A Little Insight

For those of you who don't know me well, this post will explain a little more about me. A little insight into the struggles and hardships, but also the successes I've gained along the way. These might explain why I currently struggle with things and will help anyone understand my life a little better. It's hard to exclude the good things that occur in one's life because often they come out of something bad. Everyone experiences a painful period in their life. I doubt one person could deny that fact. At the end of the tunnel, something good arose. Something that you might not have ever considered possible. It also might not have been possible, had you never suffered in the first place. Everything is connected. Everything happens for a reason.

Sidenote: This blog will be really long. So if you've known me for a long time, you don't have to force yourself to read it ;)

The first 14 years of my life were great. My family was awesome and I had some of what I'd consider decent friends. Living outside city limits with a very small amount of kids my age, limited the ability to hang out with a lot of children. It worked out though. I ran outside like a crazy child and didn't stay locked up in my house playing video games like children in today's society do. It was fun. There is one relationship that stands out the most during these early years, and for those of you who've known me since I was 14 will know and understand why. I was a daddy's girl. 100%.

Me and my father had a relationship that surpassed all others. Every Friday night was Pizza Night in my house. Dad came home, bringing pizza. Papa Johns was the preferable choice but the occasional Dominoes or Linney's (a local restaurant) pizza would find it's way on my plate. My family would gather around the table, eating our delectable pizza and enjoy each others company. When dinner finished, the real fun for me began. Dad and I would go hang out. Typically we went bowling, just the 2 of us. Every once in a while, we'd invite Erin (my best friend at the time) and her dad to join. I loved those nights.

Looking back now, I know I wasn't always jumping up and down to go bowling but I always ended up doing something with him. If it was warm, we'd go out to Starway Family Fun Park, a little rinky dink place that had go karts and putt putt. I've always loved a good game of putt putt and I blame my dad for that. Even when we went on vacations together, we tried to putt putt every night if we could find enough places to do it. The truth is, I enjoyed hanging out with my dad. We loved going out to eat at restaurants together, especially Linney's and the Pub. Everyone at both places knew my name and what I liked. Usually I didn't even have to order, they'd just bring it to me. My dad was well respected in our community and well known. This allowed me to walk into regular stores and have people know my name and face. Often times they'd give me small, free stuff. To a kid, that was always the best part of going into stores.

In return for my constant companionship, I was deemed daddy's favorite. Now, I understand that parents are not supposed to claim a favorite if there are more than one present. No parent can deny that there is one child they tend to relate with more, or just find they can talk to each other easier. There is no harm in that, but I would highly disagree with anyone shouting they had a favorite kid. My father, however, did not always adhere to these rules. While we did not walk through Walmart and he would make an announcement over the PA that I was his favorite, but it was no secret. I was his little girl and he loved to be with me. Normally I would never assume I was someone's favorite, because I've been wrong once or twice in my life ;), but multiple people have come up to me and told me how much he talked about me. How he would make comments that I was his favorite, or they would make the assumption themselves. Regardless, my father and I were connected in a way my brother and dad were not. It worked out okay though, because my brother and my mom tended to be more connected than I was with my mom. It might have been a strange system, but it worked for us.

Summer of 2003, July 4th.
My life collapsed.

My dad bought a motorcycle the day before. Was he going through a midlife crisis? I'm not sure. He never struck me as the motorcycle kind of guy, but I guess I was wrong. There are many things about that day that I remember most, and I can replay it like a movie in my head. Anger singed my veins. Dad was ignoring me, to play with his stupid new toy. I was trying out for soccer that year for high school and I wanted to practice with him in the backyard. It was common for us to play sports with each other, so what made that day so different? He was busy showing off his new bike to the neighbors. So I sat on the side of the driveway, soccer ball in my lap, pissed. And then he drove away.

Sometime later that afternoon, we were visited by some good family friends, the Bakers (Milly-the mom, Thomas - brandon's friend, and Kehla - my friend). Except this time they weren't so happy when they showed up at our house. They were crying, with solemn expressions. I remember being really confused when I opened the door to see their faces. The first thing the came into my mind was Tom. Had he died? What happened to him? I had no idea what was going on. It didn't occur to me that they wouldn't show up on MY front porch to tell us something had happened to THEM. All I could do was think about something awful happening to Tom. I reached up and hugged my friend, Kehla. Then I heard Mom start screaming and stomping in the background. "No, No NO!"

Confusion swept across my mind. Why was mom freaking out? And then I heard it. Nothing had happened to Tom. It was my dad.

He was dead.

It's easy to say that life from that point on has been difficult to say the least. My friends didn't understand and didn't know how to be there for me. I was a basket case. I cried and yelled all the time. No one was there for me. No one wanted to talk to me. No one knew how to be my friend. For that, I was punished through high school socially, and almost committed suicide. But I didn't, obviously. I can understand though. Why would someone want to always have a crazy girl around? She cries every 2 seconds over nothing, and is overly dramatic. Gets pissed off about nothing. No one wanted to deal with that. I watched as my little group of friends went on trips together, asked each other to dances, etc and I was not ever invited to one. For that, I considered myself a floater. I hung out with a variety of people, never truly identifying with anyone.

I did have a base to come back to though. After my dad died, I left the Catholic church and found refuge in Capital City. The youth group, and specially the youth minister: Mike, became my safe haven. In that, I found my base of friends. The group evolved during high school, and I can still say I never found my best friend in that experience. I still felt very excluded and so I never went on spring breaks with any of my friends, or did I go to many dances for that reason. There was nothing I could do about it.

People forgot and stopped recognizing that my dad had died by the time I had graduated. Then I decided to make a new life for myself. I went to Western, where none of my core group of friends went. They all stuck together and basically went to UK, for the most part. Life changed. I found new friends, and finally knew what having a best friend meant. I absolutely loved college and was making a name for myself and could start fresh. I was no longer the girl who freaked out over everything. People actually called me to hang out and wanted to do things with me. It was refreshing.

God provided an opportunity to fall in love. Twice. Okay, so i know you are currently thinking of boys, but that was far from the truth. I finally acknowledged two huge passions I had: sign language and traveling. I started taking sign language with my best friend at Western (it happened by chance). We practiced all the time and grew to love it. I would be walking to and from class, fingerspelling anything I could think of. My skills grew. We excelled.

I also was presented with the opportunity to study abroad in England. It was the best 4 months of my life. I got to travel to various countries and make amazing new friends. I honestly could not have imagined a better time in my life at all. I grew more independent. From that, I learned I had a huge love of traveling. I don't like sitting at home for months and months, or years, without going to some place new or exotic. While I was in England, I was presented with information on an American Sign Language interpreting program that was at EKU. Once I heard about it, I knew I was going to transfer. Sign language was amazing and I wanted my life to revolve around it.

Transferring to a new school where I know NO ONE was terrifying. I was having to leave the first set of true friends I'd ever had, and that made me nervous. But God was pulling me towards Sign language. He knew where I needed to be even if it scared me. God is not without his surprises though. He provided the best person for me. Kristi Hamm :) I was able to meet her over the summer and we became fast friends. I'd never made a best friend so quick in my life. We clicked and connected over our love for sign language and the Deaf community. So, I not only had a friend going into EKU (and for the exact same program as me) but I had my absolute Best friend. God provided again by my acceptance into the program, therefore making my transfer to EKU not a waste.

Life has improved since my dad died. I can honestly say that if my dad hadn't died, my life would be drastically different. I probably would have never gone to Western, England, transferred to Eastern, met Kristi, or known anything about sign language. I wanted to be a CPA like him, and I probably would have just followed in his footsteps. So despite the fact that I would love to have my dad here with me, something good happened through his death. I can relate to people who have lost a parent at an early age. I understand life is short and won't work out the way you expect. I do what I can, when I can, because who knows if I'll have a second chance. I do what I love.

Which leads me to my current dilemma. I have the opportunity to go to England again for my internship next year. Those of you who know me, know how much I love England and Europe in general. If I went, I'd have to go by myself because I don't think my friend will be able to come with me. It will be approximately $6000. I won't get to graduate on time. I can walk with all my friends in May, but I'd have to finish my internship over the summer, and get my diploma in August. Even with all the negatives of going to a foreign country alone, and having to pay a lot, and not graduating on time.... I think I'm going to do it. Who knows when I'll have the chance to see England again? I'm young, and not tied down to anything here, so why not? God has a plan for me, and I need to learn how to trust him even though it scares me to death.

Proverbs 3:5 Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean no on your own understanding. in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight.


So here is a long blog... that gives you some information about my life.
If you read all of it, kudos to you for being brave enough to sit through this small book of my life :)

i will continue to make posts, hopefully daily, of my devotions with God and seeking guidance from my peers. I won't post them to facebook everyday, but if you are interested, whenever they are posted to facebook, you can scroll through the other ones if you'd like.

I really appreciate the love and support I get from everyone. I love you :)