Wife [Widow] of a Wounded Marine

Memorial Day - What it means.

2012-05-29T17:08:00.000-05:00

I didn't say anything on Memorial Day for two reasons:

1.) I had been flying all day.

2.) These holidays suck the life out of me. I just didn't have the energy to write anything.

On that note, I have a few things to say about yesterday.

I have a lot of Military people on my Facebook, which is awesome, but when military holidays come around it can be overwhelming. My newsfeed was flooded in red, white, and blue, names of fallen, and pictures of headstones. Everytime I looked at it it took everything in me not to cry. Still, it makes me happy that people, most people, remember and know what the holiday is actually for.

Now, there is something that disturbed me a little and, really, has since last year. It seems to me that some people don't fully understand what Memorial Day is.

I started realizing last year when my friends and I went out and the place we went to was raising money for Wounded Warrior Project in honor of Memorial Day...

Does anyone else see the problem with this?

Lord knows I love all veterans, especially those who are wounded, but why would they be raising money for WWP on Memorial Day?

Also, I noticed a lot of people thanking veterans for their service yesterday, which should be done every day, really, but Memorial Day isn't really for them. If you are wanting to go out of your way to thank someone, maybe rethink who you should be thanking. (Don't shoot me, just saying...)

For anyone who is unaware, Memorial Day is not for all veterans. That is what Veterans Day is for. Memorial Day is for those who have lost their lives. So when thanking people on Memorial Day, thank a widow, or a mother or father whose child died, or tell a veteran that you are thinking of their fallen friends. Go to Arlington and lay flowers on the graves. Raise money for TAPS or AWP - organizations who help the families of the fallen. Remember the fallen that day, because the day is theirs. Please don't take it away from them.

I must throw this out there, too (I apologize ahead of time for a little rant.) There is nothing "happy" about the day, so to say "Happy Memorial Day!!" on your Facebook page is pretty offensive to the families. Sure it's a little touchy of us, but put yourself in our shoes. We don't expect you to say something spectacular about every man and woman who died, but to treat it as a fun holiday like Christmas or Halloween is just bothersome. While everyone else is saying, "HAPPY MEMORIAL DAY! HAPPY TO BE OFF WORK! HEADED TO THE BEACH!", we are holding back tears, flipping through pictures, and remembering our loved ones who were ripped away from us.This is a day of remembering and mourning for those of us who lost everything. Of course we go out and celebrate their lives, but to put a "Happy" in front of the day is inappropriate.

I say all of this not to be mean or offend anyone. I say it in hopes that people will be a little more sensitive to what the day really means for some. I also say it to make sure people know what Memorial Day stands for because it's important and, frankly, it's been annoying the crap out of me and the other widows. Don't downplay the day or take it away from those it is supposed to honor.

-Jimmy C. Kinsey II -

Born: June 27, 1984

Wounded in Ramadi, Iraq: April 1, 2006

Died: April 20, 2010

He was such a nerd. I miss that so much.

Warrior Dash 2012 - Mountain City, Georgia

2012-05-22T13:59:00.000-05:00

I am currently recovering from one of the best weekends ever. Before I show you our muddy gloriousness, I must recommend that if you've ever considered doing a Warrior Dash, you must. It is so much fun.

We began the weekend at Tallulah State Park which quickly became a bust. I admit, my friends and I can get rowdy. Especially when there is a large group of us. Even more especially when we are anticipating such an event. The last straw for us was when the state troopers informed us that we were no longer allowed to laugh. For us, you might as well have told us to quit breathing. We went to huddle house that morning to brainstorm how to get the heck out of the no laugh zone. After calling around to a few places that were already full of dashers, our waitress (who seriously deserves a hi five from all eight of us) told us about a spot further in the mountains. We went to check it out and, low and behold, there was a beautiful spot next to a babbling river complete with clusters of small, purple butterflies waiting to greet us. Not to mention the sweetest, kindest, friendliest locals willing to help us with anything we needed. They even chopped us some firewood free of charge.

SOLD!

Nichols Campground near Clayton, GA.

We rushed back to the other site and had our things packed in, I promise you, no more than fifteen minutes. The group split up - some to set up at the new site, and some to get supplies at Wal-Mart. When my group got back from Wal-Mart, our new campsite was up and ready to go. At this point I was exhausted. I cracked open a beer and plopped into a camp chair facing the winding river.

Heaven.

See that Bama chair? That would be me!

The girls were very excited about our new site! Kelly,

Me, Amber, and Mindy.

Kelly made a friend, his name is Frederick.

The next day was Warrior Dash. We decided to dress up as a cheesy dodgeball team. The girls made "jerseys" earlier in the week for everyone in our group. We hadn't seen everyone in their uniforms together until that morning. It was AWESOME. Cheesiest of cheese. I have some of the coolest friends, ever.

Everyone in their dodgeball uniforms. From the left: Tango (Me), Cajun, Ambre, Mayfield, Bui, Slim, Coach, and.... Poot.... Hahaha! (She was peer pressured into that one.)

The boys doing a manly pose with the owner of the campsite. She was so sweet.

After taking our before pictures, we all loaded into the back of Nick's truck and took off through the mountains for the dash. Before you actually get to the event you have to meet somewhere and shuttle over because there are so many people. We rode in a big yellow school bus to the site. When they first dropped us off it was hard to tell how this thing was going to be set up because we had to walk a good bit to get there. At first it didn't even seem like a mud run. Then I started spotting people covered head to toe in mud. This induced giddyness and mild flailing. We walked up the mountain a little further and sure enough we began to hear music echoing in the distance. Out of nowhere a valley appears between two mountains that is covered in people dressed like complete and utter fools. Full fledged flailing and giddyness ensued.

We had arrived!

Riding to the dash. I was obviously miserable.

As we walked in we saw people in every type of costume imaginable. Two men were dressed in suits, sunglasses, and briefcases. There was a rather large man wearing a pink bra and women's underwear over his shorts. I believe he was also rocking a uni-brow and a mullet which, in my opinion, made the outfit. There were ninja turtles, eighties rock stars, blue men, orange men, and everything in between. Some of them were already covered in mud, while others, like us, were waiting for their race time. We all registered and waited around for our 1:30 race.

(I wish I had pictures of all the crazies, but at this point I had no camera.)

It was announced that our race was in twenty minutes. We got in a huddle and decided to do really bad and embarrassing stretches in a circle... because that's what dodgeball players are supposed to do, right? When we were finished, we put our hands together, counted to three, and chanted "TIGHT PERIMETER" (not sure why, other than our friend Brandon is a nerd). We got in line, danced to the music, bounced a lot, fire shot into the air, and it was time to run.

We started off slow. In fact, the only people behind us were a couple of girls that already looked exhausted. We figured, however, that we'd let the crazies go ahead of us so we didn't get knocked off of any obstacles.

Safety first is always the best way to go.

Eventually we got to the first obstacle, and this is where it got awesome.

Here's a breakdown of this particular Warrior Dash:

1. Simple jog.

2. Wade through neck deep water.

3. Crawl through mud under barbed wire.

4. Crawl through some crazy net thing.

5. Jog some more.

6. Scale a wall with a rope.

7. Hurdles you have to jump over then slide under.

8. Jog some more.

(Things started getting a little blurry around here so I might jumble some things up.)

9. Climb up a rope wall, then climb down a rope wall.

10. Dive into a lake, crawl onto a floating contraption, go across floating contraption, dive back off and swim to the other side.

11. Run some more.

12. Climb up another wall with pegs, then slide down a pole.

13. Run some more.

14. Climb across a horizontal rope wall.

15. Run some more.

16. Slide down the biggest slip n slide ever.

17. Run some more.

18. Jump over junk cars.

19. Run some more.

20. Leap over fire. (Big fire, if you ask me)

21.Submerge yourself and swim through the nastiest mud ever underneath more barbed wire. (This is where you get completely coated.)

22. Run to the finish line.

Climbing the rope wall. From left: Kelly, Amber, Me, Nick

Jumping from the floating platform into the lake. My face explains how I

felt about that.

Horizontal rope climb.

Jumping over fire.

Runnin' through mud.

Running through more mud.

And this is the result after the race...

We had so much fun, despite our scrapes and bruises, that we are already hoping to go to another one in the Fall. In fact, I want to scope out different races and do them as often as possible. They are an absolute blast, you get a work out, you get to camp out, you make memories - what is there not to love!?

We spent the rest of the weekend eating s'mores, enjoying the scenery, making friends with woodland creatures, and just having fun.

Good times, man. Good times.

Juggling The Past With The Present

2012-05-16T13:18:00.000-05:00

Aren't these things supposed to become easier? That is what people keep telling me, " Oh, honey. It gets easier." Ok, that's nice... I'm still waiting.

Here's the thing. Sure, living with grief is becoming easier in most areas of my life. It's a numbness, I think. Grief is a part of my daily life. It's kind of like having to look in the mirror every morning and see big hips and wrinkles. I hate it, but I get over it and go on with my life. It's there, it will always be there, I've learned to accept that.

Here is the problem...

I'VE accepted my grief. I've accepted I'm weird. That doesn't mean everyone else has - and that is where the problem lies, which brings up a few questions (for me, anyway).

Is it time now for me to start working on being a little more normal? Are these new found flaws given by circumstance things that I need to "work on" or things I should "accept"? Is it healthy to embrace grief and the fact that I miss my husband, and live my life in a way that honors those things, or should I be trying to fix myself so that I can get as close to "how I was" as I possibly can and leave these things behind?

If people don't like who I am now, is it my fault for being selfish in being comfortable in my grief and being attached to my husband forever, or is it theirs for not understanding where I'm coming from and not accepting who I've chosen to be - a widow who lives in honor of her husband?

....I honestly see both sides. The way I live my life now could be viewed selfish to those who are alive. I do get that.

Thing is, as much as I wanted the word "widow" to get away from me in the beginning of this mess, and as much as I wanted to pretend Cleve did not die, I am now FINALLY embracing these things and it is liberating in a way that I'm not sure I can describe. Yea, it hurts to accept, but it is also freeing because now - now that I've accepted who I am and where I came from - I can use that to better myself and help others. The more I'm realizing this, the more happiness I am feeling and the more I want to embrace it and run with it.

Now that I'm "here", it seems that it makes people other than widows (POTW - I am officially making this a widow term) uncomfortable. It makes me more difficult to be around because the things I am openly able to talk about, like switching a screwed up headstone, makes people feel uneasy.

Does this make me selfish?

If so, I'm just becoming more and more selfish with each day. And what if I said I think I'm okay with it? I don't know what else to say, because... I don't want to change. If I die honoring my husband and making sure every person I can possibly find knows his sacrifice, I'll die content. If I die knowing that I gave back to the community I love so dearly - the Military community, specifically those wounded - I will die in what I define as success.

So, where does this leave me? Possibly on a deserted island with a bunch of other Military widows like me, because I'm finding that they may be the only ones who will accept me.

It's true, I would love to blend in with the rest of the world. I would love to re-marry and have children and prance off into the sunset through my white picket fenced yard, but the reality is that that isn't me anymore. I gave those desires to someone else and he is now gone. Now I am someone who wants nothing more than to live for him as long as possible. If that makes other people uncomfortable - even if those other people are everyone else on the freaking planet - then I guess I'll be alone with his memory.

I am aware that times changes a lot. It changes me regularly. And maybe all of this will blow over. Maybe one day I'll decide that putting all of this in the past is what is best. Personally, I hope that I'll just find a way to juggle my past and my present a little more fluidly. The thought of my past being too far away scares me and I have no desire for it.

I am now one of those people - like the Uncle on Napoleon Dynamite who is always reminiscing about his high school football days.

Just call me Uncle friggin' Rico...!

Take it or leave it, man. I don't have the energy to fight who I've become.

So, I dunno. I've been feeling content in many ways and lost in others. I love the people who are alive around me, and I also love someone who is gone. I've found a place that makes me happy, but some people are having a hard time handling my out-in-the-open widow-ness. For now, I'm sticking to what feels right.

I am deeply sorry to anyone that feels they are negatively effected by that.

I just won a milbloggie!

2012-05-12T00:20:00.000-05:00

I need to write a quick post because I'm going to be out of town for the weekend (will say something more "eloquent" when I get back.)

First of all, I just won the 2012 milbloggie for best military spouse blog.

Thank you to everyone who voted. Ya'll. Are. AWEsome.

Thank you to all that were finalists with me. You are all truly fabulous, amazing, spectacular, beautiful, awesome, and every other cheesy word that my wine infused brain cannot think of right now. You were some very stiff competition. My winning is quite baffling to me, but as someone who isn't good at much... I can't turn down an award.

Most of all, I thank my husband. Many of the things in my life never would have come to be if it weren't for him loving me and wanting me to be his wife. He was taken from me, but the love we shared brought so much goodness to my life. I will forever be indebted to him. I accept this award for him. He is the heart of this blog and therefore it is just as much his as it is mine.

.....Meep! <3

There's nothing I can do about it

2012-05-06T01:28:00.000-05:00

I'm having a moment.

How did I get here again? And why am I still trying to do... anything? Remind me what the point is?

I miss him. And I'm thoroughly exhausted by it. I've felt this way for too freaking long and I don't want to anymore.

Most things in life can be tweaked. They can be changed, rearranged, redone. Death... being a widow... there is nothing you can do about it. I will always be this. I will always feel like this. That fact gets me so frustrated with life.

Seriously, God, please take this back. I don't want it.

SICK of it. So tired, dude.

Squeezing in a Blog Post While I Can

2012-05-02T21:25:00.000-05:00

Quick update in between homework.

First of all, I've lost nearly twenty pounds. Had to throw that out there first because I'm a girl and these things are important to girls.

Also very important is the fact that tomorrow is officially the last day of my first semester of college. Thank you. Thank you. Yes, I have a ways to go but, dang it, it took me a long time to just get here so I'm pretty stoked.

This Summer already has many activities planned including (hopefully) an AWP trip and a trip to Walter Reed. The AWP trip I'm hoping to go on is to Seattle to kayak with killer whales. As soon as I saw this opportunity I nearly peed my pants. Then I called Kelly so she could pee hers, too. Three of my favorite widows and I are going to be waiting by our computers the day we are supposed to sign up in hopes that we will be able to get on it. Getting on these trips involves virtual widow cat fights (not really, it's just how I imagine it when there are too many who want to go on one trip). Going is never guaranteed. Keeping my fingers tightly crossed.

As far as Walter Reed, Kelly and I are going to show some love to my favorite people in the whole wide world and their families. We're hoping to grow a little project from there, but for now we're just going to bring some care packages and maybe some yummy food. High fives and cheesy jokes are a given.

Let's see.

I'm hoping to work on my book a bit more this Summer since I'll most likely be bored a lot. I'm still going back and forth as to whether or not I want ALL of my dirty laundry flailing for the world to see, but I still want to finish it even if it's just for me, myself, and I.

I started writing for MilitaryFamily.com a few months ago. I forgot to mention that. I haven't had too much time to contribute recently but plan to contribute more to that this Summer as well. Ya'll check it out if you'd like. It's a newer site, but it's quickly filling up with useful info for...wait for it... Military Families.

This update is becoming longer and longer.

Nicholas is still adorable and his silly jokes still make me laugh.

My parents still live in the tundra.

I still miss Cleve (more every day).

I still have the cutest dog in the world.

Oh, I have a "tan" (color other than clear) for the first time in six years.

I'm starting to feel bad for wasting precious internet space on this post.

Time to get back to homework.

Two Year Festivities and a Little Bit of Illegalness

2012-04-21T04:06:00.000-05:00

My first picture next to him... like this. Kelly convinced me it would be okay... and now I love it.

Giving Cleve a shot of Crown. He did love his Crown.

I had to take one too. Though, I'm really not a fan.

My widows moving the headstone that was WRONG to replace it with the right one. Seriously... only a widow would do this for you. I love them. With everything in me.

Moving the icky one to the car. It will be placed next to a tree that is planted for him. Though it was wrong, it was still made for him and was on his grave for a year. It can't go to waste.

Hahaha. Muddy dress. Illegal activities. I'm sorry... but for such a craptastic day, this made it kind of awesome.

See? It's just so much better now that it's right. Finally. Two years later. The FLIPPIN headstone is right.

It's Been Two Years - And it still hurts

2012-04-20T10:30:00.000-05:00

Yesterday I woke up at 5 A.M. as I usually do. I put my slippers on, dragged myself to the bathroom, closed the door behind me, and looked in the mirror. I felt a little more tired than usual - a little heavier. My motivation to go to school was lacking. The bed was calling my name. I looked in the mirror and analyzed my aging, tired face. Every small wrinkle and flaw seemed to be more obvious than usual. I don't typically notice, but I have changed so much, especially since he's been gone. I don't like it. It is a visual reminder that I'm still here, without him - that time and life continue despite his absence. The very fact that I was getting ready for College, the one thing I wanted so badly but just couldn't seem to reach, baffled me. Then I thought about the people I've met and the many other things I've done that Cleve will never know about or be a part of. I thought to myself, "How the hell did I do this? How did I get here?" I had realized the night before that yesterday, exactly two years ago at just before 4:30 in the afternoon, was the last time I heard Cleve's voice. I had gone the entire month anticipating this week so that, maybe, I would be okay, but realizing that immediately tore down the walls I built around my heart and left me bare and vulnerable - and it hurt. My daily routine suddenly seemed pointless in the grand scheme of things. The tiny, psycho voice in my head was screaming, "BAIL! BAIL! QUIT! BE DONE! Go. Back. To Bed." It was loud and I wanted to listen. I did not want to go to school. Alas, it's the last few weeks and it's crucial that I go to keep my grades where they are. I've worked so hard. Cleve wanted this for me - that is reason enough. So I sucked it up and went. I wore my biggest, darkest sunglasses just in case. It was a good call because they were needed. The smallest reminders had me a mess.

80's Mustang - Cry.

Billie Holiday - Cry.

No reason - Cry.

The color green - Cry.

The town he's buried in - Cry.

Getting an A and not being able to tell him - Cry.

Repeating our last words over and over and over in my head - Cry. Cry. Cry.

Yes, the sunglasses came in very handy.

After my last class, I bolted. I tried everything I could to shake the pain off of my body. Happy music. Windows down. Think of cupcakes. Make chimp noises. Nothing worked. I needed a widow. I texted Kelly asking her to meet me for a glass of wine. Because she's amazing, she met me within the hour. Her presence instantly helped. And then I drank my wine too fast. And then I was drunk. Kelly had to drive me home and I slept until about eleven that night. I kinda felt like an idiot. At the same time I was relieved that that time, 4:30 in the afternoon, was gone. I wouldn't have to deal with it for another year.

Then I realized it was about to be exactly two years since Cleve died. It just doesn't end.

Today I'm alright as of now, but I have yet to leave my bed. I keep getting this "Oh my god Cleve is actually dead" feeling. Like I hadn't actually realized it until that point. Then it fades, then it comes back, then it fades again. I've been getting random bouts of guilt. I've had a few irrational thoughts that, perhaps none of this is real - it's just a really bad - and long - dream.

Kelly and I are going to be hanging out today. We have a few little things planned for him. One of which may be illegal, but I kind of don't care. Heck, I'll even tell you what it is. His new (CORRECT) headstone was finally placed, but you know what they did? They kept the old one where it was, at the top of the grave, and placed the new, correct one at the bottom. Why they did this, I'm not sure, but I plan to fix this little problem today. I dare someone to stop me. I plan to take the old headstone, plant a tree somewhere that means a lot to both of us, and place it with the tree. Illegal? I'm not sure, but seriously... I don't care.

Two years. Two friggin' years. Where does the time go? Didn't this just happen? It's truly unbelievable. I miss him so much. I wish there were better words in the dictionary. I wish there was a way to express how I feel right now. I feel like I could explode right now. All of the love and memories and sadness and happiness and everything in between have filled me up to capacity. I seriously think I might explode.

To all who read this, REMEMBER HIM. He may not of died the day he was injured. His death may be different than that of your typical war hero. His name may not be on memorials or bridges. But do not doubt that his death was a casualty of this war. He fought long and hard. He went through horrid things that most will never have to experience. His death was avoidable and heinous. He is a war hero.

He will ALWAYS be loved, and never, ever forgotten. Not if I have anything to do with it.

I have not and will not stop loving you. Every day I live, I live it for you.

Top Military Spouse Blog for 2012?

2012-04-17T20:49:00.002-05:00

Hey guys! I discovered the other day that I was nominated and chosen as a finalist for the top Military Spouse Blog of 2012 on Milblogging.com.

I'm quite honored.

The winner will be whoever gets the most votes from here. So, if you have a second (it literally takes about that long) and could go to the "Military Spouse Blogs" section and click "Wife (Widow) of a Wounded Marine" (obviously), it would mean a lot.

Voting ends on the 20th (Cleve's angelversary. I will probably be hiding in a cave somewhere with another widow. Don't worry, though, I'll be back.)

Go here to vote: Top Military Spouse Blog of 2012

Don't forget to browse the other selections and vote for your favorites there, too. There are lots and lots of good ones.

Sophie says, "Thank you." And so do I. <3

Where to begin

2012-04-11T21:43:00.000-05:00

Life has been extremely busy. I've come to my blog a few times in the past week or so fully intending to write a post only to feel overwhelmed and close my laptop. Let's try this again...

Where to begin.

April 1st has come and gone again. Cleve's alive day - not even sure I should call it that anymore - was a little more difficult to swallow than I expected. I went from perfectly fine to blubbering mess - right in front of Nick. That is not allowed in my world, but I did it anyway, and it sucked. Alas, I survived. Six years down.

This month in general has been pretty good considering, though there is a fog in my head that won't go away. It's effecting most of the things in my life to a degree (ex. It's really hard for me to focus on this post right now), but I'm refusing to let it hinder me.

School is still going good. I got a B on a couple of tests and felt defeated, then realized how stupid I am for feeling that way over a B! I'm fine now. I make myself laugh because when I was younger I could care less about grades. Now I want to make the Dean's list. I... want to make the Dean's list. That's just funny to me. Yet, I'm obsessing over it. It has really been a task to keep myself focused on why I'm really here - this is not a competition; I am here to learn and to get a degree. I still want to be the best, though... must. prove. self.

What else?

Oh, my friend Andrew (Walking to Listen) called me the other day and told me that on his travels he more or less ran into President Bush Sr. I was groggy from just waking up from a nap, but I believe he had dinner with him and his wife Barbara. Amid their conversations, Barbara proceeded to tell Andrew that she had read the blog I wrote about us meeting and loved it. Then Andrew and the Bush's just sat around talking about our story... Isn't that kinda crazy? Barbara Bush read my blog...and talked about Cleve. I never really think about who all could be reading this, but when I hear something like that it becomes a reality that, yes, my words are out there. For anyone to see. That's a little scary...and cool at the same time. And let me not forget to throw out there how randomly awesome Andrew is. First of all, who the heck decides to walk across America? That guy. Who the heck walks across America and runs into past Presidents? That guy. I mean, really. He's spectacularly spectacular and I love hearing about all of his adventures.

I know I'm forgetting things because I seriously felt like I was going to explode with things I had to write about, but now I'm drawing a blank. Ah, well. It's almost bed time anyway.

I hope this blog finds everyone well. I will be back next time I can part the fog long enough to write something legible.

Do me a favor? Remember Cleve this next week. His two year angelversary is on the 20th. Two years too damn long. <3

Winner of the Hero Puzzle Giveaway

2012-04-07T08:27:00.002-05:00

Drumroll please....

....trooppetrie!

Please shoot me an e-mail (use the button on the side of the blog) so we can get this puzzle to you as soon as possible.

Congratulations!

For everyone else, don't forget to check out Hero Puzzle's website. They are perfect for widows of those fallen or for the families of those deployed.

Hero Puzzles

My Heavy Heart

2012-03-22T22:25:00.000-05:00

I'm not sure what it is exactly, but my shoulders (and my heart) are feeling the weight of the world right now. I'm sure it's a mixture of things - the time of year (I HATE April and can feel it breathing down my neck), the clouds in the sky, and maybe even it being my girly time - but it doesn't change it from feeling really, really crappy.

A lot of service members have died this week. Really, it's not anything new (disgustingly) but it seems that all of these stories are swirling around more than usual. I'm all for awareness, but sometimes my little heart can't handle all of it.

On the way home from school, safely hidden in my car, I cried to my iPod. I thought of the service members whose lives were cut too short, I thought of their mourning families, I thought of Cleve, I thought of me. For a moment I felt as though Cleve had just died. The emotions came flooding back and those questions I asked myself every second of every day right after he died were drowning my thoughts; Why him? Why me? Why war? Why god...why?

For a moment, I didn't see the point in life. I wondered, "...wouldn't it be easier to just... be with Cleve?" Of course, these thoughts were fleeting. I cherish the life I have. I know its worth. I know how precious my life is and I want to be here as long as I am supposed to be here. Still, would it not be easier to give up? To be done? To stop hurting? To see Cleve's face again? This living thing is hard. Sitting here, I cannot think of one aspect of it that is not hard work. Even on the sunniest of days or the quietest of moments, do we not have stress or hurt from something in our past? Are we not worrying about the future? About our weight? About who likes us and who doesn't? It's just so...hard. I sat there contemplating these things while listening to REM's "Everybody Hurts". Tears fell and my heart became even heavier as I passed the town Cleve is buried in.

The thing is - if I break everything down to the basics - life shouldn't be this difficult. It should be easy breezy. I get frustrated with myself when I feel I am getting caught in emotions that I've determined I've "figured out" already. We human beings are funny things. We love to blow things out of proportion and make a big production over small stuff. Each of us thinks our own life is the most important thing on the planet and surely what we are experiencing is worse than anyone else. It's irrational, yes, but sometimes there is just no controlling what our bodies will do. And sometimes my body - my brain - wants to be upset at everything and wants to pout. And as much as I try to fight it, and as much as I'd love to give myself a good slap to the face, I just have to let go and let it run it's little [frustrating] cycle.

I suppose "hurt" and "sadness" are aspects of being a human that I should just embrace. Fighting these things has never ended well for me, anyway.

So, I will shamefully pout in my bed and miss Cleve, I will eat boat loads of candy-canes because, for whatever reason, they are making me happy right now, and I will cuddle with my sweet boyfriend ("Cleve" and "boyfriend" in one sentence? That was weird. Oh my god. It happened again. Being a widow is like being schizophrenic, I swear.)

Fingers crossed for sunshine and LOTS of happy news tomorrow.

To those mourning, I'm sorry for your loss and for your pain. I'm so, so sorry.

Weekend Louisiana Trip in Pictures

2012-03-19T11:30:00.001-05:00

...because I just don't have time to write a blog right now.

Amazing food.

Hula Hooping and a brass band.

Lots and lots of monkey business.

I owe you an explanation. Ha.

Eating In Public Alone

2012-03-13T13:25:00.003-05:00

This is going to sound extremely unimportant to some people, but I'd just like to say that I've made a little breakthrough.

...don't laugh.

I, Karie Fugett, am okay with eating at restaurants....alone.

Yep. That used to be the scariest thing ever to me and now - I actually enjoy it. I actually look forward to my public time alone. In fact, that is where I'm headed now.

If you're like I was and terrified of eating alone for whatever reason, I challenge you to suck it up and do it anyway. You won't die, I promise. In fact, for me, it only took me one time to get over myself and just do it to realize it is actually quite pleasant.

So go, my friends. Treat yourself to a nice meal. Enjoy the company of yourself for once.

And...don't forget to splurge on dessert because no one is looking and no one can stop you.

A Hero's Eulogy

2012-03-08T16:30:00.000-06:00

For those of you who don't know (I've talked about it on my blog's fb page), I am taking public speaking this semester and my first speech is ceremonial. I opted to do a eulogy for Cleve since I was not strong enough to do it at his funeral. A few of you have asked me to post the speech. Since it is tomorrow, I figured I would go ahead and post it so that you guys can be there with me in spirit. It's at 9 AM central time. If you're up and want to read it with me at that time I'm sure your thoughts and energy will help me to get through it without my heart exploding.

Excuse the form it's in. It was required for class.

The Passing of a Hero

General Purpose: A eulogy for my husband.

Specific Purpose: To commemorate and remember the life of my husband, Corporal Jimmy Cleveland Kinsey II.

Thesis: Jimmy “Cleve” Kinsey was an amazing man, true American hero, and the love of my life. Today I will remember his life, celebrate his achievements, and recall the ways he touched so many in such a short amount of time.

I. Introduction

A. Attention Getter: In July of 2007, I sat in a hospital waiting room as my 23 year old husband’s leg was being amputated. It had been a year since he was hit by a roadside bomb in Iraq and he spent that entire year fighting to keep his leg despite the fact that Drs warned him it was next to impossible. He didn’t care. He fought, and he fought hard. I waited anxiously, staring at the window looking onto the hallway, waiting to see him pushed by in his hospital bed. Finally, there he was; hazy eyed and looking around – most likely looking for me. I quickly got up and did the best “I’m so not freaking out, but I really am freaking out run/walk” I could muster. His bed turned the corner. I turned after him. As I got around it, I noticed his leg – now a nub. I lost it. I was terrified this was going to break his spirit. He had been so strong up until this point, and he needed that strength more than anything now. I finally got myself together, took a deep breath, and went back to his room. There he laid, my sweet, beautiful best friend. I sat down in the chair next to him and gently placed my hand on his. He opened his eyes and looked at me, then looked down at the bottom of the bed. He slowly took out his new leg and we looked at it together. I looked him in the eyes, and asked him if he was ok. My tears began to well again as he smiled at me and said in a slow, drug enhanced and infuriatingly smug tone, “This is nothin’…you’re such a baby...”, then wiggled his new nub in the air a little as if mocking me with it. Relief washed over me, and we both died laughing. That was just the kind of guy Cleve was. He was a man who had been through a lot but no matter what, nothing could take away his silly and typically inappropriate sense of humor. He was brave and strong willed. He fought for what he wanted, yet humbly accepted that in life, we don’t always get what we want. He never wanted people crying over what had happened to him. That day and the days that followed were not easy, but his ability to smile and laugh his way through it all is what made him so special.

II. Jimmy “Cleve” Kinsey was an amazing man, true American hero and the love of my life. Today let’s remember his life, celebrate his achievements, and recall the ways he touched so many in such a short amount of time with his humor and unconditional love.

A. An amazing man.

1. He was everyone’s best friend. People couldn’t help but love his big personality and sense of humor.

2. He loved, and loved hard. Everyone knows that once Cleve loved you, he would do anything for you. His family, friends, and I were the most important things in his life. Though the capacity to love doesn’t seem like that big of a deal, hislove was. It was vast, and warm, and full, and it is so, so missed.

3. When we were in Richmond, VA for his TBI treatment Cleve met a man who had not spoken a single word since he was wounded at war a year prior. Not. One. Word. Cleve sat with him at lunch every day and talked to him about his day. He talked and talked and talked without one response. Eventually I asked him why he kept messing with the poor man. I asked him to consider the fact that he could be annoying him. He told me that he knew the man would talk eventually and he just wanted to make sure the guy knew he could talk to him when that day came. One day Cleve walked in to the lunch area and sat next to his friend and asked him how he was doing. Before Cleve could continue blabbing away as usual, the man looked up at him and responded. One word at a time, the man began telling Cleve about his day. It was one of the most amazing things I had ever seen. He not only loved his family, but he truly cared about everyone, with a particularly soft heart for his fellow wounded warriors. He always did what he could to help, even if it was simply talking or listening. Cleve’s persistence and his faith in his new friend helped that man to speak again. I like to think that wherever he is today, he remembers the stories Cleve told him during all of those lunches. I like to think that Cleve’s memory is carried on through them.

Transition:Now, Cleve was more than just your typical awesome guy…

B. Corporal Jimmy Cleveland Kinsey II, a true American hero.

1. He volunteered to be in the Marine Corps at the age of 19.

2. He did two tours to Iraq; one to Fallujah and the other to Ramadi. During each tour he watched friends get wounded and sometimes die. It wasn’t easy on him.

3. He was wounded on his second tour to Iraq losing his leg and getting severe PTSD and TBI. He received a purple heart among nine other medals for his wounds and achievements.

Transition:Last but not least…

C. He was the love of my life.

1. We met when we were thirteen years old. Our first kiss was in eighth grade on the Foley middle school football field as he was walking me home. I will cherish that memory for the rest of my life.

2. We reunited when we were 20 and eloped three months later without telling anyone. We were in love and we wanted to be together forever.

3. I will always remember the love we shared, and I feel lucky that I will be in love for the rest of my life - alone or not. My love for that goofy, loving man will never, ever fade. His smile, his eyes, his presence is forever tattooed to my heart.

III. Conclusion:

A. Cleve’s time on this Earth was short but it was impactful. From loving deeply, to encouraging a fellow war hero to speak again, to simply being a symbol of strength, he left his mark – and it was big. I am proud to have known him. I am even more proud to have been loved by him.

B. Cleve was taken from us all too soon. We miss him and it’s so easy to get pulled into the darkness and sadness that we can’t help but feel in this horrific time. But… let’s try to remember how he was during tough times; how hewas when his leg was amputated. He didn’t cry. Instead he chose to laugh and he took the situation on as just another challenge to be conquered. He didn’t want me crying for him then, and I promise you, he wouldn’t want us crying for him now. Instead, let’s be like him and laugh and smile at the beautiful memories we made with him. Let’s remember his big smile and his t-shirts with crazy sayings and his multi-colored all-star shoes -none of which matched…ever. Let’s remember how handsome he was in his dress blues, and his not so handsome (but oh so adorable) “Popeye” face. The good times, happiness, laughter, hugs, friendship, love, and the cutest dimple ever – that’s what he was and that’s what we should all emulate today and always– for him.

B. I love you so much, Cleve. We all do. We will always love you. Thank you for the joy you brought to our lives.

Scuba Diving

2012-03-05T21:28:00.000-06:00

I spent the weekend with one of my main widdas, Kelly, learning to scuba dive and it was awesome! Our open water dives are scheduled for the week after next. I can't wait! There is something about effortlessly floating through water (without feeling like you are going to suffocate) that is indescribably amazing. This is something I remember my dad doing when I was a child and have always wanted to do. The fact that I finally did it makes me so happy!

I don't have pictures from class, but I plan to get some when we do our open water dives in a few weeks. I shall report back.

Here's to tons of vitamin D and a whole new part of the world for me to explore!

Meet Nicholas

2012-02-28T23:32:00.000-06:00

Let's talk about Nick, shall we?

I've been fairly vague about him since we met and it's about time I talk about him a little more.

Fun Nicholas Facts:

1.) He's Cajun. He's from Louisiana, he has a Cajun accent, and his entire family is of French descent.

2.) His family is huge.

3.) They accept me as part of the family and it's awesome. We see them multiple times a month. His dad is also a fantastic cook!

4.) Nick used to be in the Navy. He still works at a Navy hospital.

5.) He's slightly OCD which keeps me on my toes. Sometimes he makes me crazy because he's over the top organized and clean, but usually I just appreciate that he rubs it off on me a little. I tend to be a bit messy and all over the place. I'm getting better thanks to him.

6.) He eats a lot of sausage (probably because he's cajun), but never gets fat. It's truly unfair.

7.) He has really long eye lashes and beautiful honey colored eyes.

8.) He can't stand staying at home for too long. He always has to get out and "do stuff".

9.) He has great taste in music.

10.) He's extremely funny in the nerdiest of ways. He allows me to be the same.

11.) He loves me so much.

12.) I love him so much.

13.) We are not planning on getting married... ever. Though we've discussed having a "non-wedding".... or something. And eventually, I want a ring. But we haven't gotten to all of that yet. School first.

14.) As of now... we don't want kids.

15.) Obviously we talk about the future a lot. I definitely can see myself with him for forever.

I should also add that he never yells at me, is extremely calm and even tempered, and one of the most patient people I've ever met.

He's also a total hottie.

All in all, he's awesome. And he makes me very happy. And I feel extremely lucky to have him in my life. I was given a second chance at love thanks to him. I couldn't have asked for a greater gift.

Giveaway for Military and Family: Hero Puzzles

2012-02-27T12:14:00.001-06:00

A couple of days ago I caught wind of a new Veteran owned business called "Hero Puzzles". I've been given the opportunity to give one of these fine toys to one of you guys, which makes me quite happy! If you ask me, this is a fabulous gift for a child of someone who is deployed or fallen.

Before I blab about it, I want to share with you how it "came to be" straight from the creators mouth,

"The concept actually came from my three year old
son about a year ago. Just like the other men and women serving our
country, separation is a huge part of our life. My son is quite a busy
little man and he really enjoys puzzles. I was looking at one of the many
random wooden puzzles we own and thought to myself, I could make this.
Fast forward a year, my son has multiple puzzles of me and our family, and
it has proved to be a coping tool for him. My wife tells me that while I
am away it is constantly what he wants to play with! It is also an
opportunity for him to talk about me, miss me, and have conversations
about me while working on his hand eye coordination and cognitive skills.
It has really been a win win for him as well as myself!" -Cody Sterling

To read more about the start of this business, check out the about page, here.

Cody, the owner, is currently active duty which, if you ask me, is reason enough to check these puzzles out. Not only that but these are long lasting, quality puzzles crafted from birch plywood and 10% of all proceeds go directly to the Wounded Warrior Project. So, even if you don't win the giveaway I encourage you to check Hero Puzzles out and consider buying one for your little one. There are many styles to choose from that you can check out right here.

On to the giveaway!

Rules:

1.) Leave a comment stating your interest in winning this. I would love to hear what type of picture you plan to use and who it's for. I'm nosy.

2.) You must be following my blog or my blog's Facebook page.

3.) You must either be in the Military or be the family member of someone in the military. I want to make sure this puzzle is used for the purposes stated above.

4.) I will post a "You've won!" post in a week. Please claim your prize within three days of that post.

Good luck!

'Tis better to have loved

2012-02-22T12:16:00.000-06:00

A lot has changed for me. It's all changed so quickly that it took me literally stopping and really looking back to realize just how different everything really is; how different I am. It's kind of insane. I've had to make so many huge decisions in the past couple of years. Decisions that would change everything. Now here I am looking back and wondering... how the hell did I get here? Not long ago my life seemed pointless - doomed. I was a new widow; a sad, lonely, depressed, widow who lost her only real love. Nothing was going right and my hope for anything in life or in myself was running out if there was any left at all.

Before that, I was the wife of a wounded Marine; a Marine who loved me very much but was severely effected by the war both mentally and physically. The war had left him torn and lost and in turn left me the same. Life was a roller coaster. Every day was met with new challenges. Some days the challenges were so large that my early 20-something brain just couldn't wrap around it all. We were very sad and, looking back, I would even say blinded by everything that was happening around us and to us. What I mean by that is that we were so focused on all the shit that we were oblivious to anything good in life. It's sad to think that we lived that way for so long. It's really sad.

Now, I sit here looking around me unable to find anything "bad". The only darkness in my life stems from my past, which is slowly fading - slowly turning into acceptance. I've come to a point in my life where I feel I'm finally on track. I'm where I need to be and doing what I need to do. I'm surrounded by good people and good things. God, the universe, or whatever is out there has finally decided to give me a break it seems, and that is okay with me. I'm beginning to feel like I can breath again - really breath.

All in two years I have made numerous new friends, gone to a business school, decided to open a business, decided not to open a business yet and instead follow my dream of going to college first, went to college (A's!), fallen in love again (his parents love me...a pleasant change), moved back to my hometown (something I never thought I would do), became a mostly vegetarian (I eat meat if Nick's dad cooks it), and started writing a book. In between all of that I traveled all over the US sometimes for fun, sometimes to learn, and other times to teach about this life. All in all it seems the decisions I've been making are the right ones. I feel deeply content with the things I've done with what I had left after losing everything. I'm proud of myself for that. And I'm excited to see what happens in the next two years, and the two years after that.

Life is crazy. It's full of surprises. Sometimes it's mean and sometimes it's nice. I'll always miss Cleve. There will always be some pain in me because of my past, but I'm getting to the point that I'm ready to let a lot of that go. I'm beginning to realize that all of us hurt - all of us. I am no different than you, or her, or him, or whoever. All we can do is move forward. All we can do is make something out of what we have left and make sure our future is better than our past. That's all we can do. That's what I want to do. I don't want to dwell anymore. I cannot live the rest of my life dwelling on something that just is - or isn't anymore.

He was hurt. We hurt together. We loved each other. He died. I'm here without him now. I love him even though he isn't here to love me back. And that's okay. Because death is a part of life and one day I'm going to die and someone is going to cry for me. And now, two years after he died, I have love coming at me from all different directions from friends and family and my boyfriend. I need to continue to focus on them - living, breathing people who deserve my attention, too. I will never forget him. I couldn't. But I've got to quit living like he is going to come back, because he isn't. And it will be okay.

Life has been good to me recently. It's been so good to me. At this point I am just along for the ride.

'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. - Tennyson

Spread Some Love People!

2012-02-14T16:08:00.001-06:00

Happy Valentine's Day everyone!

Remember that even if you are alone or just hate the holiday for your own reasons (I know many of you do), instead of spending the day resentful,Valentine's Day just happens to be the perfect excuse to go out and do something nice for someone, even if that someone is a stranger. Just think of how much better you'll feel after making someone smile!

So, go out there and spread love to your fellow man (and woman)!

Love you guys. <3

2012-02-13T21:28:00.000-06:00

I have to be up at four in the morning (every Tuesday and Thursday...yuck), so this will be quick.

First of all, I am currently rocking all A's which makes me happy. College isn't as hard as I expected. Aka: I'm a lot smarter than I gave myself credit for....YAY! I'm not a moron!

Also.... Je parle un peu de Francais. <-----This makes me :)

I love learning. Sometimes it makes me feel like my brain is melting and seeping out of my ears, but in the end getting a big fat A is like nothing else in the world!

I feel like there's a lot to say, but I'm really tired and can't think straight so I'm going to bed now.

I hope this is finding everyone well.

Walking to Listen - How a complete stranger on the side of a country road touched my life

2012-02-01T10:03:00.002-06:00

Yesterday was a difficult day, or at least it started that way. As I was doing my morning ritual of driving an hour and a half to school, the song I'll Be Seeing You by Billie Holiday started playing. Though the song is on my iPod, and I've heard it many times, this time the words hit me like a ton of bricks. As the sun rose on the horizon, grief's thick, heavy blanket rose with it and for the rest of the day I was drowning in thoughts of Cleve; first as I drove, then in between classes as I walked to my next destination. It was sunny and chilly - perfect chilly - the kind where a simple cardigan, a light scarf, and a pair of boots is just enough to keep warm. Headed to my next class, I stared at my shoes as they took turns hitting the pavement of the sidewalk. I lost myself to thought in their rhythm. Suddenly I was beginning to feel uncomfortable again. Fear and sadness filled my heart. Memories flashed before my eyes.

"He should be here. He was supposed to be here for this. What is this? This isn't right. What am I doing?"

It just didn't feel right, none of it; my walking, the people around me, the cheery sun beaming down on us as we scurried around like Ants on an ant hill. My very breath felt uncomfortable knowing he - my beautiful husband and best friend - was no longer here scurrying around with us. For the rest of the school day, I struggled to keep the tears hidden behind my eyes where no one could see them. I was relieved when my classes were over. I went to the gym out of principal and against my inner self strongly objecting. I did a shorter workout than usual and headed home. My bed was screaming my name.

For my long trek back, I rolled down every window in my car and found the loudest, dirtiest, mindless rap I could find and blared it. It was beginning to get warmer out. The warmth was making me feel more content and the vitamin D from the sun was beginning to finally kick in. The day was looking up. I pulled off of the freeway onto my exit. One small town after another flashed by - business as usual - when I noticed a young man on the side of the road with a hiking backpack, a walking stick, and a sign on his pack that said, "Walking to Listen". I know these towns like the back of my hands, and that man was not from here. Not to mention, curiosity always kills the Karie and I needed to know what that sign meant. I pulled over in the first parking lot I could find, pulled out my phone, and googled Walking to Listen. A blog popped up. This is what it read:

"On October 14, 2011, I walked out the backdoor of my home in Chadds Ford, PA and began a cross-country search for the most basic human interface of them all: stories. Every one of us has an extraordinary story worth hearing, and I’m walking the country to listen. There’s no such thing as the Average Joe, no such thing as a boring, uninteresting, unexceptional life (for more on this, see this poem by Yevgeny Yevtushenko). This walk is to honor that. Life is fast, and I’ve found it’s easy to confuse the miraculous for the mundane, so I’m slowing down, way down, in order to give my full presence to the extraordinary that infuses each moment and resides in every one of us. We’re a country of great diversities and divisions; sharing stories, I think, is one way to find resonance."

It goes on to say that he would be going through Alabama, then over toward Texas. I knew this was the same guy. I instantly felt compelled to talk to him, but always being the first one to tell you that rapists and murderers live among us, I sped home to Google it on my laptop and investigate this whole thing further. Call me simple, but what I found blew me away; the pictures he had taken, the stories he had written, the comments from people he had met on his adventure - one of which saying something along the lines of "Angels walk among us".

"Angels", I thought, "I could use an angel. Or a friend. Something."

The more I saw, the more I was convinced that I needed to meet this guy. I needed to pick his brain. I needed to hear why he was doing this and what he had gotten from it. I needed to be in the presence of someone who would actually have the balls to do something like this. I can't explain it, but I needed to do it. While essentially stalking him through his blog, I clicked on his contact tab and, luckily, he listed his number. I sat in my bed, phone in hand, and hesitated to text him for a second, again considering the rapist thing because it's what I do, and then considering him not wanting to meet me. The thought made me sad, but I did it anyway.

No reply.

I called Melissa whose voice sounded like death. She was extremely tired. I somehow coaxed her into coming with me to find this stranger again. I told her to look up his blog. She did and agreed that he indeed seemed like a "cool dude". I picked her up, fed her redbull, and we backtracked to find him. Sure enough, he was right where I thought he'd be, looking quite exhausted and conveniently right in front of a little gravel road. I put on my blinker to let him know I was going to pull in. He stopped, I parked, and I rolled my window down.

"Hi. Do you have plans for dinner?"

He smiled, "No actually, I don't. Are you Karie, by any chance?"

"Yes."

"Oh hi, it's nice to meet you , I was just going to text you back as soon as I stopped."

"Oh, cool! Well, if you're not doing anything for dinner, I'd love to treat you."

"Wow, awesome! I'm going to walk just a little further, probably about an hour, and I'll give you a call when I know where I'm staying."

"Perfect. See you in a bit."

I took off, giggling with Melissa.

"I can't believe I just did that."

"I know! But he seems so nice!"

"I know! I'm excited to pick his brain, dude."

We didn't drive long before Andrew (that's his name) called and told us he had found an RV resort sooner than he had expected. He was drawn in by a sign that said Bluegrass Tuesdays and the owner was willing to let him pitch a tent in one of their sheds.

"It's Ray's RV Park. Just follow the signs that say bluegrass music, and I'm behind the sheds on your left."

Melissa and I found it, pulled in, followed the signs and, sure enough, there he was pitching his tent inside a storage shed full of lawn supplies. After he was done, he showered and we took him to a little seafood restaurant that we hadn't even tried and had shrimp, swamp soup (not sure how to explain it), hush puppies, cole slaw, and okra. We all began to talk. He asked us questions. We asked him questions. It was so interesting to me.

Me - "Are you sore all the time?"

Andrew - "Not anymore. My feet hurt at the end of each day."

Me - "Are your friends and family supportive?"

Andrew - "Yes, actually. I don't think I could do it without their support."

Me - "How often do you get to eat?"

Andrew - "As often as anyone else..."

Me - "That's so cool, dude."

I started with the small stuff to get to know him before really prying him open and attempting to steal any wisdom he may have gained from his experience. Eventually, however, the conversation turned to me and it came time for me to explain my past and my widowdom. He listened. He's a good listener - patient - more so than most people. He then told us about some of the other people he had met on his journey; mother's of boys who were deployed and veterans themselves. He said that as he traveled, he had some people record their stories if they were willing. He told me that I was the first wife that had been effected by the war, and asked me if I would like to record mine. Always taking a chance to talk about Cleve, I obliged. We finished our country cooked dinner and headed back to the shed in the RV park. We all sat at a wooden picnic table under an ever appropriate dim, blinking light, he went into the shed to dig out his video recorder, and he began to ask me one question after another. In his questions alone you could feel his true interest in wanting to know about me, a complete stranger. He was genuinely interested in my life with my husband and the feelings and emotions that came with it. One question and answer after another, he listened. Finally when we were done, Melissa and I, both teary eyed looked at each other as if we could read each others minds, "Who is this guy?"

He went back into the shed to put up his recorder then asked, "Do you guys mind if I play a song for you?"

"Not at all..."

He came out with a mandolin in his hand, sat down, and began singing the song Hallelujah.

This guy is a freaking mandolin player and singer, too. A good one. I smiled and stared at his fingers as he played effortlessly (I always watch peoples hands as they play instruments). My brain was trying to wrap itself around the whole night. There were moments I felt like I was in some crazy dream. I typically don't go and meet random strangers on the side of the road. Now, here we are at this picnic table in an RV park Melissa and I had never even noticed before, hanging out with this person we just found walking on the side of the road, and it's as if he's our long time great friend.

He finished the song and we all sat around talking about our lives as he strung bits and pieces of songs in the background. More and more questions were filling my head. There were so many things I wanted to ask him!

Me - "Has this journey changed your perception of humanity at all?"

Andrew - "Oh, for sure."

Me - "Positive or negative?"

Andrew - "Very, very positive. I've been so surprised at how kind people are and how willing people are to take in a stranger. Like now... you bought me dinner and you didn't even know me."

This thought made me so happy. I kept grilling him and every sweet, sentimental, kind, genuine, thoughtful answer was like medicine for my aching soul - especially on that day. I needed a piece of goodness from the Universe that day. I needed a little reminder that not all is bad in the world, and that there is not only good, but true beauty; not only in nature, but inside the people, the strangers, around me. The light and beauty that beamed from this strangers soul was something that is rare and I just needed to be near it and see it for myself. I'm glad I took the risk.

There isn't much I can say to really explain why this meant so much to me other than... it just did. You, whoever is reading this, probably think I am ridiculous. It's just, over the years and through the many adventures I have taken, some of my favorite memories are of the random people I met along the way. From each person, no matter how long we were able to interact, I took a little piece of them away with me. Today I am the product of the beautiful people who have come and gone throughout my life. Andrew and his adventure, and the people he met on it, and his wisdom, and his beautiful way of looking at the world has become a part of me now, and that makes me happy. Through Andrew's exploration of humanity, I have renewed faith in it; renewed faith in this whole process of life in general. On such an emotional day, I really needed that.

Some of the best moments in life happen when something that appears to be insignificant surprises us with something extraordinary.

In the end, sure, Andrew is just a regular, 23 year old, shaggy haired, smiley, dude that decided to leave his hometown in Pennsylvania and walk across the U.S.

But then, most people would never actually have the guts to do something like that. Can you imagine?

Walk. Across. The. Country.

Not to mention, most people wouldn't take the time to get to know strangers or, "The average joe", as he says. I won't even say hi to someone in a grocery store! His adventure is not just "walking". He has decided to take the time to get to know his fellow humans, to connect with them, and to see the world we forget how lucky we are to have, from outside of a vehicle.

I think we could all learn something from Andrew. Angel or not.

Before we left, he gave Melissa and I each a little brown stone and because it was late I forgot it's name and meaning. I suck. I will report back on that. It made sense considering what he was doing, though, and was extremely sentimental, which seems to be a theme with him. We all hugged and Melissa and I went home feeling content with the world.

Andrew, if you read this, I hope you don't think I'm a freak for writing all of this, and thank you for turning what could have been considered a sad day into a learning experience and a new friendship formed. You rock.

Everyone needs to check his blog out: Walking to Listen. After he hits the Gulf coast, which will be sometime today, he is going to hang out for a day or so then start heading toward California. If you see him in your town... Feed him. House him. Talk to him.

Lessons in my first weeks of school

2012-01-27T11:00:00.000-06:00

I have been busy, busy, busy with school.

I LOVE it. I don't even care that some of it is hard (French). It just makes me that much more determined.

Here are a few lessons I learned in the last two weeks:

-Always order your books well before school starts and make sure you don't need a code for an accompanying online program before buying them on Amazon. I bought mine a week before from Amazon and didn't get most of them until a week after school started. I also found out that half of them needed an online code, which only comes with new books. I ended up having to buy the code anyway (I couldn't until yesterday), which defeated the purpose of buying on Amazon which was, obviously, to save money. I also got behind on some assignments, which really irks me.

-Don't ever assume there will be parking closer to your next class. I tried driving from class to class on my first day. Not only was I risking getting a ticket because everyone has designated parking, but the parking is so bad that I should have kept the spot I had and walked - fast. I was almost late for my classes because I was having to circle the entire campus to find another parking space and ended up having to park even further away than I was in the first place.

-Just because I haven't been in school for forever, doesn't mean I'm a complete moron. I'm keeping up with everyone just fine - so far.

-Always keep an umbrella, rain boots, and a rain coat in the car. I walked into my third class yesterday looking as though I had taken a shower with my clothes on; shoes, hoodie, white t-shirt, and all. It. Was. Pouring. And my classes are far apart. As I was walking through what could have easily been a tsunami, all I could think about was that scene in Forrest Gump when he was talking about the rain going down-ways, up-ways, side-ways.... Yea. There was no escaping it. I had the hood of my hoodie over my head, which was doing nothing. I held onto the bottom of my backpack straps and hauled ass. I was splashed by cars driving by, I stomped through deep puddles, and when I finally reached my car (I cheated. I couldn't walk the entire way. And luckily - there was parking at my next class) the rain switched directions and slapped me right in the face. I couldn't see the handle to the car. Finally, after scrambling around and cracking the hell up, I got into my car and continued to laugh for a minute. I finally got to my class and squeaked, shoes completely soaked, all the way to my chair. It was funny until the cold air conditioning began to induce hypothermia. No thanks. Next time I will be prepared.

-Learning a new language is harder than it seems. Especially when you haven't even taken an English class in forever. FYI (for anyone who isn't already aware), college English is nothing but writing papers, which I'm totally cool with and doing really well with so far. However, if you are like me and have forgotten what is what in a sentence (pronouns, nouns, verbs, etc..), be prepared to relearn that on your own to make another language make sense. The day my professor covered these things, I kinda wanted to leap out of the nearest window. It's so embarrassing to admit, but to me, it was gibberish on top of gibberish. I came straight home and have been studying this crap ever since. Luckily, relearning the parts of a sentence wasn't that difficult. Just had to refresh. And I'm starting to get the French stuff. My accent is atrocious, but at least I know what I'm saying. Ha!

I've made a promise to myself that I would never be too busy for my blog. So, this is me taking a break from my homework to write in it. However, I have way too much to do and I must get back to it.

Au Revoir!

The iPhone - and why I shouldn't be allowed to own technology.

2012-01-22T19:01:00.000-06:00

I recently got an iPhone after avoiding it for years. I'm not sure why I avoided it exactly, other than the fact that it's become a habit of mine to avoid things everyone else likes for long periods of time only to succumb to the awesomeness of whatever that thing is every freaking time. Not sure why I don't give this habit up - it's my cross to bear.

Anyway, I recently discovered this app Cam Wow (Thank you Kristle).

This is the result.

Viewer discretion is advised.

I'm not sure what's worse. The fact that it took me so long to discover the greatness of the iPhone, or the fact that it took this app to convince me of it's greatness.

Sweet dreams my friends.

Non-Traditional Student

2012-01-20T19:16:00.000-06:00

The first time I applied for college was when I was 20 years old. I had been married for only a couple of months, my husband was deployed, and I had recently realized that my current career, flight attending, just did not fit in with my new life. I needed something more stable - something that gave me a better paycheck and allowed me to be home every night. I knew the only way I would be able to get what I wanted was to go back to school, so I signed up.

Not long after, I got the acceptance letter. I took my math placement test and applied for financial aid. Everything was set for the Summer semester. I was so excited and proud of myself. Until that point I had never imagined myself to be a college student. I always thought I didn't need school to succeed. Now, with school at my fingertips, I wanted nothing more.

A week or so later, I got the message that Cleve had been injured in Iraq. I threw college to the side and I went to DC to take care of my husband.

Over the next four years I applied to college multiple times. I've lost count of how many. Each time Cleve seemed to be doing better and things seemed to be more stable, I would find the nearest college and apply. Each time I eventually had to resign for one reason or another, usually pertaining to his injuries; sometimes due to my total insanity and inability to cope with our new life. Going to college, it seemed, had become an unattainable goal. Still, it became an obsession - my ultimate goal in life.

It has been six years since Cleve was injured. Six. Freaking. Years. It has also been six years since I applied for college for the very first time and was shot down by life's crazy circumstances. It's been a long journey. But that's ok. Because today, I write this AS a student (thank you, thank you). In fact, I just finished my first week. I finally did it.

Though I am much older than I would prefer to be as a college freshman (it's very weird to have 19 year-olds as my peers), I am proud of myself for making it here at all, and for having the gonads to do it after not seeing the inside of a classroom for nine years. And really, I probably have a lot more to offer at this point in my life than I would have back then, anyway. I know exactly what I want to do, I know how the "real world" works, and I know how lucky I am to be able to even have an education.

To anyone who may be considering going to college as a non-traditional student, I encourage you to do so. It is not as bad as you might think it is. In fact, it's pretty awesome - I think, anyway.

Yesterday, as I was running to my next class, sure I was going to be late, I felt like I was going to cry. Not because I was afraid of being late, but because I was so happy to be having that problem. I was a student late for class. What an amazing gift!

It's never too late to tackle your goals and never too late to create a new life for yourself. I'm so excited to see where this takes me.

**Wife [Widow] of a Wounded Marine**