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.

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.

#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

They left a legacy.

Yesterday she would have been 95; to say she was the best grandmother I could have asked for would be an injustice. She was half my heart, the snort in my laugh and the light in my eyes. Her blood runs through my veins and continues to pump life through my scarred and lonesome heart. Sure the pain is somewhat dulled but my eyes still well up, easily spilling over with the mere thought of my life without her.

The loss of her sometimes seems to overshadow the loss of O'pa but I think that's just because we helped each other through loosing him. I stayed with her for over a week after he died because I wasn't sure I would be able to breathe again, if I left their house. We spent days without talking, going through the motions. I would fix her meals and we would both pretend to eat; at night I would lie beside her and we would cry until our bodies ran out of steam. On the night before I left she admitted to staying up late the weeks he was sick, and spending hours sitting in his chair just to feel close to him and smell him; her honesty was so comforting that I admitted to sneaking into his room when my shift was over and it was someone else's turn with him, because I was afraid I would regret not being with him for every second he had remaining. That night was the first night I hadn't cried my self to sleep since the beginning of August (he died on August 18th). I still didn't want to leave the safety of their home but at least I wasn't leaving scared, she had given me hope because I still had her.






You see, my relationship with my O'ma and O'pa was anything but typical. I was blessed with a wonderful set of parents who have always done above and beyond what parents (and people) should do for me, but O'ma and O'pa were like Parents+. I spent my Summer, Winter and Spring breaks happily by their sides. In large part, I have them to thank for being able to see all 48 Continetial United States; our times in the camper, seeing America will never be forgotten. We stayed up late playing games, teasing each other, and mapping out the next day's route. We spent countless hours discussing life, love, and trials. I was given unriveled access to their stories, lives and histories; nothing was off the table, I could ask them anything. There were times when I could tell that it was a tough topic, there were many pregnant pauses and answers that began with, "It was a different time..." They told me the truth.

There were times in their past where they disappointed themselves; but as they recounted these moments, they made sure to inform me that Parents and Grandparents are people and that they make mistakes. This was probably the best information they ever game me; sure it lowered the pedestal I had placed them on, but it was vital. I was able to go back to this lesson as time marched on. I used it as a point of reference with my parents and once I became a parent; it puts things in perspective and lowers anxiety levels when considering some of the tough choices that parents have to make.

These two were good people. They showed me how to be a person, how to live my life, and how to die with dignity. The world was a better place because of them and I am a better person for having known them. This legacy that they left me, must be handled with care and put into place. I will leave this earth much better than how I found it.

Everybody loves Muhammad Ali.

This past weekend Tarzan, Cheetah, and I headed to The Big Easy, or Our City - per Cheetah.  Tarzan had a competition to attend and we decided to make the most of his built up Hilton points and get out of Cajun Country for a couple of days.  After spending Friday as a family and doing the zoo, Cheetah and I spent Saturday hitting the high notes.  We walked nearly 17 miles in those 2 days, exploring Our City and getting to know each other.  We asked each other hard questions and talked about subjects that make parents uneasy.  We talked about drugs, homelessness, love, statues, and violence.  It seemed that around every corner was another verbal mile marker:  a moment to teach him how the world works; a moment to stop and hug; a moment to reflect in a parent's loss for words.

After lunch and a power nap we rode the riverside trolley to the end of the line with the intention of walking back to the hotel, after grabbing a bite to eat.  We were discussing all the statues we had seen that day and what made each person worthy of becoming a permanent part of the New Orleans scenery.  We discussed Andrew Jackson, Henry Clay, and Joan of Arc.  At this point in the conversation I noticed that a large rambunctious group of young men, that were celebrating, had been walking ahead of us for more than 5 blocks.  I discerned that though they were partying and their conversation was being carried well beyond our ears, their language was noticeably censored.  I was impressed that such spirited men could be aware of young, impressionable ears.

As we got closer to Café Du Monde, Cheetah began discussing the statues of Louis Armstrong and Antione “Fats” Domino, "Mom I have a question that is hard and I don't think you will have an answer.  Why are there not more statues of black people, why are there only statues of musicians?  Lots of black people have done great things."  A bit leery of how to answer his inquiry I carefully began constructing my answer.  "Dude that is a really good question and you're right, I don't really have an answer.  It doesn't make sense."  I realized that while I was answering Cheetah, the young men had grown silent and were mouthing things to each other and began glancing back towards us.  “I mean what about Martin Luther King, Jr or Muhammad Ali?”  He added, “Everyone loves Muhammad Ali.”

Before I knew it, we had physically collided with the group of young men.  They had all turned around to face us and were smiling.  One guy grabbed The Boy's arm and asked if he could shake his hand, confused he obliged and took his hand.  Another young man then hugged me and said he was really touched by my honest answers and frank conversation that I was having with my son.  With watery eyes he turned to his friends and said, "I am speechless."  They all nodded and added their pieces of praise to my loving son, gave him high fives, and we all voiced our good wishes.  They headed towards Bourbon Street while we kept moving towards our hotel.

Cheetah smiled and said, “See Mom, everyone loves Muhammad Ali.”


Laughing, I hugged him tightly.  “I believe you’re right,” I said.








 

A journey interrupted.

I have been on a journey.  Like every other journey it proved to be enlightening, painful, and a bit disappointing.  In just over 2 years I have lost 60lbs, learned how to defend myself, and reclaimed my estranged self confidence.  Sadly my body couldn't keep up with my spirit.  So with a trick knee and a few bulging discs, I have had to hang up my gi and resign my goals of wearing a black belt.

For several months I have been mourning the loss of my four year plan.  It was so exciting to have a goal again, a reason to work hard and strive for more.  I have been lost and depressed.  However, I am determined that this will be a mere hurdle and not a set back.  With some lifestyle changes, I have been able to keep the weight off but I am still in search for the next step.

Tarzan and I have a goal for 2025, but what will 2015-2025 have in store?  For now I will work on living life and possibly cultivating my writing.  It is possible that dust and cat hair aren't the only things residing in my laptop, may be inspiration lives there too.  Checking Google will be the obvious next step, there is bound to be an app for that...