tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16036844537695174962024-03-13T13:28:49.223-04:00Shine like StarsJesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331495442644249484noreply@blogger.comBlogger197125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1603684453769517496.post-23296541050941857302014-07-21T18:42:00.002-04:002014-07-21T18:42:52.205-04:00That MomentThey said it would happen, but I couldn't believe them. The pain consumed me and grief fogged my thoughts. Death seemed to be right around the corner. There was simply no way I would survive such a profound loss.<br />
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Suicide shatters.</div>
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My life and the person I was before Dude's death lay in a million pieces on the floor. There would be no way to rebuild without cracks in this new puzzle. The new puzzle otherwise known as my life after Dude's death.</div>
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At first, it took every breath I had to make it through the day. The excruciating pain harbored in my heart made me question how many breaths I had left. People I would now consider my dearest friends rushed to my side. They wanted to help. I wanted them there too, but could not articulate the help I needed. A hug. The freedom to cry. Food I may or may not be able to eat. I begged people - please, PLEASE do not tell me to be happy or to remember the good times. Remembering Dude loved me was hard enough. Now was the time to feel however I wanted to feel, and I hated that I felt like I had to ask permission to express my feelings. I gravitated towards those who gave me a pass to be who I needed to be no matter how ugly that looked. </div>
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Why was I still here? Why did he leave me behind? What was my purpose? What are my dreams? You have to ask those questions because asking why Dude took his own life or what more I could have done to prevent this is a vicious cycle. I never believed this could be a reality, but he did. He took care of me despite his own pain. I did everything I could to help him and show him how much I loved him. He was thankful and I'm thankful, too. </div>
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Suicide shatters but God redeems.</div>
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God put the right people by my side and in my life. He awakened a dream I had put to bed many years ago. He opened my eyes to the small things that bring beauty to life. The last two years have not been without struggle. Who sues LSAC before going to law school? I do. Who got rejected from every law school to which she applied? I did. But none of that was as bad as Dude's death. And my support structure remained in tact. Dude had given up (or rather, decided to end the pain). I couldn't. I wouldn't. I had to press on.</div>
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My friend has whisked me away to NYC for some fun. Another planned some wonderful weekends in Texas. My parents and I have been able to travel. I thank God every day for my newest mentor and our strong bond. My acceptance and scholarships to law school. The overwhelming response to Dude's fundraising campaign. Mary and her wisdom. These blessings and many more are not lost on me.</div>
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Every day I think about Dude. This experience is life changing and will not go away. But... slowly but surely joy mixes in with the pain. They said it would happen, but I couldn't believe them.</div>
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I can smile without tears in my eyes (most of the time). I can laugh without feeling guilty. I can remember Dude saying he wanted all my dreams to come true and I can chase after those dreams no matter how crazy others think I am. I can remember that he loved me, love him, and still more forward. </div>
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They said it would happen. I couldn't believe them. But, they were right. That moment you realize you are embracing your new life is <i>SWEET.</i></div>
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In a month, I will embark on a new adventure. One that Dude went on before me. I could have never predicted my life would be like this. The last two years have been horrific yet redeeming. <br />
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I'm nervous and scared and excited for what's to come. But I know God is picking up those pieces and building a new life for me. There will be cracks - but those cracks. They leave room for the love and light of God and Dude to shine through. </div>
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Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331495442644249484noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1603684453769517496.post-25652798223964859052014-05-05T19:15:00.000-04:002014-05-05T19:15:00.339-04:00Just Around The CornerThe night before I took the LSAT I had a dream about Dude. I have only had a couple dreams about him since he has died, and I don't normally write them down. Oftentimes, it takes me a long time to tell anyone about them because I feel like they are my secret and nobody should know about it except me and Dude. I want to write this one down, but I think it is an important message for me to remember -- and an important message for our close friends to remember, too.<br />
<br />
Here's the dream --<br />
<br />
I went to visit Dude's brother in the hospital. He had a badly broken leg and had surgery to repair the damage. As I approached Matt's hospital bed, I saw him playing with some Redskins matchbox cars.<br />
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"Matt, where did you get those cars? I had given them to Mike some time ago. And, you are a Steelers fan! What are you DOING?"<br />
<br />
"Mike just gave them to me."<br />
<br />
"What?! How is that possible?! Where is he?"<br />
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"Jess, he's just around the corner."<br />
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"What do you mean?! What is he doing there?"<br />
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"Working at the Verizon store."<br />
<br />
"Does he have a phone?"<br />
<br />
"Yup. All we have to do is "call" him and he will be with us."<br />
<br />
"But, if he is working there, we have to give everyone their money back. They think he is dead and have donated to honor him. I am going to get the list together to give everyone a refund."<br />
<br />
"Jess, we can't tell anyone. It's just for us to know. But if you want him, just ask."<br />
<br />
He's just around the corner!<br />
<br />
Until I see you again... Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331495442644249484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1603684453769517496.post-53083022804822582012014-02-08T21:35:00.000-05:002014-02-08T21:35:33.112-05:00Learning to Dance with the LimpI am finally feeling the deep grief start to dissipate. This year kicked off with a lovely invitation from my neighbor who invited me to her annual New Year’s Eve party. I knew I wouldn’t know many people there, but was thrilled to have been thought of and was excited to go. Last year, I would have immediately declined the invitation because I couldn’t handle the fact that I was in an unfamiliar situation. It would have taken far too much energy to fake having a good time. And, yes, I would have faked it because legitimately celebrating a new year was not possible. This year, I tried on four different outfits before deciding on the perfect one and happily joined in on the festivities. Almost everyone I talked to I had just met and the conversation did not feel exhausting as it had in the past. This party was a big step for me and I knew if I had a good time then 2014 would start off on the right foot!<br /><br />Just two and a half weeks after that I flew to Texas to celebrate my birthday with my dear friends. Normally I go to Texas in the summer, but it was Carmen’s idea that I come for my birthday this year and what a brilliant idea that was! I don’t worry about anything with these friends. I can completely be myself, whatever that looks like. Last year, I went to visit, and Carmen and Jason had so many fun things planned. The Houston Rodeo topped the list! I cherished every minute with them and appreciated all that they had done for me, but it felt difficult to truly enjoy it all. I was grateful to be there, but I was anxious. I was sad. But I was trying. This year it was a true gift to be able to celebrate – to celebrate my birthday, to celebrate our friendship, and to celebrate the ability to feel joy and recognize it as such. As Carmen noted, last year I was not myself, I wasn’t all there, but this year, I’m back! I boarded the plane back to DC thanking God for a heartfelt and joyous weekend with such dear friends in which I was able to fully participate. I’ll post a separate blog on all that I did to usher in 32.<br /><br />I’m also pretty excited about my upcoming ski trip, some fun weekends ahead, and my family vacation to the Caribbean. Our trip, of course, purposefully corresponds with the anniversary of Dude’s death, but I’m grateful for the opportunity to enjoy some fun in the sun and sand with a drink in my hand. It lessens the pain just a little. Grief counselors told me there would come a time where I could mix joy with pain. I looked at them like there were nuts and believed that might be the case for other people, but certainly not for me. Now I see it. There are still days or moments when I slammed with pain, but I can now recognize and appreciate happy times, too.<br /><br />Ann Lamott sums it up perfectly:<br /><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
“You will lose someone you can’t live without, and your heart will be badly broken, and the bad news is that you never completely get over the loss of your beloved. But this is also the good news. They live forever in your broken heart that doesn’t seal back up. And you come through. It’s like having a broken leg that never heals perfectly – that still hurts when the weather gets cold, but you learn to dance with the limp.”<br /> </blockquote>
For me, 2014 is the year to learn to dance with the limp.Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331495442644249484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1603684453769517496.post-47798928800301057522013-12-16T16:33:00.000-05:002013-12-16T16:33:27.899-05:00What I've Learned From Tragic and Profound Loss When Dude first died, I thought I'd be in relentless pain forever. I couldn't imagine living again. People told me time would not ever take away the pain, but would ease it. That was hard to believe, but now a little over a year and a half later, I see what they meant. Time does help. Through doing my grief work I have learned some other things, too... <br />
<br />
1. God is there even when He seems absent. Wrestle with Him. He can take it and you will learn more about yourself and your faith from doing so.<br /><br />
2. You cannot help yourself alone. Ask for and accept help provided to you. Some people will be there for you; some will walk away from you. Both are okay.<br /><br />
3. It is okay, and sometimes necessary, to say no<br /><br />
4. Joy without guilt will eventually creep back into your life. By moving forward, you are honoring your loved one, not forgetting about them.<br /><br />
5. Deep grief makes you more thankful – for the little things, for every day, for what you still have<br /><br />
6. People will encourage you to be happy. That's mostly because they are uncomfortable with you being sad. Feel however you need to feel whenever you need to feel it. Experiencing a wide range of emotions is an important part of the "process".<br />
<br />7. A grieving process?! That's baloney!<br />
<br />
8. Follow your dreams! Life is too short to wait for a better day. A better day may not come, so just do it now.<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b>“Grief goes with you every day, whatever you’re doing, when there’s
great moments, when there’s hard moments…[but]There’s an empowerment that
comes with grief. At some point, you find it. It’s very hard, but you
will find it. I think at a certain point you can choose to sort of fall
from this or you can choose to rise. And that’s what I am just trying
to do…I know that’s what he would have wanted, to just do my best and
hopefully make something positive from where I go in the rest of my
life.” </b></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
– Lea Michelle (couldn’t have said it better) </blockquote>
Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331495442644249484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1603684453769517496.post-26378957788962094012013-12-04T20:01:00.000-05:002013-12-04T20:01:40.273-05:00Zero to 60 in....2 years?The months, if not the year, before Dude’s death were troublesome. He was so sick and in and out of the hospital. And he wanted all of it to be kept a secret. I still feel bad that many of his close friends did not know what was going on, but I encouraged him over and over to share with them. He refused, and I had to honor that for him. All of the effort put into making him feel like life was worth living ultimately ended in failure, but I hope that it kept him alive for a little while longer. Towards the end, he took extremely good care of me despite his own pain. I didn’t know what was about to happen, but he knew, and I am forever grateful to him for the love he showed me up until the last minute. <br /><br />
April 4, 2012 – the day I was officially notified of Dude’s death is also the day I hit rock bottom. <a href="http://livelaughlovewithoutlimits.blogspot.com/2012/10/that-day.html">Intuitively, I knew he was dead on April 3rd</a>, but my fears weren’t confirmed until the next day. When I hit rock bottom, I hit it HARD. I felt like I had just been in ripped in two, like my heart looked like the Grand Canyon, and someone took what was left and was just simultaneously and repeatedly stabbing me with swords and punching me. My prayers alternated between “Please God. Just keep my heart beating” to “Forget it. I can’t live like this. I would rather be with him. I won’t take my own life, but heaven is where I want to be. Make it happen. ” My faith, my family and friends, and some grief counseling carried me, but I was in bad, bad shape. My world as I’d known it was blown wide open. Forever changed. I had to start all over.<br /><br />
Law school has always been in the back of my mind. My parents encouraged me to attend law school immediately after undergrad. I told them that I was not ready for that. It is a HUGE commitment and I feel you need a good reason to go to law school. At the time, “my parents think I’d be a good attorney” did not qualify as a good reason, so I said no, and ventured into the workforce. Dude and I discussed the possibility of my returning to school and a move to London seemed much more appealing. This relocation never (or hasn’t yet) happened. As I continue to advance in my career, law school kept popping up and seemed to make more and more sense. After Dude’s death, the grief counselors encouraged me to get a goal to push me forward into this “new life”. I told them I wanted to go to law school. Without missing a beat, they said, “go for it!” So I did.<br /><br />
I told my friends and family of my plan and got some crazy looks. Some questioned my ability to take on such a huge commitment of studying for the LSAT during a time of such deep grief. A few encouraged me to go find a husband and have some children instead. Some thought one masters was enough. Many didn’t say anything discouraging, but I think they were thinking this was a crisis move. I tossed around the idea with my bosses and other colleagues to ensure I wasn’t just overreacting to trauma. The response was overwhelmingly positive, so I continued.<br /><br />
And then I ran into speed bumps…but God being as awesome as He is, gave me a mentor. And not just any mentor, but one who is ridiculously respected in the legal community across the US. And then I applied to law school and had nothing but a pile of rejection letters. My mentor believed in me when no one else did and backed me 100% when I told her I was not giving up. <br /><br />
I sued LSAC (the testing board) for violating the American Disabilities Act. We settled three days before the October exam. I was sick at the time, but was not going to miss an opportunity that I’d worked so hard for, and I took the exam. My score was much improved, which meant I’d reapply. <br /><br />
I submitted my applications and said a prayer. Within 4 days, I received my first admission decision. It was an ACCEPTANCE to American University Washington College of Law. At first, I thought it was just a second email acknowledging they’d received my application. I was annoyed because they’d already notified me that they had my package and earlier that day declined to meet with me. I opened it up and the first word I see is “CONGRATULATIONS!!” Not used to seeing those words, I keep re-reading it. They just got my application on Monday and it was Friday. It had to be a joke. It had to be a mistake. But it wasn’t. I now have the paper letter and a magnet to prove it. It was God’s confirmation that despite all of the tragedy and trouble and crazy looks that have come my way over the last 1.5 -2 years, He has a plan for me. Dude has left, but I have work left to do on earth. <br />
A firm believer in needing a reason to go to law school, I now have two interests – government procurement law and disability rights law. I feel strongly about doing disability rights law pro bono because I can’t bear to have others pay the amount I did to simply get the accommodations they need and are lawfully entitled to have. In addition to my new interests, I also gained the most amazing mentor who is overwhelmed with joy at the news of my acceptance. Best of all, this man,<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-U2rUHkUs6-U/Up_MHOzkuvI/AAAAAAAAA5o/mVsv3pzk2bQ/s1600/416632_360895490619135_1764240704_o-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-U2rUHkUs6-U/Up_MHOzkuvI/AAAAAAAAA5o/mVsv3pzk2bQ/s320/416632_360895490619135_1764240704_o-1.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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the “Most Outstanding Student” of UR Law Class of 2007 watches over me. <br /><br />
It’s been a slow climb up from rock bottom. I am still working on it. Law school brings with it loads of work, but a hope for the future – a new life. I get sad that Dude is not physically here to be with me on this new adventure, but as two of his friends told me when I shared the news, “Mike knows. He is very proud and is smiling down on you” Yes, yes he is. And life is getting much better. <br />
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<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: center;">
<em>“If your heart is broken, you’ll find God right there;</em><br />
<em> if you’re kicked in the gut, he’ll help you catch your breath.”</em><br />
- Psalm 34:18, The Message</div>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"<i>For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you - plans to give you hope and a future" </i>- Jeremiah 29:11<i><br /></i></blockquote>
Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331495442644249484noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1603684453769517496.post-46744797815816299482013-11-20T20:24:00.000-05:002013-11-20T20:33:59.113-05:00HonorI am one of ten classmates on our tenth reunion committee and we are making calls and emailing our classmates to encourage attendance at Reunion and to ask them to make a donation in honor of our 4 years spent together at 28 Westhampton Way. I should be a pro at fundraising and encouraging attendance at reunion because I have been raising funds for Mike's scholarship since May and am proudest Spider you will ever meet, so without a doubt, I'll be back on campus and would love to see all of my classmates as well.<br />
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If I'm really honest, I went back for our 5 year reunion and didn't have the best time. The University has completely revamped the way reunions are run, and I mean I know I am on the committee, but y'all, it is going to be FANTASTIC! If you are a UR'04 Spider, you should be super excited to come!<br />
<br />
As I set down the phone, I got to thinking about what it means to honor. To me, it means a couple of things.<br />
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<li>You are acknowledging what your time on campus meant to you. Maybe you met your spouse, forged indelible friendships, acquired the skills and knowledge that have contributed to your success today or just had some epic parties at The Row (I hope The Row is not all UR meant to you, but whatever it takes!)</li>
</ul>
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<li>A donation, no matter the size, is a way to ensure future Spiders are able to have those same experiences that were so memorable to you. Or, dare I say, your gift could be allowing them to have an even better experience. Either way, past, present and future Spiders all share a common experience and that wouldn't be possible without the help of those that have gone before us. </li>
</ul>
One of the reasons I wanted to establish the scholarship fund for Mike was to honor his life and the incredible impact he had on our campus. He would want to help future Spiders share in the academic and extracurricular experiences and friendships he held so dear. With your help, we can do our part to impact the next generation of Spiders for years to come. Right now, legally I am not allowed to give a lot of specific details about the scholarship, but I will say that it will <b>not </b>be<b> </b>a one-and-done type deal. While the fundraising campaign will end on May 8, 2014, the funds will be given for years to come. It will impact more than just one Spider.<br />
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So, as you think back on your time on campus, as you think back to your friendships/classmates that/who may have contributed to those fond memories, consider giving to University of Richmond and specifically, the Mike Clements Memorial Fund. Your donation will get you a ticket to the party in the Greek Theatre on May 30 (if you are Class of 2004). And you should know, the University makes me aware of your generosity, but does not divulge the amount of your contribution. As far as I am concerned, every dollar counts and I am just so thankful you would be a part of something so special.<br />
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If you'd like to help, go to www.givenow.richmond.edu, select "Other" and type in Mike Clements Memorial Fund. All of the donations are <u>tax deductible</u>. If you've already donated, THANK YOU doesn't seem like an adequate expression of my gratitude. We currently have a little over $15,000 thanks to you. <br />
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Honor your time. Honor your classmate/friend, Mike. And, of course, GO SPIDERS!<br />
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<b>WE ARE UR.</b></div>
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<b> </b></div>
Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331495442644249484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1603684453769517496.post-13841939843798018352013-11-14T19:37:00.000-05:002013-11-14T20:53:14.931-05:00The First TimeYesterday was a difficult day. My parents and I drove up to Washington, PA to attend Jim’s (Dude’s dad) funeral. Jim passed away on Saturday, November 9, after a long but well fought battle with Alzheimer’s. I remember the day I learned that Jim had Alzheimer’s. I remember exactly where I was (and what Dude was wearing – strange). He and I decided that we would go check out this new cupcake place that had just opened up by me. We had just had a fun night with our friends in DC, but as we sat across from each other munching on our cupcakes, his face got long and the conversation turned very serious. The fun that we’d just experienced was miles away.<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
“My dad has Alzheimer’s. We have to close the practice. “</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
“What?! Your dad is 55. What the heck does that even mean?!”</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
“I don’t know, Jess, but it’s bad. It’s going to be bad.”</blockquote>
In that moment, neither of us understood the impact Jim’s illness would have on the family, and on Dude, in particular. In the succeeding years as Jim’s illness progressed, I was excited when Jim still remembered who I was and was touched by the fact that Dude visited his dad in the nursing home as often as possible, lighting up as he would tell me about the moments he shared with him each time. We both understood the importance of constant contact with Jim and I’d encourage Dude that, no matter the circumstances, that contact was essential. He agreed. The last email Dude ever sent to me contained a photo of his dad at Falling Water, an outing the two of them shared just shortly before Dude died. I remember the excitement in Dude’s voice as he recalled the fun they had visiting that landmark and then he exclaimed, “I’ll email the picture I took!” He was close to his dad. And, as Jim’s illness claimed more and more of his mind -- but not his spirit, sense of humor or faith – Dude struggled, too.<br />
<br />
I always knew I would attend Jim’s funeral. I had never imagined attending it without Dude.<br />
<br />
As I drove up yesterday, I anticipated things. I looked forward to seeing all of the family. I didn’t think the funeral would be as hard on me, but it was incredibly difficult. Not only was it the first time I was attending a family function without Dude, Dude and his dad were so much alike that as I listened to the eulogies, I felt like they were talking about Dude. Technically, Dude’s funeral was the first family function without Dude, but I was in such shock, I didn’t remember my name and can’t really recall one detail of that whole day. This time, I was alert and it was painful. Really painful. I cried for his mom and brothers. I cried because I always thought Jim would make the best grandfather and he didn’t get that opportunity. I cried looking at photos of Dude when he was little and remembered the stories Jim would share. I cried because as much as Jim was not my father, he was a part of my life for 12 years, I traveled this long road with Dude and now it was over. I cried because the two of them were reunited in heaven.<br />
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Dude’s family has always been welcoming to me, but they’ve been even more loving and supportive in the wake of his death. It was wonderful to spend time with all of those with whom I was familiar and to meet a few I hadn’t met. This time I ate my whole lunch – at Dude’s funeral, I didn’t touch it – and the reception was full of love and laughter and<br />
reminiscing. <br />
<br />
Then it got hard again. Ava asked if I wanted to go see Dude. Of course I did! I tell her at least once a month that I need to come up and see him. Yesterday was the day. The first time I would get to see Dude’s grave. I expected pain that would split me in two to creep into my heart. I even asked if I needed to stop on the way to get a bottle of wine and a bucket of Sarris chocolate to make it through this experience. <br />
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As we drove up to the cemetery, we passed his high school. At Trinity High School, they are named the “Hillers” because their school sits on a hill. And, Dude was King of the Hill – class president, prom king, you name it. Just past his school, we approached these beautiful gardens that held tombstone after tombstone. We found the undertaker’s house and went in to find out exactly where Dude was. He highlighted a map and off we went. The mausoleums were right by a lake – just a beautiful spot. As we were getting out of the car, we looked up, and this graceful deer ran right in front of us. I reached for my phone to take a photo and the deer was gone. The sun shone down, and despite what the thermometer said, it did not feel cold. <br />
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I walked up to the first mausoleum and opened the door. There were walls of marble slots with names and birth and death dates. My parents and I looked and looked and didn’t see Dude. This was the one the undertaker said he was in, but we couldn’t find him. We went inside the little room contained within the big building and looked. No Dude. We went in the building next door. Again, we searched and searched to no avail. There were a bunch of chairs in the middle of the room, so I sat down and pivoted to try to get a better look. Frustrated, I called Ava, but she didn’t answer. Back to the other building we went to look again. This time in the little room, we find a note someone left and family photos of him and a candle with his name, but where on earth were his ashes?! Now, I am getting really mad and Dad offers to go back to the undertaker’s house to ask again. He does, and comes back and says Dude is up high. We look and look. No Dude. At this point, I sink into the chair tucked in the corner leaning up against what look to be empty graves because there are no names on them. I yell “Dude, where ARE you?” and just relax my hand on one of them and continue to look. About 30 seconds later, the door opens. It is the undertaker. He runs in saying that he had totally forgotten that he just moved Dude into a bigger grave last night and has yet to put his name back on the grave because he is about to put his dad in and will put both names on at the same time. <br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
“Where is he? I asked. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
“Right where your hand is”, said the undertaker. </blockquote>
It was a very difficult, but very special day. Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331495442644249484noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1603684453769517496.post-89763937129720516452013-10-20T20:41:00.000-04:002013-10-20T20:41:30.829-04:00Make that dash count!I was once told that the dates on your tombstone are exactly that. Two days. It's the dash that counts. The dash is when you were really living. Lately, I've been reminded to make the best of that dash. After I returned home from London, I went to the DVR to catch up on the Cory Monteith/Finn tribute episode of "Glee". It's a good thing I watched it alone because I pretty much sobbed through the entire episode. From start to finish, tears didn't just stream down my face. It was an all out ugly cry. I kept watching even though at every turn, I was reminded of Dude's death. I was brought back to those early days. To the days when nobody hid their tears, and many spent hours trying to comfort me, his mom and brothers, and all of us most affected by the tragedy. I don't remember much about the episode, but something "Kurt" said hit me hard. I will paraphrase because I don't remember it exactly. <br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"People want to know how Finn died. I don't care how he died. That's not what matters. That was one day in his entire life. I care about how he lived."</blockquote>
<br />
The quote struck me. In the early days and months after Dude's death, I met with many of his friends. Some were my friends too, and some I'd not met before or would only consider an acquaintance. All of them wanted to know one thing. What happened. How did a man full of such life and energy give up on what he would have once deemed a great adventure?! I understood why everyone asked this question yet I didn't want to answer it. I was in the trenches for all of the ups and downs, so of course, I could have provided an answer. Do I truly know the real answer? Probably not, but I know enough to provide something that would suffice. Yet I'd always redirect the question. I'd shy away from answering not only because I wanted to protect Dude, but because to answer the question would be to tell them of a man they did not know. See, Dude was not Dude when he died. As one of his brothers said, "he got lost and forgot who he was." I could recall those last few months. I could discuss the transformation I saw in him. The hopes. The fears. The good. The bad. The ugly. But, it would not be an accurate description of the man they knew. The man who had touched their lives. So, in response to the question of "What happened?", I'd politely say focus on the man you called your friend. Focus on what you loved most about him and how he made you feel. Focus on what he did that touched you. Focus on the lessons you learned from him. Focus on how he lived. Not how he died. It is in this way that Dude's spirit is kept alive in our hearts. It is in this way that we carry the best of him with us and "introduce" him to those who sadly did not have the opportunity to meet him. I'm sure most of the people I met with may not have been satisfied with that answer. They felt that knowing the details of his illness, his downward spiral that ultimately lead to this death would help them heal. Maybe I did them a disservice by not going into all of the tragic details. If so, I'm sorry. But, his death was one day. The last thing I want is for people to remember him for how he died. Very few people want to be remembered for how they died. It's how you live that matters. It's the dash that counts!<br />
<br />
Tonight, I was once again reminded to make life count. University of Richmond, where I went to college, is a small school and everyone knows everyone. Andrew Holter was a couple years younger than I, but he was an opinion editor of The Collegian, our newspaper, and I remember him and his columns well. They were always funny yet thought-provoking. Even when Andrew was studying abroad, he took the time to write his columns. Perhaps the most thought provoking thing Andrew wrote came shortly before his accidental death -- he drowned while visiting some friends in Italy. Before his death, Andrew (unknowingly) wrote, <br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div class="_1x1">
<div class="userContentWrapper">
<div class="_wk">
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">"In
life, the gains come on slowly, and the losses happen in an instant.
Life is tragic. If you're reading this, that means you're alive. Do
something with it. You don't want to die without any scars, do you? " </span></div>
</div>
</div>
</blockquote>
<br />
It's the dash that counts! <br />
<span class="UFIBlingBoxTimeline"><span data-reactid=".r[5qypj]"></span></span><span class="UIActionLinks UIActionLinks_bottom" data-ft="{"tn":"=","type":20}"><span></span></span> Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331495442644249484noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1603684453769517496.post-83696651107270386022013-10-07T18:33:00.000-04:002013-10-07T18:33:32.114-04:00Dear Dude: 18 Months LaterDear Dude,<br />
<br />
It is hard to believe that it has been 18 months since you left this earth. It is a struggle to believe that you are gone at all. There are still days that it just seems like a horrible nightmare and I'll wake up from it all. Still nights when I have to listen to your voicemail to fall asleep because I was so used to talking to you before I went to bed. There are days when I just want to gchat you or call or wait for you to call and say, "Hurry up and get ready. I'm coming!" <br />
<br />
I imagine it will always be like this to some degree. <br />
<br />
There are days when it seems like you've been gone for so long. Days when I burst out laughing remembering something you said or did sometime. Days when the pain is not so sharp; when the longing is not so desperate. There are days when I feel like I am starting to adjust to all of this. There are times when I "hear" you say, " I am here. I did not and will not leave you." There are conversations that begin with "If Mike was here.....or Dude would totally dig that!"<br />
<br />
I imagine it will always be like this to some degree, too. <br />
<br />
So much is different yet so much is the same. My/our friends continue to surround and support me unconditionally. Memories of you come flooding in from others in the form of a story, old photos, a donation to your scholarship, or even just saying your name. I love that they share these things with me. And, DUDE! Your scholarship!! It's hard work, but you totally deserve it. Everyone has been generous -- my family and friends who have never met you, people you touched on campus or people you knew in other ways. Please echo my prayer to Jesus that that fund will soar and we will reach our goal by May 8th. You deserve the best of the best, Dude, and I'll do everything I can to make that happen for you. <br />
<br />
You may be gone, but you are not forgotten. Ever. And you are so very loved.<br />
<br />
I know it will always be that way. <br />
<br />
Love, meJesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331495442644249484noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1603684453769517496.post-42171293220582910222013-09-19T19:45:00.000-04:002013-09-19T19:50:43.618-04:00A Prayer for Relief I've been rather absent from my blog for the last couple months. That's mostly because I have been trying to stay away from the computer and enjoy the sunshine, time with family and friends, the pool, everything summer has to offer. I've been trying to look at the lighter side of life even though I feel like life is heavy.<br />
<br />
If you didn't know, I am currently in a law suit with LSAC. That's all I'll say about that because my attorney would probably scold me for discussing the details. I received the formal complaint that was filed in court the other day and began to read through it. I got to one point and burst out laughing. The section where my specific requests are listed is called "Prayer for Relief".<br />
<br />
Prayer for Relief, I thought. Yeah, that sounds about right. I am in need of a prayer for relief. <br />
<br />
I don't like to whine, but I've had a heavy load lately Just when I think I'm ahead, I get knocked back a little bit. I'm not sure why I've had to experience any of the pain of the last year and a half. Maybe one day I will know. I might never know. I have to be OK with it either way. And, I am thankful for the little ways God shows me that despite all of this, He is still there...<br />
<br />
I'm burning the candle at both ends these days. Dealing with LSAC is a struggle, but if a <i>blind student</i> didn't get accommodations for the LSAT, why should I?!?!?! Fundraising for Mike's scholarship is hard work. It's rewarding and he deserves it. But, it's hard work -- and at times, it just knocks me for a loop. I can't believe I have a reason to actually do this. But he deserves it, so I press on. The weight of grief is not as heavy as it used to be, but it's there. Moving forward from such a tragedy takes work, too.<br />
<br />
God and I need to talk. Two things Dude's family and I have said even since his death are: God is good - all.the.time & happiness is just around the corner. I see glimpses, but.... <br />
<br />
I need a prayer for relief in more than just the legal sense.Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331495442644249484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1603684453769517496.post-69777084376120888542013-07-10T18:07:00.001-04:002013-07-10T18:20:33.338-04:00Goodness in GriefLast week marked 15 months since Dude left the world. Not a day goes by that I do not think about him, what happened, and how this has changed my life – and all of the lives of those who loved him – forever. I/we are different now. One devastatingly tragic moment resulted in gradual change. <br />
<br />
It used to be that the physical and emotional pain was palpable and constant. It wouldn’t let up. I thought it would never end. I literally thought I would die. I wanted to die. I would never take my own life, but I didn’t think I’d have to do that. In my mind, there was no possible way I could survive such a tragedy. The expression “Good grief!” would come to mind and all I could think was there is NOTHING good about grief! (I know that’s not what that expression intends but that’s what I would think.) <br />
<br />
Now, it is not as bad. There are certainly horrendous things about grief, especially deep grief. There are more awful consequences in dealing with the death as a suicide. It is incomprehensible that Dude would deliberately and intentionally chose to leave the world forever. He definitely wanted to die, and that is just heartbreaking and tragic and all things horrible. I’d be fooling myself if I said one day it would make sense. It won’t, at least not on earth. I’d be deceiving myself if I said the pain and the emptiness will go away. It will always be present to some degree. You can’t just “get over” or recover from the loss of someone you loved so deeply. He will never meet my husband or my children. That makes me sad. But he wants me to be happy. He wants me to move forward. Amidst the pain, there is some goodness in grief.<br />
<br />
Grief is an excellent teacher. From the start of this journey, I’ve been advised to live one day at a time. That is so hard for me. I am impatient. I was born 13.5 weeks early. I like to GO! But this attitude means I miss things. It means I rush. I don’t fully appreciate what is in front of me. In grief, it is impossible to speed through life. You.Just.Can’t. Some days, especially early on, it seems like a huge accomplishment to get dressed. I’ve had to slow down. I’ve had to spend time with myself. I’ve had to think about what is really important in life. Who is really important in life. I’ve learned who I can depend on and who I should probably let go. Those are important lessons.<br />
<br />
You gain a new perspective on life. I know life can change in an instant. I realize the people who are important are <i>really</i> important. I want to spend time with them, celebrate them, love them, appreciate them because even in the best of times, they could be gone so quickly. I don’t take the days or people in my life for granted as much as I used to before this. The simple things in life have much greater meaning – the beauty of the sunset, the warmth of a sunny day, the gentle breeze that blows through my hair, the snuggles from our dogs are taken in with much deeper gratitude.<br />
<br />
There are days that are still hard. Days when I look around and think I can’t believe this happened!! I can’t believe he is gone. He is not gone. Oh, but he <i>is</i> gone. There are days when his friends and family and I cry together. Days when a slight smile is all I can muster. Days when we nearly bust a gut laughing at a memory Dude left with us. Days when a big ‘ole grin is plastered on my face after learning that someone else donated to his scholarship. Someone else remembered him. That is comforting. This is the “new normal” now. <br />
<br />
I wish that I could have learned these lessons another way. I wish it wasn’t at the expense of losing Dude. But just as his smile, love and the memories we shared will remain in my heart, so too, will what I have learned from this horrific experience. I guess there is some goodness in grief.<br />
<br />
I love you, Dude, and I miss you every day. Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331495442644249484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1603684453769517496.post-46541576956111228842013-07-07T20:36:00.001-04:002013-07-07T20:36:55.474-04:00Dumping Diet CokeDiet Coke and I had a serious relationship for many years. I don't know how long, but it was a long time. I loved that silver and red can. I loved listening to the crack as I pulled back the tab to reveal the liquid goodness. I loved the bubbles. The taste. The fact that I could enjoy that beverage without consuming any calories. Zero. It was glorious.<br />
<br />
I could sometimes consume two (or three...) a day and not even feel one tinge of guilt....until my mother would witness me consume this beverage. I must have had a bit of an addiction because I would often make a point not to drink Diet Coke when she was around me. I'd keep it at my condo or drink it out with friends, but not in my mom's presence. As I type this, I am thinking that I sound like an alcoholic, but I really was a Diet Coke-aholic. I would wake up and have one first thing in the morning. I claimed it was because I wanted the caffeine. Some people drink coffee. I drank Diet Coke. I think the real reason was because I just really enjoyed the taste and needed my "fix" to start the day off right.<br />
<br />
My family and I were on vacation in Aruba in April. We ate every meal together. Every meal I would get a Diet Coke. We were at an all inclusive, which means you can have whatever you want food and drink wise whenever you want. It is a fantastic concept except for the fact that you can gain a lot of weight if you're not careful! To balance out my ridiculous calorie consumption, I drank Diet Coke. But remember my mom was with me. And she loves to get on me about drinking Diet Coke.<br />
<br />
"Don't you know that that stuff is known to cause brain tumors?"<br />
"Do you want to die early?"<br />
"They say drinking diet soda makes you actually gain weight."<br />
"No soda is healthy for you, but diet soda is really bad.<br />
"There's something in that soda that makes you hungry" -- My friend from grad school and I used to try to test the "Diet Coke makes you hungrier theory" and sadly, our experiment produced positive results.<br />
<br />
Anyway, I had to listen to this every day for a week. My mom is an elementary school teacher. That means she will say the same thing three or four different ways if you don't give her the response she wants! It's annoying. I got tired of it. So, on the airplane ride home, I told her I would quit drinking Diet Coke!<br />
<br />
I didn't intend to actually do it. I intended to <i>try </i>to do it.<br />
<br />
My boss used to drink at least 4 Diet Cokes a day. I used to know she was in her office in the morning before I even saw her because I would hear the crack of that silver, red, and black can. All of the sudden, when I returned from Aruba, I no longer heard the crack. I asked her if she was still drinking Diet Coke. Her response was "No, I heard something about how it can make you store fat. I don't need any help storing fat, so I quit."<br />
<br />
"It's only been two days, but I am trying to quit, too. After what you just told me, true or not, I think I am going to try harder", I said.<br />
<br />
Then I started to feel much better. I hated to admit that I was feeling good thanks to no Diet Coke. I wasn't as hungry. And, as time went on, I didn't really miss it. I was shocked at myself!!<br />
<br />
This weekend, I went to the movies and split a drink with a friend. She got a Diet Coke. I took one sip and regretted the decision. I was hoping to embrace the soda like a long lost friend. But, I didn't want anything to do with it. It tasted like a science experiment!!<br />
<br />
It's been 90 days since I've cracked open a can of Diet Coke. I quit cold turkey and don't miss it at all. We're done. Forever. And, I am not sad. I feel better than ever.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<img height="350" id="irc_mi" src="http://productnutrition.thecoca-colacompany.com/images/packagings/Diet_Coke.jpg" style="margin-top: 110px;" width="300" /></div>
Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331495442644249484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1603684453769517496.post-2943222904180510542013-06-30T03:00:00.000-04:002013-06-30T03:00:09.295-04:00Day 30: What I Love About Life Right NowWhew! We made it through the challenge. I, unfortunately, did skip 3 days which was unintentional, but this is the most I've blogged consistently and I enjoyed it. Thanks Katie for setting up everything - especially the link up.<br />
<br />
Okay, on to the question. Well, if you've been following this blog for awhile you probably know that I am not loving life right now. Dude's death has been the most life altering and tragic event of my entire life. Getting into law school (Not in yet. I'll know in August) has been an unnecessary struggle that has brought out determination, persistence, and perseverance in me that I never knew I had. My parents' health issues have forced me to take control of emergency situations and remain calm and stable. All of these unfortunate situations have brought out a different part of me. More strength. More resilience. More confidence. More determination. More boldness. More persistence and perseverance. More love. More gratitude. More prayer. More support from my friends and my family -- even from my prospective law schools.<br />
<br />
Life is not the brightest these days. It's not all that smooth. But... I am learning about myself. I am pushing myself beyond my limits. I am leaning on God. I am determined not to give up on anything. And all of those are good things. Do I love that all of these scary and tragic situations have brought me to this place? Nope. But, I am making the most of them and becoming a better me. That's something to love. Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331495442644249484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1603684453769517496.post-72326589266667911642013-06-29T20:14:00.002-04:002013-06-29T20:14:42.078-04:00Day 29: My Favorite Performance or ShowFirst of all, I apologize for skipping yesterday. We had terrible thunderstorms in DC and the power was knocked out until about an hour ago. It turns out our neighborhood power outage was caused by a tree in my parents' front yard. Ooops! It's technically not our fault because the city is expected to maintain this tree, but anyway, we are real popular in the neighborhood right now. Not!<br />
<br />
Anyway, so my picking my favorite show or performance is very difficult. I think the first concert I went to was Celine Dion in seventh grade. But my parents also tell stories of taking me to see orchestras and my pretending to be the conductor throughout the performance. I have always loved music from a very early age.<br />
<br />
As a gift to my parents (and myself) I get them a subscription to the Kennedy Center, our main performing arts center in DC. This means we get to see about 6 or 7 shows a year. Just last week in fact, we went to see "Anything Goes". It was really fantastic, but not my favorite show. I think my favorite show might be "Memphis". "Memphis" is based on the story of this white DJ, Dewey, who was one of the first white DJs to play black music in the 1950s. I grew up loving Motown and am the daughter of a white mother and black father, so that might be one reason why I love this show. It did win a Tony for Best Musical in 2010, so obviously, I am not the only one who enjoys this show. I have seen it on Broadway as well as in DC and I'd see it again.<br />
<br />
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If you get the opportunity, check this out. You won't be disappointed.<br />
Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331495442644249484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1603684453769517496.post-5692157529012005962013-06-27T18:55:00.001-04:002013-06-27T18:55:37.852-04:00Day 27: My PetsSorry to post so late. I am sick and have a headache the size of Texas. Being sick in the summer is really no fun, but I am at my parents' house. That means our dogs are the best nurses. <br />
<br />
We have two dogs: a four year old Westie named Zoe and a 2 year old Wired Fox Terrier named Phoebe. Zoe has shown me that I am going to be an overprotective mother. I found Zoe online and had to do all of this research to make sure she was from a legitimate breeder and not a puppy mill. I don't think I've ever done so much research in my life. I felt like I was playing detective trying to find out all of the facts. It turns out she was legit, so I made plans to bring her to DC from Kansas. That was quite a trip in itself!<br />
<br />
In order to bring Zoe to the East Coast, I had to purchase a ticket in Pet Class on Delta. She had quite the trip. She left her birth city and drove 3 hours to get to the airport. Then she flew from Kansas City to Dallas. Zoe had a two hour layover in Dallas (I was so nervous they'd forget to put her on the plane!), and then embarked on the last leg to DC. When she got to DC, we met her in baggage claim. One of the airline employees brought her out and she was perfect -- happy, healthy, and clean. We weren't sure what to name her out of three names. Upon presenting the names to the baggage handler, he said "She looks like a Zoe!" He was right and that was her name.<br />
<br />
Zoe is a beautiful dog with a laid back personality. I think that's how she survived the plane ride so well.<br />
<br />
Phoebe is a different story. Phoebe originally lived across the street from my parents. She was the "daughter" of a gay couple, Mike and Gerardo. Mike flew to Chicago and back in one day to get Phoebe. Mike and Gerardo worked everyday, so my mom would go and get Phoebe to play with Zoe during the day. One day, they didn't call to come and get her and Phoebe stayed at our house for 5 days!! Dad decided to walk her across the street (home) and told them that if they didn't have time to take care of her, we would take her! They thought about it for a day or two and then she officially became ours. This was huge news because my dad's motto was always "One wife. One daughter. One dog. " Now he has two dogs! As far as I know, he doesn't have two wives or daughters. :)<br />
<br />
Phoebe is wild and crazy and spunky. She is the opposite of Zoe. The drive each other crazy and are a joy to us. We are so happy to have both of them as a part of our family.<br />
<br />
<br />Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331495442644249484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1603684453769517496.post-81989669224102734682013-06-25T10:08:00.000-04:002013-06-25T10:08:00.962-04:00Day 25: My Grief PlaylistDealing with Dude's death has been hard -- unbearable, at times. Music has helped a lot. Oftentimes, songs have said the words that I can't even begin to speak. Here is a list of my favorites:<br />
<ul>
<li>I Think Of You - Easton Corbin</li>
<li>Why - Rascal Flatts</li>
<li>One Sweet Day - Mariah Carey</li>
<li>Bye Bye - Mariah Carey</li>
<li>Never Forget You - Mariah Carey</li>
<li>I Look To You - Whitney Houston</li>
<li>I Will Always Love You - Whitney Houston</li>
<li>When I Look To The Sky - Train</li>
<li>Everything Falls Apart - Fee</li>
<li>Lovin' You Is Fun - Easton Corbin</li>
<li>The Hurt and the Healer - MercyMe</li>
<li>Save a Place for Me - Matthew West</li>
<li>Before the Morning - Josh Wilson</li>
<li>Over You - Miranda Lambert</li>
<li>Didn't We Almost Have It All - Whitney Houston</li>
<li>Long Way Home - Steven Curtis Chapman</li>
<li>My Heart Will Go On - Celine Dion (I used to hate this song. Not anymore.)</li>
<li>Bridge Over Troubled Waters - Various artists</li>
<li>See you Again - Carrie Underwood</li>
<li>Rainin' You - Brad Paisley</li>
<li>Can't Say Goodbye - Josh Gracin</li>
</ul>
Do you have any favorites? <br /><br />Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331495442644249484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1603684453769517496.post-42092657280268216752013-06-24T09:46:00.001-04:002013-06-24T09:46:12.116-04:00Day 24: The Town I Live InI'm not trying to brag, but I honestly feel so blessed to live in the town I live in. I grew up in Alexandria, Virginia and still live here today. Alexandria is about 15 minutes outside of Washington, DC. I think it is one of the best places to raise a family. Alexandria has a small town feel, but it is right outside of the Nation's capital with all of it's history, culture, political power and diversity.<br />
<br />
Old Town Alexandria, where I live, is not without history of it's own. It was founded in 1749 and was the home of George Washington and Robert E. Lee, Jim Morrison and Mama Cass. Old Town is on the water and served as one of the ten busiest ports in America trading tobacco. I learned this little fact when I googled interesting facts about Alexandria for this post. But, my how times have changed, because now all of the restaurants in Alexandria are smoke free! Thank goodness!<br />
<br />
Old Town is full of restaurants and shops. I can sometimes get in big trouble because I can walk to all of the stores I want to shop at. There are a mix of boutiques and mainstream stores like Loft, Anthropologie, Francesca's, Banana Republic, and Gap. We also have three ice cream shops and three cupcake places. Let's just say I can come home a little heavier with a lighter wallet :) <br />
<br />
Being that Old Town is historic, the town is supposedly haunted. We have two ghost tours that you can take while you are here. Apparently, someone found a head in the alley right by my condo many years ago. On Halloween, people go and look for the "ghost" of the head. Weird. Creepy. I don't do it. I've never seen anyone do it. I don't want to know.<br />
<br />
If ever in the DC area, you shop hop over the river to Old Town, Alexandria. You'll have a great time. Let me know you're here and I'll stop by to say hi!<br />
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I need to take more photos of my town. I don't have any really. I tried to download off of the internet and it wasn't working. But trust me, Old Town is beautiful. DC is beautiful. You should come visit!<br /><br />
<br />Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331495442644249484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1603684453769517496.post-27623575516144974842013-06-24T08:44:00.001-04:002013-06-24T08:44:14.845-04:00Day 23: Videos I LoveI've realized one thing during this blog challenge. I don't use the internet to its full capacity. There's no way I can even think of naming a video I love on YouTube. I don't use it. At all really. I'm missing out I'm sure. I also wonder why I don't use it. I'm a big pop culture fan, so you'd think it'd be right up my alley. But, no. I guess I'll learn from the other bloggers participating in this challenge. I'll check out the videos they post. But, man! I'd better get with the program!Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331495442644249484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1603684453769517496.post-24187713817600973322013-06-22T10:55:00.001-04:002013-06-22T10:55:29.764-04:00Day 22: Website I Enjoy or Care AboutI am not a big internet surfer. I check Facebook religiously. I catch up on my favorite blogs on bloglovin'. I don't have a website that I repeatedly go back to for a pick me up or something of substance. Throughout the day, I'll check CNN, the weather, cruise travel websites for good deals on my next adventure. But, I don't have any favorites. I think it is because I have a love hate relationship with the internet. I love that so much information is at my fingertips and that it is such an incredible communication device in itself. What I hate is that it can be a time waster and suck the life right out of you. So, I don't have a favorite. Is that lame? I don't know, but I today I don't care. It is beautiful outside, so I am going to step away from the computer and go sit at the pool. <br />
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Enjoy the day!Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331495442644249484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1603684453769517496.post-22889343227804832852013-06-20T18:30:00.001-04:002013-06-22T10:50:21.141-04:00Day 20: NicknamesOK, I missed Day 19 "What I miss". Apparently, I took that quite literally and just missed blogging the whole day! HA! Sorry.<br />
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Today's prompt is nicknames. Much to my mom's dismay, I have a ton of nicknames. I think she is the only one who calls me Jessica. More times than not, I will introduce myself as Jessica, but it never sticks these days. You can almost tell when a person met me based on what they call me. My pre-college friends usually refer to me as Jessica. My friends from college and after call me Jess. <br />
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True story: A friend of mine from college called my parents land line when I was home on break. Why they didn't call my cell phone, I don't know. But, anyway. They call my parents' house phone. Mom picks up the phone.<br />
<br />
"Hello?"<br />
"Hi, Is Jess there?"<br />
"Who?"<br />
"Jess?"<br />
"Hmmmm who?"<br />
"Jessica."<br />
"Oh yeah, hold on"<br />
<br />
My mom wasn't trying to be rude, Jess just doesn't compute in her mind. She truly didn't know who Jess was! She's not as bad now, but she says she can't call me Jess. She named me Jessica and that is what she will always call me. She tries Jess and just gets tripped up and ends up adding the -ica at the end!<br />
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My dad most often calls me Jessica or JB. He doesn't call me Jess either. Can't do it. <br />
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One nickname I can't stand is Jessie. I just do not like to be called Jessie. I know plenty of Jessicas that embrace this nickname. Not me. No. Never.<br />
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Other nicknames include Spark (my former boss and some of my colleagues call me this), Little B, Ethel (my best friend and I are both named Jessica, we loved "I Love Lucy" when we were young. She is Lucy. I am Ethel.), J-Bigs, Bigby, Blair, Crutchie, and I am sure there are a few more.<br />
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Bottom line: I rarely get called by my given name -- unless you are my mom! Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331495442644249484noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1603684453769517496.post-28655887887528095202013-06-18T02:00:00.000-04:002013-06-18T02:00:06.992-04:00Day 18: The Professional BridesmaidI feel like a professional bridesmaid. I have been a bridesmaid 10 times. I consider this a compliment because the bride doesn't ask just anyone to be in her wedding. She asks only those closest to her. The number of colored dresses that hang in my closet are a testament to my ability to maintain friendships. I actually "pride" myself on this. My friends are as important to me as my family, so I put forth great effort in my friendships. I am only child, so my friends truly are like my brothers and sisters.<br />
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I began my job as a bridesmaid at age 7. I started out as flower girl, but the wedding took over a year to plan, so I was promoted from flower girl to junior bridesmaid. I was only 7, but I can pretty much tell you every detail of this wedding, and to this day, it remains the best one I've ever attended. I'm hoping my own wedding will dethrone it, but for now, hands down, the best! I was a bridesmaid in my aunt's wedding when I was a tween, and then my career as a professional bridesmaid really took off in my 20s. I've even been kicked out of a wedding! That's a story for another day.<br />
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My duties as a professional bridesmaid have included selecting the engagement ring -- talk about nerve wracking, throwing the engagement party, the bridal shower, the bachelorette party, shielding the bride from drama between bridesmaids, supporting the bride when she asks one of her maids not to attend the wedding, calming the nerves of the bride, arguing with the wedding planner, holding up the dress so the bride could go to the bathroom, wiping away tears, signing the marriage license, spending hours cutting photos and stuffing them into photo coasters (never again!), putting together scrapbooks, decorating the rehearsal dinner space, wearing unattractive dresses, planning special surprises just for the bride, and all in all, doing whatever the bride wants. The bride who kicked me out of her wedding would disagree with this statement, but I take my bridesmaid/maid of honor duties very seriously. <br />
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I enjoy being a bridesmaid, but look forward to the day I am the one in the white dress!<br /><br />Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331495442644249484noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1603684453769517496.post-57921590111888258802013-06-17T06:00:00.000-04:002013-06-17T20:21:59.297-04:00Day 17: What I Am Looking Forward ToI am most looking forward to looking like this again.<br />
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I was this thin six years ago. Then I went to Italy for 3 weeks and had more than one gelato a day. Then I had two major surgeries with no weight bearing for eight weeks. Then my best friend passed away and I turned to "grief eats" to get me through some of the toughest times. And wine. Wine would help me sleep when I couldn't even think about drifting into sweet dreams. And then. And then. And then. The excuses could go on and on, but excuses don't help you shed those pounds.<br />
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I only have 10 pounds to lose, but why does it always seem like it is so tough to lose the last 10 pounds?! It doesn't help that I have a sweet tooth the size of Texas!! <br />
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If only I could follow this advice, I'd be in great shape. I am working on it, but if you have any tips, please share! I can use all of the help I can get. I'm going to work really hard to drop those 10 pounds and keep them off for good. I look forward to feeling my best once again!<br />
<br />Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331495442644249484noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1603684453769517496.post-45528750709871377902013-06-16T06:00:00.000-04:002013-06-16T06:00:07.066-04:00Day 16: Something I am OCD aboutWhen people put something other than cups in car cup holders I go crazy. I get so agitated over this. Cup holders are for cups. They are not for cell phones, spare keys, jewelry, sunglasses, gum, trash or anything else. Cups and cups only. Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331495442644249484noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1603684453769517496.post-23871868150324556452013-06-15T06:30:00.000-04:002013-06-15T06:30:01.851-04:00Day 15: My Dream HouseIf I had to pick any house as my dream house, I would pick this one:<br />
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This is the house used in the movie Father of the Bride (my favorite) and I love the inside of it, assuming the inside of the house in the movie is, indeed, the inside of this house. I also love the outside of it. It just looks like a home to me. One filled with warmth, love, and heartfelt memories. If it is my dream home, though, there are a few things I would change. To make it my dream home, I would<br />
<ul>
<li>move it to the East Coast. I am just not a California girl.</li>
<li>put it in or close to a big city (Washington, DC. I'd probably place it in Alexandria, VA)</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>put it on the river. I absolutely love the water, so my dream house would definitely be on the water. </li>
</ul>
If I could then fill this house with a loving and faithful husband, a playful puppy or two, and some healthy and happy children....oh what a dream that would be!Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331495442644249484noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1603684453769517496.post-34096890412029806192013-06-14T03:00:00.000-04:002013-06-14T03:00:15.759-04:00Day 14: A Photo I Love<style>
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<br />
When pondering this question, this photo immediately came to mind. This is one of my favorite photos ever. It’s a little blurry, but just ignore that.<br />
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I simultaneously love and am totally freaked out by this photo.<br />
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I am an only child.<br />
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He is not my brother.<br />
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He is not my cousin.<br />
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He is not my parents’ long lost son.<br />
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He is not, in the least bit, related to me.<br />
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Joseph is a friend of mine.<br />
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But, we undoubtedly look like we could be brother and sister. <br />
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It freaks us out.<br />
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It freaks our families out.<br />
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Joseph has a sister. She doesn’t look anything like me.<br />
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I always wanted an older brother.<br />
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I love this photo.Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331495442644249484noreply@blogger.com2