Category Archives: family

Book Review: Girl, Wash Your Face by Rachel Hollis

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Girl

I recently read Girl, Wash Your Face by Rachel Hollis per my sister’s recommendation.  Actually, it all started with the meme above.  I then found out that my sister loved the book.  Of course, it immediately moved to the top of my to be read pile.  I love the fact that I belong to a family that shares and recommends books!

Here are a few gems from the book and my thoughts. There are many more I could share here, but I will leave you to discover them yourself.  I highly recommend the Kindle version of the book as it allows the reader to highlight important passages without defacing a physical book.

Sometimes choosing to walk away, even if it means breaking your own heart, can be the greatest act of self-love you have access to. – Page 53.

This just seems to sum up the process I put myself through this summer.  The sad part is that I should have definitively learned this lesson years ago.  I wish everyone, women and men, knew this before heading off to college – or shortly thereafter.  It ultimately would have saved me so much time and heartache.

I knew I was letting my fear control me, that the worry about giving my heart away again only to have it stomped on kept me from taking a next step.  In the midst of such heartache, it’s hard not to worry.  I cried so many tears, thinking, Lord, why would you put this desire on my heart if it wasn’t ever going to come true?  And, God, if we try again, you’re not actually sending my heart out to be slaughtered, right? – Page 108.

Oh, have I been there!  More than once.  There are times when I still wonder how I will ever be able to trust again.  It is not easy to pick ourselves up and try again.  Yet, we must.

I want you to see someone who kept showing up again and again, even when it was tearing her apart.  I want you to see someone who kept walking in faith because she understood that God’s plan for her life was magnificent – even if it was never easy.  And even if it wasn’t easy, she was bold and courageous and honest even when the truth was hard to share. – Page 173

I admit, lately I have struggled to have faith that God does indeed have a plan for my life.  I am currently slogging through it all to figure out exactly what that plan is.  If I am meant to have a family of my own, why haven’t I been able to make it work yet?  Why is that the big unnegotiable of my life if, indeed, it is impossible?  I ask myself questions similar to this all the time.  Ultimately, it is not my timing, but God’s.  It will eventually work out.  Until then, I just need to be patient and keep working.  It will never be easy.

As you can see, I loved the book.  It is a great example of a book that came into my life at the exact time I needed to read it.  I happened to read it just as I was struggling with these questions.  While I would recommend the book to every young woman I know, it doesn’t mean I think the book is perfect.

If fact, in one sense, the book left me feeling unsettled.  It is a feeling I get whenever I get too involved in anything related to religion.  What no one seems to address in organized religion – and Rachel seems to unintentionally fall into this – is that not all women will end up married and become mothers.  Singles in the church, particularly those no longer in their twenties, seem to get left behind.  Whether explicit or implicit, the focus always seems to be on marriage and family.

While I think Rachel was right to spend much of her book focused on marriage and motherhood – after all, this book shares her life experiences – she doesn’t address what happens if you do end up alone.  She doesn’t even seem to acknowledge the possibility even though she goes out of the way to address situations not her own.  This may not be true, but it appears she assumes everyone will end up married and a mother.  A simple acknowledgement would have served the book well.  Then again, maybe I am reading way too much into this and too sensitive.  It doesn’t matter.  The book itself is great, and I highly recommend it.

By the way, I love how she addresses adoption in this book.  I am so glad I read this book before I started the adoption process.  Her family’s story related to foster care and adoption is not an easy one, but it does have a wonderful outcome.  In the end, that is all that matters.

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MSU and Memories

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Alumni Bricks

Dear D., Continued – Revisited

Dear D. – Revisited

I’ve struggled for nearly two months to write this post.  It is time.  Back in mid-June, I spent the afternoon in East Lansing with my friend Lauri.  While it was not our only intent, we sought the memorial brick my cousin Lugene’s family placed on campus in her memory.  If it weren’t for Lugene, Lauri and I probably would have never met.  Spending time with Lauri searching for Lugene’s memorial brick seemed fitting.  After all, as dedicated genealogists, Lauri and Lugene spent countless days researching in Michigan cemeteries.  Here we were searching for Lugene.

When we did finally locate her memorial brick, it completely caught me off-guard.  It is located near the gardens where I found myself on a first date with a guy I dated briefly while at MSU – a very fun first date.  I had completely forgotten.  While MSU is far too big for me to legitimately say that I have a memory in every part of campus, I certainly have my share.  They all seemed to come flooding back to the point where I couldn’t keep up.

What it comes down to is this:  I need to visit my alma mater more often.  I avoided MSU after my friend Derrick died back in 2009, and Lugene’s death made it even worse.  Lugene took pride in her MSU alum status, and it was a part of her personality.  As much fun as I had visiting, I also felt out of sorts.  I hope one day I will be able to visit without feeling such a sense of loss.

I’ve finally concluded that it isn’t just the loss of Derrick and Lugene that I was feeling that day.  I also mourned the loss of the college girl I once was.  While I wouldn’t quite say that I was fearless as a freshman, I came close.  I thought nothing of pursuing whatever my heart desired while at MSU.  What happened?  Maybe I can find her once again.

The links above lead to posts I wrote concerning Derrick.

Derrick and I – April 2000

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The girl I once was – 2002

What Remains

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Dad and Grandma Reid – Alaska 1988

It is no secret that I am a stubborn person.  For those that know my family, I clearly inherited that trait from my dad.  Frankly, I am proud of that fact – and it goes deeper into my family history.  My paternal grandmother, Grandma Reid, was every bit as stubborn as her son.  I have no idea if my dad’s father was stubborn or not – sadly, he passed away long before I could meet him – but I am certain Dad inherited at least some of his stubborn nature from his mother.

After my senior year of high school, I spent the summer working with Dad and Grandma at the canoe livery, just as I had all throughout high school.  That summer, however, continues to stand out.  I normally didn’t argue or disagree with Dad.  I had learned to trust his judgement and accepted that he had reasons for the way he did things over the years.  That summer, I bristled.  I no longer wanted Dad to tell me what to do, even if he was my boss.  I couldn’t get to Michigan State fast enough.  To complicate matters, Grandma wouldn’t budge, set in her ways over the decades.  She didn’t always agree with me or Dad.  In fact, Dad and I had to make her get out of the office and enjoy herself.  That is how much she loved to work.

By August, things came to a head.  The three of us were not listening to one another, and we all thought we were right.  All these years later, I couldn’t even tell you what our disagreements were about.  Really, all that mattered is we loved one another, even if we were getting on each other’s last nerve.  Of course, things vastly improved once summer came to an end and I set off for new adventures at MSU.

While I consider myself close to Mom and her family, our stubborn natures somehow brought Dad, Grandma, and I together.  For me, it goes beyond stubbornness.  It is a drive to succeed.  It is a drive to lead a full life no matter what is thrown our way.  It is survival.

The Rifle

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Stoddard’s Landing July 2017 – Busy Saturdays!     Photo Credit:  Garrett Russell

I admit it, I take the river for granted.  It is such an ingrained part of my life – and even who I am – it is easy to overlook its power, not to mention the role it continues to play in my life.  My parents own Russell Canoe Livery and Campgrounds and have since June 1977, a few months prior to their wedding.  They purchased the business from my paternal grandmother who continued the business after my grandfather passed away.  The canoe livery is as much of my family history as it is my personal history.  Without the river, it simply wouldn’t exist.

Some of my earliest and best childhood memories involve the canoe livery.  I spent countless hours swimming in the river, running around the campground, and generally spending my summers with my family as they worked.  I hope my niece and nephews – and eventually my own child(ren) – will grow up the same way.  Heck, not every kid can say that they have their own busing system!  As my childhood home is located behind our Crystal Creek Campground store, my sister and I could simply catch the bus to our main location in Omer after watching Saturday morning cartoons.  All we had to do was run down the hill at either 9:15 AM, 10:45 AM, or 12:15 PM, bathing suits in tow.  Later in the day, we would turn the buses into our private forts.

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Our main location in Omer – Trust us, walk the campsites first!

One of my earliest memories of the canoe livery is of my grandmother teaching me to play the card game war in our old walk-up store.  I also remember her teaching me how to find the big dipper in the night sky at around that same age.  As a teenager, I spent countless summer weekends working with Grandma Reid, Mom, and Dad.  Grandma taught me so much about business and customer service.  Dad taught me, and continues to teach me, what it means to own a business and the value of hard work.  Mom, of course, continues to keep it all running smoothly – now more than ever.

As for the river itself, it has provided our family with a wonderful quality of life for decades.  I think of countless river trips over the years.  One of my absolute favorites took place on August 1st last summer (also known as July 32nd if you are a teacher).  I spent four hours tubing with one of my best friends.  There may have been wine involved.  We spent four hours catching up and enjoying the perfect Michigan summer afternoon/early evening.  The weather was so perfect, we almost called my brother to pick us up downstream.  We wanted to do the hour and a half trip as well.

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My favorite part of Crystal Creek Campground – “Across the road, bottom of the hill.”

It is easy to forget the power of the river on a beautiful Michigan summer day.  The Rifle is spring fed and has a swift current (about 5 MPH) during the best of times, but it can become downright dangerous if the water is too high.  In fact, we won’t rent equipment if it is too high.  Add in ice and it becomes unbelievably destructive.  Fortunately, in the years my parents have owned the business, we have only experienced severe flooding and ice damage a handful of times.  In 1984, my parents’ mobile home was flooded shortly before we were to move into our new house.  In 1991, we had 4 ft. of water in our store in Omer and ice damage at Crystal Creek.  Due to ice jamming up at Pinnacle Bridge, which cuts right through Crystal Creek, we have experienced ice damage to trees and outhouses at Crystal Creek a few times as well.  Nothing could have prepared us for this year.

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The “back yard” of my childhood home: Crystal Creek Campground.

In late February of this year, those along the Rifle River experienced flooding not seen since the 1950s due to ice buildup.  Sadly, some people living in Pinnacle Park, which is located just up river from our Crystal Creek Campground, lost their homes.  Our Crystal Creek Campground continues to look as though it was hit by a tornado.  Dad and my brother Garrett are just now beginning to clean up.  It is awful.  Once it is finished, I will share pictures.  The electrical system in that part of the campground will need to be replaced.  On a lighter note, my parents’ home, the Crystal Creek store and shower house, and other out buildings are located on much higher ground and not affected.

Fortunately, our main location faired better.  However, it did not remain unscathed.  Our store in Omer took on two feet of water and mud, as did our pole barns.  Luckily, our electrical system held.  Overall, we were lucky.  Other canoe liveries in the area experienced damage to vehicles, cabins, and more.  Some even lost canoes and kayaks down river.  Throughout this process, we have learned a few things and will be changing some processes when it comes time to close this fall.

My brother and I may never experience anything like this during our tenure as owners, but we will be better prepared.  For so many varied reasons – many of which I can’t get into here – none of us will ever forget 2018.  Here’s to a great summer and a beautiful (even if late) spring!  I am looking forward to being back at my summer office.

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Regrets

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This post is not about politics.  Instead, it is about what is important in life.  In the wake of Barbara Bush’s death, I keep coming across this quote.  It sticks with me, and I can’t help but realize this is how I have tried to live my life thus far.  I hope one day it will pay off.

This quote is the reason why I moved back to Michigan after falling in love with Austin, Texas and even beginning my career in Houston.  It is why I moved back to Omer, Michigan to help take care of my grandmother.  It is also the reason why I can’t imagine living far from family, even if it would greatly benefit my career (and social life) to do so.

That is only the beginning.  This quote also contains the reason why a ten-year relationship dissolved.  It helps to explain decades of worry regarding how I will ever create a family of my own, as well as my struggle to do just that.  In short, it is why I get up every morning.  It is my why.  If someone ever wanted to understand the craziness that is my life at times, all he or she would have to do is think of the implications of this quote.  I choose to try and avoid such regrets.  I still have them, but I imagine not quite so many as others.

When I think of the elder Bushes, I think of their marriage of 73 years.  Frankly, I can’t imagine being that in love.  Unfortunately, I have no frame of reference.  I also can’t imagine facing that large of a loss in life.  It saddens me.  My maternal grandparents were married 56 years.  At this point, my parents have already been married 40 years.  At 37, I am beginning to wonder if I will ever meet the right man.  If I don’t, I won’t be the only one missing out.

On a lighter note …

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Dreams

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I don’t talk about my mom nearly enough.  If you would have asked me five years ago if we were close, I would have told you no, we aren’t particularly close.  I’m not exactly sure when that changed, but it did change, for the better.  As an undergrad at Michigan State University, I used to marvel at the girls who called their moms every day.  It confused me.  On one hand, I wanted that type of relationship with my mom; on the other, I loved my independence too much.  However, if I didn’t call every Sunday, I would be tracked down.

Now that I am older, I am grateful for that independence, although I can’t imagine it today.  I do talk to my mom almost every day now.  My parents were more concerned when I was commuting and taking classes at Saginaw Valley State University (SVSU) a few years ago than they ever were during my years at Michigan State.  I find it funny and fascinating.  I think I understand it though.  My parents still had my sister and brother at home.  They were still dealing with sports activities and whatever trouble my brother decided to get into that particular week.  Still, I would never go as far as to say that I had a difficult relationship with my parents, even when we didn’t talk all that often.  They just let me get on with having fun in college – and I did.

As a teenager, it was common for my dad, brother, and sister to watch TV together in the living room.  My mom and I would watch something else in my parents’ bedroom.  I would lounge on my parents’ bed while mom would get her clothes ready for the next day, etc.  One of our favorites happened to be Ally McBeal.  At times, we would have some great conversations too.

During one weekend home during my sophomore year at MSU, such a scenario took place when I needed my mom’s advice most.  At the time, I felt as though I had to choose between semester long Spanish programs in Spain or Ecuador.  How was I supposed to choose between the two?  I didn’t want to have to make that decision.  I wanted to do both.  I asked my mom what she thought.  All she asked is that I be home for Christmas.  It worked.  I found a way to make it work without delaying graduation.  I never forgot my parents’ support of that decision.  I also learned to be flexible and find a way to do what I wanted to do – on my terms.

Shortly before my mom retired in 2010, I learned she dreamed of writing children’s books in retirement.  Considering her career as an elementary school teacher, it isn’t surprising.  What surprised me most is:  1.  I never knew that my mom wanted to write at all.  I thought it was my dream alone, and one I didn’t share with many people at the time.  2.  I didn’t learn this from my mom, I learned it through a mutual friend.  Shocked, surprised, and happy, we began working on her children’s books together.  She wanted my input and help polishing them.

Here’s the problem:  I am way too close to my mom’s books.  I love them.  I know exactly where she is going with them, and I love the fact her books are based on part of a writing curriculum she used in her kindergarten classroom.  We both need to get writing again and finish getting those books ready to submit.  Every time we work on them, I fall in love with her books all over again.

I love the process that we have working together.  It is fun working with her and bouncing ideas off one another.  We can usually come to some sort of agreement or even come to the same conclusions.  I hope we can eventually get to the point where we are comfortable submitting them for publication.  It is time.

The funny thing is that I can just hear my mom reading her books to groups of kids.  As a child, there was nothing better than her versions of Sesame Street books.  She is great at making all of the different voices necessary to make a children’s book come alive.  Grover and the Count are still favorites with her grandchildren.  I can’t wait to hear her reading her own books in front of a crowd eager for more.

To Love Again

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Grandma and me – Michigan State University – 2001

Somewhere along the line, I lost my love of life.  When I think back to the young woman I was during my years at Michigan State, I can’t help but wonder what happened.  I was always planning a new adventure, whether another study abroad program, participating in Alternative Spring Break, or internship/co-op opportunities, not to mention various part-time positions (paid and unpaid) I held while on campus, among many other experiences.  No, I am not that young anymore, but that doesn’t mean I can’t go after what I want out of life.

 

Unfortunately, over the last decade or so, I began to doubt myself and question everything.  It no longer matters how or why, what matters now is that I get back to pursuing what I love.  Now, I must figure out precisely what that looks like.  There is so much work to do.

A couple of weeks ago, my aunt, my mom, and I went through several drawers of my grandmother’s memorabilia – family photographs, cards, letters, newspaper clippings, and more.  One thing stood out above everything else:  Grandma lived her life to the fullest, even in the face of tragedy.  How I wish I could talk to her now.  Today is the first anniversary of her death.  Tomorrow would mark her 93rd birthday.  There is so much I wish I could ask her.

When I think of all the legacies left behind, it is her love of life that stays with me the most.  She did exactly what she wanted to do and how she wanted to do it.  My dad, her youngest son, did the same.  Both passed that on to me.  I am just as stubborn as well.  Now to figure out what’s next.  I am far from where I was five years ago, but I am not yet where I need to be.

A Fresh Start

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No matter how many times I start over again, it never gets old.  I love feeling as though this time I may get it right.  This time, there are many loose ends I need to complete.  When I think about all I have experienced over the last five years, this isn’t surprising.  First, I moved in with my grandmother in November 2012 to help take care of her.  Nearing 88 years old at the time, she needed company and no longer wished to drive.  Unfortunately, she became incredibly sick that winter and ended up needing nursing home care.

A year later, I decided to go back to school to earn my teaching degree.  I started substitute teaching and taking classes.  In April 2014, my other grandmother passed away.  Even though I didn’t see her daily, I was close to her too.  Shortly thereafter, my relationship with my boyfriend of 10 years dissolved in the worst way possible.  In May it will be nearly four years, and it still hurts at times, even if I have no regrets about the outcome.

As I finished my classes and student teaching, my surviving grandmother became less active and generally sicker.  She passed away just shy of her 92nd birthday.  On Sunday, it will mark one year since she passed away.  There are several other details I could include here, but I had to see for myself, in writing, some of the major events that have marked these last several years.

I am still going through my grandmother’s things and mine as well.  I am still coming to terms with no longer being a student.  When I returned to the classroom after almost exactly 10 years since I graduated from Michigan State University, I realized how much I missed it.  Before I move ahead, it is necessary to appreciate where I have been.

It is now time for me to figure out what I want out of life.  There are some non-negotiables.  I will be a part of the canoe livery, I will have a teaching career, and I will eventually adopt.  It is the personal details that I need to work out, and I have no idea where to begin.  It is so tempting to compare myself to others and feel as though I should have accomplished more at this point in my life.  I just have to remind myself that it is my life and no one else’s.

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There Are No Words

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This fall, a certain set of circumstances made me begin to doubt myself in a way I never knew was possible.  As I have stated so many times here, the very first thing I ever remember wanting out of life is a family of my own.  For me, that means adoption.  I have questioned whether I will be able to do it on my own for quite some time, but this fall was different.  It was personal in a way I never imagined, and I began to doubt whether I truly want to be a mother at all.

It became a slippery slope, and I began to question everything in my life.  What do I really want?  I shouldn’t still be asking these questions at 36 (now 37).  I have failed so many times on so many levels that I began to wonder what is so fundamentally wrong with me.  After a while, I let go of certain dreams.  I would love to meet the right man, get married, and adopt.  After all this time, I am beginning to doubt that it will ever happen.

Over these last few trying weeks, I realized that I can’t give up on my dream of having a family.  I am supposed to be a mother.  Giving up on that dream, even briefly, left me absolutely devastated.  I will eventually be exactly where I need to be.  Until then, I will keep trying.  That is all I can do at this point.

Even as I write this, I wonder why I am sharing something so intensely personal.  As always, it comes down to this:  I know that I am not the only one struggling with these decisions.  If someone else can benefit by realizing that he or she is not alone, it will be more than worth it.

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New Year, Old Question

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Think for YourselfHere goes nothing. The new school year is upon us. In late June, I accepted a position teaching Spanish and world history at an alternative high school. At this point, as I have completed several professional development sessions and prepared my classroom with my colleagues, I can safely say that I feel right at home. I am eager to meet my students on Tuesday and Wednesday next week.

This upcoming school year is the culmination of several years of taking dozens classes at both the local community college and university, seemingly endless testing, and hundreds of hours in countless classrooms both as a student teacher and a substitute teacher. I am as ready as I will ever be. While it would be a flat out lie to say that I am not nervous, I can safely say that I prepared. Better yet, I am excited.

Over the last five years, I found my way out of depression and an awful relationship. I didn’t focus on anything other than completing my education and training to become a teacher. I am now well on my way to becoming “me” again. The questions I face now are as personal as it gets. I am now where I want to be with my career. I just need to stay on my current path. The same cannot be said for my personal life. Frankly, I am unsure of what I want anymore. It is true that I want more than anything to be a mom. That is non-negotiable. I will adopt. Beyond that, I do not know.

The details get me. I find myself wondering if I truly want to do this alone. I know I can do this on my own, but when I am completely honest, I do not want to raise a child alone. It doesn’t mean that I won’t or can’t do it alone. I know I can, and I will. At the same time, I want a man in my life that I can count on. I want someone to share all of this with day in, day out – an actual partner. For several reasons, many of which are way too personal to share here, I don’t see it happening. My instinct is to be as happy as possible alone, focusing on what I want and starting a family alone. I am afraid of shutting the right man out. It feels as though I am caught between doing nothing and risking utter humiliation. Again.

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