Lost Blossoms

Last week, our apple tree was clad in blossoms of pink and white. In just a matter of days, the petals tore free from the branches and were whisked away in the wind. Where dainty blossoms hung, there are now fresh leaves, green with life.

I've loved this first year of owning a home. With every change of the season, it feels like we've just moved in again. Everything feels, smells and looks new. 

I am a creature of change. At the end of each season, I find myself craving the next one. I change my hair every few months. I don't like being in the same place for too long. 

But the last few weeks, I've resented my friend, Change. I've just wanted to ask Change if he can slow down for me. Just for a minute.

My five year high school reunion is coming up. As I was fitting it into my calendar last night, I started thinking about all the people I love who I've lost touch with, and that's in only five years. I hate change for that reason. I hate that change sometimes forces people apart . . . tears them in different directions. 

I hate seeing my little sisters grow up. 

I hate seeing my parents get older. 

I hate seeing my grandparents get older. 

I hate seeing my friends move away. 

I hate that I can't eat a whole sleeve of Oreos anymore and still feel fine with myself after. 

That is a lot of hate flowing around, but I know it's just a moment of mourning and then it will flee. Even though change can be hard, there is a certain beauty in seeing time pass. There is a certain beauty in seeing people move on, in seeing people age and mature . . . but on certain days it's just more difficult to accept that beauty. 

I like this stage of life that I am in, and I'm just fearful that Change will play a joke on me and make it all disappear. 

A few nights ago, I finished the book "The Fault In Our Stars" while laying in bed, and I guess everything I'd been feeling just came crashing down on my shoulders. I quickly turned out the light before Brian could see I was crying. Then I clung my arms around his torso, because I just needed to feel his presence there beside me. He turned and asked me if I was crying. I whimpered a quiet yes. 

"Why are you crying?" 

"My book was just so sad." 

A moment of silence passed. 

"I don't want people to die."

"Who is going to die," Brian asked. 

"Everyone. We are all going to die."

And even though that was a very morbid ending to our night, I do know there is also a certain beauty in death. It's part of the journey. But just because it's beautiful and essential doesn't mean that I'm still not afraid of it. 

Now I'll end this slightly pathetic post with a quote from "The Fault In Our Stars".

"What a slut time is. She screws everybody." 

 

Truth Tuesday

• I get way too invested in whatever book I'm currently reading. I read a book a few years ago called "The Beast in the Garden". It's a true story about how mountain lions started attacking people in a town in Colorado. I almost gave up my love for hiking. But I couldn't do that, so now I just make sure that we always carry a gun while exploring mountains. I recently finished "The Fault In Our Stars". Now I'm really paranoid that I'm going to have cancer . . . or that someone I love is going to get cancer. I need to take a chill pill. 

• I have a new obsession with purple lipstick. 

• I have a goal to sleep outside for a consecutive week this summer. 

• Every time I go trail running or just take Munch for a walk up the canyon, I see mountain bikers speeding past me and then I get really jealous because . . . I hate riding bikes . . . but I want myself to like it so badly. It always looks like a blast. But then anytime I get on a bike, it's just treacherous. I don't think my butt was built for sitting on those awfully uncomfortable bike seats.

• I secretly get happy anytime Justin Bieber's "Baby" comes on the radio. Shhhh, don't tell.

• This morning, I asked Brian if he ever gets sad that the 80s are over. He answered that since he didn't live for much of the 80s that no, he was okay with it, but he did get sad the 90s were over. I didn't ever live in the 80s (I was a 1990 baby) but I still miss them like I lived them. I mean, I have the perfect hair for the decade . . .   

Throwin' it back to the 80s dance my freshman year at USU. Big hair: check. Leopard pants: check. Shoulder pads: check.

Sunday Best: Fancy Pajamas

jacket: Forever 21, top: Violet Hill Boutique, pants: Bella Me, sandals: Target, necklace: Nordstrom

My husband did not approve of me buying these pants. I came out of the dressing room wearing a smile and the pants, and what did BWell say?

"They look kinda like fancy pajamas."

I don't see how that's a bad thing though. I wish I could wear fancy pajamas all the days.

Shout out to moms and women everywhere on this fine Mother's Day. I'm so grateful for the gals in my life who have been nurturers, supporters, givers of light, and positive influences. There are so many of you. I am especially grateful for my own mother, a lady who I'm happy to say has always been one of my very best friends. We as women have so much power to bring beauty and goodness into the world. I thank all women who have been living examples of that for me.

Best friends since 1990. Love you, Mom.