I Don't Know About You...But I'm Feeling 32...

As much as I loathe Taylor Swift in every form and fashion, I kinda had to steal that title from her. I know it’s actually 22, but I ain’t felt 22 since I was about 12. Right now I have the back of a 62 year old, I don’t sleep, and I tend to eat Ibuprofen and melatonin like candy. Life can be a pain in the ass.

If you look in my high school yearbook, or one of those Jostens Scrapbook things from Senior year (Yes, I’m that Old…), I’m pretty sure there is a section about what you’ll be doing 5 years from now and 10 years from now, and so on. I distinctly remember that where I am now was not part of that plan. I think I had planned to have a home and a family and be stable in my career by 25.

Let’s all laugh together.

When I was 25, I was just starting law school. I had taken a while to decide what I wanted to do with my life. And truthfully, my life has always been a bit of a sideways endeavor. By that I mean, it’s never played out like I thought or hoped it would at the time. When I was in law school, I never, ever, ever planned on doing work for the DPA. Yet, here I am, in all my glory, a public defender. I guess the old adage about “If you wanna hear God laugh, just make a plan,” is true after all. Where I am is not at all where I thought I’d be.

I thought by this age, I’d have a couple kids, a steady career, and a husband who adores me. Turns out, I’m divorced, men tend to run from me, my career may be steady, but it rocks like a boat in a hurricane most days, and I have no children, the one thing I wanted most in the world. Instead, I am the proud mother of a German Shepherd and a Basset Hound. Both of which are moody, clumsy, and full of personality – just like me.  They keep me entertained so I guess that’s enough right now. But who knows what the future has in store. Only God knows that.

Anywho, I thought that I would celebrate my big 3-2 by looking back on my 32 years. I mean, it’s not that spectacular. I lead a pretty boring life, but I’d like to think that I’ve accomplished a few things worth talking about.

Maybe, maybe not. You can be the judge of that.

When I turned 30, I was in a completely different place in life. I had a husband, I was days away from finding out that I had passed the bar exam with a new career ahead. I had a beautiful home (which took YEARS to finish, and I still wasn’t done) that I had picked out and remodeled every inch of, perfecting every tiny thing to suit my taste. I had great friends, I had a great family, and it looked like the future was getting brighter by the day. But, I knew something was missing. From the outside looking in, you’d never seen two happier people. But, I knew I wasn’t happy. I was going through the motions. I was forcing something that would never be right. I was putting on a face. Which, sadly, I had become talented at doing.

Frank and I were two different people. We had few to no common interests. We liked movies, and we liked to eat. It was a constant battle to find a compromise, which usually ended with one of us just going along for the other and forcing happiness. Neither wanted to admit it, but we made a mistake. We let the fan club and the need to be with somebody overshadow what we really needed – to be with someone who understood the other and accepted that person for who they were, without the constant need to try to change them – which had essentially been what we had become.

Sometimes, things just aren’t meant to be. And it wasn’t fair to continue lying to myself anymore. I’d been unhappy for a while and it was time to just be the people we were, without judgment, ridicule, or fighting to be different.

The problem with that for me, unfortunately, was I didn’t know who the hell I was.

Go figure.

For 30 years, I had been a puppet. Anybody could be the master – if you had a task for me, I aimed to please.

I. Never. Said. No.

Work shifts, volunteer boards, community events, bridal showers, weddings, baby showers, concerts, fundraisers, etc. – whatever you needed from me, whoever or whatever you needed me to be – I was on board. If you needed me to make 6 casseroles by tomorrow morning, I was your girl. If you needed me to work your shift – I got you. If you needed me to plan your party and spend a fortune even though you didn’t even show up and I lost a fortune – it was cool, no worries. As my dad would (not so) lovingly say, I rode every bus that stopped. And I needed that acceptance. I needed to be needed. I had conditioned myself to be what was needed, what was loved, what was celebrated. I worried about my reputation. I worried about everything. I was that person who constantly asked myself “what would people think?’ or “what would people say?” I was paranoid that if I said ‘no’ that Heaven forbid, nobody would love me anymore. I was becoming exhausted, and way too old before my time.

Now, having said that, I will tell you that I still ask those questions, and I still worry. But, I worry a lot less. And do you know why? Because I am comfortable with who I am. For the first time in my life, I know exactly who I am.

Who am I? I AM SO GLAD YOU ASKED THAT. Let me continue.

When I was in law school, I really should have done less coming home and more studying. Instead, I put the people I loved, the people who were important to me, before myself. I didn’t do as well as I could have because I kept up that idea that I had to say Yes. I had to be there for everything and everyone. I couldn’t live with myself if I thought I disappointed someone. I traveled home between final exams for funerals. I would fill every weekend with birthday parties or weddings or community and church events and I never slowed down.

By the second year, it was catching up with me. I had to have an emergency appendectomy. I took about 4 days of recovery time. I was back to school on Monday. By the third year, my gallbladder was on its last legs and less than a month before my law school graduation, I had to have surgery to remove it as well. Yet, I never really quit. That is one thing I have never known how to do – give up, on anything or anyone. People almost always end up giving up on me before I give up on them.

So fast forward two years after graduation, when I finally pass not one, but two, bar exams, and finally feel like I’ve accomplished something with my life, shortly after, I began to feel like a complete failure. There I was, doing the one thing I said I’d never do – getting divorced. I was gonna be a “one and done” kinda gal. Yet, again, I say, “if you wanna hear God laugh, just make a plan.” I was shunned by people I thought loved me. Whom I thought would support me and be there and be my friend no matter what. In times of trials and trouble, you learn who your friends are. I had to pick myself up for the most part. My own mother didn’t even support me. That was one of the toughest times of my life, and I became a stronger person because of it. This is where I started learning who I was.

First and foremost, I learned that sometimes, you have to put yourself first. You have to do what you feel is best for you, and what makes you happy, because life is too short and happiness is too rare. For the first time in my life, I did something completely for me, no one else. I needed to figure out who I was, what I liked, what I wanted out of life, without trying to please someone else, or 20 other people for that matter.

In order to do this, I had to find some solitude. I had to find some place to go that was mine. I bought a little camper on Norris Lake and didn’t tell anybody. I would escape there on the weekends and disappear, just hoping for a bit of relief. Somewhere I could be at peace, because peace was something I had been missing in my life. I realized I had spent so much time pleasing other people, doing what I was told, or what I thought would make someone else happy, that I had completely lost focus on what made me happy. I ended up becoming part of a family there on the lake, spending time with people who liked me for who I was, even though I was still figuring that out. Even something as simple as figuring out if I liked the lake and the water – I figured out that I loved it. I found this whole other life and this whole group of people that helped put my broken pieces back together, and for that I will forever be grateful.

Here is something else I learned about myself – I like tattoos. No, I LOVE them. I have 8 now. In just over a year, I have accumulated all 8. And… I have a list of at least 5 more (Sorry Mother and Aunt Robin, but I know you still love me!) Do you know why I love them? Because I can tell a story with them. I can live out my journey with them. I can remind myself every day what I’ve been through and how strong I am, just in case I forget. One of my most favorites is my largest tattoo, a phoenix, with the words “still I rise.” I’m a huge fan of this story, the myth that the Phoenix rises from the ashes more beautiful than before. I identify with this so much because I have risen from the ashes. I have walked through the fire to be what I am now. I have sacrificed bits of my soul to be the person I am today. And I am so proud of me.

Something else I learned about me – I like the taste of beer. And I like bars. And that doesn’t make me a bad person. I like Pat’s Snack Bar.  I like to support my friends when they play music. I like to have a beer on a hot day at the lake while I’m floating around. I also like Bourbon – as any true Kentuckian – and this also doesn’t make me a bad person. It means I like the taste of something. It means I get enjoyment from atmosphere and from social drinking. I am not a drunkard, I am not an alcoholic, and I am not addicted to anything. Except maybe Diet Mountain Dew and Bang Energy drinks, but that’s another story.  

Here is the most important thing I learned – I don’t have to change who I am to please anyone. The right people will love who I am, regardless. I am a great person, but am I going to take the time to explain why, or try to prove that to anyone? No. If you know me, then you know my character, you know who I am, and hopefully, you know my worth. If you know me, and you don’t know any of those things, then that’s not my problem. If you don’t know me, and you judge me based on the opinions or gossip of others, then that is also not my problem. But the people who know me, they know who I am, they know what I bring to the table, and they love me for it.

There’s a random meme on Facebook that says something like “someone who has known you 3 months can have better intentions for you than someone you’ve known 3 years.” That’s the truth. You know who I spend most of my time with Monday through Friday? People in my office and some of the staff and the staff in court security at the Perry County courthouse. They have known me at best a year, some less than 5 months. But you know what, they are my family. They know who I am. They do their best to love me and to protect me and pick me up when I’m down. And I have no doubts that any of them would help me if I needed it. They already do. They feed me, make me laugh, and they cheer me up when I have tears in my eyes. They leave notes on my car or hide notes in my dockets. That’s the best I can expect from anyone, to want what’s best for me and to help me through my bad days without expecting anything in return.  And for that, I am both blessed and grateful.

I still haven’t really got to who I am, which I have figured out over the past couple years. But let me tell you, I am something else. Besides being an awesome person with a huge heart that does anything and everything I can to be loyal to and take care of the people important to me (and even those not so important to me):

I. Am. A. Hot. Southern. Mess.

And I’m not talking about my looks. Nope. I am talking about my glowing personality, my quirks, the things that make me tick. I forget to eat. I forget to breathe sometimes. I’m late every day of my life.

Every. Single. Day.

For anything. Everything. I am literally never on time. People who know me know this about me and they adjust accordingly. I thought it was a phase but, no, this is apparently just who I am as a person. But the weird thing is, even though I am late and scatterbrained, I am actually well organized. I like things in its place. Well, everywhere except my car. I live out of my car and it looks most of the time like I haul a bunch of toddlers around, but I don’t, it’s just me and all my messed up glory.

Also, I dry my hair with my car heater. If its summer, I just don’t dry it. That’s how little I care. Can I? No, because I’m usually late. But if its winter, hell yeah, drying my hair, putting my makeup on in my car. Whatevs. This is me, take me or leave me. You know what else, half the time I don’t wear makeup. Again, this is how little I care. I just don’t. If you don’t like me without it, why would you like me with it? Do I enjoy dressing up and putting on nice clothes and makeup and looking like an actual human being and not a homeless person? YES! I DO. When I have time. Do I have a lot of that to throw around? Generally, no. We’ve went over that.

You know what else, my clothing style is about as effed up as it can get. I don’t follow trends. I barely follow a pattern of any kind. I like Lilly Pulitzer. I have a closet full. It’s bright and fun and you know what else? THAT SHIT IS EXPENSIVE. I also have a closet full of flannel. I LOVE FLANNEL. Gimme flannel and jeans and boots and a good pocketknife, and I am the happiest person on earth. I feel like an accomplished human. Is that how I dress for court? No. I gotta try to look like a lady. I can pull it off, but it ain’t really my fave. You know what though, I ain’t really a lady, and when I open my mouth, that’s pretty clear. I do love dresses. Weird, I know. But that’s me, the weirdo. And proud of it. You know why? Because I know there is literally not another person on this earth like me.

When I say I ain’ t a lady, I’m like a Miranda Lambert song – and let’s face it, she’s my idol – comfortable in her own skin, proud of who she is, not fat but not a stick, unapologetically herself, and that is who I strive to be. In her song “Only Prettier” she says, “I got a mouth like a sailor and yours is more like a Hallmark card.” It’s me, I am the sailor, at times anyway. Do I watch my wording around people? Yes, because I am a respectful adult who appreciates and respects others. I adjust accordingly to my company because that’s polite, and I try to always be polite. But if you are what I would call good company, you’re not surprised at my shortcomings with language (looking at you, psych court peeps).

And, Yes, I did mention a pocketknife earlier. I almost always pack a pocketknife. You never know when you gonna have to shank somebody. You just don’t. And the people who know me and travel with me always make me giggle because if we’re going to a concert and we get about halfway to the door they will say, “did you remember to leave your knife?!” Most of the time, I do, in fact, remember. But if you didn’t know that about me, well, surprise.

You know what else I love? Driving. I love nothing better than to roll my windows down, throw my sunroof back, crank the tunes and drive, as long as my legs (and my bladder) can stand it. I literally don’t care. I have always loved driving. I love being on the road. Day, night, whenever. I feel at home on the road. I guess I take that after my dad, like most other things.

I like to talk. I don’t care, I will talk to anyone. I like to make people laugh. I like to cheer people up. I like to be nice to the fast food window worker or the Wal-Mart greeter; I just like to be friendly. Unless you’re not friendly, and then, I don’t really care. But for the most part, I will talk to random strangers like I’ve known them my whole life. I’m weird. I get it. I don’t care.

I am one of the most spontaneous people you will meet. If you called me right now and said, “Hey, lets drive to Destin, I wanna see the ocean!” I’d be like “yeah I’ma need about 20 minutes to get ready and we gotta drop my dogs off with Grandpa Dan on the way.” If you called me and said, “OMG ZZ TOP IS PLAYING IN TWO HOURS IN KNOXVILLE” I would be out the door and in my car before you told me where in Knoxville they were playing and if we could even get tickets. I mean, times’ a wastin’. If you called and said “YO! We gonna fly to Denver next week to see the snow,” I’d start looking for flights. Because I’m a firm believer that spontaneity is one of the best ways to live. And I live by that rule more than you know. It’s some of the best memories you can create, ever.

Fun facts about me: I love cowboy boots. And stars. And music. And concerts. And festival foods. Cigars (yes, I will smoke a cigar, don’t judge me). And sunsets. And sunrises, especially on the beach. I like to travel. I like to cross things off my bucket list. I break out into song and dance quite often, and the majority of the time, I don’t even know I’m doing it. Just absent mindedly I hear a beat and I start dancing – it don’t matter if it’s the grocery store or Wal-Mart or the Pilot station while I’m looking at candy bars and gummy worms. That is just who I am as a person.

I really just like to feel…alive. And like I’m living. Everybody gets so caught up in working and life and stress and problems and pain and grudges – JUST. BE. GRATEFUL. You’re alive. You’re breathing. You have things other people would kill to have.

Life isn’t perfect. People will hurt you. People will leave you. Sometimes they apologize, sometimes they don’t. Sometimes they come back, other times, they won’t. People will lie to you, they will use you, and they will take advantage of a broken heart that still tries to be a good heart and love to the fullest. You get sick. You lose loved ones. You lose friends. You lose yourself. Life is a series of unfortunate events, but it is also beautiful. It. Is. Precious.

A few weeks ago, a person I considered a friend, a person I knew, died unexpectedly in a car accident. (Side note – his father is the reason I pack a pocketknife. In his words, “every girl oughtta pack a pocketknife.”). He left behind a young son, a mom, a dad, a brother, and a host of other family members and friends that loved him. He was a good man. A good police officer. A good father. A good friend. A good life, that was taken too soon. Our days are not guaranteed. His death has weighed on me every day since he left this world.

Now. If I died tomorrow, I would leave nothing behind. No children, no legacy, no fortune, no famous accomplishment that the world would mourn for.  My goal, however, is to live a life that people will remember me for, outside of those things. I may never have children, even though I would love to be a mother. I may never be so good at my job that I help set precedents, and it’s likely that I won’t. I may never hold a political office that does great works, and it’s very probable that I won’t. But if I am remembered for anything, I hope it’s that I was kind. That I loved people. That I had a great personality. That I helped people. That I made someone’s life better, or easier, or someone had a better day because of me. That I loved hard, harder than most, and that got the people I loved through bad days. My motto is, and has always been, to live the way you want to be remembered. I hope that’s true for me.

In addition to the unexpected loss of a friend, I lost a very important person in my life this year – Jr., my best friends dad. He was a character. He treated me like his own. He was sarcastic, and full of spunk and personality, and I treasured every minute I spent getting to know and love him. He left behind quite a legacy, and quite a family, some of the most important people in my life, and I am forever grateful for the lesson that I learned from him – Never. Give. Up. Fight until you can no longer fight. He knew who he was, what he was capable of, and he never lost sight of that. I want to be more like him. I’m so glad he got to see Killian before he passed. Killian is my nephew, my best friends’ son who was born in May, and has brought me so much joy. I never knew how full my heart could be until holding him. There is a lot of back story about that statement, but suffice it to say, he’s just real important. And if nothing else, it was a good year because he was born.

All in all, I’m pretty proud of my 32 years. I’ve made mistakes. I’ve tried to learn from them. I’ve said the wrong thing. I’ve pushed people away. I’ve needed too much. I’ve not needed enough. I have worried my friends. I have worried my family. I have made bad decisions. I’ve also made good ones. I have failed at things, and I have worked so hard to correct those failures and succeed – even with everyone telling me how hard it was. I have let people walk on me, and I have walked on people. I have not lived the perfect, most religious way. But I’m trying. I’m trying to learn to depend on God, to pray more, to be the person He knows I can be and is building me to become. I’m trying to just… live.

My goal for the next year is to just continue to live. Be who I am, and live unapologetically for being that person. I’m going to travel when I can, and maybe cross a few more things off the bucket list (pretty sure I’m gonna go to Vegas and see Aerosmith, just saying). I’m going to be the best person I can be, and help others be the best people they can be. Keep learning. Keep growing. Keep searching for answers in God and allowing His blessings to find me. Stop worrying about the people who don’t like me, who don’t value me, who have left me behind. Start worrying about me, because I value me. I know who I am. I know that being alone is better than being with someone who doesn’t accept who you are, and who doesn’t love the crazy things about you that you love about yourself, and doesn’t appreciate or respect who you are. I have lived through those things, multiple times. Right now, my life is about learning to trust God and HIS plan, not mine. Because I know His will be far greater than mine would have been.

So where am I after the last couple years of self discovery and 32 years of living and learning? I am standing on my own two feet. For the first time in my life. I don't need anyone. I got my job on my own. I represent my clients mostly on my own, with the occasional help from my awesome work family. I do a good job. I work hard. I have my own home. I pay my own bills. I am out of debt for the most part. I have two happy, healthy, beautiful four-legged girls that love me unconditionally. I have an array of friends, but I have a small circle. I have friends who are family. I have a wonderful family. I am blessed so much more than I deserve. This life has humbled me, yet strengthened me. I know who I can trust. I know who I can't. I know who talks about me behind my back, who starts rumors, and who tries to dull my shine. I smile at them, too. I live my life for me. I get my tattoos for me. I am a work in progress when it comes to losing weight and eating healthy, but I have lost 25 pounds (give or take) this year and I have kept it off. Do I still have goals? Of course. Everyone should have goals. Everyone should keep setting goals and crushing them, but for you, no one else. I don't try to impress anybody. I just do me. I'm loud, my laugh carries, but I don't care. God gave it to me for a reason. If you don't like me, if you have problems with me, that's for you to sort through. My life is mine. I have worked my ass off to get where I am, I have earned where I am. Am I a size 2? nah. Do I care? nah. Will I ever be? hellllllllll to the nah. But I know my worth. I know my heart. I know who I am. And for the most part, I love myself, more than I ever have, and that love will only grow stronger. Of that, I am sure. I'm still a work in progress, with most things, and I know there is always room for improvement, so as long as I love me and I don't forget what I'm capable of, as long as I keep grinding, I will never stop growing and being better. That's one of the beautiful things about this life.

My best advice after the life I've lived in 32 years – just be yourself and live your story. Be the person no one thought you could be, not even you. Don’t be ashamed of who you are, be proud, be bold. Don't be afraid to act silly. Laugh often. Laughter can cure so many of life's problems. Don't apologize for who you are, where you came from, or where you're going. Wear red even though your mother hates it, because you like it and it's your color. Get the tattoo. Buy the shoes. Book the trip. BE KIND. Always. Don't hold grudges. Forgive, and allow yourself to be forgiven. Life is so short, and everyday could be the day you lose someone. The day you see them for the last time. Don't leave things unsaid. Tell people you love them. Tell people what they mean to you. Love hard, even though it hurts sometimes. Be an example. Be a light to whomever you can, whenever you can. If you have children, be thankful for them, not all of us are blessed, not yet, anyway. Never back down, never give up, and never let fear keep you from loving someone, or being loved, or reaching your goals. Follow your own path. And if you need a good pep talk, I’m always here.

Deuces.

Welcome to the World Baby Dave

Killian Ray Sandlin. That’s what they named you. Against my wishes, and generous offer of financial support.

Sort of.

Don’t get me wrong, I love your middle name, because you were named after two of the greatest men I have ever known and loved, your great grandfather, Billy Ray Day, and your grandfather, Raymond. But your first name; Lawd, Jesus. It just hasn’t grown on me yet. It wasn’t what I expected. But I love you anyway, so don’t be angry with me. I begged your mother to change it. I offered money. I did a sacrifice to the Gods. Well, maybe not that last one. But the thought crossed my mind. Anything that I could think of. But, alas, you went home in an outfit that had Killian printed on it. And you, baby boy, were beautiful, despite the name I found less than favorable. So, I took to calling you Baby Dave. Your mother said that was acceptable. Sorry in advance.

Allow me to introduce myself: I’m your Aunt Jess. Not by blood, unfortunately, but your mother is my best friend in the entire world. When I say best friend, I mean, she’s the Thelma to my Louise. The Monica to my Rachel. The Blanche and Rose to my Dorothy and Sophia. You’ll get all these references at some point in your life, but right now you just need to know that even though she ain’t blood, she’s my family. You will need some background on this. I’ll start there.

Picture it. Wooton. 2015. It was late one night. Your dad’s cousin Timmy had bought a house with his soon to be wife, Maddie. We were all hanging out, looking at the house.  Your mother was leaning against the wall. ANGRY. And when I say angry, I mean angry. Her RBF (I’ll explain that when you’re older, too) was wayyyyyyy off the charts that night. We made eye contact. OH. DEAR. GOD. She hates me. I can tell. She must think I have been flirting with Dave. That’s a no. Wonder why she don’t like me? Hrmmm. Maybe I can be funny. Tried that. Eye contact. NOPE. That didn’t work. Ok, I guess she’s just gonna hate me then. Moving on.

Your dad and Timmy were partners in a local café. Your family is super close, and it’s a great and beautiful thing. They kinda took me in, which is even better. That’s how we all became friends. Your mother came into the café one night when I was there. She was wearing a Brantley Gilbert concert tee shirt. SCORE. I KNOW WHAT WE CAN TALK ABOUT. OMG. YAY. You will never know this side of me because it is now long gone, but I used to hate when people didn’t like me. Now, well, hahahahaha. Let’s all laugh together.

Anywho. I try talking to your mother again. I strike up a conversation. About concerts. Perfection. SUCCESS. This time goes much better. We talk all about our love for concerts and music. Next thing I know, me, her, your Aunt Ashley and Maddie were bonding over a mushmellon campfire until 1 in the morning at the café. I wasn’t partaking in the mushmellon because I find them gross and not delightful in the least. I was the only one not partaking in the mushmellon campfire, but the important part of the story is that we were making great conversation AND I MADE HER LAUGH. Because, well, I’m funny. Hysterical, really, you will see.

DID WE JUST BECOME BEST FRIENDS?! Yep. We did. I’ll let your mother school you on that reference, someday. HINT: she’s a HUGE fan of the movie this quote is from.

So anywho. I don’t know when it happened. That night was just the start. But somehow, in a very short time, between a very unhealthy addiction to Lilly Pulitzer, concerts, memes, 90s country music, and sarcasm – your mother and I became best friends. It’s like one day I met her, and the next day, I couldn’t live without her. I didn’t know how I managed to survive without having her in my life all those years. Like, she got me. She just automatically knew who I was. Like she peered her eyes into my soul or something just as insane. That was 4 years ago. Now, we’re just family. I attend family functions and its accepted. She’s my sister, and I love her. I would take a bullet for her, jump in front of a moving car, pretty much anything I could do to save her, and I’d do it without thinking twice. That’s a weird thing to say, I know. But, it’s true. This is the emotional part of the story. The joke is on your mother if she is reading this right now because she hates it when I’m emotional, and even more when I make her emotional. The day you were born, she told me the night before that if I got emotional she was kicking me out of the room. She’s a tad bit moody sometimes. Super dramatic. Sorry, kiddo, you get to live with that.

So here goes. Your mother has seen me through some rough times. Divorce. Heartbreaks. Sickness. Failures. Deaths. New jobs. Happy times. Every major life event I’ve had in the last 4 years pretty much, and there have been many. MANY. This is how great your mother is. The day I was supposed to get my bar exam results back, she and your Aunt Ashley and I went to Nashville. I knew I was going to get bad results and I wanted to be somewhere happy. We left early. I got the results around noon. We were in the mall. I failed. They sat with me while I cried. They gave me pep talks. They sat with me at George Jones’ grave while I cried some more. Your mother picked up my pieces. And it wouldn’t be the first time. When I passed the bar, we celebrated. We have best friend pictures. When I got divorced, she got me through. When I had my first heartbreak thereafter, she sat with me and cried again, and reminded me who I was and that it was not the end of my life. She read an uplifting book and she underlined all the quotes in it for me that she wanted me to see. She never lets me down. She did background checks on all the men who dared to talk to me. She made threats. She gave death stares. She picked up my broken pieces so many times. Now, she has a tracker on my phone and she makes sure she doesn’t lose me and I don’t die. She can reason with me and help me make decisions and most importantly, she judges me, all day err day and my clothing choices. Once she even offered to burn a skirt for me. Real friendship right there. She protects me. She loves me. She knows me inside and out, and we have a bond that I’ve only ever seen in movies. And truthfully, it is one of the best things about my life. I know that no matter what, she is a constant, and I can count on her to always be in my life. I think that’s why I love you so much. Because you came from this person who has been one of the biggest blessings in my life and who has helped me get my life back together so many times. She saved me. She saves me every day in some way. And I am there for her, just as much as I can be, and just as much as she lets me be. She will tell you that. She knows how much I love her and Dave, and your family. They are family to me. And I wouldn’t trade them for anything on earth. And I would do anything on this earth for you.

Now that you’re caught up, let’s talk about you! YAY. It was a very exciting day the day you came. Your mother told me not to be there until 10:30 but I got there a little early. Originally, I was supposed to transport your grandpa Jr. and Aunt Anna to the hospital, but as unfortunate circumstances would have it, he had to have a little procedure and had not been released from the hospital yet. So, I went over to help your Grammy Val occupy your Aunt Anna. She’s gonna read this someday, too, and probably kill me. But I wouldn’t trade her either. She was wild that day. But SO excited to meet you.  She begged for you to come on out. We were all a little anxious for your arrival, but none more anxious than Anna. She fed me more junk food than I’d eaten probably since a road trip with your mother. Gummies. Dried up yogurt things that made me want to vomit. Blueberry puffs. Reese Cups. Cow tales. Starbursts. You name it. I ate it. I also found some of it weeks later in my purse. I ate that, too. No shame.

ROCK! PAPER! SCISSORS! JESSICA! SHOOT!

JESSICA! WATCHU DRINKIN?

JESSICA! WATCHU EATIN?

WHERE YOU GET THAT GUM?

HOW YOU GET HERE?

I LIKE THAT RING, WHO BUY THAT FOR YOU?

I LIKE YOUR NECKLACE, WHO MADE DAT?

JESSICA! I BRUSH YOUR HAIR.

JESSICA! YOU HUNGRY?

I finally got to the bathroom. JESSICA!!!! WATCHU DOIN IN THERE?! YOU COMIN’ OUT? YOU PEEING? COME OUT JESSICA!!! This actually brought back memories of when your cousin Laura Jane, or as we call her, LJ was born, and Dave tried to use the bathroom until Anna beat the door down while we all laughed. So fun.

We had to leave the room for the epidural to be inserted. Anna is in charge. JESSICA! LETS GO NOW! YOU GET UP! She was a bossy little thing. I tried to get her take a nap. Many times. No dice. She brushed my hair. She gave me a tattoo with an eyeliner pen. She put makeup on me when Ashley got done giving your mother a makeover. Your mother looked dead for a minute, but it was a little funeral parlor-esque in there. She was quite hateful. I opted not to bring my pocket knife in case she tried to use it to stab your father. Dave was not on her good list there for a hot minute.

She asked me what I was drinking when I first came in. It was an energy drink, in preparation for what I knew would be a long day. Before I could answer, Grammy Val told her it was beer. Because apparently, beer is bad, but energy drinks are good. So…I became the drunk in the room, pretty much all day. Such a fun joke to tell everyone. JESSICA IS DRINKING BEER. Yes, at 10 AM. And I continuously run into things so that didn’t help the joke. Actual quote from Grammy Val, “Well, if you hadn’t drunk all that beer this morning…” No, I’d still be running into everything because I can’t stand up in an acre of ground. Drunk or sober, that’s just who I am.

At one point, I’m on my phone and I hear Grammy Val say, “Why can’t you eat that like a normal person?” Because Anna dissects her food. Cow Tales. Reese Cups. She takes it allllllllll apart and eats it separately, or not at all. But that wasn’t near as entertaining as Britt on the Fentanyl drip. Daddy Dave told us the nurses told her it would be an hour. That an hour was the ‘sweet spot.’ Of course, Grammy Val being Val says, “well, if it gets any sweeter than that…” because it was epically clear that Britt felt nothing. Nada. Zero. Zilch. And, that was much better than the alternative that we had previously seen. And maannnnnn kiddo were you slooooowwwww making it out. We waited allllllllllll day. Just like we did for LJ. About the same amount of time, maybe a little longer. I guess you just weren’t ready. But, you were so worth the wait.

I had left the hospital but when it got close to show time, your father text me to tell me to come back. I raced back to the hospital from over 10 miles away on a curvy, insane road, near dusk. I turned my flashers on, and probably ran people off the road. My brakes were hot. When I got out of the car at the hospital I was in cowboy boots and I ran all the way inside, and practically ran through the elevator wall. I crashed into it, technically, but the lady I almost fell into was nice enough to hit the button to the 3rd floor because I was trying to breathe. The elevator doors open. I ran toward the delivery room doors only to be stopped and told I wouldn’t be allowed in. ALL THAT TROUBLE AND I AM GOING TO MISS IT. I was a little upset. So was your Aunt Ashley. We tried to sneak in several ways. We failed. But hey, it’s the thought that counts.

It was a short hour or so to us, but what I imagine was a very long hour for your mother, and there you were. Several of us were waiting outside the nursery window watching for you. When they came wheeling you in, you’d have thought somebody flipped a switch outside. All of us were crying. Well, except Anna. But I could feel my heart exploding with love for you. You were so beautiful. I don’t have any children of my own. At least not at the time of this publication and the way my life goes, when you read this I will probably be the fun Aunt who has no children but who is always a good time. Maybe not. Life is funny sometimes. I just know that watching you in there, I couldn’t wait to hold you.

Once they got your mother settled, we all poured in, but it was close to the end of visiting hours, so I think you got passed around for a quick (but ever so important) 15 minutes before everyone exited. I caught the first pictures of your daddy holding you, and your Grammy and a few others, and I caught some excellent photos of you and your mama after everyone left. I was just overwhelmed with emotion holding you. I’m sure I said something meaningful and emotional at the time, but I couldn’t tell you what it was now. You were so perfect. And I knew I would love you forever.

You’ve been here three months now, and it doesn’t seem real. You can hold your head up by yourself. You can roll over by yourself. You are only soothed by the sounds of Ice Cube, thanks to your very 90s rap enthused mother. But you are my little nephew that I love and cherish and see as much as I can. I went to visit you a few weeks ago, and I sang you to sleep with Tyler Childers. Don’t worry, I will educate you on GOOD music someday. But what a wonderful feeling it was getting you to sleep and having you fall asleep on me. I would have sat there all night if I could have. Getting chosen to be your aunt and getting to watch you grow up is one of my greatest blessings.

The sad part of this story, is that not long after you were born, a short few weeks ago, we lost your grandpa. Raymond “Big Jr.” Standafer he was known as. But he loved you something fierce. He was a fighter, he was strong, and he was a good man, despite his own opinions of himself. His opinions were known to be a little skewed at times. But, he was so proud to be your Grandpa. And I know, that no matter what happens, he will ALWAYS be watching over you from above, and keeping you and LJ and all your family safe. You are so lucky to be born into the two families you were. And so, so blessed. You are so loved, kiddo. You will never know how much.

I hate to end here. It’s been a fun story to tell. But always know that I will love you and I will be here for you as long as I draw breath. You may not be my blood, but you are my nephew. I may not be a fan of your first name, but I love your guts, little man. I hope someday, by some miracle of God I am able to become a mom, and give you a little kid to play with. But, if that doesn’t happen, you will still be loved no matter what, and you will always be important to me. I am a lot of things, but loyal is one of the most important, and when I love, I love hard. It’s a blessing and a curse. But you, sweet boy, will always be one of my loves, and one of my favorite stories. Don’t grow up too fast, Aunt Jess can’t take it.  I love you big, kiddo.

Love,

Aunt Jess.

A Life Well Lived: A Tribute to Billy Ray Day

I don’t even know where to begin. I sit here with tears in my eyes, wishing so hard that it was a dream. A nightmare. People I love are hurting. People who are important to me, who feel like my family, are grieving. It still doesn’t seem like it’s even real. One of the best men to ever walk this earth has moved on to the beautiful gates of Heaven, and all who loved him are left with a gaping hole to fill.

I thought for days on what I could do for the family to bring them some peace and comfort. Flowers just wilt and die; there are only so many quilts and pictures or figurines you can make room for, which still seem to only stand as a reminder of what one has lost. So, instead, I write this, because words last forever, and words are the best gift I can give. And also, because it is so well deserved.

I haven’t known Billy Ray as long as some, but I can honestly say he touched my life, in more ways than one. I don’t think I knew how much until I was standing in line at his visitation, watching the multitude of people shuffle in and out, and realizing how many lives he had touched during his time on earth.

I guess it was around early 2015 when I started frequenting Red Light Café, which was family owned by two of Billy Ray’s grandsons, Timmy and Dave. It was a nice place to sit down and have a meal with friends and it became like an episode of Cheers to me, because no matter who in the family was working, there was always someone great to talk to while enjoying something greasy or sweet, depending on the mood. I spent so much time there, I became close with the entire family, and for the next almost 4 years, that Café and those people became an integral part of my life. Even through my divorce, none of them chose a side, but instead, respected our decision. Even when I had lost friends of 10 years and upwards of over 20 years, I never lost one member of the Day family. They never treated me differently, but loved me just as much as they ever did.

During that 4 years I was present for and well-involved in many family gatherings, including birthday parties, showers, weddings, and even the birth of the first great-grandchild, Laura Jane. I have never seen a closer, stronger, more tight-knit and loving family than the Day family. It was something to envy, but, more importantly, something to be respected and admired, and something to strive for in life. Since during that time the grandchildren and their significant others were my best friends, there were many other gatherings and nights out with us all together as well, and we all became like family. One thing I can say for sure is that when you become a part of the Day family, you’re a part of something beautiful and amazing, strong and solid, and something to forever hold on to. Over time, I grew to think of Billy Ray and Peggy like my own grandparents. I called them Granny and Grandpa, and always made it a point to talk to them a while at gatherings and we would all have a big time. Billy Ray and I would talk politics and joke about Peggy. They were the sweetest couple, and a truly wonderful example for everyone of how marriage should be.

Those few days are mostly a blur for me so I can only imagine what they were like for the Day family. From the minute I heard the news, I was completely heartbroken. I can’t even put into words what a loss this was, not only for the Day family, but the entire community, the entire county. Billy Ray was one of the most well-known and most highly respected men in the county, and for good reason. He was a faithful, loving, kind, caring, humble man, and he made a difference in the life of every person he met. He touched the lives of everyone who knew him, and even some who didn’t. That was all blatantly obvious by the number of people who rotated through his visitation.

You know, I go to a lot of visitations, or wakes, as we call them in Eastern Kentucky, far more than I would like. But, when you are raised as a politician’s daughter and you’ve worked in the public for some 10+ years, you get to know a lot of people, and you feel it is both a privilege and a duty to pay your respects. This was no ordinary visitation, however, this one was so different. This one was Grandpa Billy Ray’s. And, since losing both my own grandfathers, I was so blessed and honored to feel like a part of his family, and feel like someone he seemed to enjoy.

I got to the visitation around 6:00 p.m., with the doors opening around 5:00, and I stood in line for over an hour to talk to the family, who were gathered around this angel of a man. Others I knew stood in line up to an hour and a half. The line was continuous until around 9:00 p.m. when the funeral home was closing. There were so many people attending, that many were parking at the car wash (a long distance) and walking that far to pay their respects. Every available parking lot around and empty space (or anything remotely resembling a space) was full. As many of these as I have attended, I have honestly never seen anything like it in my life. I have never seen that many people at the funeral home. It is a testament to show how loved and respected this man really was. I can only hope that when I am called home to be with the Lord, I am as loved and admired as Billy Ray Day was.

The funeral was awful hard. Truthfully, I don’t frequent funerals. I try my best to leave it at the visitation, if possible, unless it’s my family, or someone I consider family. I’ve learned as I’ve gotten older, that time on earth is guaranteed for no one, and the older I get, the more people I continue to lose. Funerals have become harder to sit through, just watching everyone suffer.  However, if a funeral can, in fact, be a celebration of life, that was exactly what this was, a celebration of the 83 years Grandpa spent on this earth, touching the lives of so many people and building a family so precious and beautiful. I haven’t cried that much in a long time, especially all at once, but on the other hand, I have never laughed that much at a funeral either. Yet, it was as normal and loving as any laughter I have ever heard or expressed. What a grand mixture of emotions it was, but what a superb tribute this man was given.

I learned a lot about Grandpa. I learned most importantly, that nobody had a bad word to say about Billy Ray Day.

Not. One. Person.

Not. One. Bad. Word.

Let that sink in for a minute. What a magnificent accomplishment it is, and what a rare thing it is, to not have one ounce of criticism or an ill word for a man who has lived 83 years, who has been in both small business serving the public, and also a public servant in politics.

That. Speaks. Volumes.

Not that I’m at all surprised. What an extreme honor, to leave this world with no one having a cruel word to say about you, but only good thoughts and brags and a testament to the character and integrity of such a noble man. In fact, the only bad things (which are yet to be confirmed, I’ll add) was how he once (I’m going with accidentally) killed a deer on government property, or maybe (also unconfirmed) got an extra deer over tag while hunting with his grandson, and I’m not sure that even qualifies as a bad word, more like an observation of sorts. I saw so many smiles and so much laughter during the speeches given about Billy Ray. So many wonderful memories that so many people fondly hold of this man. I heard the word ‘legacy’ used to describe his life, and I don’t think another word could ever describe it more accurately.  

His grandsons and nephews, his son-in-law, and a very special friend all spoke of what a wonderful man he was, what a phenomenal and patient man he was, of all he had done for them in their lives, of all he did for the community. Billy Ray had ran a service station for 37 years, giving all he could during that time to those in the community, charging less than others would have, not worrying about money or greed, but instead, working to help the people. He also helped as magistrate of the 3^rd district, where he worked alongside my dad who was a magistrate at that time. My father has always held such high respect and admiration for him, not only as a colleague, but, as his friend, as a man of his word, as a man who worked so hard to help others, and a man who never failed to be there when he needed him. It is amazing the number of lives this man has touched. Yet, he was so humble, he had no idea how great he was or how wide his grace had spread.

I heard a lot of strong words used at his memorial – meek, mild, humble, integrity, honest, successful, loving, caring, patient, wise, faithful, devoted – all words that one can only hope to hear being used to describe themselves. Although he wasn’t there in body to hear them, I know he was there in spirit, watching over all of those grieving and celebrating his legacy. I can see him smile so big right now, so full of humility, humbled at what wonderful things people were saying about him. He had one of the biggest, best, warmest smiles on earth, and it made everyone around him want to smile. His smile lit up a room like nothing else. I will miss his smile. I will miss our conversations. I will miss his laugh. I will miss… him. He was one of a kind.

One of my favorite stories told at the funeral was how he loved to give advice. He had the biggest heart and always had this drive and will to help people in some way, no matter how small. A man with a heart like that is rare, and will be remembered and treasured throughout the test of time. He was a man with a heart so big, that he waited until the last person got there that day before he let go of his time on this earth. How strong this man was, and how much he loved his family. There is not a doubt in my mind how much. No matter what, no matter how much his patience was tested – whether a son in law tore up his vehicle, or a grandson continuously got the line tangled on his fishing reel for the ‘experienced fisherman’ – it was repeatedly said that he had the patience of Job. He was also recognized for what a faithful man of the Lord he was, as well as the faithful man he was to his family. He truly was a man to admire, in so many ways.

I heard someone say that not only was he a blessing to others, but he was also a blessed man, and how true that is. He left this world behind, being married to the love of his life for 61 years. He was a devoted husband. He raised three amazing and successful daughters, who married three wonderful men, who continued his legacy with 6 incredible and accomplished grandchildren. He built a true legacy with a fine family, a faith in God, and a love for his fellow man.

In closing, I will say that even with everything I have said here, it’s still not enough. No amount of words could completely sum up his life and legacy. I really love that word, because it fits so well. It is such an accurate representation of the 83 years he spent living such an admirable life. What other word could be used to describe such an extraordinary and phenomenal man?

A man who lived his life for others, and not himself.

A man who was self-made, and earned everything with his own two hands and an enormous heart.

A man who loved his wife, his family and his community, more than he loved himself.

A man who gave so much to others, even if it meant sacrificing things himself.

A man that throughout his 83 years touched the lives of everyone he knew and those he may have just met.

I will remember forever the effect his life and his presence had on mine. Because of him, I have some of the best people I could ever ask for in my life. Because of him, I have seen the example of how strong a family can be when you have a man with all of Billy Ray’s qualities leading the way. Because of him, I have learned the kind of person I want to be; the kind of person we should all strive to be. I can only hope to touch the number of lives he did, to have the impact on people that he did, and to make the difference in this world that he did. If only more people were like him, this world would be a much better place. There was no finer man on this earth than Grandpa. There is no finer woman walking amongst us than Granny. They are what all married couples should be. They have been a stellar example to all who know them, and have blessed all of us by just being themselves. I could only hope to someday have what those two had.

A number of years have passed since I lost my grandparents. Everyone who knows me, knows how fierce I loved my granny and what her presence (and her absence) meant in my life. I have been blessed with some of the best family of my own, but I have also been blessed with the Day family. I cannot thank them enough for treating me as a part of their family, for allowing me to see the strength and love they have first hand, and to be inspired by what commendable people they are. Every moment with your family is time well spent. It was such an honor and a privilege to know Billy Ray Day, to know his family, and I know his memory will continue to live on through all of you, and all of the people who knew and loved him. If I am ever blessed with children, I will make sure to tell them about grandpa; I will teach them to be humble and kind, to love with all their heart, to be courageous, and to always help others. And if I need any examples, I will just point to members of the Day family, for they have all of the same qualities of one of the finest men I have ever known, and one of the best role models I could ever hope to know. And I can’t wait to meet my little nephew, Killian Ray Sandlin, because I know he is going to take a lot of good qualities after his namesake.

The day of the funeral, I saw a beautiful sky and sunset, right in the dead of winter. I took that as a sign from Grandpa, that he’s OK, and he’s in a better place. This morning, I woke up to birds singing, yet another sign.

Fly high with the angels Grandpa Billy Ray, you were a blessing on this earth and I know memories of you will be cherished from now on. Thank you for all you taught me, and all you gave to me and so many others while you were here. You were the best, and I love you.

Until we meet again,

Jessica.

2018: Living My Best Life and My Worst Life - All in the Same Year

Well. Here it is almost the end of the year, and here I sit because I have been sucked into watching Birdbox. That’s probably how it’s gonna end ya know. We’re probably all going to self destruct the way the state of the world is going. But, I digress.

I haven’t written anything in a while, and I’ve missed it. Writing to me can sometimes be like breathing, there is this urgent need or I feel like I will suffocate. And when I start typing the words just flow like water from a faucet and they keep coming until I have ran out of things to say. Although sometimes that doesn’t happen in real life, as most of you know.

As most of you also know, this has been a really difficult year from me. Without a doubt, it has been the most difficult of my life. This is the year I have been tested, countless times.

I’ve been broken, multiple times.

I’ve been lied to, multiple times. Right to my face.

I’ve had my heart crushed, more than once. By people I thought would never hurt me.

I’ve been betrayed. By people I thought would never do me wrong.

I’ve been judged. For every decision I’ve made.

I’ve been left. Deserted. Abandoned. By people I thought would be in my life forever.

I cry now as I think about all the hurt and the pain I have endured. Yet, I am still going. Somehow.

Why? Some days I don’t know. But I have to believe it’s because I’m not a quitter. I’m a survivor. Always have been, always will be. Because I’m a Lewis. Because I’m a Ramey. Part Smith. Part Asher. I am made from some of the most stubborn, strong, independent people to ever walk this earth. Some days that angers me. Some days, I’m pretty grateful.

I’m not innocent in this. I am a victim of my own expectations. I always believe things, and people, to be better than they are. To be as loyal as me. To be as trustworthy as me. To be as loving as me. To be as selfless as me. Not that I’m bragging, but I am not blind to the fact that I am most of those things, and because of that I am taken advantage of, and have been for as long as I can remember. I let people take advantage of me. I like to leave people better than I found them. I like to believe that the things I do for some people may be the only good things that happen to them, and that makes it worth it.  I just love to make people’s lives better, even if it means ignoring my own. Again, not bragging, but it is a fact. All of that makes my life difficult, but there are sometimes it is rewarding. And those few times, is why I keep allowing it all to happen.  

So, let’s recap the year, shall we? The good and the bad.

Early on, I got a divorce. Everyone thought Frank and I were perfect. They were shocked. But, we had been forcing it for a while. Neither wanted to admit we weren’t happy. Neither wanted to admit we were on two different ends of the spectrum and the only things we had in common were our friends and our love for TV shows and food. That’s not enough to make a marriage last. We were good for each other for a while, but we let it last too long. We got caught up in the fan club. We got caught up in the life we both wanted, but we were too different to have that life with each other.

Now, rumors went around. Lies were told. People love to prey on the pain of others. They love to have someone to talk about. They love to speculate when they don’t know they truth. Neither of us cheated. We made a decision and it was the best for us in the end. No matter how you look at it, divorces are not pretty. They aren’t fun. They’re stressful. They’re depressing. They take a toll on your physical and mental health. But, sides were chosen. I lost friends. People wanted to believe what they wanted, without asking for the truth. They walked away and turned their backs on me, even after 10 years of friendship and me bending over backwards to help them in their time of need. They didn’t show me the same courtesy. And that’s OK. Because those people are selfish and they only worry about what they think or how they feel, and that’s not a real friend. It hurt, but I have moved on.

Next stop, a short relationship that came out of nowhere that I let almost destroy me. It happened at a rough time in my life, and I was blinded by what I had been through and my hope for the future and a lot of other things. But it was just a speed bump. A bend in the road. Something that made me stronger.

After that, I decided, I needed a break. I needed to heal. I needed to get my life together without the watchful eyes of everyone in Leslie County staring at me, especially those hoping I would ruin my life and give them something else to talk about and judge me for trying to better my life. So, I bought a camper on my favorite lake in Tennessee, next to some awesome people from Leslie County. And I did so, without telling anyone. I spent weekend after weekend, waking up to the smell of lake water and sunshine and good vibes and most importantly, peace. I was at peace. And I can’t tell you how long I had went in my life without that. So long I didn’t even know. This summer, I got my life together, at least for a little while.

Also this summer, I made a few other life changing moves.

I was sworn into the Tennessee Bar. An accomplishment I am so proud of. Someday, I will be a resident of Tennessee, I imagine. But that is a chapter for another time in my life that I am not yet prepared for.

 I also decided to sell my house. I can’t afford it, and I needed a fresh start. So I put it on the market, and I found a new house that was more my size, comfortable, and all mine. No awkward memories. More kitchen space. But the best part is, it’s away from town.

The third decision I made was to take a job as a public defender in Hazard. I work in Perry District Court. I have cut my teeth under Judge Bill Engle. And what an interesting few months that has been. I have learned a lot and I have been able to help some people. I never imagined myself as a public defender. But it’s a rewarding job, and my work crew and the people I have worked around have helped save me. I have met some amazing people who have changed my life.

During all these decisions, toward the end of summer, I started another relationship. It came out of nowhere. Totally unexpected. The best kind, I’m told. For about 3 months, it was perfect. Start to a week before the finish. We both thought it was the forever kind. The kind we’d both been missing. It was fast. It was fun. We got along great. Almost exactly alike. Never fought. Never had a problem. We just fit, for some unexplained reason. Until I woke up one day out of the blue, and I could feel something was wrong. I tried to ignore it, but that night, he said he was leaving. And he did. He said we weren’t breaking up. He said we needed to slow down. But I knew better. I knew it was over. Maybe not that day, but soon. After a little over a week when he barely spoke and refused to see me, he drove over to my house to get the rest of his things and end what I thought was the relationship I would be in for the rest of my life. He said he wasn’t in love with me. He said a lot that didn’t make sense. He said a lot that hurt. I watched him drive away and I felt my heart go with him. I felt numb. This would be what broke me, and he didn’t seem to care. He walked away like so many people in my life and left me in pieces and I was left trying to pick them up and stay afloat. I waited around for a month, again let down by my own expectations, thinking he would come back. Until I found out he had moved on, with someone who was supposed to be my friend, and had in some form before he broke up with me. So I hurt all over again. I have spent over a week trying to make sense of everything and mend my life and the mess it feels like I’ve made of it. But I have come to realize something.

I haven’t made a mess of my life. I have lived. I’ve learned. I’ve loved. This life is mine. This may have been the hardest year of my life, but it has also been the year I discovered myself. The year I found out who I was. The year I started living for myself and making decisions for me. The year I have spent making myself happy. Here’s something you probably don’t know about me. I’m a social drinker. It doesn’t make me a bad person. I have tattoos. They also don’t make me a bad person. They tell my story. They tell my journey. They remind me that my struggles are not who I am and do not define me. They remind me that I am stronger than I know and I will overcome any obstacle, with time and patience, and strength. My track record is pretty good so far.

This year has went by so fast. This year has been the best and the worst of my life all at the same time. My summer life was some of the best days I’ve ever lived with some of the best people that I am so fortunate to have. I have made friends that have turned into family. I have a best friend named Brittany that has stood by me and picked me up and cried with me and mended my heart and stood up for me and loved me like a sister and been the best blessing I could ever have. I have a Mary and Mama Lou and a whole family that look after me. I have a Shayne and a Michelle and a Bri and a baby Allen that never let me feel like I’m not loved. They are always there for me and never let me down. I have a Dan and a Karen that feed me and help me with my puppy and love me and pull me out of a rut when I’m stuck (in both senses of the words). I have a Tanner and a Josh that cook for me on a fire and help me when I need it and remind me that having little brothers are special. I have a Laura and a Daniel and a Becca and a Pat and an Amber and a Josh that make concerts more fun than a barrel of monkeys and remind me what it’s like to live and let live and love and be loved. I have an Andy and a James that check on me and remind me that I have good friends and warn me about weather and talk me through rough days. I have a Miss Couch that reminds me that God and her are always there to support me and love me no matter what. I have a Val and a Jr. who treat me like one of their own. I have a lake family that I love dearly and I miss so much. So many papas and mamas who have looked after me over the years that treat me like their own. I have a Court and Tiff, a Kathryn and Ben, a Randi, a Tara, a Traci, a Stephanie, a Brook and Jesse, and so many more people that have stood by me. I have so many people that love me and are there for me and refuse to give up on me. And I have a blood family, a mom and a dad and a brother that love me and have stood by me, even when they didn’t agree with some of my decisions.

I really am so blessed. So I’ve lost people. So what if people hurt me. So what if I have had some rough days. One of my closest friends lost her mother this morning and my heart aches for her. My life could always be so much worse. This year has broken me but it does not define me. I have always used music to heal me and to remind me that this too shall pass. Old Dominion has a song that I listen to a lot. In the song it says “life is short, make it sweet.” Life is short. It is so short. Kenny Chesney has a song that I try not to listen to because it reminds me of when my granny was sick but it’s called “Don’t Blink.” I went to high school one day and I blinked and I was in college and then I blinked and I was in law school and then I blinked and now here I am. It goes so fast and we never know when our days are gonna end. But I know this. From now on, no more living in the past. No more dwelling. No more wondering if I am good enough. No more wondering if it’s going to get better, because it already is. My life is never going to be perfect. But the people in it who have stayed and stuck by me are. Because of that, my days are gonna be great regardless. No more allowing others to change my mood and decide what kind of day I’m going to have. No more hiding from life. No more looking at the negatives, only the positives. My future is mine, and whatever I make it. I have big dreams and I am going to spend my energy crushing my goals, not wallowing because a few things didn’t go my way.

Somebody told me recently that people knew everything about my life and they enjoyed their privacy. The thing is, I don’t have anything to hide. I’m not snapchatting 200 people, half of them the opposite sex, selfies of myself, wondering who is gonna bite. I’m not trying to deceive anyone, especially a significant other. I’ve not done anything to be ashamed of. I am who I am, and my life is always going to be somewhat in the public because I come from a political family, and that’s how it’s always been. And I’m grateful for that. I like people. I enjoy being amongst the public and talking to people and helping people and working toward making this town a better place.

My dad will be sworn in as County Judge Executive next week, a goal he has been chasing and working toward since he was 24 years old. He has taught me to never give up. Always persevere. Always give back. Always respect your elders. Always be proud of your hard work and how it pays off. Always be a good friend. Always do what you can for those in need. Always be an example. That’s how I live my life. If you know me, then you know who I am. You know what I’m made of and you know how hard I have worked to get where I am in this life. For the first time in my life, I am proud of myself. I know my worth, and 2019 is going to bring a new year, with a new resolution for me: I’m going to stop settling for less than I deserve. I am going to set goals for myself in my career and crush them all. I am going to represent my clients to the best of my ability and I am going to be the best attorney I can be.

Maybe my life is too open. But you know what, maybe that’s OK. Maybe I can inspire somebody. Maybe somebody can learn something from me. Maybe somebody can feel better about themselves. Maybe somebody will read this and know that good days are ahead. Maybe somebody will smile knowing they had an impact on my life. Maybe somebody will hurt a little less. Maybe somebody will understand their struggles a little better. My goal in this life is to be a stronger person. Be closer with God. Be a good friend, a good sister, a good daughter. My goal in this life is to be remembered for my good deeds, and not my mistakes. My goal in this life is to help somebody when they need it most. To make someone’s life a little better. Because that is the legacy I want to leave behind.

2018 was a struggle. But it was a year of strength. A year of recovery and self discovery. 2019 is going to be the year I let my life happen and find joy in the journey, instead of trying to control the outcome. It’s the year to Let GO and Let GOD. He has a plan for my life. It’s time I let Him take over.

Thank you to all of the people who have loved me and have been there for me and made my days better. Thank you to the real people in my life who didn’t walk away when times got hard. Thank you to those people who made me smile when I didn’t feel like it. You have all helped me more than you know and you have made this year one of the best, aside from the bad moments. I am so blessed to have the people I do and I am so grateful that the Lord has blessed me as much as He has. Let’s all be thankful that 2019 is going to be a new year with new opportunities and new successes. I love my friends and family so much. Good luck to all in the coming new year!