Guess who's back... back again... Didder's back... tell no one.

You ever spent your whole life believing you descended from white trash and then get confirmation that really you just descended from disgusting people? Humbling, honestly. Got the confirmation, it's noted, and moving forward will be adjusted accordingly.

Moving on... we officially have walls, y'all! Building our forever home has certainly been a process... and while we still have a LONG way to go, the fact that it's coming together and taking shape is a beautiful experience. Watching my hubby build us a house with his two bare hands? Hot bonus.

And I do mean hot... because you know... it's Florida outside, dude. 

We'll be looking at ceiling materials, bathroom capabilities, and carports soon enough. Oh... and your girl needs a bed. So put that on the list. Actually, the list is long, so I'll keep track... kind of.

I found out yesterday that I'll be going to our home office next month for some training in our new systems. I'll be in office (with most of my team members!) for a week and we're hoping to get this integration streamlined. I mostly work remote but this time around... training needs to be on hand. Big changes are a coming!

Other than that... life has been peaceful and full. I try not to let the negativity of others' lives interfere with mine, but I'd be lying if I said that sometimes reflection hurts. Not even reflection of yourself... reflection of the situations and circumstances people feel justified bringing into your life. 

But we're done with that... I promised myself that once we moved South, I would no longer let the actions of people who were supposed to care and chose to hurt or mislead instead have any bearing on our new life. It's hard but I meant it and I'm getting there one painful step at a time.

Clarity is both refreshing and devastating.

With that being said, if you need us? We'll be over here living the best version of our lives possible and filling our cups with love and respect and decency and understanding and all the good things life has to offer. If you don't have any of that to bring to the table? 

Stay the fuck in your own dining room.

Through dark and dust (and bullshit) here we are. 😶

Remember when I said we had one more trip to FL before our final because I had a meeting in March? 

HA! HAHHHHHAHAAAHhahahaha..... hahahahahahhahaha...... HA!!

One more trip, my ass. We never made it to my meeting in March. Oh, we tried... of course we tried. But the universe wasn't having it and decided to throw us a curveball. And by curveball, I mean... shit got real awful real quick and bitches were about to have a nervous breakdown. 

It's me... and my husband... we were those bitches.

Let's back up a bit. We've been preparing and trying to get things situated so we could make our big move to FL. It's been a... process. While we had planned on being out no later than early February (again- HA!) things kept happening that set us back and it was like with every one step forward there were three back. EXHAUSTING isn't even a strong enough word for it. 

But we figured, go with the flow and do our best. And our best consisted of one more meeting trip before the move. Were we happy about making the trip and then having to turn around and do it again a few weeks later? No. But were we willing to do said task? Absolutely.

And that got us stuck on the side of the Louisville bridge in the middle of the night in rush hour traffic. Yeah, you read that right. There we were, the Friday before my meeting (with every intention of reporting bright and early Monday morning) broke down over two hours from home with our babies in the car. And that's where the nightmare started.

Our Bronco completely died... like we were in the fastlane and all the sudden my husband looked me deadass in the face and said, "our car just lost full power." Not what you want to hear at any point, let alone in that situation. He managed to get us across the three lanes of traffic and to the shoulder, but we were still at the top of the bridge. Was I helpful? NOPE. Why? Because your girl has a thing about bridges and every horrible thought, I could have possibly had happened. I blame all the Final Destination movies of my youth, but I digress. 

It should've just been inconvenient, not life altering. Afterall, we have full warranties and roadside assistance. Guess what? Didn't help AT ALL. Not only did Ford Roadside Assistance leave us high and dry in the middle of the night on the side of the highway but when my husband managed to get our car to a hotel and then to a willing dealership it still was horrible. 

I called multiple people to come pick us up (we were over two hours from home) and was met with variations of "sorry, busy, I have plans" or they didn't even bother to answer. Finally, I got ahold of my brother, and he agreed to come pick us up if we gave him gas money. Fair, it's a rough economy. But then, we had to leave our car at that Ford dealership in Sellersburg for a week for repairs and they did... nothing. Like, absolutely 100% nothing. They cleared the code on the car and then parked it for a week after assuring us Ford would handle it. They didn't. 

We had to go get the car the next weekend and drive it the two hours back dying and revolting the entire time (dangerous, much?) and take it to the dealership where we bought it. They got us in and got us a loaner vehicle (something no other dealership we talked to or the Ford "case manager" helped with) and they had it for a week to do all the repairs it required.

Apparently, it had a recall for the battery (that we never got notice of), needed an update (again, something we weren't notified about), and the fuel pump had to be replaced. Three incredibly important things that needed handled before a catastrophe that we were left in the dark about. Don't get me wrong... cars will be cars. I know that and accept that and understand that a car can have an issue after fifteen miles. I get it. HOWEVER, vehicles are NOT cheap and when you pay the fees to have the service and warranties and you are not only NOT made aware of issues but then you're left stranded on the side of the road with your entire family in the middle of the night in a $50k car that has 26k miles on it after doing EVERYTHING right, you tend to get a little pissy. At least, I f*cking did. 

I love my car... but at this point I'd damn near get rid of it just so I never have to deal with Ford customer service EVER again. The Ford "Case Manager" I had was assigned to me and called on Wednesday (remind you, this happened on the previous Friday) to tell me she was off Thursday, didn't return my call on Friday and couldn't help me come Saturday. She did absolutely nothing helpful or offered good advice and we were not helped until we got it to our dealership and they handled it all. Needless to say, case mangers? A F*cking joke.

Thankfully, we got Trudy back. And she seems to be in good spirits (thanks you mechanic Nick!).

But... that whole situation definitely broke us in spirit. It was disheartening to find out where I stand to everyone close around me. My SIL/BIL were already figuring out what to do with the kids and loading up because they were not about to leave us on the side of the road. They were going to make the nine-hour trip... but some people I called couldn't even be bothered to make the one-and-a-half-hour trip. Really lets you know where you stand with who... that's all I'm saying.  

At that point, we were broken and sad and just f*cking over it. So... I decided to liquidate some shit, we got rid of a bunch more shit (my brother and the scrappers in our alley have made out like bandits), and we scheduled to have movers take our shit.

Why? Because we want out and there's literally NOTHING keeping us here anymore. It's hard to sell a house when I work remote (ie: always home) and you have two pups, so we're clearing out and it's going on the market next Monday. They dropped off our containers last Friday, we packed them up this last weekend, and they'll be picked up this Thursday. We'll be sticking around so I can work on Friday (I took off Monday) and then we're heading out to our new life come that evening.

And we CANNOT f*cking wait. Since I get to stay a remote employee, it opened up some possibilities and we're going to the little town we originally wanted. We'll be staying with Dev's dad until our house is built/ready and then life will be lifing. We're all so damn excited we can't wait. 

We're ready for this life change and are ready to leave all the negative behind. This experience/transition has been eye opening and devastating and exciting and all the things... and it's time. It's time for Katie, Dev and their pups to be South. 

Keep your fingers crossed for us... we're hoping for the best and forcing our way through. This time next week... hopefully I'll be knee-deep in house plans surrounded by peace and quiet... and hopefully some barbeque. And for the love of all that's holy, pray this house sells quickly so we can just be DONE with Indiana altogether.

There so much more I want to talk about... I'm hoping the next update has all sunshine and roses to share. (Work is going really good- but that's for another time). But like I said, this is where we are now. Still playing the waiting game... but with a deadline in our sights. And it can't come soon enough.

We're in the process of: get us the f*ck outta here.😵‍💫😮‍💨🥴

Have you ever been... done? Like, I don't like it... I can't take it... I don't want it... done? Happened to us. And why did it happen to us? You can thank this city and all it encompasses. 

Where to start? More shootings and violence down the street from us than you can shake a stick at. It's ridiculous and overwhelming. Do you know how disheartening it is to turn on the radio and constantly hear your neighborhood on the news? And yeah, I know there's violence and horrible shit no matter where you go... but the fact there are almost a million people in this city and people don't give a shit to open their crazy in the streets with innocent bystanders... well... here we are. And I want to get the f*ck OUT. I just picture the life I have... the life I want... and they are very different.

The life I want doesn't include nasty people, or terrible situations, or overwhelming amounts of stress. The life I currently have... does. And I want peace and calm and stability. I want to be able to be my weird self and those around me just love me for me... no other reason or rhyme, no manipulations, no guilt, no judgment, just because I'm me and they love me.

So... I went to my boss. And I laid it all out. Told her about the stress and nastiness of our surroundings being overwhelming. I want out of this city and situation. But... I love my job, so it was the last man standing between me and this decision. I don't want to leave my job... I've built it for going on fourteen years and it's a piece of me. Something I take pride in. Something I have complete faith and confidence in doing. I asked to transition to a remote position. And I asked this with the understanding that it wasn't guaranteed, but with the thought that I was willing to give/take and do so much to make it work, that it could be a very real possibility. I know everyone in a company is expendable. I have no illusions that I run the show (I'm very aware I don't), but I have always done whatever is asked of me and I have exceeded every single expectation that they have ever presented to me. I've helped pull the company back from the brink multiple times. Not on my own, but as a dedicated member of the team. Put policies and procedures in place to ensure the company could move forward and streamlined as much as possible. Again, not on my own... but as a dedicated member of the team. They've quite literally never presented me with an issue where I didn't look at it and say, well, we gotta do what we gotta do and then we got it done.

But... the answer was no. I couldn't really tell you the reasoning why other than it's "not feasible" and comes down to "financial" at the end of the day. I was asked though... could I train this other girl in the office to do my job and then work for my company until I'm settled once I move and then I can figure out my next steps? I mean, sure? I guess I'll just do my job until you decide you don't need me anymore and then call it a day? Thanks for not just kicking me to the curb immediately I reckon.

Fourteen years. Damn near a decade and a half. And here we are. 
Guess they really didn't like the green hair.

Anyways... our will to get the f*ck out of Indy hasn't changed. We're doing it differently than what we imagined and I'm certainly more terrified of this change than I've ever been, but I'm also excited and ready to get the f*ck out of here. I'm ready to have peaceful mornings and be in the country and live a small and quiet life with my husband and our babies. 

Should've cut bait when I lost my Momma. Really should've cut bait when we got tackled by a guy with a knife on our motorcycle going over 40 mph. Should've cut bait when my brother did whatever it is he does. I'm learning I should've done this a long f*cking time ago.

I think people are forgetting the fact it takes very little to make us happy and I don't actually have the need to have a "career." Bro, I love it and I'm proud of it... but... I'll be ok with just a job too. Doesn't have to be a career. We can literally just work to live, not live to work. And Walmart seems to be hiring night shift.

We don't need alot... and we'll figure out the rest. The most important part? It's that we have each other, we're in this together, and one way or the other, we will figure it out. Starting with getting ready to sell this house and bounce.

So... watch out, Florida. Because within the next year (if we can manage to pull this shit off), the Glissons are coming back. And this time, we're coming home to stay. (Not counting the fact we'll see you next week for Thanksgiving).

“You own everything that happened to you. Tell your stories. If people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should have behaved better.” -Anne Lamott

💙My Uncle Wayne was a great man and I will truly miss him.💙💙

My Uncle Wayne was a good man... a fair man. Really... kind of a legend. Seriously, ask anyone that knew him well. He hasn't been in our industry for going on thirty years and we still have people ask about him to this day. That's how amazing and completely memorable he was. He was one of those men that even when you know death comes for everyone eventually, you kind of thought he might avoid it. At least, I kind of did. 

He always seemed so much bigger in life than what I could ever imagine. I've been blessed enough throughout my life that I got to spend time with him... from a child whose uncle made her dreams come true by showing up Christmas Eve with a Barbie dreamhouse... to a preteen who ate fried fish with sunburnt cheeks... to a teenager making his drinks and serving his supper... to an adult when I got to take my husband to his house and just visit and be. There are so many things I want to say and so many feelings I feel... but I don't know how to get them all out at once. Like with most things, I would think this is something I deal with bit by bit. Piece by piece. And manic cleaning and decluttering one step after the other.

I'm going to miss Uncle Wayne. In so many ways. I'm going to miss our random phone calls and how no matter what, he always had some advice and what felt like, my back. I truly hope he's now at peace and the people who were there at the end for their own selfishness, reap what they sow. I hope he can rest easy knowing he's reunited in spirit with Aunt Linda and the girls. And honestly? I hope he's proud of what he left behind. A life well lived and a legacy to rival that of anyone you come across. And maybe, just maybe, a little of me too. Because he was the kind of man you wanted to make proud. And I hope I do.

Harold Wayne Fullen, 79, of Astor Florida passed away on May 20, 2025. He was a loving son, husband, brother and friend. If help was needed, Wayne was there to offer a hand and an encouraging word.

Wayne was born in Clinchco, Virginia on November 29, 1945, to Charlie and Rebecca “Lucile” Fullen. The Fullens then relocated to Indianapolis, Indiana during Wayne’s childhood.

At the young age of 17 in 1962, Wayne joined the United States Marine Corps. He remained on active duty until August of 1965 as an MP whereupon he returned to Indianapolis to his family and friends.

On March 12, 1966, Wayne was married to Linda Lou (Blankenship) Fullen in Indianapolis, Indiana. They remained in Indiana until 2014 when they relocated to Astor, Florida. Wayne and Linda had 2 dogs, Leelee and Tina, who were their 4-legged children. Leelee and Tina were very well-loved. Wayne and Linda remained happily married until Linda’s passing in June of 2019.

Wayne was a member of the Scottish Rite, Northern Masonic Jurisdiction, 32° Freemasons and the Murat Shriners since 1974.

Wayne was a founding member of Superior Carpet Installers, Inc. in 1966 and later became owner and president of the company. Wayne will be remembered by many in the flooring industry for his hard work, grit and determination as well as his savvy business sense. He remained in control of the company until 1996 when he sold the company to the employees by creating an ESOP. Wayne then retired in 1998 after 32 years of owning and operating Superior Carpet Installers, Inc.

Wayne was an avid bass fisherman for many, many years. When relocating to Astor, Florida, Wayne and Linda lived on the St. John’s River where Wayne enjoyed fishing and boating for leisure. He is well known to all for this fishing – catching the fish and also hosting frequent fish fries to share his bounty with family and friends alike.

Wayne is preceded in death by his wife, his parents, brother Mitchell “Mickey” Fullen, brother James Fullen, brother Bobby Fullen, sister Patricia “Patty” Fullen and sister Peggy Austin. He leaves behind brother Russell “Rusty” Fullen, many nieces and nephews as well as many more great nieces and great nephews.

Wayne has requested that no service be held. In lieu of flowers, please consider donating to the Murat Shriners at https://www.muratshriners.com/jacoby.

Life for the Glisson clan as a four person crew.

Things without the Xur-Xur are hard. It's sad and frustrating and waking up looking for your comfort pup only to discover all over again that he isn't there to snuggle you is devastating. 

When I lost Tayder, a piece of me went with him. But... I got to spend so many good years with him that every single one felt like a little extra. While Dev already had Xur when we got together, he was only a year old... still a pup... and I got to be his mama for the next six years. Six years... our baby was only seven. Just doesn't seem fair.

I brought our boy home with me today. And while we're still incredibly sad, it did true-up a piece of us that was missing. I don't know what it is, but having him home in one way or another was helpful.

We're trying. And we'll be ok... it's just hard. It's all those little moments and times that you miss when you can't have them anymore. I miss my early morning coffee buddy. Just huffing and puffing but otherwise quiet, content to just following me around and staying close... maybe getting a few kisses and some neck scratches.

So yeah, we still miss him and we're still sad... Sparkles misses his brother something fierce... Steve looked everywhere... and me and Dev are trying. Our family looks different, but we're still our family. We just carry a few we love in a different way now.

It feels hollow and cold... there's just a massive piece missing.💔

The last four days have been... debilitating. I can think of no other word that encompasses the feeling of this. It's sad and I feel cold... down to my bones and throughout my entire body. There's a hollow feeling in my chest and three out of four times when I open my mouth to speak... tears.

We had to say goodbye to our baby, Xur-Xur. 

My big, strong, cuddly grizzly bear got too sick too fast and there was nothing we could do. Literally... nothing. We tried... I begged... BEGGED the vet to give me any other option to where my baby could have a good life and we could keep him. But... there was nothing.

It all started with that hip... when he originally hurt it we made him take it easy and we iced. It seemed to be getting better... slowly but surely... and then he hurt it again. So... we started over with the rest and the ice and again... it started doing better. But then, last week it reverted and kept getting worse instead of better. So... Thursday we loaded our baby up and took him to the doctor.

We had no clue what they were going to tell us. We assumed he would be loaded up on meds... have to have physical therapy... maybe even surgery. Our "worst case scenario" was an amputation or something, because again, we had no clue what was going on. But, he was in constant pain and getting around was terrible for him... so... doctor.

But the news we got... what the fuck? Our baby wasn't just hurt. Our baby had advanced and aggressive osteosarcoma that had already metastasized to his lungs. Our vet pulled up the xrays and my baby was lit up like a fucking Christmas tree. I went through all the options... everything... trying to find some route that let Xur stay with us, but make sure he could have a good quality of life as well. 

And then that vet had to essentially look me in my eyes and tell me there was absolutely nothing we could do for him that wouldn't make him feel a thousand times worse than he already did. Once we came to that fork in the road and we knew there was no "saving" or "improving" we asked how long we would have with him. And if shit wasn't bad enough, he again had to look me in the eyes and tell me they could give me enough meds to keep him "comfy" so we could "have the weekend" but extending it past that would be... well... not recommended.

With that devastating news... we loaded our baby in the car and brought him home and spent Thursday night through Monday morning together. We did everything we possibly could to make him comfy, shower him with affection and love, and just try to make him see how much we love him. He ate all the foods he usually doesn't get (and was a big fan of bacon), got as many cuddles as we could give (you know, the kind we could give because we had to be careful not to hurt him). He had visitors and even his Gma flew up from Florida on Sunday evening so he could spend some time with her.

By the time we were supposed to take him in on Monday, it was very clear to us why they said not to extend any longer. In a matter of three days our baby had lost even more weight (he had already lost a ridiculous amount in a small amount of time), his leg was six times the size it should have been, he could hardly move, his breathing was labored at best and he was never comfortable. Essentially, he was hurting but holding on for us.

But even with all that going on and knowing what we knew... having to make that decision is fucking haunting. No, I didn't want my baby to be hurt or sick... I wanted him to be the free-loving wild card he's always been and I wanted to cuddle him and kiss him and keep him forever. Once that option was no longer on the table... the anger, sadness, disbelief, and emptiness started rearing it's ugly head.

There are so many questions that we'll never have answers to. The fact that we are very much NOT ok with the circumstances doesn't change them. And I know everybody whose ever loved has to deal with this, it's a fact of life, but knowing that doesn't help get you through it when it's your turn.

I want my baby back. I want my grizzly bear to give me cuddles and keep me warm. I want him to get up with me first thing in the morning and wander the house and check in on things while I'm getting ready. I want to be outside with him in the dark to feel safe and I want about fourteen million more excessive kisses. I want to lay my head on his chest and burrow in.

I am not ok. My husband is not ok. And our other two babies are not ok. Xur-Xur not being with us has left a massive hole and none of us know how to fill it. I know we'll move forward together... we love each other... we're a family... but I would be lying if I said our family didn't feel a little lost and broken right now. He was the glue and the comfort and the warmth and how do you account for that when it's no longer there?

We know we did the right thing. Deep down in our bones, we know. We would never want Xur in pain and only wanted amazing things for him. He was the best pieces of both me and Dev that we had to offer the world. But knowing it was right, and coming to terms with it are completely different. We didn't want this... we wanted our baby. I still want my baby and honestly, I kind of want to crawl into a ball and cry and scream until somebody gives me my way. Except, they can't. Because no one or nothing can fix this. And that fucking sucks.

I don't know what happens from here. I don't know what our family is supposed to do or what the dynamic is or how any of this is going to work. We're all just so very lost and so fucking sad.

We all love our Xur-Xur something fierce, we'll miss him always and there will never be another pup that is like him. He was unique and had so much damn love to give. I miss him... I'll continue to miss him... our family will always love and miss him.

He may no longer be here next to us, but he's very much still here. In our minds... in our hearts. In every decision I have to make where love is involved, that's his sweet spot.

Rest easy, my big ole grizzly bear. Thank you so very much for letting me be your mama... it was the greatest gift and something I'll never be able to repay you for. You keep watching out for us and we'll continue to carry you with us until the day we come to join you. I love you so much, Bubs.

Five years.

This day seems to sneak up on me even though I always know it's coming. Honestly, it never fails. I always know when January is looming and know when it's headed towards its end and yet, somehow and someway, it still feels... surprising.

I reflected on where I am in life this past September (Momma's birthday), and I'd say I'm still there. Somewhere between acceptance and moving forward, while still having my moments of crushing guilt, despair, and confusion.

Today feels like every other day and like none of the other days at all. A not so friendly reminder that things are different and life has been altered. A day designed to disrupt my brain chemistry and throw my feelings into turmoil.

But then, I think of all the happy and the good and I try to counteract all the bad juju with the good memories and feelings of love. All the hope and love and life lessons that we're gifted to me throughout my life.

Is it foolproof? No. But does it help? Sometimes.

Because at the end of the day, we're all just human and trying our best. And sometimes all we need is a little grace, even if that grace needs to come from ourselves.

The last nineteen years of my life replayed in a flash.

No, I am not ok.

On July 26, 2023 I had to do one of the very hardest things that I've ever done in my entire life. 

I had to say goodbye to my Tayder pup.

I can't even begin to explain what I'm feeling right now. I feel empty but also like I need to throw up everything that's not even in my body. I feel numb but my chest aches with a burning persistence. I can't stop bursting into random tears and I feel weak.

Mentally, physically, emotionally, psychologically.

Some people might call it drained, but I don't feel drained, I feel completely and utterly weak. 

Tayder was my true North. No matter what horrible thing happened in my life or what ridiculous circumstance tried to break me, Tayder was always steadfast in his love and loyalty. I never had to question if he loved me and I never had to worry about someone coming along and him taking to them more. I always knew where we stood, because we always stood together.

He's been there since I was fifteen years old. We were both babies but he put all his love, trust and complete blind faith into me. And I know to most people they would think, "oh, you've had a dog since you were a teen, that's cool." But, he wasn't a dog. And I didn't just get a dog when I was a teen.

I received the greatest blessing I had ever received and I truly feel he is my baby. Maybe I didn't birth him, but we've been together for so long and I love him so deeply, that it honestly feels like I lost my child. And I don't care if that sounds dumb to other people or if they never understand, because even I can't explain it.

Him not being here with me just feels completely and utterly wrong.

And I knew our time together wasn't going to be forever. I was extremely lucky, my Tayder got to live until he was over twenty-two years old and lord knows everyone other than me counted him out long ago. But, no matter how much I knew and how much I would try to prepare myself, there was just no way.

Even I couldn't have foreseen how this was going to feel. I knew it was going to hurt, there was no way it couldn't, but I never in my whole life would have been able to know it would hurt this bad. 

Nothing other than losing momma has ever hurt this bad in my entire life. Nothing.

When I was eleven years old, I was with my brother and some of our friends playing in the woods. One thing lead to another and I ended up entangled in some barb-wire. Shit cut me up and was embedded so far into my thighs that a friend had to hold me up while two others had to pull the wire out. He carried me home and I was laid up for weeks in pain, constantly trying to get my legs to stop bleeding everywhere.

And still, that didn't hurt this bad. If it would bring my Tayder back, I would wrap myself in barb-wire from head to toe, light myself on fire and go cliff diving.

Unfortunately, no matter how much I want or wish, that's one thing I can't have back. It's so surreal for me to know I will never hold or cuddle Tayder again because even though I know it's completely real, it still doesn't feel like it is.

I still look for him every single time I walk into our house. I still watch for him every time I come around a corner or step down off our bed. I still listen for the little click-clack of his toes for when he wandered to the ends of the house and back.

Empty. Numb. Void. I wouldn't know what the word that I'm feeling is. I'm lost but know exactly where I am. I'm devastated and somehow have an endless supply of tears. Quite literally the only thing I want to make me feel better is... well... Tayder.

And I know I'll be ok... I think.

And I know what happened couldn't have been prevented... I think.

And I know I did the right thing... I think.

Somehow, someway, I can't help but to feel I have betrayed him. I don't think he would see it that way and I don't think anybody else does... hell, I wouldn't think that about anybody else in the exact same situation. 

But... it wasn't someone else. It was me and Tate. And to say the decision I had to make will haunt me for a long time... perhaps forever... would be an understatement. Because I know it will, it already does. And I would do it again for him in a heartbeat, but that doesn't make it any easier.

Maybe this is the price I have to pay for having him as long as I did and for loving him as much as I do. 

He gave me so many wonderful and blessed and special and amazing years and I never felt I could ever repay him for everything he gave to me. And maybe that's why it hurts so bad. Maybe this is the price at the end of the road. You know, when all is said and done and the final say is said.

But, you know what? If this is the price that has to be paid, then I guess I'll pay the toll. Because I wouldn't trade all the years and memories and moments that I have with my Tayder for anything. 

I'll cry and I'll grieve and I'll keep going because I know the little shit was training me for it. Always making me stronger and more caring and filling me so full of love.

I love you, Tayder. 

I've loved you since the first minute I looked up into that crate and you gave me a kiss on the nose. I was a sucker for you then and I love you more than I ever thought I could love another living being. You're my rock, my heart, and forever ingrained into my soul. I'll always have a piece of you with me and I know you're never too far when I need you. Thank you for being there for me at my worst times and pulling me through the deep end. I honestly don't know where I would be or what kind of person I would be without you.

You taught me patience, understanding and the true meaning of unconditional love. You're my baby and will forever be my little trooper.

I love you. So very much. And I'm gonna miss you so damn much more than I already do. But, I got this. You've done all you could do and now it's up to me to keep going through. I'll figure it out because if you've taught me anything over all the years we've been together, it's that I'm stronger than what even I think.

And I feel that because of you, Tayder. I love you.

“It’s not the length of time we knew someone that makes them so special. It’s what they brought into our lives.” –Sandra Kring

This past week (10/12-10/18), D and I made a trip to Florida to help out with and attend my FIL's (Dennis) Celebration of Life. The week was full of tears, laughs, love, understanding, questioning, and acceptance. 

Dennis was an amazing guy. The kind of man that didn't show up out of the blue too often. He was as firm as he was caring and once he had his mind set there was no turning him back. He stood true to his convictions and never faltered when it came to understanding and loving his family.

I've never met a man in all my life that was as stubborn and accepting as him. I know that makes absolutely no sense, but that's really the only way to describe him. When he had a thought or belief he held true to that but he was also able to see other peoples sides and accept that. Didn't mean he changed his mind or agreed with you at all. In fact, he'd argue with you until he was blue in the face and you were so exasperated you wanted to jump off a bridge. However, he was able to accept that people were going to live their lives how they saw fit and there was nothing he could do except offer advice, knowledge, and love.

And trust me when I tell you the man had more love to offer than any of us knew what to do with. 

I was very fortunate when I married D. I had heard horror stories my entire life about people and their in-laws never getting along. Some of the things people would tell me sounded completely unbelievable.

I knew I would never have issue with my MIL, because I love the woman like a second mother. I've known her since I was fifteen years old and she has always treated me as one of her own. Momma and her were good friends and I feel a peace and calm surrounded by love when I'm around her. No one could ever replace Momma in my mind or heart, but she has a way of showing me motherly love without trying to take the place of. She's honestly just amazing like that. 

However, when we got together I had only met his dad once (briefly when we were teens) and had never met his stepdad. I was nervous... but I didn't need to be. I have a unique relationship with each of his parents. Not unique in a bad way, but actually, quite the opposite. I'm completely comfortable and myself around them all the time. I never feel the need to hide myself or have fear that I'll say the wrong thing. His family has always just accepted who I am as a person and we've rolled with it. 

That was never more true than with Dennis. His big personality sucked you right in and he was your friend before you even knew what hit you. While expecting not to have much of a relationship with either of my FIL's, I found myself pleasantly surprised to realize that they weren't just "in-laws" they were family. My family. 

And my family is devastated over this loss.

It may sound cliché, but this is a loss that not only had we never seen coming, but also completely annihilated us. It rocked everyone of us to our core and we all feel it. No one more so than his wife and children. Because D and his siblings were never "stepchildren" to Dennis. He treated, thought of, and loved them like they were his own. And he did the same with all of us that happened to marry his children. 

My MIL lost her husband, best friend and love of her life and we all lost a father.

This past week was about celebrating his life and starting to heal as a family. People came from all over the country to say their goodbyes or share their memories and to say that our family is humbled by the outpouring of love and support that has been shown to us throughout this time, would be an understatement.

It's been hard and it's going to continue to be hard. Learning that this is your new normal after such a big loss is an overwhelming feeling. But we'll continue to go on together, and I know he'll always be hanging around watching out for us and rolling his eyes at the fact that us "kids" can't seem to keep our shit together.

We miss you, Papi. We love and adore the shit out of you and there's a giant hole in our lives now that you're no longer here. We'll continue to take care of each other and we'll keep a special eye on your honey bunny. Thank you for being the dad we all needed when we didn't even know it.

P.s... I know when we were talking to Trish on the porch this last week the only thing you could do was throw up your hands and holler "YOU KIDS ARE KILLING ME!" But, we tease out of love.

Ich liebe dich Papi. Bis wir uns wieder treffen. Ich kümmere mich um sie. Das verspreche ich.

"I love you, Papi. Until we meet again. I'll take care of them. I promise."

This morning we received a call that we knew was coming, but had been dreading. My MIL called to let us know that my FIL had passed away at one o'clock this morning. 

He was a fantastic man that made me smile whenever he was around or would talk to me. I seriously could not have asked for a more loving and caring person to be my surrogate father and to say he took me in and loved me as his own would have been an understatement.

Because that's just the kind of man he was. He took you in and once he had you in one of those infamous bearhugs, you were a goner. A giant man whose heart was as broad as his shoulders that he felt the need to carry the weight of the world on. It didn't matter what was happening or if something negative was said, he could somehow turn it around and make you feel ok. More than ok... loved.

There are no words to describe what we're all feeling right now. Devastation. Loss. Grief. None of those seem to even touch what this is. Bafflement would be the one I would think would encompass us all the best. Mostly because none of us can quite believe that he's gone. 

Sometimes when something devastating like this happens, it almost feels selfish, because you have all these thoughts you can't seem to stop... and you're wondering if that makes you a bad person or if everyone thinks these things? Things like... How can he not be here to congratulate D and I on our second anniversary? How can he miss Christmas? Whose going to teach me random German phrases and how to cook authentic dishes from his home? Whose going to make sure my MIL is getting enough rest and tell her to calm down and take a load off? Whose going to let the kids climb all over him and laugh until he almost pees his pants? 

It's not that I think it's truly important to know all these things, it's just that I honestly don't know what to do... or think... or say.

How do I look my MIL in the eye and tell her I'm so sorry about her loss when I have my amazing husband standing next to me? How do I comfort not only her, but my husband and SIL and BIL? He was the most dad stepdad that I have ever seen in my life. Didn't matter that all of my MIL's kids were older when they got together. Didn't matter that he had never had kids in his life. Once he realized he loved her, he immediately loved her children as his own as well. And they all love him. You would honestly never know they're a blended family unless someone told you.

And now, it all feels kind of... empty. No more picking him up at the airport on work trips. No more getting random phone calls to help out with trying to surprise his wife with a special present. No more watching him cook while he tells me stories about Germany. It's just all... gone. Like that, in the blink of an eye.

My father-in-law loved not only his wife, sons, daughter, and grandchildren, but also genuinely loved me as a daughter. And quite frankly, that is a gift and feeling that can never be replaced. He can never be replaced.

I remember the first time I met him. He had flown to Indy for a work convention and D and I picked him up in the middle of the night so we could all hang out. It was not only the first time I was meeting him, but also the first time he would see our house, as he hadn't seen D since he moved to Indy. I was sitting there and a giant of a man walked over to the car. I would be lying if I said just from the sheer size of the man and his baritone voice... that I wasn't a bit intimidated. But then, he got in the car and smiled at me and I just knew it was all going to be good. He had that way... a way to make you feel at ease.

From that moment on he was family to me and I was family to him. He even made sure to wrangle as many people as he possibly could to get them here for our wedding. He did whatever he could for his family and nothing made him happier than seeing the people he truly adored be happy and taken care of. 

He was always the first one to ask me how I was doing and how work was going. He was quite essentially the father figure I never had. And while it should feel weird to say that, it feels more strange to not acknowledge it. Because it's the truth.

I can't imagine what it's going to be like moving forward without him at our side. Like with all things in life, and how he would want us to, we'll find a way to keep going, but it doesn't make the situation any less devastating and unfair. Of course, with moments like this it can all seem unfair. Because it is.

I will never understand why a good kind man had to go through something like this, and there are a million bad people out there living their lives like nothing affects them. I know you shouldn't question it, because you'll never truly find the answers you're searching for, but it doesn't make the feeling of defeat stop. Because when you lose someone you love that's exactly how you feel... defeated.

Then again, I've learned over the last three years that it doesn't really matter how much you question something, because that something is what you'll be searching for forever and never find. Therefore, while we all have a million questions, with the most prominent being "why?!" I choose to think of all the good things. It doesn't make it better, but if you're going to be thinking about it either way, you may as well remember the good instead of the terrible.

So, that's what we'll do. We'll remember and love and cherish and try. Because that's what he would've wanted. And I know that, because he made his feelings very clear.

I love you, Dennis. You're the best father-in-law a girl ever could've asked for and you will be missed more than I can ever say. You are so damn loved and I'm going to miss seeing that bright as all holy hell smile. You will never truly be gone, because your spirit and love will live on through all of us. We'll miss you and think of you always, and I truly hope you have found some form of peace. Whatever that may be. 

In love, may you find the next. Safe passage on your travels, until our final journey to the ground. May we meet again.

Sometimes you have to drive 1,000 miles on a whim.

After my post last Monday, I received a call from D that worried us enough to make an emergency trip to Florida. While I won't go into in-depth detail, I will say that what has hit our family is devastating and unimaginable. My FIL needed us and we all felt the need to rally behind him. 

Not felt. Feel. We still feel the need to rally behind him, we just all have to find our own way to do that. For whatever he or my MIL needs. 

While there, we made sure things were done around the farm and house. Just trying to keep busy and make things as easy as possible for them for the next while. You know, those things that you have on your list to be done eventually, but then "eventually" smacks you in the face and it feels like everything is closing in on you? Yeah, we did those things.

We also managed to wrangle five kids between the ages of two through ten, sweat off seven pounds, and live on coffee to the point I thought I should've just hooked up to an IV of it. Oh, and the immediate family (Dev + MIL + FIL + BIL + SIL) made a hand cast for my MIL to keep around for when she feels like she needs it.

(Side note: I ordered one for D and I upon his request once we got home and I can't wait to do it together!)

There was some much needed time spent with Grandma and honestly, I think everyone just needed some hugs, understanding, and reassurance. Even though we were just there in April, we (especially D) really needed this trip.

I hate that D is so far away from his family. And I hate that he's so far away from them, because of me. But, this is where we've built our life together and everyone understands that we have to be at our home where our lives and jobs are. Does that make it easier, especially in a situation like this? Hell no. 

But, we're trying. D's having a hard time with it, which I completely understand, and we're truly just hoping for the best at this point. At all the points. 

They all know we're just a phone call away and we can't wait to get down and see everyone again soon!

Three years.

It's been three years since I lost Momma. Three years since I walked into our house and my life was forever altered. It seems like it was a lifetime ago, but the feeling of losing her is still so fresh. How does that work anyways?

Feeling like something happened years ago and yet it still hurts as if it's the first day? I'm not sure if it will ever stop hurting, but I would assume not. I mean, it still hurts after three years and I don't see this feeling going anywhere anytime soon. Are we just not supposed to ever know how it works? 

I guess not. I think that's how grief is. You can't describe it, no matter how hard you try, and even when you're surrounded by people that love and support you, it still feels like they don't understand. I suppose that's how it works for most people. If not, maybe I'm just strange, but I have a hard time believing that no one else feels like this. 

Here, but not. Happy, but sad. Complete, but empty. No matter how fulfilled you are, there always seems to be a little piece nagging in the back of your head. Asking if you really deserve to be happy like this or if everything is going to come to a screeching halt and you're honestly just waiting for the next horrible thing to happen.

Paranoia. Anger. Pain. Confusion. And overwhelming sadness. 

It's all there and I feel it every single day. Sure, there are worse days than others and while I don't believe that it has gotten easier, I do believe that I have found a better way of dealing with it. I can go about my everyday life and I'm happy. I'm fulfilled with D and our pups. The life we've built and live together. But, I still miss Momma every single day and think about her so very often. Wondering if she would be proud or happy and how different life would look right now.

However, I refuse to be defined by my grief. I feel it and live it every damn day, but I will not be consumed by it. I've been devoured by it and had to scratch and crawl and fight my way out of the deepest, darkest, scariest pit of my life.

I'm not good. I'm not great. I'm not better and I'm definitely not the same person I was. I'm flawed and sad and have days where the thought of getting out of bed is physically, emotionally, and psychologically draining. I wish I could say that those days are rare, but not as rare as I would hope. Nevertheless, I still drag myself out of bed and even when I'm not having the best day, I still try. I try and try and I simply don't give up.

Maybe it's the wrong way to go about it. Then again, I don't think there is a right way. I'm human. And I've accepted that. Once I accepted that, things became a little easier to deal with. I understand now that it's ok to not be ok. And if I have a day where I simply can't make myself do something, I don't. There are days that my house doesn't get cleaned, laundry doesn't get done, dinner gets ordered instead of cooked, and once I get home from work I curl into a little ball and surround myself with my pups and husband. 

I used to feel guilty about that. I felt so much guilt that it consumed me and I felt it in every single area of my life whether it should have been there or not. Should I feel guilty for not cleaning my house for a day or two? Should I feel guilty about not keeping up on laundry or my house not looking like someone else thinks it should? Once I figured out that the answer to that was no, life became easier. I honestly just don't care anymore if someone else doesn't like it. They can simply stay away. And yeah, maybe that's harsh, but you know what? Life is hard and if we surround ourselves with support and love instead of negativity and judgment, it makes it a much better life to live.

That's where I am three years after losing Momma. Not good or "fixed" but very flawed and beautiful. And I don't mean physically beautiful. I mean trying to live a life that makes me happy and that she would be proud of. Everything out in the open. The good, the bad, and the devastating. Surviving on nicotine, caffeine, and spite. Trying to be a good person and be brave enough to accept that some things are out of my control, but still willing to put myself out there and be free and content.

Because my Momma might have raised a whole lot of things, but she certainly didn't raise a coward.

It's already December 22nd and I left my mind somewhere in 2017.

Y'all, if my head wasn't attached, I'm pretty sure I would have misplaced or lost it by now (I got all the way to work this morning and realized I forgot my phone so I had to drive all the way back home just to pick it up and turn right around and come back). Between moving our company, the holidays rapidly approaching and everything in between, it's been a tiny bit.... stressful. Yeah, that's the word we'll go with. Stressful. Demanding. Trying. Nerve-racking. The list is eternal.

We accomplished moving our entire company this past Saturday and while we have the majority of it set up and can function like a legitimate business, there are still a million things to do and unpack. However, I now have more space in my office than I'll ever know what to do with and I LOVE it. I have issues with people being in my personal space, so the fact that I'm completely alone and people have to stand on one side with a counter in between us is my absolute dream. I don't much care for feeling like my back is open, but once we switched my desk around and I'm facing the other way with my back to the wall, it's much better. And I can roll my chair effortlessly across the floor. Score.

I lost a dear friend of mine this past Friday. In fact, he's the friend that I share the inside joke about the title of my blog with. I won't say much more about the subject, but I want everyone to know that I love this guy and he will forever be my little buddy and partner in crime. He may have only been two years younger than me, but he was the greatest little brother that I never had. I'll miss him terribly and can't even begin to imagine a world where he's not out there somewhere making inappropriate comments and sharing his hilariously honest opinions. I love you, JB.

As most people know (because I keep repeating it like it'll remind me and make treats magically appear), D and I decided to make our family/friends jerky and sweet treats for Christmas this year. His family always requests jerky and Momma and I used to have the tradition of making cookies/candies (aka "treats") every year, so we thought it might be nice. I haven't done anything like that since I lost Momma, but it really is one of my very favorite memories with her, so I have decided to keep it alive even if it is only for me. I'm all done with my portion of the presents (even though my BS balls didn't turn out right at all.... I'm going to try again another day!) and D is making his final batch of jerky tonight. When I go home today I'll get the people I work with (ie: Dani) together and then tomorrow I have to overnight D's family's packages out. Wish us luck.

What else happened this week? Oh, my brother almost cut his thumb off and between his two hands had to get twelve stitches. I told him to quit playing with those knives.... he didn't listen. My pups are still the most adorable thing on the planet and my entire world still revolves around my boys (husband + pups).

Oh! D and I figured out how much weight we've lost in the last year. While we weren't trying to lose weight, the fact that I most definitely needed to was ever prevalent. But, like the amazing husband he is, D doesn't care what size I am as long as I'm happy. He loves me regardless. I hadn't really put much thought into my weight loss, but people have been mentioning it to me a lot more and I found myself curious. When we got married I was 198 pounds (and yeah, at five foot that's ridiculous and I looked like a little pregnant mini-fridge. I attribute our wedding pictures to me looking like a walrus.) and now I am 152 pounds. For those of you that don't want to do the math, that's a 46 pound weight loss in a year. I don't know if that's good or not, but I feel better and I'm impressed with myself, so I'm taking it as a win.

Other than that, life has been regular and good, but also stressful and hectic. It's a balance that gets off tilter at times, but we manage and at the end of the day I get to curl up in my giant bed surrounded by my boys. So, life might be stressful, and at times incredibly sad, but it's also amazing and I'm so glad I get to do it with my soulmate.

Today, a good man was laid to rest and we will truly miss him.

Mark was an amazing guy. He was always funny and brutally honest. I don't know if the man ever met a stranger, because within the first three minutes of meeting him I was convinced that even I had known him longer. 

D met him through work and they became fast friends. Always hanging out and playing COD Mobile at every available opportunity. It was nice to go over to their house and just talk to him and Amy whenever the occasion presented itself. They truly are amazing people.

Even when he got ill, he still tried to use that to help other people. He truly cared what happened to the people and world around him. I know I've said it before, but it bares repeating, he was just a damn good man and will be truly missed. The world is less of a bright place without him in it.

Our hearts, love, condolences, and prayers are with his family. While I know that isn't necessarily a comforting thing during a time like this, I also know that sometimes its just nice to know that someone has your back. And I know you're not lacking in support, but Amy, if you need us, we're only a phone call away.

We loved him. We love you. And we're here.

"The comfort of having a friend may be taken away, but not that at having had one." -Seneca

My aunt knows me well and knows how to tug on my heartstrings.

When I unwrapped this, it brought a tear to my eye. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't overly emotional in general these days (what in the hell happened to me?!), but this right here? This definitely started operating the water works. I'm assuming she got it for my wedding day, but she also knew that I'd have it out and cherish it all year long. So, I wanted to say:

Thank you , Aunt Susi. You always know how to make me feel special and loved. You’re the greatest. ❤️

Mother's Day without your mom is a tough pill to swallow.

Today is Mother's Day, and the second one without Momma being here with me.

I would be lying if I said I didn't have a rough day and I've been a little extra emotional and sad the last few days. Mostly, I feel overwhelmed and exhausted and have spent the majority of my time on the couch watching tv, eating fruit roll ups, surrounded by my pups. It may not be the healthiest coping mechanism, but we all do what we gotta do.

While people tell you that time heals all wounds, I believe that this one will forever be open and bleeding for me. It may become easier to live with over time (though, it feels highly doubtful), but I don't think this sadness or emptiness will ever truly be gone.

But, here I stand. Trying against all odds, doing what I do best. Being my Momma's daughter.

Drunk Dude on a Scooter: 01, Katie: 00.

On Saturday night, I was in a car accident. In fact, it was my first ever accident. Sure, I was in an accident with Momma when I was a baby (that I have no recollection of) and I was once with my friend Carolyn and a few of her older friends and we got rear ended, but this was MY first ever accident.

I'm a cautious driver. I drive the speed limit or lower (something that I'm sure annoys all), I always use my turn signal, and I check about three times before I switch lanes to make sure that no one is near. Basically, I read the manual and I follow it. 

But, what all of the manuals and experience and advice doesn't actually prepare you for is when you're in an accident that wasn't your fault. And sure, most people say the accident that they had wasn't their fault, but in this case, there are three witnesses and a police report that agree with me.

Sure, you're told about these things and you worry, but you don't actually know what it feels like until you're in it. 

Saturday night, I learned that lesson. Before anyone panics, I'm fine. A little bump on the head (the top of my head hit my steering wheel) and some bruises/soreness (I'm assuming from the impact/seatbelt), but overall I'm fine. My car? Poor little Ricardo, he's just pitiful. He has to have a new windshield, two new grills (he has a front grill and a lower front grill), some body work, and has to be checked for internal damage.

The dude that hit me? Well.... his scooter (I honestly don't know what to call it, it looked like something between a vespa and a crotchrocket?) was totalled.... and he was drunk. I know, fun, right? 

What happened.... I had made a later night run to the grocery store and was on my way home (correction: I was pulling onto my actual f*cking street) and this dude was on his "scooter" with no headlight on and by the time my headlight hit him and I tried to turn my car away, it was too late. Luckily, I was only going about 25mph and was slowing to make the turn, or I assume it could have been much worse. He however, did not slow down, turn, honk, yell.... nothing. He was just full on hauling ass and slammed into the front of my car.

It all happened so fast and it was.... for lack of a better word.... traumatizing. His whole body came into my windshield (almost coming completely through) and his "scooter" mangled poor little Ricardo. I put him in park immediately and jumped out, so afraid that I was shaking and crying. The only thing that I could say (ok, I might have been wailing) *tears* "are you *tears* ok?! do you need *tears* an ambulance?! *tears, tears* can I help you?!" *tears*

The man stood up almost immediately, (I don't know about you, but I would've been laying there in the middle of the road) and started to yell, curse, scream, and kick at me. I just kept repeating myself and saying I was sorry (except in retrospect he hit me, so I'm not sure why I was apologizing? probably because even though he launched himself into my car, I still felt bad that he almost went through a windshield?), and he got very loud and very angry and came at me like he was going to hit me.

There were three different people (witnesses?) outside that saw what happened and the one man that was there yelled at the dude and told him that he hit me, he better not touch me, and that he was calling the police. He immediately started yelling and somebody actually picked him up and HE LEFT before the police showed up. 

They took my statement and were very understanding and kind, and honestly, I couldn't thank those IMPD officers more. They were professional, yet understanding and comforting. The witnesses also told the officers what happened for the report (so, thank you guys for being honest and helpful too!) and two ladies stood outside with me until D could get there and everything was settled (y'all are amazing people). 

The man who hit me, girlfriend showed up and according to her he was probably drunk (there is no probably, I could smell it on him, he was belligerent, and even the guy who called the cops said "a drunk man just hit a girl in her car and left the scene") and he already had a warrant out for his arrest.... hence the leaving the scene. D eventually helped her get the scooter back to her house (she was nice and helpful and it wasn't her fault), since she lived literally one street and an alley away from us. And the police let me drive my car down to our house so I didn't have to pay for a tow truck. I'm not sure if the police ever caught up with him, but I'm sure he's in quite a bit of trouble when/if they do.

So, there I was, at our house after my very first accident, freaking out and knew I had to make some phone calls. I called my insurance company first (a suggestion I got from one of the two officers), got all of the information I needed (luckily, I have full coverage so they made me an appointment to drop Ricardo off to get fixed and set up a rental car for me) and then I called Dani to let her know that I wasn't gonna be able to come in Monday and explained to her why. She was worried, but understood. I also called Aunt Poot (because it happened right down the street from her and if she would have found out second hand she would have shown up at my house with three ambulances and fourteen firetrucks). I tried to call my brother, but he didn't answer (multiple times) so I eventually just had to wait for him to call me.

Yesterday D took me to get my rental and he actually drove Ricardo to the recovery shop (yes, that's what I'm calling it) for me. They did a short assessment and let me know what further assessments they would have to do, and I should have Ricardo back sometimes middle/late next week.

I joked that my rental is so nice that I might just want to keep it, but honestly, I can't wait to have Ricardo back. I mean, we're bros and have been through alot together.

All in all, I say this to say: thank you. Thank you, to the witnesses/people that came forward and out to help me and try to make sure I was ok. Thank you, to the IMPD officers that were understanding and helpful and kind. Thank you, to all those who knew/found out and checked in on me. And finally, thank you to my amazing fiance for all that he does for me that day and every single day. None of you will ever know how much I truly appreciate you.

Finally, thank you, Momma. I know it was you watching over me and making sure that I didn't get more seriously injured and that the dude (however awful he was) that hit me didn't get more injured. There is no doubt in my mind that you were there, trying to keep me safe and watching over me, like you always have. ❤️

One year.

On this day, one year ago, I lost the greatest person that I have ever known. That morning was the last time I hugged her and told her I love her. My best friend, my confidant, my go-to, my horror movie buddy, my lifeline, my heart.... my Momma.

It seems unreal to me that she's not here with me anymore. Even though it's been a year, I still find myself everyday wanting to talk to her, send her a message, tell her something funny, or basically just share our everyday lives together. I catch myself still talking to her in our house and am devastated all over again when I realize that I am just talking to myself.

There are no words to describe what I feel.

Sadness: because she's not here and even now I don't really know what to do with myself. Whenever I had a problem she was the first person I went too. Anytime I had a story to tell she was the first one to hear it. But now, I find myself still wanting to share every aspect of my life with her and she's not here.

Anger: mostly, because she's not here. But also, because I still haven't been able to deal with this. She raised me to be a strong person, it was entwined in our DNA, and I swear I used to be incredibly strong. I used to be able to take the hits and keep on pushing through. And with all other things, I am still like that. With this though, I break. I'm broken.

Guilt: while I know she would want me to move on with my life and live it to the fullest and be happy, I feel guilty moving on without her. I feel like if I'm happy for even two minutes that it's somehow betraying her and the life we had planned out. I often wonder if she knew how much I loved her and how lost I am without her.

But all of these do not even begin to encompass how I feel. Hell, even I don't know how I feel most of the time. Mostly, I just try to take it day by day and hope for the best.

Here I stand, trying. I've been trying. I'm mostly struggling.... and I think on some level, possibly even failing. But trying, just like my Momma taught me.

"No daughter and mother should ever live apart, no matter what the distance between them." -Christie Watson

I made Christmas dinner a day late and it just had to go down like that.

I’d be lying if I said Christmas wasn’t hard this year. In fact, it was really hard. Just like the rest of this year. I couldn’t even bring myself to cook Christmas dinner and instead made it the day after. But, I’m trying, and I have people that are trying to help. And you know what? That’s all I can ask for. ❤️ In the words of Riddick, there are bad days, and then there are legendary bad days. It’s always the punch you don’t see coming that puts you down, but.... it’s not about how you fall down, it’s about how you get back up. So, here we are. Here I am. ❤️

Christmas is almost here. 2019 is almost over. And here I shakingly stand.

Today is our Company Christmas Party and Dani and I have decided that we are going to try and embrace Christmas this year, because with Christmas comes the end of this ridiculous f*cking year that we would all like to forget.

It's been a rough one, to say the least. After losing Momma (and her losing her dad), not to mention the other people that we've lost this year, it's just been a real hard year for us all. Luckily, Dani is almost as cynical as me, so we tend to have the same dark sense of humor and can reflect on things in the same way.

We're having our party at the brewery down the street from the shop (the same place we had it last year) and I was in charge of setting up catering, so if it's f*cked up, it's on me. Which, whatevs, we'll deal with it and if it doesn't work, I'll just go buy a bunch of pizzas or something. But, after today there's the weekend and then I only work 1.5 days next week and I'm OFF FOR FIVE.

I have to pick up D's dad from the airport on Christmas Eve, and he'll be spending the week with us. My brother, the baby, and his girl will also be there on Christmas Eve and my brother will be at our house for a bit on Christmas day, so that should be nice. I'm somewhere between wanting to be completely alone and having a house full of people, so I think it will be nice.... probably. We're at least going to try and do it semi-right.

D and I have to go this weekend to pick up a couple more Christmas gifts (I did the majority of our/my Christmas shopping online this year, because laziness), and our turkey.... maybe I'll even pick up a small ham and some stuff to bake cookies.

You see, Christmas was Momma's favorite holiday. So every year, we did a big tree, decorated inside and out, made a big dinner, and baked up a storm. Seriously we made candies and cookies out the wazoo. But, without her, this year just hasn't been the same. I haven't been in the "holly jolly" spirit and it's almost like I don't even see the point of this time of year anymore. D had to practically force me to even get a tree (with minimal decorations) and I did all of my shopping online and way later than I should have pushed it. So far, I've done no baking and while I'm trying to force myself to try, I'd be lying if I said it wasn't extremely hard. And there are still days I don't know if I can do it.

In fact, this year has been the hardest thing that I've ever dealt with in my entire life combined. And not to sound dramatic, but I've been through some shit.

But, here I stand, trying. I've been trying. I'm mostly struggling.... and I think on some level, possibly even failing. But trying.