lead.

But no. Because I was too wrapped up in the crap that was going on. Too worried about my sister. Too caught up in memories from the past; back when she was tweaking and the absolute fear that took a hold of my heart and was reflected on the faces of my parents when we heard the doctor's report. Too panicked at the thought of going through it all again. Too angry - with no person, or really anything, to blame and thus have a channel for the anger.

So yeah, I guess the point is simply that, while I'm relieved he's gone... I still feel like an asshole for not being nicer while he was here.

I have to work tomorrow and Wednesday, then I get three glorious days off. If the roads are safe by then (I'm hoping they will be! Four feet of snow wreaks havoc on travel, I tell ya!) I may take a trip down to GJ to see Little Shadow. Just seeing her face makes me smile.



My sister is talking about joining the navy again. She's talked on and off about it since she graduated this last May - but I'll believe it when I see it. I think if she does end up going, it will either make her or break her. It will either be the best experience of her life, or the worst.

What I PRAY will happen is that it gives her a newfound appreciation for her family, for the place that she calls home. That she will gain a sense of self and independence; she'll realize she doesn't have to have a man in the picture to be happy, whole, and complete. That she gains freedom from the pain that she's harboring in her heart and be rid of drugs - even pot - forever. I pray it will be the best experience of her life and she will see places she's never seen before, her eyes will be opened and her world will expand because of it. I hope she grows as a person and steps into her adulthood with a little more ease than what she's been having. I pray that things like honor, integrity, loyalty, honesty, self-discipline, and faith become the things she holds in the highest of regards.

Don't get me wrong. My sister is NOT a bad person. She was just kicked to the ground and while she was down, she had the crap beat out of her by life. It's going to take time for her to recover and heal; let wounds close and scar over. They will always be there, but perhaps the navy will give her something new, something bigger, to focus on.

That's IF she goes.

Ashley is beautiful:



She's an amazing musician. She can literally pick up an instrument and teach herself how to play it and play it well. She's fluent in Sign Language. She's intelligent, funny, sensitive, and kind-hearted. She's a champion for underdogs, bold, courageous, and not afraid to stand up for herself.

But about two years ago, everything she knew, trusted, and loved with all of her heart was taken in the blink of an eye. And I firmly feel that she is still scrambling on the ground. I think she's got the scattered pieces all gathered up; but now she doesn't know how anything fits. Even as I type that sentence, it glares back at me with "TRUTH" screaming out of the words. I didn't realize how true that is, until I seen it in front of me.

I feel like crying now. A few things are clicking - it's making me miss my sister. She's had so much taken from her through no choice of her own. She doesn't even realize what she's allowing to be stolen now because of it. Like her vibrancy and enthusiasm for LIFE. I'm talking about real life - not the next party. I wish she would come home at a decent hour so that we could sit down and talk, even if we have to have our parents there to "mediate." I miss her so much. I miss seeing her smile at me and hug me and hearing her say, "I love you" without irritation in her voice because I just pissed her off about something or other; but we all refuse to leave or get off the phone with one another without saying "I love you" - not matter what. Because you never know what will happen. I miss this:



Life was so much simpler back in the day...



Okay and just for good measure. Here are one of my fave pictures of each of us from when we were younger. Maybe because they are so typical of our personalities and I always laugh every time I see them.



Above you can see Ashley playing peek-a-boo.



Is it any wonder they called my brother "fridge"? My dad will tell you to this day how Matt matched him pancake for pancake when he was only two. That boy had hollow legs!



Haven't changed much. Still have the curly hair, still get that same look.

And because I'm in a "picture show" mood, here's one of the few of all three of us together. Taken the day Ashley was born.