Enough.

Some of the most beautiful moments of my life only exist in my memory. 

There are physical representations of our time spent together, but I can only visit the space where you live in my heart. 

I can't hear your voice, feel your embrace, or enjoy your presence. 

I can only desperately cling to the fleeting moments we experienced. 

I seek lessons from the borrowed time we shared, to reconcile the pain and emotion. I wonder if I gave enough, did I love enough, did I make you feel special enough....was I enough?

Learning from my climatalogical peak.

Being Cajun accounts for quite a lot of my personality traits, hobbies, favorite past-times, but you might find it surprising to learn that even my depression is ruled by the Cajun blood that runs through my veins. Between the large amounts of deathiversaries from my family and the ending of another glorious year with Lucian I become very melancholy, at the closing of every Summer. My stormiest and darkest days oddly correlate with the climatalogical peak of the Atlantic Hurricane season.

Every August and September I spend many nights in quite contemplation, wondering if I'm making enough memories and leaving an impression on Lucian's heart. I give hours pondering my efforts in preparing him for the life that lies in front of him. I desperately seek out each memory that was shared with loved ones, hoping to understand the lesson I was meant to gleam from their moments on Earth. When a storm begins to roll in I bravely close my eyes, face the wind and silently admit that I can no longer hear their voice or see their face in my mind, and in that instant I feel them next to me.

It was just the other night when I had that special juncture with my O'ma, I let the grin wash over my face and the tears stream quickly down my cheeks. Life has been weighing heavy on my heart as of late and I just let it all rush out to her, begging for guidance. It was such a freeing moment, I went to bed so joyful. I dreamt of lighthouses for the next few nights, they were a favorite of her's so I wasn't surprised but I was a little disappointed that there was no real clarity to be found in any of them. That's when I thought maybe she's telling me to BE a lighthouse. When I said those words out loud I swear I could hear her say, "Carrie Ann, you were designed to emit light and help others navigate the rough shores of life."

To the outsider, it may seem ludicrous but my purpose is clear to me now. I can take the time I need to looking longingly at the sea, remembering the happiness it has brought me, but I must muster the strength to be seen through the darkest, storm-riddled nights. I am built to ride out life's toughest storms. I must be maintained, ready and alert for the next day's trials - ever present to help guide my people to safety.

Reflections on #2017TheYearToSoar

I look to 2018 with much trepidation; I am still lying in a heap, licking the wounds that 2017 dealt me. #2017TheYearToSoar held so much promise. I had such lofty, yet attainable, goals and felt that I was embarking on the journey that I would later regale to others as my path to my success - and ahead of schedule, per my five year plan. It is now nearly the end of 2017, and I am shocked to report that I am nowhere near where I intended to be. How did this happen? I did, and continue to do, all the right things. How did I get HERE?

The impending New Year's Eve is what finally opened my eyes to the misconception I had been living. I needed to select my word for 2018, a word that would embody the next 365 days. I thought about 2017 and my word, SOAR, and I was embarrassed. I felt like I had just finished a trust exercise - on January 1st I was blindfolded and told to make it to the other side and here I am happily, peeling off the bandanna.

I started listing successes by the goals I had made and found myself having to be creative in my wording, to be able to claim a goal as accomplished. More than halfway through the third quarter, team 2017 sacked me at the ten yard line and left me laying lifeless. That entry hit hard but I continued reading down my unmarked list. Immediately I began excusing my actions, "You had a rough year. One of your best friends died, you should be proud you're upright." So what, I made it to the other side, big deal. Everyone has struggles and hurdles, there are times when we all have bad years - even decades. There are thousands of people, around the world, who were pummeled by life again and again and here I am, blaming my life for my lack of success.

The terrible events of my year are not responsible for my current state,  I am. I have been kicking and clawing my way through the deepest, darkest recesses of my mind; trying to put this hurt and anger in just the right box, because I had things to do. I told myself that I had goals and a plan, Josh would have wanted me to push forward. This lie led me through a maze of despair that perpetuated more negative coping mechanisms. How I dealt with the mayhem life served me was where things started going awry. I had become disconnected from my family and friends, I wasn't making enough decisions, I wasn't committed to my vision or my goals. I spent the last four months of the year scrambling to make up for my poor resolve.

Just like that, 2017 literally soared right by me and I barely have anything to show for those 365 days. I marinated in that stew of regret for an hour or two and decided, enough. I am putting on my pearls, tying back my hair, and rolling up my sleeves. 2018 will be the year to connect.

Life is too fleeting to hesitate. - JRS

Others had left my life and heart with huge holes, regret would creep in and take hold of my head and heart for days. You and I discussed my regret occasionally; you'd heave a heavy sigh and look off, thoughtfully, into your history. You explained the urgency of life and how I'd continue to pay for the moments of hesitation. You thought that the call to action I would feel my heart give was a warning of pain, to my brain. It was reminding me of the fragility of life and allowing me the chance to heal before the real hurt would inevitably come.

I took your words to heart. I believed it would protect me from feeling the devastation of loss in the future and I guess it did, in a way. My heart is not broken from the regret of moments not taken, instead I am haunted. I now relive that moment when I looked into your eyes and said, "I'm sorry but I have to," I leaned in to kiss your cheek and I held on too long as I hugged you goodbye.

I look back at that lovely weekend we all spent together and I slightly chuckle. You were right. My heart was warning me but thankfully this time, I listened. The time at the beach is well documented with pictures that you begrudgingly allowed me to take. We all woke up too early and stayed up too late, each day that we were together. We were all present and soaking in every moment - we were all together again.

The deliciousness of all our time together made it so difficult to leave that morning. We all got into our respective vehicles and began our journey home. Playful texts were exchanged between you and Bob as he recounted the 30 mile sob-fest I engaged in, as we departed. It was proclaimed that I cried for the appropriate amount of time that morning, as you thanked us both for an amazing weekend.

Sporadically peaceful sleep eludes me now and on those early mornings I lay in bed looking up at the ceiling, crying angry tears. I'm heartbroken to live another day without you but grateful that I was paying attention. When I was presented with the chance - I kissed you one last time, I held you so close and hugged you too tight.


Thank you for that, Josh.

Conversations with Cheetah

Previously I have described my probing conversations with Cheetah, the short morning and afternoon commutes quickly become a formal inquisition. The years have been racing by but the daily scrutiny has remained, but he has up-ed the ante. He stuns me daily, as his subject matters widely broaden, I imagine this is due to his veracious reading, YouTube viewing (he does so in the living room, under our screening - no parent shaming needed), and countless hours of video game playing.

He plays good cop/bad cop as he grills me for answers while testing the validity of the responses with additional inquiries and promises of "googling" when our discussion has ended. After nearly ten straight minutes of examination, I pull into the driveway hoping for a reprieve. I close my eyes and try to get my heart rate back into the safe zone, while beginning to replay my answers in my mind.

Did I respond to his question about Herpes too graphically? Maybe he is too concerned with what his classmates think of him. Why in the world did I try to describe the Holocaust by myself, when I know I become too passionate? How else was I supposed to approach a questions about sperm? Thank goodness all we talked about was bugs and lizards today. What did he mean by, "but he did throw like a girl?" These moments of reflection leave me ready for round two, which never goes as well as the round he initiated; but I attempt to solidify my point or opinion, as I watch his eyes slowly begin to glaze over...

And there en lies the problem, he is only prepared to actively listen when he is ready to discuss issues with me; which I am learning happens less and less, in direct correlation with the amount of birthdays he has experienced. I'm unsure if I should be proud that he is growing more aware of his environment, that he catches every detail and written word that is around him or if I should be worried that he seems too aware of the world around him and isn't more lost in the thoughts and musings of a care-free child.

Those concerns lead me to a realization, maybe that's why many school districts have a completely separate school for children of this age, Middle School. It must be a place dripping with angst, overrun with attitude, and full of students who's eyes are stuck in the "rolled position" - what a drastic change from the light, airy, and happy hallways of the cute elementary school he currently attends. He's nervous to make that jump to the new school full of older kids, and I'm down right terrified.

I do have an ace up my sleeve though, a friend who works as a Counselor in the Middle School that Cheetah will be attending. We've discussed what changes I can expect and she assures me that things aren't as scary as I am envisioning. She has almost convinced me that Middle School is a gift to parents. It's the time in which we can train our hearts and bodies for the marathon ahead; to prepare for a barrage of arguments, patience obliteration, and additional limit testing.

As I continue to enjoy our last year at elementary school, I invite you fellow parents to incoming Middle Schoolers to take this school year and summer to cuddle your kids - when they'll let you, enjoy your conversations with them about their friends and hobbies, and try to keep your cool under the bare bulb of the investigation room.

#2016TheYearOfTheJump

As 2015 was drawing to a close, like many of people, I was contemplating the promise a new year gives. I felt like I was at a crossroad, mere steps away from embarking on a journey that would lead me to endless opportunities. But how could I ensure that I began the new year with the right stride?

I delved into researching the making of resolutions and embodying a mantra but quickly decided that they were either too ambiguous or too easy to get lost in finding the perfect fit; it was then that I stumbled onto the theory of a "Word of the Year," a word that would help guide me. I contemplated on what my word would be for several days, I googled a few choices but JUMP kept popping into my mind. A few days later Steve Harvey posted a video on his Face Book page that sealed the deal! The year would be #2016TheYearOfTheJump

During the Year of The Jump I would leap at opportunities when they presented themselves; I would say, "Yes" when I would typically find reasons to say, "No;" I would do things that made me uncomfortable or challenged me to push the limits; but most importantly I would not be the same person on December 31, 2016, that I was on January 15, 2016. Keeping a word forefront in my mind for an entire year was much easier than observing a resolution for 365 days, 2016 did not disappoint.

In 2016 I started 2 new businesses, quit my full-time office job to work for myself, attended a Girls Weekend when I only knew one out of nine people, set a goal and failed to meet it, set several more goals and crushed them, met new friends and established lasting friendships, and began dying my hair - just to name a few of my vaults.

As you can imagine my successes in 2016 have led me to another genesis, 2017. How do I follow such a great year of change and adventure? I had been pondering that exact thought for days when I decided to put my question on Face Book and within minutes I had struck gold. My dear friend MMorgan suggested SOAR, saying that there was no better word to follow #2016TheYearOfTheJump and I concur, completely.

IMAGE SOURCE: SOARCONNECTION

While many are lamenting that 2016 was a year that crushed dreams and ruined lives, I can look back on those 525,600 minutes knowing I tried my hardest and gave it my all...watch out #2017TheYearToSoar - I'm coming for you!

IMAGE SOURCE: GETTY IMAGES.

For the sake of replication.

On a recent road trip I was catching up on podcasts, I was listening to Episode #566 of the Art of Charm Podcast; I highly recommend checking out any and all episodes. During this installment Phillip McKernan discussed the importance of identifying the Five Happiest Days of your life, an exercise to explore your passions, by identifying the clues your life is leaving you. My interests were peaked and I became inspired to complete the exercise on my own.

He had a few tips to make sure you pick the best of the best: don't select days that you may feel obligated to pick (ie: wedding days or the birth of a child); don't get stuck on finding five, if you're able to come up with three you will still be able to learn something; and the day doesn't have to be great from start to finish - maybe there was just a moment, a touch or a kiss. McKernan then suggests to arrange the days in order of their greatness.

Upon beginning, I immediately selected two of my top five days but quickly became stingy with the remaining three spots. I have spent the last couple of days trying to whittle down my top seven days to five; I am sharing them here, in the hopes that writing them will help me identify the bread crumbs along my trail and where they could lead me.

One:
June 12, 1984 - The day my parents were married. It was a gorgeously warm summer day in South Louisiana when my parents were married on a bridge in the middle of a swampy State Park; you could feel the hope for the future in the air and positivity seemed to exuded from each guest. I was finally going to have a real family and would have a father who wanted to be my Daddy. My Great Grandmother, Grandparents, Aunts, Uncles, Cousins, and family friends all gathered under the shade of the trees to celebrate their union and surround them in our love.

Two:
Castaway Cay Day - In 2014 The Smith family went on a Disney Cruise with the family of one of my best friends from college. It was one of those rare days in life that was beautiful from sun up to sun down. I never really understood when I heard the phrase, "Living On Island Time," until this day. We relaxed by the water, played in the sun, and floated in the waves. No thoughts given to our daily lives, we were all living in the moment and it was amazing. This was the first time Cheetah had the chance to spend an entire day at a beach; the moment his feet hit the sand, he was home. He was smiling bigger, playing harder, and laughing louder than I had ever seen - he just came to life. When the day was drawing to a close and our party numbers began to dwindle, as everyone began heading back to the ship, Cheetah and I decided we would stay until the very last moment. We spent the last hour, together, in silence; sitting by the water, listening to the tide roll.

Three:
Junior/Senior Rivalry - This is an event that is part of the tradition of Mississippi University for Women, for over one hundred years now. It was the night that I was chosen by a sisterhood of dynamic, strong, and inspirational women to become a pledge of the BlackList Social Club; the top (most well-rounded) thirteen Juniors were selected as pledges. We pledges were brought together for the first time, that night. I was elated to be among the chosen, I knew that these stellar young women would become the sisters I was destined to call mine.

Four:
O'ma and O'pa's 50th wedding celebration - This was such a joy-filled day, there was a huge turn out of friends and people whose lives were touched by my grandparents; the outpouring of emotion was outrageous. Their relationship had such simple beginnings but over the years, the lives they built were big and involved more than just their families; they gave so much of themselves to others. The grandchildren performed a special skit that told their love story and celebrated all the change their marriage brought to the world. The entire extended family spent the weekend together, regaling vividly animated stories of our history.

Five:
October 29,2016 - A whirlwind trip to Memphis proved to be more than expected, I was coming to town to witness a dear friend marry the love of her life; the night was splendid.  The commitment and love the couple expressed for each other was beautifully enhanced by the promises and pledges given to them by their family and friends. As the reception commenced and old college friends assembled, it was as if no time had passed. Bathed in the light of The Levitt Shell, we laughed and danced the night away. I had felt disconnected from myself but that evening I realized that while I have more responsibilities than I did in 1996, I was still Jane and she is great.

Honorable mention:
Mardi Gras week 2013 - Tarzan and I took Cheetah to Disney World for the first time, it was just perfect. Sharing my favorite place with Cheetah and recounting memories of our Honeymoon with Tarzan fully cemented my connection to this magical place. Watching Cheetah's face light up time and time again allowed me to see the fantasy of the parks, through the eyes of a small child, which was something I hadn't had the chance to experience for myself.

This was a very revealing exercise, I was pleasantly surprised in the number of wonderful days it helped me commemorate. I have since spent time shuffling through photographs, deepening my connection with the gleeful days in my past. However, I am still working on the common denominators and clues that these Top Five/Six Happiest Days of my life have given me; but they are all rooted in great affection, filled with family and friends who compose my inner-most circle.















#2016TheYearOfTheJump


This year has been one of the best for growth and change, in my nearly 39 years