Brothers . . .

. . .  do you remember this day? So. much. work.

But, oh, what a fun trip.

The Story - Brandi Carlile

If you have never heard of Brandi Carlile, stop what you are doing, and listen to her. One of the most beautiful voices I have ever heard and such amazing lyrics.  I love the power that is found in music. I love the lyrics to her song, "The Story" -

All of these lines across my face

Tell you the story of who I am

So many stories of where I've been

And how I got to where I am

But these stories don't mean anything

When you've got no one to tell them to

It's true, I was made for you

I climbed across the mountain tops

Swam all across the ocean blue

I crossed all the lines, and I broke all the rules

But,baby, I broke them all for you

Because even when I was flat broke

You made me feel like a million bucks

You do, I was made for you

You see the smile that's on my mouth

It's hiding the words that don't come out

All of our friends who think that I'm blessed

They don't know my head is a mess

No they don't know who I really am

And they don't know what I've been through

Like you do, and I was made for you

All of these lines across my face

Tell you the story of who I am

So many stories of where I've been

And how I got to where I am

Oh but these stories don't mean anything

When you've got no one to tell them to

It's true, I was made for you

And it's true that I was made for you

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o8pQLtHTPaI


Sometimes music helps you say something that words alone can't, maybe one day I can have that kind of gift. I am tired tonight. I am tired of feeling the same emotion over and over again, does that ever happen to anyone else? You think you have it licked and it sneaks up behind you and there you go again:) Well, tomorrow is another day and I'm hoping for a good one . . .

like a pendulum.

A Girl on the Swing

Chungmi Kim

She sees the mountain

upside down.

With her long hair 

sweeping the fallen leaves

she swings

like a pendulum.

From the lagoon at sunset

a hundred sparrows fly away.

Wishing them back

she whistles softly.

And downward

she falls into the sky.

I am came across this poem at an extremely dark time of my life. I felt haunted by it. I felt as if I connected with that girl on the swing, having my own things to wish back: childhood, innocence, happiness, love, confidence. But we all know that nothing comes back just by wishing for it. If it were so what would we say for growth or cultivation of character? 

What I didn't realize then, that has come with time, is how truly wishing is a childlike verb. It points to the lack of being able to change your situation; you wish for things for which you have no control, it is what you do when you are helpless. For far too long I have lived my adult life with that childlike verb as my mantra - sitting back and wishing that things were different, that time could be reversed to come out right, to have it all play out fair.

Finally, however, after small steps in the right direction I am finally beginning to swing my pendulum in the opposite direction and realize there is nothing wrong with wishing . . . if . . . it is combined with work. That was what I was forgetting all those years - I am no longer a child. I am no longer a helpless victim of unfairness and pain. I can wish and work my way to the person I long to be. It has taken years and many set backs and there will probably be a few more but I am okay with that, because it is in those moments of set back that I have the free feeling of knowing that I can see a mountain upside down and my hair can touch the leaves as I make my way back up . . .

On Thursday August 9, 2012, I was given a gift that will forever live in my memory; I was able to see what I had set aside all these years as something I didn't deserve - - - love. My parents threw me a surprise birthday party and the inadequate word I keep thinking that would encompass it is LOVE - I certainly felt in and I hope with all my heart that they felt and will continue to feel it from me. 

Thank you. 

And now for the fun . . . . picture madness . . . "deal with it Cate Blanchett!"

Yeah - - - I wasn't expecting a backyard of people:) but oh, was it fun . . .

Love first to the women who made it all possible and worked all summer for this - love you mom!

Enjoying a moment with Pops - thank you Dad! I love you:)

And the prize for the person who came the farthest goes to . . . Aunt Margie! Come on downnnnn!! (What I always assume must be said when a winner is announced - curse you Price is Right!) I love you more than words:)

Closest I will ever come to a celebrity . . . no autographs please.

Such a beautiful night! Thanks to everyone who came:) 

Some of my favorite people on the planet - Paul and Paulette Barnes:)

The wonderful Apedailes!!

Becky and I  - such a dear friend

Fernando and Raquel - it wouldn't have been a celebration without them:)

Los Patiños - - - part of my life for 20+ years, love you!

Mark and Candace Crane - I love these two:)

The Lyon's - Peterson is a better place because you live there!

I must interrupt the guest pics to highlight everyone's favorite part - - - the food! Marcela made and decorated the cutest and most delicious cupcakes - there were ribbon sandwiches, empanadas, fruit, veggies, rolls and so many more delicious treats - someone better tell me if they were good;) I was too busy talking:)

Alex and Val - Seagull Book and HR at the Church would have been so not doable without these friends!

Cassie and Michelle! What can you say for best friends?! So happy they came!

Amber!! Life is so much fun because I know this girl!

Could this group be any cooler?! I pretty much say no - Mackenzie, Jenny, Hayli, Eliza, Jake and Andrea (award for best expression goes to Hayli ;) she wins every time)

Cassie and Michelle with their great husbands - Bryce and Spencer:)

I was so happy that Betty and Gordon came:)

She taught me preschool down the lane . . . isn't that so "small town" . . .

Claudia loved having me pose and I loved her for doing that - It was such a great sunset!

The swing was a fun spot - Eli could really get it going, it was so great that the Ferrell family came!

Natalie and I pretty much go back to birth, haha - My cousin and dear friend!

There was so much fun going on - good food, conversation, and SOCCER - it wouldn't be an Argentine birthday without soccer, I wish I would have joined in:)

Look at Jake taking all those kids on - you rock Jake!

And the highlight for many . . . . the PIÑATA - not one but two! Mason is going for it!

So many fun prizes - my mom made separate bags for the boys and the girls! There isn't anyone more awesome than my madre!

Of course they needed a 30 year Piñata veteran to step in and seal the deal - 

Nothing to it but aggression, haha

Summer Ferrell and I with the perfect birthday hats - such a cutie!!

Mackenzie! I am so grateful for her:)

LoriAnn Ferrell and I  - one of my favorite people on the planet:)

The camera women herself - - - Tia Claudia!

Natalie and her cute Siena

My friends from SLC - seriously love them all: Jen, Hayli, Lesley, Andrea and Kristen! These girls are the coolest, can I please be like them when I grow up?

Alex always being the life of the party:) Love you, Al!!

The day finally coming to a close but not before . . . .

CAKE! Mason will always and forever be my birthday candle blowing out partner - he is a pro!

I didn't get to get a picture with everyone that came but I hope they know how much I love them!! . . . . . . . so . . . . . . until another 30 years pass . . .  . . . . . . .

THAT'S ALL FOLKS . . . . .

"Time and Tide wait for no man, but time always stands still for a woman of thirty." Robert Frost

"All children mythologize their birth. It is a universal trait. You want to know someone? Heart, mind and soul? Ask him to tell you about when he was born. What you get won't be the truth; it will be a story. And nothing is more telling than a story."

The Thirteenth Tale

     My story began thirty years ago tomorrow. My mother and her mother were picking beans in our neighbors garden, sitting on a bucket in the morning sun, hoping that sometime soon I would finally choose to make an appearance in this world. I was two weeks over my due date and my mother was tired; how she found the energy to pick beans on a hot August morning is beyond me. 

     

     My father had taken almost all the two weeks off work and postponed many important business meetings to be home, "just in case", but he could wait no longer. That morning he had kissed my mother goodbye apologizing for not being able to continue in the waiting game at home and left explicit instructions to call if anything was to happen. My grandmother suggested that it would be good for my mom to do something other than sit and wait, and my mother agreed (she has never been one to sit and wait for anything:). I often wonder what that morning was like in the bean patch across the street - was the conversation about me or was it chitchat? Maybe there wasn't conversation at all,  but the content kind of silence that only comes from trust, love and time. 

     

     Whatever was happening that morning was trumped around 10am when my mother realized I was coming. The contractions came fast and that meant that I was close to follow.  True to my nature since birth, I was on my way and once I had decided it was time there was no turning back. The called my father and he couldn't be reached so they called the nurse. After explaining to the nurse how fast the contractions were coming they were given instructions to go to the hospital immediately. My mother could never imagine going to the hospital, after being in the garden, without a shower; so, true to her nature since birth . . . she took her time and cleaned up before calling my grandfather for a ride to the hospital. 

     

     I love the idea that my grandparents were involved and around at the time of my birth; both maternal and paternal sides of the family were anxiously awaiting another member of their posterity. I think that talks to the importance of family and roots, honoring where we come from and being aware of those who are to come. 

     

     All the rest of the story is kind of a blur for me and this is a reminder that I need to hear the tale again from those who know it best. What I do know is that I was born that day, August 9, 1982 and given the name of Mia - "mine" in Spanish. I was always to remember that I belonged, that I was someone's and maybe somewhere down deep they hoped I would turn to that knowledge when it mattered the most . . .