I am sitting here drinking my coffee at 7 am on a Wednesday morning, thinking to myself, “How did I get here?”. This semester has been the hardest few months of my life. I am not referring to how stressful college classes are or how prevalent my lack of sleep is, but the difficulty I found when I realized I had hit rock bottom for the first time. The unexpected became a reality in my life. I found myself broken, like a shattered mirror unable to put the pieces back together. Despite how I let myself get to that place, on Tuesday February 28, 2017 I found myself on an 8 pm flight back to Green Bay, WI. For anyone who knows me, the very thought of skipping an entire week of college classes would give me an anxiety attack, yet I was doing it. Although completely out of the norm, I knew I needed to do this. At this moment, I decided to take my place of complete vulnerability as an opportunity to find resilience and build myself back up from nothing. I cannot begin to believe how much individual growth I have found in the last 3 months despite the hardships and burdens that were weighing heavy on my heart. My journey to finding this individual growth all started when I realized to give myself grace.
Leave it to a mother to tell you that you are amazing and beautiful and intelligent. Mom, thank you for 7:30 am phone calls, followed by 12 pm lunch break phone calls, and 8 pm mental breakdown phone calls. If we were to look at our total talking minutes for the month, I think Sprint would realize we have taken the unlimited family plan to our complete advantage. As I was struggling to make it through each day, you were there every step of the way. From receiving cards in the mail (literally) every single day, to dropping everything in your life to make sure I was OK when I came home for a week, you are one of the very reasons I am where I am today. You are the woman I aspire to be someday: a compassionate, caring mother with an insane work ethic who embodies and shares the faith of the Catholic church. Mom, thank you for being my rock. When I hit rock bottom, you were right there with me, and for that I cannot thank you enough. Love you to the moon. As I was home for a week, spending time with family was the best medication. With each of us growing older and our schedules filling up, it is becoming rarer to have every single seat at the table filled. On Saturday morning, we were all present for the first time since Christmas. Classic Jones brunch consisted of way too much food and often lasted long as it was filled with laughter and loud voices. Four days at home and I was finally starting to feel a bit better. At this moment of being gathered together, our mom and dad shared some unexpected news with us. My dad had been diagnosed with cancer. I can still remember the feeling of my heart sulking to my stomach and my breaths slow to a stop. Selfishly I began to ask God, “Are you serious? I honestly thought things couldn’t get much worse, and now this?”. I then began to become angry with myself. I was so caught up in my own personal problems and would call all the time to complain to my parents, yet they were dealing with this the whole time. Putting things into perspective, I slowly began to realize how little my problems were in the grand scheme of life. From that point forward, the family dynamic did a complete 180. I think we all began to realize how blessed and fortunate we have been thus far, and the slightest bit of adversity we were about to face was going to be difficult. Throughout the next two days, we did not fight one time. We were present with one another. We were together, and that was all that mattered. The C word. It is such a scary thing. In all its negative connotations, however, I began to see a different side of the dreaded word. With these past few months, I can easily say my dad has become the most admirable person in my life. Although you do not wish adversities and hardships upon anyone, they really do present an opportunity to change your life if you are willing to be resilient. Dad you have found resilience. From deciding to completely renovate the entire house because you have always wanted a bigger kitchen, to taking time off work and booking family vacations, you are living for the moment. You are such an inspiration to me and my every day. I appreciate your weekly phone calls and inspiration to “just do my best” because in the end everything will always be ok. Before we knew much about your progress, you called me one afternoon and told me that we better start living for today because tomorrow is never guaranteed. You truly have been living each day. You constantly inspire me to be present in each moment, to truly love those who I am with, and to just do the things I have always wanted to do but have never made the time for. Dad, you are the definition of resilience. I cannot believe how much your mindset and attitudes toward life have changed, but it has been overwhelmingly significant reason that I am able to be where I am today. I thank God each night for your prognosis, and am continually praying for your recovery. Thank you, dad, for having “changes in latitudes, changes in attitudes” (Jimmy Buffett). Through all the hardships the last few months have brought me, I began to self-reflect more than ever before in my Leadership class at the University of Minnesota. Thanks to my amazing instructor, TA, and classmates, I was pushed beyond belief to persevere and find resilience. After watching a Ted Talk in which JK Rowling discusses the benefits of failure (https://www.ted.com/talks/jk_rowling_the_fringe_benefits_of_failure), I could not believe how accurate her talk spoke directly to my heart. In her speech, she talks about how hitting rock bottom is sometimes necessary for success. In my head I am thinking, “Finally, someone is telling me that being broken is OK and I can only go up from here!!!”. Pages upon pages of journaling later, as well as countless discussions about letting ourselves accept failure, I realized I was able to give myself grace. I realized it is ok to take a night off of homework. It is ok to eat an entire pint of ice cream by yourself because you are feeling down. It is ok to say no to the expectations of others when you simply do not have the time. It is ok to “wing” a college exam because you decided spending time with family was what you needed more. It is ok to not be perfect. It is ok to embrace your imperfections. It is ok to let yourself be in a place of failure and cry from time to time. It is ok to give yourself some grace. Today I am sitting here (still drinking my coffee), looking out at the sun beaming through the window. This morning I spent some time with God and focused on a daily intention, wrote down a list of things that make me happy and fill my cup up, and wrote this blog post. As I go forward, I am reminded that I must actively pursue happiness, but not dismiss feelings of failure when they show up. Hitting rock bottom is not ideal nor is it wanted, but to be honest it is inevitable. It is a fact of life. If you have not been there yet, I am sure you will experience failure at some point throughout your existence, and when you do, do not run away from it. Embrace it. Use it to find yourself and to find resilience. In the end, give yourself some grace because imperfections are beautiful.
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I live my life giving 220%. How is that possible? Statistically speaking it isn’t, and supposedly societal norms say the same thing; however, I am doing it. I am giving 110% to my professional life and 110% to my personal life. Despite popular belief, I am defying these statistics. Societal norms tell me this is not possible. Relationships are an integral part of who I am. Nevertheless, my academic commitment and motivation also drive a significant component in my life. In a society where we are supposed to choose between a career and a family, I am struggling. I struggle because my heart tells me one thing, and society tells me another. I struggle because as a college student pursuing an ambitious career, I am often reminded how I cannot have both a family and this career. Although it is becoming more common to balance a professional career and have a family, it is still not considered the “norm”. Wanting a family of my own someday, but also an established career, I am breaking the norm of societal expectations. Where does that leave me and where do I go from here?
Hi, my name is Josephine Jones and I am leaning in. I am leaning in because I am a woman, a hard working one too. I am a student. I am a daughter. I am a friend. I often don’t believe in myself. I find doubts among my capabilities, which can cloud my opportunities in some cases. I have a big heart. I make mistakes. I have a future of goals and dreams and ambitions. So why am I leaning in? I am leaning in because I can be all of these things and more. I am leaning in because I want to inspire others to lean in too. Lean In came into my life, and my entire perspective changed. Trying to convince myself on a day to day basis that I can do both is mentally exhausting, to say the least. Despite the support from family and friends, it can be hard for others to understand the situation I am in. I decided to Lean In and start a circle at the University of Minnesota. If you are not familiar with Lean In (http://leanin.org/), it is national organization based on Sheryl Sandberg’s book, Lean In: Women, Work, and the Will to Lead. Amongst everything Sandberg inspires, she inspired me to bring a circle to campus; a circle to create a community of aspiring college students empowering women to achieve their goals. I am ecstatic to see where this supportive community takes me this year, and for the rest of my personal and professional life. As for defying the odds, I am going to continue living life 220% and encourage you to do the same. It is possible, and all it takes is the will to make it work. Some days I play hard and work harder, while others I work hard and play harder. Life is a complicated puzzle of trying to figure out how the pieces fit for you in your life, considering what you have and where you are. I finally feel like my puzzle, although chaotic and disorganized, fits together. I invite you to lean in and go after whatever has been on your mind or in your heart. Lean in and discover how your puzzle pieces fit together. Lean in to maximize your potential. Lean in to create the life you want to live. 365 days have gone by in a blink of an eye. I sit here and think. Wow. What a year around the sun. Exactly 365 days ago I was meandering my way around this new environment, lanyard around my neck and backpack stuffed to capacity. Every day was a new adventure, an opportunity to meet a new individual while I was riding the bus or sitting in a 300-person lecture hall. I walked with a light in my eyes, and believe me I had “Freshman” written all over my face. Everything was new, exciting, and fresh. On my walk to the bus stop today, I could pinpoint the freshmen a mile away (yes, sorry freshmen it is quite obvious), walking with wonder in their step. I found myself envious of them. They have a fresh start, a new slate, and an exciting adventure ahead unlike anything they have ever experienced. Sophomore year brings an entirely new experience. Out of the dorms and on my own, I feel like I have grown up in a matter of a week. I am adulting (or at least trying to). I go grocery shopping and cook my own food and figure out my life all at once. Oh, and how could I forget attending just about every extracurricular and taking 3000 level classes, while attempting to hold on to my sanity. The past 365 days have flown by and the next 365 days will too I suppose. Looking back, I can see my growth as an individual, and also the change within myself. About one year ago I also wrote a piece on the inevitability of change (click here). A year in review, that could not be truer. After finding myself envious of these Freshmen with a new start, I realized every year could be my Freshman year. All it takes is the courage to step out of my comfort zone, try something new, and make this year entirely different from the last. No matter how old you are, every year has the potential to be an exciting, new start full of possibilities and opportunities, much like that of a Freshman in college. So, how can you remember the year 2016-2017? That is entirely up to you. Make a goal, find new connections, build new relationships, and get to know yourself. Although my backpack may still be stuffed to capacity, I think this time around the sun is going to be something I have never experienced. I am ready to test my stamina, challenge my instincts, meet amazing people, and allow for some individual growth. Cheers to Freshman Year round 2. We live in a big, scary world. Life seems to throw unexpected twists in our face, giving the very earth we live on a power to make us fear. We fear the things we cannot control. We fear the future. We fear the loss of those we love. We fear our death. We fear. The only way to live a life without constant fear is to turn to God, the one who does have control over this earth. Easier said than done, right? I try, constantly, to offer up my worries and fears to Him. Time after time the chaos of life seems to win over my faith and hope, leaving my vulnerable self with an overwhelmed heart.
Today my heart is heavy. Yesterday afternoon we saw police at our neighbor’s house and found out their son had been taken by a wave while fishing on a Lake Michigan pier with three of his friends. Our neighbor and his friend are still missing (read the current story here). These times make us fear the unknown and maybe even the future. Upon hearing the news last night, my family sat down and prayed. We prayed for safety and security and guidance. We prayed for strength. We prayed for hope. Hoping for the best and believing in the possibility of miracles. As I drove to work this Monday morning, I decided to listen to a podcast as my heart ached. Joel Osteen’s podcast entitled “Anchored to Hope” was just what I needed to hear. He says that at the center of our lives there should be an anchor of hope. In order to have faith, you must have hope. During this time of terrible tragedy, we must turn to that anchor and remember we are not alone. There is hope. Now that you have read this, I ask you to say a quick one-minute prayer. A prayer for all four families of these young men. A prayer for those recovering the tragedy and those still not found. A prayer for hope. Never underestimate the power of prayer. “Just when I think I have learned the way to live, life changes”-Hugh Prather
Two months into college at the University of Minnesota and nobody prepared me for this moment. Nobody told me how college would bring me the best and worst times of my life. Nobody told me the difficulty of being away from my family, friends, and adorable golden doodle Jax. Everyone told me it was going to be the best four years of my life. It seemed impossible to find and make friendships, without comparing them to lifelong friends 500 miles away. I was overwhelmed at the feeling of being lost, alone, and nonexistent from myself. Nevertheless, I could see myself changing as an individual before my own eyes —an unrecognizable face in an unfamiliar mirror. On October 16, 2015, I finally began to understand the inevitable change I will face as I journey through the rest of life. Earlier that morning, I woke up ecstatic for the prosperity of a new day. As usual, I listened to John Mayer and brewed a cup of black coffee. I sat in my plaid pajamas on my horribly uncomfortable futon, taking in that quiet morning before the inevitable chaos of a Friday would settle. I sat a few minutes too long, and before I knew it I was late. A quick shower, five-minute makeup, and a pullover sweatshirt with my favorite leggings were all I had time for. Running to my 9:00 a.m. lecture, I made it just in time. On my way home from class, I became evoked by a wave of sadness as I looked over the Minneapolis skyline. Staring at the gloriously tall buildings as the sun beamed down, I thought about the lives of all those tiny people working in tiny cubicles. I envied them for their lives that seemed so put together. I then hit a proximal point in my new college experience where I missed my old life, where I did have it figured out. Whenever I am in distress, I know if I talk to my older sister, Justine, I will find immediate happiness. Justine attends the University and is not only my biggest role model academically, but also my biggest role model in life. She is the one person in this world who knows me inside and out. Knowing she would put a smile on my face, I called her and she said she would be right over. I hurried back amidst the perpetual tears urging to escape my weary, green eyes. As she arrived, I held back those tears and got in the car. “You are skipping your Chemistry lecture today.” I was shocked. I am an individual who would have never skipped class if my life depended on it. I sat there in silence, fighting back tears and trying not to inhale her strawberry scented air freshener. “Sometimes you need to think about your own personal happiness. If skipping a class or two will make you feel better, do it.” After a long pause, I shut my bloodshot eyes and realized I was not the same person I came to college as. Change is a good thing, but sometimes difficult to grasp and comprehend as an eighteen-year-old young adult, surviving on minimal sleep and too much coffee. “I need a physical change in my life,” I desperately said. I was pondering all the things I could do to change my life: a haircut, a new piercing, or some retail therapy. Then it hit me. “Let’s get tattoos,” I said with the slightest excitement in my voice. My sister stared at me in disbelief. In our household, we are not allowed to get tattoos until we are able to support ourselves. If my parents were to ever find out, we would be in so much trouble; however, I needed a reminder of my purpose in life. I needed comfort that I had good things going for me. Despite the infinite lists of cons, I decided I would get a tattoo with my sister. Just like that, we were on our way. The entire car ride to downtown Minneapolis was filled with nervous energy. There was anticipation, hope, and change in sight. We pulled up to a red building. Yellow neon lights reading “Tattoo” illuminated the sidewalk. Despite our mutual nervousness in the moment, we confidently walked in, as if the action of inking our body was not a big deal. There were two artists sitting behind the counter. “Can we help you?” The woman asked politely. It was at that moment I began to doubt myself. Years prior I had always promised myself I would never get a tattoo, and here I am checking into an appointment—my appointment. “We have an appointment at 4 p.m. I’m Justine Jones, I had called earlier.” After a short pause, the man walked over to us and handed us a stack of forms. “You will need to sign all of these forms. It’ll be about ten minutes until we are ready for you.” We signed a lot of papers. I felt like I was signing away my life, my body for one inch of permanently marked skin. When they were finally ready for us, I chugged a cold class of water and anxiously followed them back. The room was white, with an operating-like table sitting in the center. For a moment, I forgot I was voluntarily doing this to myself. There were several pictures of others’ tattoos hanging up on the walls. I kept looking at them, wondering what their purpose was on that day. I kept wondering what had urged them to completely cover themselves in a mystery only they would understand. When I saw the prepped tray of materials near the table, I nearly jumped. “Who is up first?” The artist asked. “I am the bigger sister, so I will,” Justine said with a smile. I stared at her striking green eyes, pasty skin, and dark brown, short hair. I simply smiled and instantly felt a sigh of relief. Not only did she take me here because I was having a bad day, but she was completely supporting and excitedly agreeing with this, perhaps, irrational decision. In this moment, I realized she is my person and will always be my person in this world. During these times of experimenting my newfound adulthood, I was reassured she would always be here for me no matter what I face for the rest of my life. The buzzing of the needle began. “Does it hurt? Please tell me it doesn’t hurt,” I asked my sister with fear in my eyes. “Not at all, just a little tingly. You will be just fine, I promise.” Ten minutes later, we strutted out of there like we were changed. Encompassing one inch of my bony ankle reads “70 x 7” in white ink. I would love to explain the meaning; however, it already frightens me a little that I have shared almost my entire life story with you all. Every single time I look at it, I am reminded of all the wonderful things in my life: the rebellious freedoms of being a college student, my sister and best friend, God, and my individualistic, changing self. I may regret my permanent tattoo in five or even ten years, but it will always remind me of who I was at this point in my life. It is inevitable to change as a person as I journey through life, but this tattoo marks me as who I am now. P.S. I am sorry dad if you have finally figured out how to read my blog. I promise you can hardly see it!!! Seconds. Minutes. Hours. Days. Months. Years. Time. It flies by. From one second to the next, to being 9 years old and suddenly 19, flying time is purely inevitable. My life revolves around a schedule. I plan out every minute of every day, bombarding my desk with weekly post it notes. In those few spare minutes of solemn quietness each day, I find myself appreciating every second lived & every second to come; however, I find a flaw in this way of life in the fact that I give only a minute out of 24 hours to appreciate it all (and there's a lot to appreciate). I am trying so hard to live life by the books: being spontaneous, yet having plans and goals and a future. With a mindset fixed on the future, time is flying by before my eyes.
I recently celebrated my 19th birthday. What struck me was when I realized this is my last year as a teenager. When did I grow up so fast? Sometimes I feel like I am still 16 at heart and then I remember I am an adult. With responsibilities. And a bank account that is slowly dwindling. I am an adult that does not have their life together. How has ten years flown by where I used to be a tiny (literally 60 pound), annoying 5th grader to where I am now (not 60 pounds or completely annoying)? I am sure some of you remember me like this and all I have to say is I am sure thankful for time, as it has done me some justice. On the other hand, between 9 and 19 I have grown into the person I am today from several experiences, influences, and emotions in my life. In this decade of time, I have infinite memories that made me who I am, yet I cannot recall each one. It saddens me to feel like I have taken advantage of those middle school, high school, and even the first half of my college years by focusing on what is ahead and not what is present. Packing up everything I own and starting college seems like yesterday. I was looking through old pictures the other day from first semester, and I cannot believe how fast it has gone. I am almost done with my first year of college, and then what? Three more years of countless memories, no sleep, and flying time? I do not think I am quite ready for the real world, or in fact, I do not think the real world is ready for me. I see myself with so much growth as an individual ahead. When I relate that to how much time it will take, I see merely an entire lifetime for me to reach the individual I hope to become someday. With all that being said, I am challenging myself to stop taking life and its little moments for granted. I am challenging myself to stop letting life happen before my eyes, and start living with it to make every second count. I am challenging myself to live life in the moment, rather than always pursuing the future. One of my favorites, Ernest Hemingway, once said, “Try to learn to breathe deeply, really to taste food when you eat, and when you sleep, really to sleep. Try as much as possibly to be wholly alive with all your might, and when you laugh, laugh like hell. And when you get angry, get good and angry. Try to be alive. You will be dead soon enough.” Although there's so much ahead and so many dreams to pursue, here’s to being alive every second, minute, hour, day, month, & year. In the end, it all falls into place. Time is inevitably flying by, so I am going to start flying with it. On Friday night, I found myself pondering the universe as I was babysitting. I was singing "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" for the bed time lullaby and realized how infinitely small I am in the world. When I think about the billions of people occupying this earth, I can't help but think about myself as just another star in the sky. I was instantly propelled by an idea that in 200+ years no one will probably remember my life. So, if that is the case, why do I care so much about what people think? Why do I live cautiously? In the infinite amount of the stars, I am just a speck on the map. I need to start living for today, like everyday will be my last. In the grand scheme of time, my life takes up such a tiny portion on earth's timeline. Every breath I have needs to be a breath of purpose. Every thought I think needs to be a thought engulfed by positivity. My head is constant chaos, whirling with thoughts about the "what ifs" and the "could bes". The time is now to stop with the thoughts and to start making them a reality. It is the time to embrace life's imperfections and laugh a lot more, smile a lot more, and love a lot more. This life will never unfold according to plan. You can take the spontaneity and run, or you can dwell on the imperfections. I am going to take the spontaneity and fly, fly far far away to be among the stars and look at the world from above. With all that being said, I am not saying my life isn' t important. In fact, I honestly believe the short time frame we are given heightens our importance in life. How much of an impact can we make day to day, or even year to year? I believe with all of my heart we are all put on this earth with a purpose. Whether it takes an entire lifetime to find that purpose, we are found running in circles, continuously searching. I urge you to take a leap of faith and start living for today. Stop breathing because you have to, but breathe because you want to be here and you want to make a difference. Look among the stars and realize you have the power to change the world one action at a time. After all, life is short and it's more fun to do with a smile on your face. Run to the sea. Make some mistakes. Fall in love. Laugh often. Shine bright. What a time to be alive. xoxo Jo Dearest Grandma, I am writing to you because there are so many things I want to say to you that I never did in my 18 years of knowing you. First of all, I know you are smiling down on me as I write this letter to you. There is no doubt in my mind you are among the angels and took the highway to heaven-like the 70 mph highway, not the 55 mph highways under construction. You are the most amazing woman I have ever known on this earth. Your constant love, kindness, and humility to each and every one of your 38 grandkids is almost impossible to comprehend. The most important thing I will forever remember about you, Grandma, is your faith. As you raised my mother to keep God at the center of her life, she has passed that down to me. When I was younger, I never thought it was strange that I went to Mass twice a week, said the rosary during long car rides, or did the sign of the cross every time I heard an ambulance. As I have gotten older, I have realized my family is unique in these times of the 21st century. Although unique, it has shaped me into the person I am today and the person I hope to be in the future. Even though my faith is a constant rollercoaster of ups and downs, you are my inspiration to keep God as my number one. You are what I look up to for how I want to be when I am 95 years old-surrounded by love, family, and faith. The connotation to a funeral is always sad, dark, and gloomy; however, your funeral was full of hope, love, and cherished memories. 95 years of memories. Although tears were shed, they were shed because of your impact on this world. They were shed when your grandchildren played Amazing Grace on violin. They were shed when the scripture readings impeccably described you. They were shed when we reminisced on memory after memory (especially your caramel rolls). They were shed when we looked around at all of the family gathered together and realized you started all of it. You started a supportive, loving, faithful family. These past couple of years have been difficult with your dementia, but I know deep down you still loved and prayed for each and every one of us every single day. I am looking forward to the day we can meet again, and I can say all of these words to you. Until then, I hope to be a little more like you each and every day. Thank you for being my biggest role model on this earth, and showing me the impact one little lady can have on the world. Love you a bushel & a peck, Josephine On this first day of the new year, I can't help but look back and reflect on this past year. It has brought me so many joys, but also more challenges than any other year I can recall. Graduating high school, going to college, and starting over are not the easiest things to do after living with my parents for the past 18 years. I am still trying to figure it all out. Aside the best senior year I could have asked for and a summer filled with memories beyond belief, college has changed me as an individual, for the better I suppose. Living on my own these past 4 months has taught me a lot about myself, but most of all it has taught me I have so much more to learn in life. It all started with my laundry. All semester when I was doing my laundry, I would always put the POD into the soap compartment. Needless to say, if you know anything about laundry that is not how to use a POD. You have to put it directly into the washing machine with your clothes. Well, about a week ago I finally realized it when I overheard someone complaining about how there were always PODs left in the soap compartment. To all my fellow T-Hall residents: I'm sorry for leaving my PODs and making your lives a little harder. Anyways, laundry aside, I have a lot of learning to do. So instead of "eating healthier" or "exercising more", I want to keep learning every single day for the year ahead. I want to keep figuring life out, taking risks, exploring the world, finding who I am, and making some memories while I'm at it. Here's to another year of unexpected greatness. 2015, it's been real. Home for Thanksgiving and I could not be happier. Sleeping in my own bed, waking up to a full pot of freshly ground highlander grog coffee, snuggling with the cutest golden doodle in the whole wide world (my baby Jax), + most of all spending time with family.
It seems like just yesterday I was in 8th grade, wearing a uniform and following all the rules. Obviously I am not the same person as I was in 8th grade, but sometimes I wish I was. As I have gotten older, I have realized I miss the innocent 8th grade me, where my biggest worry was not getting a 4.0 GPA. Everything changed in high school. It became hard, there was peer pressure, I was awkward. Since I can remember, I have been journaling whenever I was sad, happy, angry, etc. I found these journals as I was going to bed last night and found things about myself that I completely forgot. I can't help but laugh a little when I read about my biggest worries as an 8th grader: mostly including the stresses I faced if a boy liked me or if I would get an A on a test. More importantly I wrote about a lot personal things, and was left with tears streaming down my face. I used to write reflections on nightly devotionals, and coming across them had a yearning to know Christ like I used to. What has gotten in the way of how my relationship used to be? Why was my relationship with God the strongest when I was 14 years old? I pondered these questions and decided for the next year (365 days) I will journal a devotional every night to revitalize this relationship and find my 8th grade self (?). I also found I used to write three things I was thankful for every single night. I cannot remember the last time I sat down, and said all of the things I was thankful for. Nonetheless, I cannot remember the last time I sat down and thanked God for all of the things He has given me. Most of the time I was thankful for "my amazing family I love them so so so much!!!!!", "my cats, they are awesome!", "my mom and dad I love them so much they are the best parents in the whole world!!!". No joke. My words exactly. This lead to me discovering I have become selfish as I've gotten older. I need to be thankful every single day, as things are just changing faster and before I know it I'm going to be graduating college and wondering where my childhood went. I have decided for the next year (365 days) I am going to write down three things I am thankful for every night before bed. Leading to my next point, "I love my mom so much, to the moon and back times infinity forever and ever". Reading my journal, I think I stumbled upon me expressing my love for my mom about 20+ times, which goes to show how amazing she is. It was fun to read all of things I wrote about that I didn't remember: "My mom just bought me earrings today, it was SO thoughtful! I love her so much." "I miss my family and I love my family so so much. My mom is an angel." "My mom is so caring and willing to do anything." "I had dinner with my little sister and mom tonight. It was wonderful. I love them both so much." "My mom is the most humble person I know." "My mom puts us before herself everyday" Although I have so clearly expressed and noticed it in the past, being a teenager is always hard on a mother-daughter relationship. Since I've left for college, I will openly admit I have cried a few times in college thinking about my mom because she is that amazing. I appreciate her more than I ever have before, and hope some day to be half the mom and person she has been to me. As I've said since I was just 6 years old: love you to the moon and back times infinity, mom. xoxo Jo |
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