something about a

there is something about a funeral. there is something about a place in time where life stands still. where life as we all know it sits in a purgatory of sorts, yet not of the one that has passed but to those that have to say good bye. interestingly enough, this purgatory of sorts is not a place of loneliness or solitude. it is a place, in this instance at a funeral where a generational timeline is seen and support runs rampant.


i open by saying that my thoughts and prayers are with those that have loved and lost, those that hurt and that will continue to search for what may grant them serenity in times of need and may they find what you are looking for.


i have seen my fair share of pain. i have witnessed and felt loss at many levels. i have collapsed to my knees in grief and i have stood strong in support. and, with all of these experiences under my belt, i have yet to feel or think like i have recently upon the loss of another.

as the line creeps and tears are swept aside, i begin to contemplate the moments and the time that has been placed in front of me. usually in instances like this, one is captivated by thoughts of what to say, how it may relate, how to act, or even where to sit. however, perhaps considering my presence is more as support, i can't help but relate on a level of observation.

condolences are shared, and hugs are exchanged. we sit. silent. anxiousness continues to fester.

i cannot help but scan the beautiful church pews. one by one, each person with a different connection. each experiencing loss on a different level. each coping with a distance they have no means to control. each struggling in a silent fight. the doors close and we rise to our feet. the atmosphere is tense, heavy. i am stuck in a moment watching the pain that deafens the room of a husband who has lost his HS sweetheart, a son who is numb, a fiancé who can only be so strong and lastly, a mother. a mother who is sickened with grief, who's face is tired and heart is broken. i am immediately humbled by their loss and i begin to think about generations.

here you have a husband who has lost his pillar, his partner, his wife and a son who's only woman in his life has up until this point been his mother. now, in such turn of tragic events a son is left clinging to his fiancé, and a father is left alone with no shoulder to turn too or cheek to comfort. and i turn to see what had hit me so hard... a mother, there's a mother who has no lessons to teach or guidance to give, yet is being taught the most difficult lesson life can give.

its stunning while looking across a church with choral hymns being sung at perfect poise and with such robust emotion i am able to capture so many  thoughts. in these moments,  it's as if there is no sound coming from any of those who's tears seem to shatter to the floor. its a silent pain that each person is dealing with differently and as they grasp to the person next to them for support, there is a father and a husband who is left gripping the pew in front of him, defeated. her absence has left him alone, with the support and love of many yet the comfort of the one no longer to be found. its as if there has been a generational gap. his partner in this time frame is being "woken from her sleep" and he is left clinging for strength. meanwhile, his son is left to look towards the only other woman in his life who fits the perfect mold. and a mother is left hanging to what remains.

life is precious and can be touched in so many ways. it is through experiencing things like this as an observer that i am humbled and reminded of what it means to be loved, what it means to love, and how strong it really can be to have both. it is through pain that strength is found and through life that love can exist and after another unfortunate reminder, i find that there is something about life that becomes more valued, even in the wake of death.

the perfect hug

a hug from my dad is one of my favorite things in life. my dads hugs are warm, strong, long and well, if you don't mind me saying,  he gives "the perfect hug". they are the best prescription to any little girls heartache, headache, annoyance or frustration. they are the best remedy for whatever is unwavering. and i mean, whatever is unwavering. so through bad grades, fights with friends, stress at work or an absent heart, this quick fix is always one for the book.

sure as hell better than any little pill...

with my dad being a big guy he tends to wrap his whole heart, soul, arms, chest and body into his hugs... at least with me. my dad is one  of those people who is real with what he shows... anger and love alike. equal passion in both are very evident. however, with that said, i think as his daughter i can speak on behalf of something no one else can. a dads hug, my dads hugs more specifically are unlike any other.

these things are incredible. they are encompassing, almost filling and well, at times they even make it hard to breath (the good kind of course). sure, it might be my awkward height and his strong arms, or well... that he will say things like "harder!" and squeezes until my face is red,  if for some reason he can't feel the real-ness, yah know, can't feel that i'm showing him the love he may deserve in that moment.  his hugs are just long enough to make a girl who has been so far away, feel right at home... no matter the zip code of which they may take place.  sometimes i think the strength behind them is to make up for all of those times as a little girl he literally would have strangled me if he'd hugged as hard as he does now.. so maybe he is just making up for lost time? his hugs symbolize comfort, security and love as they should, because after all...a girls dad always provides big shoes to fill. (especially with hugs like his)

so, i thought it best to share that i admire that... i love that my dad actually calls me out (to no ones surprise i'm sure) if the hug is not up to par. i'm thankful that he has and always will force a better hug...because, sometimes...all you need is a hug from your dad.

ps. i'd love a hug from my dad.
goodnight.

Europe

what is it about Europe? is it old world charm? cobble streets shimmering after an afternoon rain? is it the lovely pubs that line the streets or is it simply the history, or well, the style? you know THAT style. what is it about Europe that has us Americans so wound up and excited? even i have a soft spot in my brain and maybe my heart for a place that i have never been. sure, i have experienced it through friends studying abroad or well, facebook. but, what is it about across the pond that allows for such an idealistic thought of.."oh, i could live in that cottage with that super tiny fridge and no oven! it would be charming!"....uh? no. doubt it.

regardless, London, home of the 2012 summer Olympics and an absolutely perfect backdrop for all of those wanna visit, yummy pub and oh the beautiful pictures i could take thoughts. it makes for a little bit of jealousy when seeing those who are working the summer Olympics, literally getting to experience something unlike no other. but, with great experiences comes cost, and with cost comes bills and with bills come stress. and with that, comes my mindset. oops, just call me debbie.

surely it will be great to experience those things on my own time, because mark my words, i will. and until then we have the Olympics. a global combination of athleticism, patriotism, pride and respect...a wonder to watch from afar. and until my trip across the pond, i will find comfort in the fact that things won't be overpriced due to the Olympics being in town. #win #alwaysthinking

The iconic phone booth, oh and big ben!

a little irish man, oh wait, i mean pub! 

Real life castle...duh.

U-S-A!