Homesick

I'm going to be honest, today has been really rough. I really thought that each year, Brenna's birthday would get easier, and until today, it had. My logical human mind has rationed that because April 7 is filled with so many more positive memories than May 25, this day should not be hard, especially not five years later. It should be filled with happy memories. But this year, the happier ones seem harder to come by than they normally do. Each year when I write these for Brenna's birthday or death day, it seems like I can reflect on what I have learned over the last year - I somehow feel better and more sound and stable than I did the year before. But this year, it doesn't quite feel that way. Today, on Brenna's 23rd birthday, I almost feel like I'm moving backwards.

I've learned a lot about the setbacks and 'relapses' that come with grief both from learning about it in school and working with a counselor who has been through the same thing. It's amazing how society seems to give people one year to grieve and then they assume that things are back to normal - but now that you're in the middle of it, five years seems like five days. This year, I think that the best way to describe my feeling is homesick. That doesn't make a lot of sense, because no amount of money in the world could get me to go back to the summer of 2012..the toughest summer of my life. I wouldn't say that I want to go back to high school, before she did, either. So much has happened since then and I wouldn't take it back. The time that most fits the homesick category is probably my last two years at K-State, where I felt like my grief was minimal, and had a great group of friends and really just felt like I had it all under control - but I'd still be missing my time at Creighton that, stressful as it may be, is allowing me to work towards a goal I've had since I was 14. Maybe I'm homesick for a little bit of each of those places today - but not too much of any one of them.

Most days (with the exception of this semester as the stress has been insanely high) I make it without thinking about that horrific day in May much at all. I think about Brenna when I hear the girl in my class who has a contagious laugh just like she did, or I think about her when I see the movie Tangled, or I think about my last conversation with her when we talk about medical intervention in the hospital - how she was arguing (legitimately) that marijuana should be used during labor, and although she was serious, the rest of us were laughing so hard the tears were rolling. How I wish I could bottle those things up and keep them forever.

This year is the first year that on Brenna's birthday I have not been able to go home at least within a few days, to take her flowers. Her voice still remains in my head during seventh grade P.E., where she strutted across the gym floor, yelling out "Life is a fashion show, and the world is my runway." I vowed to myself and her that I would, as long as I lived, be sure that her grave lived up to her sense of style and her bright, warm personality. It is hard to know that this year, it is simply by the path of life that I am farther away than I've ever been - and it is substantially harder to be in Omaha today than I ever dreamed it would be. How dare I continue to move on with my life when she will never have that opportunity? I can remember the yellow bracelet I made for her funeral, and how I swore to myself I would never take it off, but six months later, I had to cut it off in order to play intramural volleyball at K-State, and I cried right there in the middle of the rec center. I vowed that the WWBD would never be washed off my car, but it came off, a little less than a year later. When I moved to Creighton, some of the stuff that had been with me that was hers or reminded me of her didn't come. All of the things I promised to do, see, and be for Brenna in her absence have faded into my memory - right along with the details that gave me nightmares for years to come. How dare I forget the good with the bad? How dare I not be able to separate them out for someone who did so much for me?

Wednesday night, I went to go hang out with Emma, the little girl that I dance with and her family. After her bath, she was snuggled up into her Little Mermaid jammies, curled up on my lap, watching Mickey Mouse on her iPad. There's something about a freshly bathed, snuggly, tired little girl that just cures what ails you. (Not to mention her ten month old brother clapping and babbling on the floor, taking the occasional try at stealing her iPad, and then losing interest) True to form, on one of her commercials, a Tangled ad came on. I love the movie Tangled, but the scene with the sky lanterns still gets to me - remembering the sight, smell, and emotions that I had the night my high school community released them in honor of my friend, and, just at dusk, hundreds of lanterns filled the sky - and as usual, she was still lighting up the lives of those around her. That Tangled commercial was like her way of reminding me - I KNOW you can do this. It feels wrong for me to be stressed about school because she never had the opportunity... but yet here I am. I want so desperately for that to be in my control - to constantly be able to feel joy that I have been given so many privileges that she was denied by someone else's decision - but this time of grief is a weird combination of carrying on with life and also wanting to never move on, ever.

In the car last night I heard a song by MercyMe, my absolute favorite Christian band, called Homesick. The song talks about the feeling that you have knowing that someone you love is in Heaven. I had not yet heard something that describes the specific type of pain that comes this long (almost 5 years) after someone dies - the initial shock, trauma, and sadness is gone.. but you still feel empty sometimes. You can go days, weeks, even, without noticing. And then all it takes is one thing - a baby sleeping in your lap, the sound of birds on the first really nice spring day, or a Kansas State football game - and it all comes rushing back. And you feel guilty for those weeks and months when you did well. You're trying to enjoy, but not to compromise on all the promises that you swore on at her funeral. This song talks about the famous line everyone tells you after someone dies - that that person is 'in a better place'. It doesn't matter how true that is, that line usually makes me want to punch someone directly in the eyeball.

Another line in that song by MercyMe is that "In Christ there are no goodbyes" and I find that statement somehow profound, obvious, and so comforting. Anyone who grew up in the church could have answered that, right? Of course there are no goodbyes. That's what keeps you going when someone you love dies - it may be a long see you later, but it's a see you later. But when you get caught up in this process, you mostly end up grieving the goodbye - or lack thereof. Most of my memories from those five days in May between Brenna's death and her funeral are blurry and don't make any sense - but it's hard to grieve the fact that you never got to say goodbye, and it's hard to grieve something that never happened - her college years, her marriage, her years as a kindergarten teacher. Everyone tells you so many ways about how to grieve the loss of a person, but no one tells you how to grieve the loss of their life. It's hard to grieve something that wasn't.

Now, I grieve as I hit new stages in life and grieve what she didn't have. She never made it to college, never got to be a teacher, never got to go to grad school of any kind, meet people from all over the world like I did at K-State, or play college sports like she planned. This past year, I've learned about about grieving all over again when life starts to get tough or change. I know that it will get better - it always does - but sometimes the hole just feels more raw. This morning I felt angry when I had been working on this blog all week and couldn't seem to wrap it's ends up. I still don't feel like I did it, but I'm using it anyway. It seems to be a perfect analogy with how my heart feels today. Something just seems off this year, and it doesn't seem to be fixable, but maybe with time it will wrap itself up.

I would give anything in the whole wide world to go visit heaven. I used to sit in class at K-State and think about how, if i can go to the office hours for my professor, I should be able to attend visiting hours in heaven. Not permanently and not even for a long time. Just to stop by... look in the window, maybe. To see who she's met. What she's doing. How the food is, even. Are the streets paved in gold or candy like I had imagined as a child? (don't ask me why my view of heaven seems to be something out of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory) Is it my teenage view of heaven, where I would have happily accepted comfy couches, soft blankets, and hanging out with my friends? Or is it my grad school vision, where all I ask is a world where the grading scale isn't so steep, and maybe a full night's sleep once a week or so. I know this vision will change as I grow older - maybe one new qualification I would add is that everyone I love is finally in the same place again. Occasionally, Brenna will show up in a dream of mine, and that can be a bright spot for my entire week. It does wonders just to see her, to know she's ok, to have even the tiniest bit of that awful, awful term 'closure.'

One of my favorite quotes says it best - "You will never truly be at home again because part of your heart will always be somewhere else. That is the price you pay for the richness of knowing and loving people in more than one place." And this explains it perfectly - it is almost like, as you get older, loving people and things you have visited gets harder - when you would think it wouldn't be that way at all. When I think about the fact that I have friends in Nicaragua and Hong Kong, and that I may never make it back to those countries, it is somehow both sad and fulfilling to think that a little chunk of my heart is resting peacefully in a classroom in Asia teaching bible school, and that another chunk is in a small village in Nicaragua, eating lunch with the kids and playing soccer with them. But, ten, thirty, fifty years from now - if I wanted to visit those countries again, I could. But there is no train, plane, or even a boat to heaven - I have to just be really, really patient.

Birthdays, in my opinion, are much harder than death days. The hardest part about days like today are the articles that pop up on Facebook that have nothing do with her close family or friends - the things that bring her up as a court case and not a person. Things advocating for the death penalty, which even she herself would never have wished on anyone. Today I think of all the things that 23 year olds do that she never had the privilege of doing. On May 25, I think about the horrifying scene of that day, but the day ended in Jesus himself escorting her to the gates of heaven - that day can't be all bad.

There will always be parts of me (at least I think) that struggle with these specific two days of the year - but there will always be parts of me that love a little harder, deeper, and wider, because I experienced an extreme loss of an amazing friend, and through which I learned more about the court system, the evil of the world, and everything about this world that just doesn't work right or make any sense.  I think those parts of me that I learned from her and from the situation grow every year - minuscule as they may seem sometimes.  Despite pain, sadness, and a lot of confusion that the last five years have brought, this situation has shown me that tragedy can transform into something exponentially better. Getting through these days will, eventually, get easier because even 100 years from now, her legacy is something that will carry on. Maybe not directly, because of the thoughts and actions of those that knew her and knew of her. The best thing about the gift of life, I guess, is that it never stops giving. As usual, with her photo that went famous on Facebook just three months after she died of a quote she had left in our high school..you just have to 'take lots of pictures and enjoy this time, but just remember - the best is yet to come."

The Little Guy

Since coming to OT school in August, many people on various occasions have asked me how grad school is going. I usually give a quick answer that lasts 1-2 sentences, and I'll be honest, some days it is much more positive than others.

Being in professional school is, quite honestly, one of the hardest things I have ever done. The amount of stress that I have felt during the last seven months has not been paralleled during any other time in my life - moving to a new city where I really didn't know anyone, farther away from my family than I'd ever been before, dealing with a new type and level of stress for someone who is generally an anxious person to begin with, and a thousand other "news" has been a real challenge, and I question more often than not why I came here in the first place.

"The Big Guy" is a term I've heard quite a bit since moving here, whether or not they say it in those exact words. "The Big Guy" and what He's doing in my life right now. The Big Guy and his plans. The Big Guy his purpose. Some days, I just down right don't feel like looking at the big picture anymore, because that crap is stressful. The Big Guy - challenging me to move away,  giving me such an opportunity to pursue a doctoral degree, blessing me with an awesome roommate (who keeps me sane more than she'll ever know). "The Big Guy" is a term we all here a lot in life, honestly - I heard it when Brenna died, when Sam got sick, during the grad school application process, and on absolutely terrifying journeys like my first trip to Asia. "The Big Guy" is always up to something, isn't He?

If there is anything I have learned through this semester, it is that sometimes, it is okay to not focus on "The Big Guy" and his plans. In fact, sometimes that is impossible and makes me feel ten times more anxious and scared for my future. What has actually turned out to be more helpful, is the little guy.

When I use this term I picture this adorable little kid, probably four, who just kind of walks around blessing people. Almost like God has elves. This little guy puts your headphones in your backpack for you when you have a 15 hour library day and forget them. The little guy schedules the half price margaritas for whenever you can get there. The little guy thinks of things that no one, including yourself, even knew you needed, and his deeds go, for the most part, unnoticed.

This semester, the little guy has been more prominent for me than I ever thought he would be. I have an amazing roommate, who never fails to make me laugh, and keeps me going on the weeks where I am running on 45 minutes of sleep by Friday. The little guy knows the maintenance staff from my apartment complex, who make this such a great and hassle free place to live, because he knows how much I don't have time for right now. The little guy allowed me to meet Emma, a four year old little girl from Omaha who I get to go to dance class with once a week. The little guy plans the way that when Emma and I sit at dance class, Emma always keeps one hand on my leg until she feels comfortable with where we are, since she cannot walk. Only the little guy orchestrated this relationship knowing that I need Emma just as much as she needs me. The little guy planned the way my best friends from home still text me and let me know they're praying for me during the rough weeks - without me even telling them the week is rough.

The little guy led me to the yoga studio that I have found and become interested in this semester, the cooking I have taken up a desire to learn, the 45 minutes that cooking dinner each night takes me away from school and gives me a sense of productivity. The little guy ran Google the day that I googled for a counselor in Omaha and found the perfect one - just by clicking the first name that popped up. The little guy is the mail that I get from my parents every so often, reminding me that they believe in me and are so proud of me no matter what. It is the valentine my 11 year old cousin in Virginia sent me, where he made me a word search out of marker and printer paper for a study break.

In grad school I have learned that incredible amounts of stress and change can bring back past trauma - suddenly I am having days where I feel as though Brenna's death and all that accompanied it for myself and my community during my first move to college was only yesterday. I know that these are things I will probably always work through, but that doesn't make them easy. - Any knowledge that something could or will happen doesn't make it easier when it actually does. But the little guy is present.

The little guy is Emma's family, who have opened their home to me, understanding how much being around a family refuels me and gives me a break from school. The little guy is the blackout curtains that let me sleep late on Saturday mornings. The little guy is my professors who care so deeply about my success as a therapist and all the people I will help. The little guy is the news that I did way better than anticipated on a test I was really nervous about. He is the excitement that Chloe had in her eyes when her family came up in the fall to go to the zoo, and she saw penguins. The little guy is in everyone who has helped me to get where I am today - every step of the way.

The little guy is the knowledge within me that sometimes, it CAN'T be about the big picture. God wants me to focus on His big picture, but sometimes, I have to understand that my picture is smaller - because I am so little, and He is so big. Focusing on 'the little things' has been the key to my success (and sometimes survival) each day. If I look a month into the future right now, I see close to 20 exams practicums, and big assignments, (6 of them in the same week) the choice about where to do my next fieldwork (a lot tougher of a decision than I thought it would be) and the knowledge that I truly do not see a 'light at the end of the tunnel' for quite some time. But thankfully, that's where the little guy comes in. The little guy knows that the big picture just isn't reasonable right now, and that's okay, but he's going to make sure that I get there.

Terminal A

There are a handful of things in this world that bring the people who inhabit it a great amount of joy without them even realizing it. These things bring a joy so instantaneous and temporary that you've forgotten it within ten seconds. Some of these things might be the first bite of your favorite food, watching a child go sledding for the first time, or putting on a sweatshirt that just came out of the dryer. One of my personal favorites, though, is the split second when you first see someone you love coming down the jetway after getting off of an airplane. I've usually been waiting for quite awhile between the hour and a half drive to the airport and the waiting for the person to step off the plane. And for that split second, your joy is so overwhelming you just can't contain it.

This summer we were privileged enough to have two young girls from Hong Kong stay with my family for two weeks. They were 10 and 11 and some of our most joyous memories of the whole summer were during those two weeks - they got to see fireflies for the first time, eat lots of ice cream and fruit (as those weren't things they ate much of at home) and run barefoot in the grass (also something they can't do, living in apartment buildings in Asia) and this was an incredible reminder of the joys that I take for granted, having the opportunity to do those things all the time.

When we first met Suki and Cathy, we got to go pick them up from the airport. Their plane arrived around 10 pm, and if you've ever been in the Kansas City airport, you will understand that the host families for 20 students from Hong Kong plus parent chaperones adds up to more people than usually inhabit that airport in a week. We looked like a high school tour group, trying to find the right gate and get our welcome signs ready to go. We were led by our 'troop leader' the week, Jacob, a seven year old whose family was hosting two students and he could not have been more excited to get new visitors into his home that he could hang out with for a whole week.

Once we found the right gate, got everyone situated.... we waited. And we waited, and waited, and waited some more. We finally saw an aircraft pulling up to the gate (again, this is Kansas City, it's pretty easy to tell when a plane pulls up whether it is yours or not.) We had been waiting, and waiting, and waiting. Jacob got on someone's shoulders while yelling "Places, people!" (seriously, you have to meet this kid) And then....

We waited. This plane must have pulled some Harry Potter tricks because what felt like thousands of people piled off this plane before we could see the heads of 20 ten year old students with their supervisors following closely behind. Chaos, Anxiousness, and Joy ensued as the kids were tired from an entire day of travel, and we tried to pair kids up with the right host family.. sleep deprived and shy ten year olds who weren't super confident in their English.

Finally. Finally, after five months of having Cathy and Suki's pictures on our fridge.. they were here. After studying their papers to know which foods they liked and didn't like, what they were afraid of, and what they wanted to do while they were in the United States, we were so ready to show them absolutely everything we had to offer - these two young girls that we had never even met, and only got to 'borrow' for two weeks.

This week, my family has been dealing with the painful process of saying goodbye to my Aunt Bobbie. As long as I can remember, Aunt "Bobbie" has been in my life and, having no kids of her own, treats her nieces, great nieces, and great great nieces like treasure. At the age of 94, she has done and seen her part of the world and has been asking my mom for the better part of a year when she will be able to see her sisters and her momma again. She is one of six girls, the first one died over fifty years ago, and the most recent one around 8 years ago. I can't imagine being separated from my sister in such a sense for even a day.

Wednesday night my mom called to update me on her status and I cried when I realized this really was the end. She talks about heaven and you should know how unbelievably excited I am for her - but it set in. Being like another grandma to all her nieces, death is never fun - and I don't care what anyone says, it's not natural. Inevitable, yes, natural, no. My mom has been with her each night this week, relieving my grandparents, who spend their days there. I am lucky to have a family who treats one another as such a priority, even though in her last days she was very unaware of her surroundings and gave no response.

I vaguely remember going to visit Aunt Bobbie as a child and she still lived independently (with one of her sisters), and the looks on their faces when they opened the door to find my sister and I standing there were looks of pure joy that I know I will never get out of my mind. (I still have this same picture of my great grandma, who died when I was 5 - it's one of my few memories, and it's a good one) They would always invite us into their home and we would tell them about school and life. While we talked, they would go to the bathroom and get a Dixie cup and fill it with M&M's (and when mom wasn't looking they filled it again) They were the cool aunts, who treasured their nieces for so long.

The bible says that heaven will be a joyous reunion, and until this week, I hadn't allowed myself to paint that picture. Until now, all the people in my adult life who passed away were not ready to leave the world and the grief and sorrow that was left around them was immense. This time, it's a little different. My aunt was EXCITED to leave this world. When I try to put myself in her shoes, I go back to relationships, hopes for my future, and things that I just find downright fun that I'm not ready to give up yet. ... But she's excited.

I imagine my aunt stepping off the plane (or staircase or elevator or boat or whatever) to get into heaven and her sisters running straight at her, because Jesus let them know a few hours before that she was on her way. I imagine her being able to walk again, even run and participate in the world's best group hug. I'm quite sure that my aunt will soon order one of heaven's finest cocktails, and sit down to catch up wit her sisters - for the first time in 70 years. I can't imagine the excitement of her sisters, to know that you are in the greatest place imaginable, where there is no sorrow, pain, or concern about anything other than Jesus himself, and you are summoned down because Jesus needs you in Terminal A to be part of the welcoming party - for someone that you loved dearly and haven't seen in seventy years. For someone who will finally, after seventy years, bring your family of eight back together again.

On the way to heaven, there are no gate changes, delayed flights, or overbooked seats. There is no wandering aimlessly through hallways and staircases to find baggage claim. God calls us to get on the right plane, out of the right gate, and he will multiply the love when we finally get off the plane to step into the arms of those we have loved for the first time in so many years.

This morning, my mom finally called me to let me know that Aunt Bobbie had passed, and after the few momentary tears, I was overcome with excitement. What is she doing? Are her sisters waiting? Is she already there? What will they do tonight and for the rest of the weekend? Today, although sad, I am thankful that this world isn't the end. I'm thankful that my aunt's inability to care for herself physically was temporary, and all her pain is now gone. I am thankful that in her last days, although she only slept, that was actually the hardest part. It was the last part of the international flight where you are overtired, annoyed, and a tad bit hangry.

Last night at dinner my dad and I were talking about what is taking her and God so darn long to agree on a time to go home. She asks to go see her sisters, but then she consistently defies what we are told about her health and always does better. But then, just when we think it's finally here, they tell us 'within a few days' and she's still in consistent condition a week later. I think my mom has told the hospice nurses more than once during the last week 'you don't know my aunt' but when it comes right down to it, I don't know if anyone is actively controlling this timing. My dad and I were talking about how excited we are for her to finally see her sisters again and he said 'they just aren't ready. they're getting her room ready, blowing up balloons and all.'

I know that Jesus has had her picture on His fridge for many years, knowing the all the things about her we spent time learning about Cathy and Suki. He impatiently awaited her arrival, and gathered the appropriate people this afternoon to meet her plane...After 94 years, the vast majority of which have been apart from a number of people she loved, she has finally stepped off the plane to be welcomed home.

Ten Things I Learned From My Dad

1. Empathy, care, and other important things

My dad is genuinely one of the most empathetic people I know, and as I've gotten older, that is a quality that I look for and highly value in others. I am much more emotional than my sister and when I am having an emotional, teenage girl moment my dad always handles my phone calls and complaints with a listening ear, (not just hearing me, but listening to me) and then helping me to fix the problem, even though sometimes they can be some really stupid things. When I was in kindergarten, I came home upset one day because there was a toy on the playground that everyone else could climb and I couldn't. It was a bunch of red disks that spun, stacked on top of each other and connected by a pole down the middle. He responded by getting up and taking me to the school the following Saturday, and patiently teaching me how to climb the toy so that on Monday I could keep up with everyone else - helping me learn and sensing my genuine fear instead of telling me to 'suck it up.'


2. If you think you're above service, you aren't a leader at all.

I can't even count the number of times I've noticed my dad going above and beyond for coworkers, friends, or even people we don't know at all. When I was in middle school we were traveling through western Kansas one snowy Christmas morning to see his family and we passed by a wreck where someone was trying to flag down help (with no cell phone service to call the police) and he didn't hesitate to pull over and help people. Last year, when we were in South Carolina, there was a big rainstorm one day and a tree had fallen in the middle of the road on our way to dinner. Without question, dad stopped the car to get out and help to move it for everyone behind us. My dad consistently goes above and beyond to help neighbors and friends whenever in need.


3. How to have harmony without harmony.

One thing that really bothers me is when I have conflict with people in my life. Even when things need to change, it eats away at me if people are angry with me, upset with me, or just general unaddressed conflict. My dad is always able to help me handle those situations with grace so as to set a Christian example but also how to stand up for myself. I quit my first job when I was 17 and it wasn't on good terms. I had to go in before school on one Monday morning to turn in my key, and he stayed home from work that morning so that he could go with me - the conflict was never solved, but he made me feel confident enough to stand up for myself and helped me to understand that sometimes, life just doesn't work that way.


4. How to make friends

One of my favorite things about taking my dad places or introducing him to my friends is that he can be friends with LITERALLY anyone. He knows how to talk to people and make them feel comfortable, by asking questions about them and genuinely taking an interest in their lives. Not only do I never have to worry about having an awkward dad, I now have watched him do it enough times that I can usually successfully navigate through awkward encounters with minimal awkward feelings.


5. How to apologize when you are wrong

When I was growing up there were only a handful of times I remember having a serious conflict with my dad when I didn't look back and realize he was right. All of those times, he came in and apologized (never allowing us to go to bed angry) and explicitly said what he did wrong and how we could prevent that conflict in the future. Sounds cliche and simple, but it made it a lot easier to go to him when I was mad at him for something.


6. The importance of trying new things

When I was little we went to World's of Fun with some good friends and I rode my first roller coaster, the Timberwolf. I absolutely HATED it, but had wanted to go just because I had never been on one. Looking back, I don't think that riding that was my dad's favorite thing that day, but he did it to show me that there was nothing to be afraid of.


7. How to treat your spouse

This is accurate for both of my parents, but they set great examples for marriage that my sister and I could look up to. My dad is sure to do things like open the door, ask my mom her opinion and talk things out when they make decisions, and occasionally likes to surprise her, too. :)


8. Presence, not Presents

My parents have always given us gifts for birthdays and Christmas, but truthfully, I don't really remember them. What I do remember, however, is how when my mom and sister and I want to go to Kansas City and shop, dad always chooses to tag along instead of stay home and golf or watch whatever sport is on TV. He patiently hangs out in stores with us and then, seeing our new choice of clothes, always responds with "That's really pretty." I know we could come out of our rooms dressed as mummies and he would still compliment us. There's few warmer feelings in life than knowing your dad thinks you look nice.


9. How to love my sister

My sister and I really aren't too much alike other than our head of curly hair, and when we were little, we did fight. My dad always used to tell us to 'love her, because she's the only sister you've got.' This usually made us more mad, because we didn't WANT to love her right then, and also that this shut down our continuous complaints about wanting more siblings. However, later in life, it has taught me how to love my sister even when I don't agree with her, and she has been my best friend though some really tricky situations in life - and I am thankful he taught me that.


10. How to work hard, play hard

I just got to watch this one in action today, as we had eight students from Hong Kong swimming in our pool, as well as our own usual crowd of family friends. I watched my dad have water fights, play basketball, and chase and tease the kids in the same way he used to do with my sister and I. My dad works incredibly hard in all aspects of life, but he never misses a chance to have a little fun.

The Starfish

One day, a man was walking along the beach when he noticed a boy walking along, picking up some starfish. He would pick one up and then throw it back in the ocean, continue to walk, choose another one, and throw it back. "What are you doing?" The man asked. "You know that you will never make a difference with all these starfish." The boy picked up a starfish and tossed it back into the ocean. "It made a difference to that one" he replied.

It is very easy to get into a mindset in life similar to that of the man's - not worrying about what seems to be 'the little things', and getting caught up in the larger picture of life. Those of us that graduated with Brenna, now four years later, are either finishing up college or have graduated and are beginning new chapters in life. It is easy to think big picture - career, college, graduate school, and for some, marriage and a family.

But at one time, the little things were very important to us. Still in my room sits the whiffle ball that we received at her funeral - something I know will stay with me for a long time. I still have the happy birthday tiara, slightly faded, that was hers, and the 'celebrate everything' sign that I received the night we went to look through her things. That night happened to be my 18th birthday, and my friend Katelyn came to ride with me, and she brought me a balloon and a cupcake to eat as we drove over to do the hardest thing that I have ever done. It was the little things.

The little things have slowly started to fade and lose meaning. The newscaster's voice used to ring in my ears "Brenna Morgart has been reported missing since 11 a.m. on Friday, May 25..." for months after she died. For a long time, I could not see the patriot guard without tearing up and remembering the way that the man opened the door for me that day at her funeral, unable to make eye contact as I thanked him because he, too, was near losing it. I have felt less and less like I have to keep every 'little thing' - trinket, picture, or gift she ever gave me, because the impact she left has not deteriorated over time, but has multiplied.

For anyone who is not familiar with the ways of starfish reproduction (which I assume is 99% of you reading this) I will inform you that starfish, unlike most creatures, do not need two beings to reproduce, but they actually lose a limb that basically grows a new starfish. A couple years ago, my family was at the beach, and I tried to pick up a starfish and I broke it's leg off. This story is funny now, but I cried for like ten minutes. My sister, caring and precious as she is, just informed me that I was helping the starfish reproduce. As starfish are one of our most joyous finds on our beach trips, I was okay with this - it was one more starfish to add joy to someone else's day.

As time has passed, the lessons and memories of Brenna have seemed to do this very thing. The details of them means less, but they have never vanished, only weaved their way into new interests, memories, and paths of life. Those things that were once so painful to look at (like the whiffle ball) have now become subtle, concrete pieces of my heart that make me smile when I see them. (like the way that I remember Pastor Cogswell hitting them into the audience with a plastic bat at the 1400 people present at her funeral, and missing a few - talk about pressure) Brenna was a joy, that I was blessed to get to spend five years with, but I know that someday, in the grand scheme of things, that might be a distant memory. Pleasant and heartwarming, but distant. She was unbelievably good at taking pieces of herself and giving them to others to make their days, weeks, or even lives better. (not in the literal sense like the starfish do, but you know what I mean)

She was the person who could easily pick someone up on a bad day, just like the boy did. She was the person who would give a piece herself to others to make them happier, or to lend a hand. Although I am sad to admit that my memories with her have faded, and I know that is only going to progress, the lessons have not.

There is a word for the type of person that Brenna was, and it is grace. Grace was recently defined to me by someone wise as simply 'being nicer to people than they deserve.' Grace sounds like a religious, complex word, but it really is not when you think about it that way. Everyone, religious or not, has days when they need someone to be a little nicer than they deserve. If you look, those people are easy to find. It might be a coworker, the Walmart cashier, or someone in your family. It is an easy way to multiply a love that you once received.

On May 23, 2012, Brenna posted her last Facebook status. I will attach it below, but it read "There are two ways to live life: one as though nothing is a miracle, and one is though everything is a miracle." -Albert Einstein. At face value, you might think "What a nice quote" or "Oh, I should start living the other way around." We live a world where everything has a consequence, a logic, a reason. Although that's not a bad thing, it'd be nice to live in a world where you lived thinking you were just really darned lucky to have everything you do.

It is my goal to someday be half of the person that Brenna was. To toss back half of the starfish she did, and to go half of the lengths that she did to give part of herself to better others. I am thankful that over time, the little, both painful and happy memories have faded. The chunks missing in my memory due to the way that the brain handles trauma have been smoothed over. But the footprints she left in my heart about investing in others have only gotten larger and more bold. To the people who have helped me survive, understand, and grow in the past four years, thank you. To the people by my side as we learned what pain really was, thank you. But to the girl who taught me what grace is, I thank you the most.

To the Incoming College Freshman - 24 Things I Learned In College

1. I cannot bold this one enough, but YOU CAN DO IT. 
I used to go each semester and speak to a class at my high school about college and the transition that accompanies it. Usually, I just stood at the front of the room and invited them to pelt me with every pressing question they could think of. One of the most popular ones I got was inquiring the actual difficulty level they would face. I won't say college is easy, but I promise you that you can do it. You are here because you want to be here, and that is at least 98% of the battle. (I made that percentage up but that's what it feels like)

2. Extra Credit is like Imodium.
Like imodium, extra credit doesn't really seem that valuable until you actually need it. College extra credit is much smaller than high school extra credit, usually only two or three points depending on the professor. You will probably think, "Oh, I have a 92, and I know that the final will be easy." but then next thing you know you're home because your dog breaks his leg or something, miss an in class assignment, and those one or two points would have made the difference between the A and the B. There is no time when extra credit will not come in handy. I promise. So unless you or someone close to you is dying, take advantage of it.

3. Make friends with important people. 
Here I am not necessarily talking about the Dean of your college or even your professors, although you should definitely be very nice to those people because they control a lot of decisions that could really affect you. I am thinking more of like, your RA, your roommate, or the workers in the dining center. These people have much more indirect control over you, but are still in charge of your less basic needs, like fun floor events, the food that you must eat, or your general sanity when you are in your living space. Even if you absolutely despise these people, at least bust your butt to be nice to them. In the words of my mom, be the bigger person. You won't always notice definitely positive feedback if you are nice, but I promise you'll notice negative feedback if you aren't.

4. Assume that the internet will crap out on you at the worst possible time.
Among helping you with research, finding you funny memes, and being the source of your dorm decorations, one of the internet's favorite hobbies is going out when you need it most. This sounds very negative, but really I am just trying to save you heartache that will overwhelm you. If the quiz is due at midnight and you have fifteen minutes to take it, do not start it at 11:45. I know that some of you function this way and that is okay. Just understand the if the internet does go down at this time, your professor will probably ask why you waited so long and be much less helpful about getting the quiz back and accepting it late.

5. Go out of your way to be helpful and kind. 
Generally speaking, college is basically a bunch of people living together and doing life together and trying to survive together while they live without their mommies and daddies for the first time. sometimes those people will remind you that it is not best on your body to eat taco bell five meals in a row, and sometimes you will go pick them up from the bar at 3 a.m. when you have a test at 8:30. It is a big, sometimes uneven, list of IOU's, but just know that your friends and roommates and classmates  are your best survival resource, so, unless people are taking advantage of you, share your notes when someone has the flu, drive across town when your roommate gets locked out, and generally give kindness to others.

6. Find a keep folder. 
I really don't know how common this is but it has worked beautifully for me. Find one specific folder and label it KEEP in sharpie. In it should live things that are vital to your existence and success as a human being. I am talking passports, immunization records, lease agreements, and basically anything you have to keep for over a year and/or has nowhere else to live. It is likely that you will be moving a lot in college, from dorms to greek houses to apartments, and now all of your important things have a place to travel safely.

7. Know your professor.
These can be some intimidating people, let me tell you. But they are important and you should know them well. One entertaining way to accomplish this is trying to decide (nonverbally) what your professor's spirit animal is. If you think it might be any kind of reptile, turn in your assignments quietly, ask for help when you need it in a very polite and professional way, and go about your own business. If you are dealing with, say, a six week old lab puppy, it would be a good idea to utilize office hours and get to know them a little.

8. Your professors are not out for anything but your success. 
Sometimes this may not seem to be the case, but keep in mind that they likely have several hundred students to keep track of and grade tests for, and they have a hard time giving you the benefit of the doubt for your sickness during your test when the kid in front of you used the 'my grandma died' excuse for the fifth time this semester. They want your success, but most of the time, they need you to leave their class with knowledge to do an actual job in the real world, so they don't let a lot skate by. Be an adult, turn things in on time, and DO NOT MAKE EXCUSES.

9. Learn how to write a professional e-mail. Use it when in doubt about how to talk with someone, and use it with anyone who is above you.
*Note: Always review the syllabus before e-mailing a professor, they aren't going to waste the time to reiterate policies that they, quite literally, handed to you. Here is an example.

Professor,

I have been sick this week and missed your class on Tuesday. After catching up with a classmate, I learned we had a pop quiz. I notice that your absence policy is that with documentation, I can make that up. I would really love to come in during office hours and retake it if you were willing to look at my doctors note. Thank you for your time,

Emily

*Note: If you would text someone what you are saying, it isn't formal enough for a professional e-mail.

10. Germs
If you live in a dorm, I hate to say it, you are living in a giant container of germs. A fun, social, friendship -y container, but that's what it is. Befriend Lysol wipes, and wash your hands a lot.

11. Get enough sleep. 
Know yourself and know how much sleep you need to simply survive, to function, and to thrive. My dear friend Hannah is the kind of person that can get about 90 minutes of sleep and look and act like gold the next day, and i am more of the eight or nine hour kind of person. When I don't get enough sleep the night before a test, I don't do well on the test. My roommates affectionately refer to me as the grandmother of our household due to my early bedtime, but that's alright.

12. Studying can be done in thousands of ways, so find your favorite. 
I really think one  of the most common problems with incoming college student success is that no one has ever taught you how to study. People think that it is just reading the book, and it isn't. Studying is active, not passive. Here are some ways that I have studied over the last four years, choose your favorites.

-Reading the book and taking notes, then make sure that your class notes and your book notes line up and aid each other in explaining the topic.
-How would you explain this to a kindergartner? If you can't, you probably don't know it well enough.
-Color code. When I took biology I hung color coded diagrams around my room with the different systems of the body. If done early enough before a test, I could take a quick gander around the room every few hours and they would slowly sink in. When I took the test, I was like, oh yes, the respiratory system was the blue, and I had a much easier time labeling and describing.
-Quizlet and StudyBlue are a few of my favorite online resources. Conveniently, they both have iPad (and probably iPhone) apps and can be utilized for the few minutes while you wait for a class, or before meeting with a friend, or for ten minutes while you lay in bed at night.
-Read a paragraph out of the book and then either speak or write a summary of it. If you can't do that, you probably don't know the book well enough.
-*BONUS: If you are tech savvy, figure out how to upload study guides to trivia crack. Then show me how.

13. Purchase durable winter element clothes if you live in any state north of Texas. 
Here I am really thinking about your feet if they have to walk through several blocks of snow (Hint: Don't wear vans.), a winter coat, and an ear band. Gloves and such are also valuable, but generally, my feet, torso, and ears always get cold first. "Because I was cold" is not an acceptable reason your professor will take for not coming to class.

14. Be organized. 
Dorm rooms can be some downright terrifying places. Between the two people who have never been on their own to decorate before, the fact that they may have exact opposite tastes and preferences, and trying to cram two people's belongings in an 11x11 room, you can pretty easily lose yourself in them, both your physical person and your sanity. Don't keep things you don't need (don't take that winter coat and boots until your shorts and swimsuits can go home) and give the things you do have a certain home in your room. If it doesn't have a home, you may not need it.

15. Do fun stuff.
You should certainly do the normal fun things, like go to university sporting events and attend events with your floor and go get the free ice cream in the union on a random Wednesday. But you should also go out on a Monday when the Royals win the world series, pick the sport you are worst and and play it in intramurals (as long as your teammates are not the university's athletes) and play Hostages with your floor mates at 3 a.m.

16. Know the reality of your professors.
You are going to have way more Minerva McGonagall's than you will Dolores Umbridge's. Promise.

17. Take time for yourself. 
Take an HOUR each day and do something you enjoy. That could feel kind of generous some weeks, but if you strive for that, that's good. Studying for 12 straight hours will not help you remember the information, you need a break. Watch one episode of your choice of show on Netflix while you eat breakfast and dinner, go outside and shoot baskets, read your favorite guilty pleasure teenage novel, play trivia crack against your grandmother. (Although if you are studying you are likely using a computer, so try to do things during your time without a screen) It's going to feel like you can't spare the time, but if you don't take time for yourself, you won't have a yourself to do any studying at all.

18. Listen to your mom.
In all reality, this probably should have been number one. Listen to her when she suggests sticking an umbrella in your backpack, listen when she tells you that this boy you're dating probably isn't good for you, listen to her when she tells you how to get that stain out. Listen. To. Your. Mom.

19. Appreciate home. 
You'll probably learn this on your own, but being away gives you a whole new appreciation for your home and the people that inhabit it. Spend time with them, cherish them, and visit them whenever you can.

20. Moving sucks.
However, between the ages of 18-22, it's almost inevitable that you'll end up moving at least twice, and it is a giant pain in the rear. Moving brings out the stress in everyone, so if your pals are moving, offer to lend a hand (even if you're like me and can only carry light things like books and houseplants) Just know that everyone is a little more tense on moving day, especially if people are moving you, because you have to make a lot of rash decisions. Put on your patience panties and just know that.

21. Understand laundry and it's complicated details. 
By this, I basically mean that a tide-to-

go pen should be carried with you at all times, and when all else fails, hairspray gets pretty much any stain out. I have used this multiple times. You will be surprised at how often you play the 'how long can I go without doing laundry' game, and you don't want to ruin something just because you don't need to do laundry.

22. At least once in college, take a road trip. 
Pretty much the only way to take a road trip is to develop excellent bonds and teamwork skills with your companions, and it is almost inevitable that these will come in the most ridiculous, inconvenient, and stupid possible ways. Running out of gas in western Kansas, trying to read an atlas together, and then probably trying to fold the atlas. Seriously, take them.

23. Ask for help when you need it. 
College is the first time in your life where you are learning how to do things on your own, and EVERYONE has questions. Do some research to figure things out on your own, but be okay with asking for help. Much of the time, you will learn twice as much if you take the time to ask, after you've given it your best effort. This goes for assignments, your dorm or apartment maintenance and upkeep, and generally, anything involving insurance.

24. Don't put too much pressure on yourself. 
People like to say that college is the best four years of your life, which I think can be a load of bologna. There are fun things, like lake swimming on the first Kansas day above 60, or eating donuts at three in the morning with your best friends. But there are a lot of stressors, too. Dealing with difficult professors or group members, the test that makes or breaks your grade, and wondering if you will ever understand what a co-pay is. (For the record, I still don't.) Like any stage of life, it has it's ups and downs, but the less pressure you put on yourself to make it perfect, the better it will be.

Ten Things I Learned From My Mom

1. Always be more kind to people than they deserve
I can't count the number of times I watched my mom converse with people who had different beliefs than she did, or weren't very nice to her, etc. She always treated them with as much kindness as she could physically muster up, and then just kept right on moving.

2. Be the bigger person.
My mom used to tell my sister and I this when there was someone at school who was bothering us and she was trying to teach us it really wasn't worth being upset about. There was one particular person throughout my middle school and high school career that really bothered me, and that was always the advice my mom gave. One day my senior year of high school, I came home and flung my backpack across the room and screamed "I am TIRED of being the bigger person." - but even after being out of the house for four years, I still try my best to do this.

3. Always eat the center of the cinnamon roll first.
One of the only days my sister and I ate hot lunch at school was on the days our school had cinnamon rolls and chili, and it was pretty much only for the cinnamon rolls. She always used to tell us to eat the center of the cinnamon roll first just in case you are too full to finish it all. High level, this translates to enjoying life's little gifts.

4. The goal of makeup is to make it look like you aren't wearing any (except stage makeup, which my mom also did) 
Thanks to my mom, I am forever saved from looking back on middle school pictures that make me want to disown myself, at least in the makeup department. My mom spent considerable time teaching me how to put on makeup so that I didn't look like a clown, and even more time doing my dance hair and makeup for close to 15 years. She probably put more time into my appearance than I actually spent onstage, but it was always perfect.

5. How to put other people first
My mom packed my lunch for the entire 13 years I was in school. Although there were days when it tested my desire for my independence, she set an example of service. When my sister and I were in middle school, one of our closest family friends had their youngest son Luke, and their two older kids spent quite a bit of time with us. My mom made sure everyone got to school (a big deal considering we went to different schools) to their appropriate activities, and had their homework done. She also was responsible for getting about half our neighborhood on the bus at some point in my childhood, and when I look back at that group of kids, it's amazing she did that successfully. I also know that it is not my mom's favorite thing on the planet when she has to take me to the airport to let me go overseas for a week or two at a time, but she lets it happen because she knows how much I love traveling overseas and everything I've learned form those trips.

6. Being present is more important than having presents. 
My mom (or dad, if he was off work) was at every school field trip, every event, and volunteered for everything my sister and I did. I know that sometimes these were not the most fun events, but she knew how excited it made me, even all the way through high school, to see my mom show up for things that were important to me or that I worked hard on.

7. Where the lettuce is, and other stupid phone calls
Another running joke in our family is that I actually once called my mom at work to ask her if we had any lettuce at home. Seriously. But since I've come to college, I've called to ask everything from where things are in the grocery store, about various lights on in my car, and, most recently, calling from Virginia about various concerning urinary symptoms. She takes them in stride.

8. How to chase my dreams, even if it feels like I'll never get there.
Over the last four years my mom has answered more than one phone call with me in hysterics when I got a D on a Human Body test, was so frustrated with molecular biology, got rejected from several grad schools, and finally, when I spent months waiting to hear from my first choice graduate school and got so frustrated when everyone else knew where they were going. It was, of course, well worth the wait when we finally found out that I got into Creighton while sitting in a restaurant in Kansas City and my mom screamed so loud I choked on my french fries.

9. Service. 
When Brenna died, my parents opened our home to hundreds of kids in and out all weekend long who truly just needed a place to be with other people who were grieving. My mom was always sure to keep pizza and snacks in the house in case anyone got hungry, but generally left us alone and didn't bother us unless we needed something. Since then, many of my friends have commented on how big of a help it was for them to have somewhere to go in those first few rough, painful days. Last January when we went to Virginia for my uncle's funeral, my mom did everything she could to help my family with whatever was necessary. I watched the way that she can observe a situation, see what needs done, and do it effortlessly just to make someone else's life easier.

10. How she's made me want to be a mom
Although that isn't quite in the cards yet, moving out of the house and spending time with my parents since then has made me want to have kids of my own so that I can have stories of my own that they now share with me. We laugh now when my mom tells the story about how when we built our house when I was two, and were in the process of moving on Mother's Day, I cried because I wanted to go home. When we went to Disneyworld when I was 8, my sister and my mom rode some of the smaller rides while my dad took me on the roller coasters. My sister found that the It's a Small World ride was very enjoyable, and to this day, you can't sing that song around my mom without her getting a horrified look on her face just remembering the number of times she had to listen to that song.

I am excited to have the chance to love other people like she's loved me (my own kids or not) and serve them like she's served me, and set even half of the good example she's set for me.

Thank you mom, for all you do for Megan and I. We are so lucky.