Chistina Perri Distance Cover by Brooke Squared (:

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"Fly baby, fly!" - My most important lesson.

             My great grandmother and I are very close. Extremely close. Like a blazing chainsaw two centimeters from your nose, close. My dad used to say we were twins, just born 60 years apart. We've always shared some inexplicable, out-of-this-world connection with each other.

            She never failed to support me. It seemed like she came to every one of my gymnastics meets. Even from when I was young, when my gymnastics meant sticking my butt in the air, tucking my head, and gracefully flopping to the ground, she was right there cheering me on, telling me l looked better than any of the girls out there! And the boys, “they weren't even competition, babydoll!”

            My life was brought to an abrupt halt when my great grandma suffered a life-altering stroke that left her eyesight completely wiped out. My grandma was officially blind. I knew things would be different, but it was nothing like I expected. She still made it to all my important nine-year-old events, maybe even more than before. And, although she couldn’t see a thing, she still told me I looked better than all the other girls.

            Through all the big moments she told me to shine. Shining was important to her. Shining and flying.

            A few years later was my state-qualifying gymnastics meet – a big deal and a lot of stress for my eleven years. But, of course, my grandma was coming!

After doing fairly well on all my other events, the dreaded beam came next. I don’t know how anyone could like the beam. Who takes pleasure in risking your life parading back and forth on a six-inch-wide tree branch?! Countless bruises and falls were indication of the stress of being up there. And I hated every minute of it.

But, I came to conquer! I slowly took a deep breath and stepped up beside my wooden contester. I saluted the judges and mounted the beam. Determined, I hit every move with grace and strength, every turn with ease, and every trick with perfection. But then came my scissor-double turn leap – an impossible leap to perform on solid ground, let alone this tree branch! But I took a deep breath, imagining perfection. I focused in, took two running steps, then suddenly, as if on cue, my feet left the ground as I heard the unmistakable voice of my grandmother yell, “Fly baby, fly!”

            Shocked, embarrassed, and a deep shade of red, I landed my leap, wavering for only a second before finishing my routine.

I placed first on beam that day. I don’t know why and I sure as hell don’t know how! At dinner that night we laughed about the odd coincidence while my grandma just smiled and smiled.

            Years later, I still think back to that moment. Although she’s gone now, I still try to figure out the meaning behind those words. Part of my thinks she was just cheering me on. She couldn’t see what was happening and coincidently chose that precise moment in time to yell those simple, meaningless words of encouragement. But the other parts of me scream for a deeper meaning.

            Maybe, through all of God’s many, many ways, it was a coded message just for me; That we’ll all go through life, some of us stuck in the same, old routines, letting others judge, rank, and score us based on how THEY think we are doing. And we let that control us. But the brave ones know, there’s something bigger and better awaiting us! All we have to do is take our own leap of faith – no matter how impossible it may seem. We may have moments where we feel week, we’ll waiver and shake – much like a plane during takeoff, life’s going to be rough before it can get better….before you can soar!

            So, fly baby fly? Oh grandma, for you, I’ll try everyday.

Lessons Learned (:

       I guess you could say that for me, high school was a roller coaster. Freshmen year in Wickenburg was the time of my life with my very best friends. We lived hard, and laughed even harder. We didn't worry about fitting in or being "popular", but we sure as hell got the butterflies when those senior boys would walk into class. We were young and carefree.
     I'll never forget the day my parents called me into their room and gave me the news that we were moving to Holbrook. My little 15-year-old heart was crushed. But I packed up the boxes I knew all too well, and loaded up the U-Haul one more time. My sophomore year began a few short weeks later and I was all too ready for it to be over as soon as it started....but then I met....him.
     I guess he was nothing special, nothing out of the ordinary, but then neither was I. But somehow he was perfect to me. He said hi to me the first time after soccer. Later, we were introduced by a close friend at a soccer game - something we both loved - and ever since then, my life really hasn't been the same.
     I guess I fell too hard and much too fast, but once I was down, it was hard to get back up. I never expected him to be such a big part of my life. I guess you could say that he was my first love...but I was far from his. People warned me about the way he was, but I couldn't listen to them. He had become everything I wanted. I tried everything I could to be the perfect girl for him. School became less about grades and more about looks. My relationships with my friends slowly melted away. Even soccer became less of something I wanted to do and more of something I did to see him. In a sense, I lost my purpose and my opinions of things and did what I thought he would be happy with.
     Things didn't exactly turn out the way I had planned, or hoped. We had more break ups and make ups than I'd like to count. Hearts were broken, many bridges were burned, and tears were spilt, but I don't regret a moment of it. If anything, I've learned the most from him.
     You can't live your life for someone else. That's a big thing he taught me. Regardless of circumstances, nothing you change about yourself should impress anyone. Someone someday will learn how you laugh, how you eat, what you look like under your make up. He'll know how much you love chocolate, how hyper you can get from sugar, how cranky you are in the mornings and how obnoxious you can be when you're tired, and he'll love you FOR that. He taught me to always believe in myself; sometimes confidence is the greatest thing you can wear. Whether you mess up or succeed, if you do it confidently, no one will know the difference. I learned that true friends are there for you through EVERYTHING no matter what. I learned that things always happen for a reason, even if we don't know what that reason is, God does. And lastly, that no matter what it throws at you, life goes on.

     An unknown author once wrote, "Some people are meant only to stay in your heart....not in your life," and that's the lesson I've come to understand most. Although we're great friends now, he's not a big part of my life the way he used to be. And I've come to accept that. I never thought that through it all, he'd be the one I'm most appreciative of. Without him, I don't know who I would be today. Every tear that had to fall from my eyes, and every day I wondered how I'd get through the night, I grateful for every scar. I'm glad that now, I can look back through the tears, smile and say, "Thanks for the memories, but most importantly, thanks for the lessons."

My Sister, my Best Friend

 

     Today is my very best friend's birthday. And I'm not ashamed to say that my best friend in the whole, wide world is my very own little sister, Staci! 

     When we were little, life wasn't remotely the way it is now. Staci and I practically hated eachother. I thought I was much too old, and much too cool to hang out with my baby sister. After all, she was three years younger than me! And when you're a cool nine year-old, your six year-old sister following you around is an udder disaster. I wanted to be mature and independent like my older sister, Kelsey, so ironically, I followed HER around like a lost puppy. When Staci would try to come with us, I'd yell at her and tell her she was too young and that we didn't want her there. She tried to copy me at everything and I would get so frustrated! We'd often play hide-and-go-seek together. . . or as I liked to call it, hide-and-NO-seek. The poor girl would hide for hours at a time. But, needless to say, in return she was quite the little brat to me, and the BIGGEST tattle tell I'd ever met. I guess we had a typical big sister-little sister relationship. We got along sometimes..... on occasion.... maybe..... when the weather was permitting....if you got lucky.

     But somewhere in the course of my short eighteen years of life, this crazy girl turned from my worst nightmare, into my best friend. I don't know when and I sure as hell don't know how, but it happened.

     I tell her everything. And if you don't think I mean that, I dare you to quiz her. She knows more about me sometimes than I know of myself. Talking to her is as easy as talking to myself in the mirror. I trust her with everything. She's one of the few people that, regardless of what's going on in her life, she's never lied to me, ditched me, played me, or hurt me. When she hears crazy rumors about me, she never believes. She doesn't even question it. When the parents are fighting, we cry together. When all hell as broke loose and I'm mad as mad can be, she's right by my side ready to karate chop whoever I tell her to. When we talk about a boy I like, she just smiles her reassuring smile and tells me it'll all work out, even though we both know I'll never give it a chance to. When life's handed out all it's lemons, she's there to help me sell them on Ebay.

     I know we'll be there for eachother forever. Through college, weddings, jobs, and baby diapers. I know she'll always be the one watching out for me, making sure nothing goes wrong and I don't do anything stupid, and she knows I'll be doing the exact same.

     With her, I never worry about boys coming between us. No boy would dare do such a thing. I don't worry about us growing apart or not having enough time together. I know as long as I have breath to breathe, she'll be here for me.

     I owe her all I am and will ever be. I owe my partial sanity to my loyal, wonderful, crazy, gorgeous little sister. Happy Birthday Staci! (:

 

Sunday School Life Lessons

      As a tiny, little girl in Sunday School, our teacher would always tell us "Do unto others as you'd have them do unto you." To my little kid brain, this meant be nice to everyone because you want everyone to be nice to you. It also meant that at snack time, you better share your Goldfish because you want everyone to share their food with you later on too. Well, it still does mean that to some degree. But now that life has brought harder circumstances and more difficult situations, this principle is a lot harder to live by. It's not about just being nice anymore...and it's definitely not about the Goldfish.
      Being a teenager brings on so much heartache, yet at the same time, so much excitement. You have the freedom and the power to be just about whatever or whoever you want to be. But there are the obstacles. There will always be obstacles, and I think I'm barely grasping this concept. There will always be things in your way that try to keep you from achieving your goals and becoming everything you could ever dream of. There will be the obstacles that try to keep you from doing what you want to do. For me in my life, these obstacles often come in the form of people.
     Too many times have people betrayed me - people that I let into my life. All too often I am told of incidents where close friends failed to be loyal. I can remember countless nights where there was more crying done than sleeping. But I know I'm not the only one. Many lives have similar, and often worse, stories like mine. But sometimes I find myself questioning what I did to deserve this. I didn't do anything wrong to them, so why are they treating me like this? The question seemed to haunt me a lot of the time.
     It took quite a few heart-wrenching prayers and tear-stained pillow cases before I realized a few things. I can't control how people treat me, not matter how hard I try. And, regardless of what I do, I can't always make everyone happy. I'm going to screw up, but the people that stick by my side through it all, are the people worth caring about.
     When I was talking with a friend about this subject, a few names came up that I soon categorized as the three people that had hurt me the most in my life. After crying a little bit, I was given arguably the best advice I've received in a long time. It was something like....
      "People come into your lives as lessons. Everyone does. The hardest thing you will have to do, is to forgive them. Yes, they messed up a lot of things for you. Yes, they screwed up your emotions, played with your mind, your heart, your everything. But you have the choice here. Are you going to continue to give them that window? Are you gonna let them have the power to make you cry? You could be so happy without them. Yes, you might have to tolerate them for now, but soon you'll be out in this incredible world, free to do whatever you could imagine! But the most freeing thing you can do right now, is to forgive them. Let go of what they have done to you, and what they might do to you. The damage has already been done. Forgive them and move on."
     So, do unto others as I'd have them to unto me. . . .I will. . . . Regardless of the times you have hurt me, regardless of the fears I have because of you, the memories that make me shutter, the crushed dreams, the failed plans, the pain I experience, the tears I cry, the worries I share, and the scars I bare, regardless of how hard it is, I just hope you know.... I forgive you (:

   

Heroes

     January 2nd, 2013 is a day I'm not likely to ever forget. No, it's not my birthday or a super special holiday. I didn't win the lottery or sell a platinum album. But on this day, I was forced to be totally dependent and in turn, I got to see the incredible traits and characteristics that some  of the most precious people in my life hold.
     The story starts with the boots, my never been worn, too big, brown, Christmas boots. I was supposed to go to Show Low with my family the week before to return them, but I had chosen to stay home instead, convincing myself that the opportunity would arise where I would get to go to Show Low by myself. This seemed like a much more relaxing, as well as exciting, trip.
     After my parents told me I couldn't go on the 1st because of possible drunk drivers, they finally said yes and let me go on the 2nd. I banged on my little sister's door, "Staci! Come to Show Low with me! I'll buy you something!" Soon, my best friend (otherwise known as my little sister) came rushing out of her room, dressed and ready to go. We both begged my mom to take her car because my cheap little ghetto-mobile had a missing tail light and wasn't good for long trips; the steering was messed up, the old tires weren't aligned too well, and it was hard to shift. But my mom said no, so we headed out to my little car, still happy to get to go. I threw the boots in the back seat, and we headed off toward Show Low.
     We were jamming to music and talking about boys when my sister reminded me to put my seat belt on. I was usually pretty good about wearing my seat belt when driving with other people, but I had a bad habit of forgetting it when I was the one driving. We both clicked on our seat belts and continued our crazy music session, noticing all the traffic on the road that day.

     I could have sworn what took maybe seven seconds, stretched out into ten minutes. I took my eyes off the road to look for the CD my sister was wanting. I looked up, only to see my car heading straight for a mile post. I had drifted off the road and was in the gravel on the shoulder. I jerked the steering wheel to the left, barely missing the mile marker, but I had over-corrected and I knew it. My car started spinning. I don't know how or why there weren't cars coming from either direction. Something should've hit us by now, I remember thinking, praying it hit my side and not my sister's. Then, as if by magic, the car started rolling. I never understood that, but it did. We rolled off the road, through a ditch and stopping only when a tree hit my window and door. I turned to my sister to make sure she was alright. I looked up and saw the enormous dent in the roof of the car, right above my sister's head. I frantically searched her head for blood, bumps, or any sign of bruises, but to my surprise, she was fine.
     We both sat there for what seemed like eternity, but was probably only a few seconds, before I noticed the traffic on the road again. Cars were passing us. They were passing us!! Didn't they know we had just survived death's grasps?! But then a sickening thought hit my stomach. If they had driven by only seconds before, they very well would've hit us. We wouldn't be alive.
     Just then, an unfamiliar truck pulls up. A middle aged man jumps out and runs over to where we were stuck. He pries my sister's door open and asks if we're alright. "I'm fine," I told him, "but I think my sister needs help!" Within minutes, this heroic man whom I would later find out was named Justin, had informed my parents and the police about what had happened, got my sister to stop crying, and had given her his jacket to stop her from shaking.
     When the Highway Patrol officer arrived, Justin made sure everything was alright before he got back in his truck and drove away. The officer helped me out of the car, and because he knew me and my parents, hugged me and told me everything would be alright. It was then that I started crying. Not so much because my car was totaled or I was scared to face my parents, but because I realized that regardless of how many cars had passed before somebody stopped, somebody did stop. Justin stopped. He took the time to care, as did the Highway Patrol officer. They took the time out of their busy lives to care for me and my sister, and to go that extra mile to make sure everyone was okay. It's people like these that keep my world a happy one. Thank you to all the heroes in my life.
   

Good > Evil

     Good vs. evil is a common story plot, and a common fight in everyday life. This week, I personally took the challenge to look for those precious moments where the good overcomes the evil. Rather than listening to all the negativity in the news feeds, I wanted to believe that mankind has a certain desire to be generous, to be compassionate, and to be kind. So I set out to prove just that, learning a lesson or two in the meantime. 

     The story starts on my mother's birthday. I had planned all week on what gifts to buy for her and what I could do to make her day just as special as she was to me. After all, without her, I wouldn't be here! So I thought and thought, and consulted many people until finally I came up with the perfect birthday plans. I bought her a blender - but not just any ordinary blender. I bought her THE blender. The one she had been eyeing for months on end. Our blender had broken months ago due to it's old age and overuse, but my mom insisted that with Christmas and all our birthdays coming soon, she could get by without one for now. You see, my mom wasn't the kind to buy things for herself, especially expensive things, and this blender wasn't a cheap one. But I knew she needed it. She used to make herself smoothies in the morning almost everyday. So without much thought, I bought the blender and waited to give it to her.

     Her birthday finally came and I set the blender on the kitchen table waiting for her to see. I went to her room and shouted a very annoying "Happy Birthday!" before grabbing my clothes and heading to the shower. Like most girls, my shower time is my thinking time. I thought of my blog and what I could write this week. Then, I thought of how I was just the greatest daughter in the whole wide world because I had bought my mom the best birthday present she could ask for. "Maybe that's what I'll write about!" I said to myself as I towel-dried my dripping wet hair. 

     I dressed and walked out of the bathroom and into the kitchen, expecting to see my mother admiring her brand new blender and imagining all the smoothies she could make for herself. But instead, I saw my mom pouring a freshly blended smoothie into four glass cups. "Thanks for the present sweetie," she said, as she handed me one of the glasses. I slowly sat down at the kitchen table looking down at the smoothie my mom had just made.

     "Thanks for the smoothie Mom." I replied slowly and thoughtfully.

     That's when I changed my idea for my blog. I couldn't write about how I was so great in buying my mom something she needed. That's not what this is about. My mom was the one who set the stage. Rather than being lazy, craving attention, and spoiling herself on her birthday like most people tend to do, she took the time to serve her family and put us before herself. That's charity to me. That's what life is about. Looking past    your needs, wants, and desires, and putting others before yourself. Today, good conquered evil.