The Weight of Dreams

Dreams. 

It's a common thread between all people. I don't mean sleepy-time rendezvous with famous actors and actresses. When I refer to dreams I mean life-goals. I'm sure you hear it all the time, "If I won the lottery, I would..." "Someday, I'll be a..." "I would be happy if I could..."

Everyone has them. Some are smaller than others. "I want to get through tomorrow without smoking a cigarette." Some are medium-sized. "I want to open up a bakery." Some are huge. "I want to cure cancer."

While dreams differ from person to person and some are 'small' and some are 'large' none is more important than the other. A man whose dream is to quit smoking is no less important that a woman who pushes herself to get one step closer to opening a bakery. These both rival even a lofty, world-altering dream like curing cancer because regardless of the impact of their dreams, they each have one. They each wake up every day knowing that one day, someday, they are going to get to that place.

I hear often that families and relationships break apart because of dreams. A man leaves his wife because she doesn't support his dream of being a pilot. A woman leaves her husband because he doesn't want her to become an actress, ogled by men across the country. Even if they stay together, the bitter bite of resentment tailors their day-to-day life.

A relationship won't function properly if both parties aren't willing to support the dreams of their counterparts. This means celebrating successes, suffering through losses, making sacrifices together. As one. Each person has to be willing to put in the time, labor, money and effort into the dream for it to succeed. However, a dream cannot come true when the dreamer won't put the effort into it. No matter how much you want the dream of your partner to come true, you cannot accomplish it for them. You can support them. You can walk through the hard work with them. You can even reap the reward with them. But it won't be as hard for you... It won't be as sweet a payoff in the end.

I remember when Bryan and I were seriously talking about getting married. I'm sure I've mentioned it before, but it was almost like a business negotiation. Sure, we had love and passion, but were we compatible? Could we support each other's dreams and live a life together? We went back and forth to make sure that we would be true partners, chasing after our own and each others dreams. That we wouldn't discourage the other persons goals and we would certainly not let they other one give up after meeting obstacle after obstacle. We would figure it out together, we would make it happen.

All of us recognize that there are seasons in life. Hills and valleys. Life is unbearably hard at times and others it coasts by, fluid and effortless. There are times that you put yourself aside and give to others, because maybe it's not your moment.

What I want to know is this: What happens when your moment arrives? The time has come; Your dream is on the horizon. You can almost grab hold of it. It's on the tip of your tongue. You are waiting for the support, sacrifice and encouragement from your partner that you have given for however long a season and slowly you realize that it is not coming. The window of opportunity for your dream to come true is only so long, heck, you can even see the end in sight... And you're alone. The return on your investment in making your partners dream come true is not paying off.

What do you do?
Do you let it pass and hope it comes around again?
Do you cry?
Do you approach your partner and say pay up?
How do you recover from that kind of let down?
What do you do with the emotions? The anger? The sadness and heartbreak? The fear that you've committed yourself to someone who didn't truly have the intention of supporting you as you supported them?
How do you continue to support the dream of the person who let yours pass?

More importantly, how can you keep the weight of your failed dream from crushing your soul and the spirit of your relationship?

Love and Other Drugs...Wait... No, no, that can't be right.

As I was thinking about what my posts should be like this week, I realized that I actually have a lot to say! Now I just have to decide whether I should pack it all in a few posts or spread it out. Hmm, decisions, decisions.

Since we had a holiday yesterday, I'll go ahead and start there. My Valentines day was great! The education community had the day off because of President's Day, so I was stoked to be able to sleep in. If you count waking up at 9:30 sleeping in. :)

Bryan and I had stayed up past midnight on Monday morning, so I was the first to say happy Valentines day. When I woke up, I posted this on his wall. 

See the time stamp? It was literally two minutes after I opened my eyes. Gotta love that Facebook addiction! 

Then, a while later, Bryan melted my heart with this...

Love that man! :)

I went along with my day as planned. I didn't have any plans so I just kind of hung around the house. Actually, I started watching this show that is on the SyFy channel. It's called Being Human. It's about a vampire, a werewolf and a ghost and get this - they are all friends! It's pretty interesting. Not surprisingly, I got caught up in another SyFy show - Face Off. This one is a reality competition show about these make-up artists. I was blow away by the things these people could do! I was staring at the TV in awe when my Mom called and asked me to run an errand with her. 

More on that later this week. 

I got home just in time to meet the UPS guy so that he could give me our new.... oops. More on that later, too. :)

I was home for a few hours watching Mr. and Mrs. Smith and then Click when Bryan got home. And that glorious man walked in with these babies. 

There is one red rose... four white ones... and three pink roses. This is a coded message from my man. :) Of course, he apologized that the bouquet lacked yellow roses. He was bummed when they told him they were all out since they are my favorite flower. I said who CARES? Any flower would do. 

Once we quickly got ready, we headed out to dinner. We went to a local Mexican food place that I love. Bryan kept asking me if that is what I really wanted since its kind of like a Panera Bread vibed restaurant that serves Mexican grub. I assured him that I was fine with a more casual dining experience and after eating stuffing our faces, we went and picked up some items from Target for our puppies. 

After what seemed like an eternity (we disagree on almost everything concerning our German Shepherd and Maltese/Poodle pups) we managed to get out of there after spending $80 on pet supplies... and another small item for me. 

We headed out to Lemoore after shopping at Target to see Just Go With It. 

I loved it! It was a pretty cheesy premise, but I loved it. Especially after seeing Click. I used to hate that movie, but it resonates with me more now... maybe because I'm married? Who knows. 

That was my Valentines day! It was wonderful and low-key and perfect.

Just what I needed! 

Valentines

I hope your Valentine's day was as full of love as mine was.

My husband rocks my world. <3

In Honor of Valentines...

Valentine's Day.

Where do I even start?

As trite as it sounds, I love love. Love is one of the most powerful emotions the creatures on earth experience. You have love between spouses, love between parents and their children, love between two children, and love is even so powerful it can be experienced between humans and animals.

I do not, however, love Valentine's day. I feel like a lot of men love Valentine's day because it can be their "catch-all" day. I would guess that for most of the other 364 days men don't pay attention to the romantic needs of their prospective wives and girlfriends. They don't woo their women after they have sealed the deal and they use Valentine's day as a way to go all out for their partners.

Which frankly, sucks.

I'm sure a lot of women say they hate February 14 on a rule, because if they set their sights low, the man they are dating could just take them out to dinner at McDonald's and it would be an improvement. But then again, a lot of women might REALLY look forward to it because they know it is the ONE DAY that their man might do something really spectacular and that falling-in-love feeling comes back for a moment, oozes into the next few days and then finally tapers away.

And lets not forget, some men might use Valentine's day to make up all the time they spent thinking about and watching football, and then also having three or four different fantasy football leagues to attend to. So, they do something sweet for all the time their wives wasted on making dip and grabbing them chips from the pantry.

Sigh. How sad. All of those versions up there just make my heart ache.

As much as I can see why the idea of having a day to honor love could be admirable; To actually sit down and think about where you would be without the love of your family and friends. To take a step back and just remember the feelings you felt for your man or woman when loved stopped being a flutter in your stomach and became more of a choice and commitment. It seems like a good idea, in theory. In practice? I don't know. I'm not convinced yet. I feel like there is just not enough expressions of love during the rest of the year.

Now, just for the sake of saying it, expressions of love don't have to be over the top and costly. When my husband takes out the trash without me having to ask, that is a huge expression of love. When he feeds our dogs every day like clock work, its an expression of love. Even when he carts off to work to provide for our life together, that is an expression of love. And most days, I have to remind myself to take a moment to THINK about it. To remember that doing the tedious things we do for each other is a very important expression of love.

But there also has to be more than that. A man should court his wife every day. He should give her devoted attention and he should flirt with her and woo her just like he would if he was still trying to spark up a relationship with her. He should do things on a weekly or biweekly basis, like write her love notes and/or leave a flower on his pillow if he leaves before her in the morning. It should be a constant. Romance is so absolutely and completely necessary in a relationship.

Such simple things can be done to keep it alive. Maybe Valentine's day has killed the meaning of romance. Romance doesn't have to be a grand gesture. It doesn't have to be running through a town in Italy to stop her from marrying someone else. It certainly doesn't have to be thousands of dollars worth of jewelry. That is not what it needs or has to be. Its small things. Small continual moments, running after her out the door to give her just one last kiss, surprising her with a cup of coffee and the book she's obsessed with on a Saturday morning. It's running her a bath at the end of a rough day. Such simple, non-monetary expressions of love that will keep her eyes only on you.

That is what love is all about... Well, at least to me.

What I DO love about Valentine's day is kind of specific to my job. Its so cute to get a couple of students in the office that hand out Valentine's day cards, looking so sweet and giving. They get so excited when they hand their special card to you.

Two days ago two little girls, of Kindergarten age, came in and one handed us each a book-marker and the other handed us a valentine. When I said thank you and they moved on, I looked at them both more closely.

The second little girl, Lainee, gave a Valentine's day card that was a jumbled puzzle! And each piece was a sticker, which you would peel off and stick to the other side, in the appropriate numbered box.

This is the front, almost halfway through the Valentine card.

This is the back! So far so good!


Ta-DA! So cute. Its a PUG. And its kind of awesome because I have... or had a pug. My dad kind of adopted her! :)


On other love-related news, its February 12. It would be my Mom and Dad's anniversary. And even though they don't celebrate it, us girls still do. It's still a part of our history. The best thing my Mom and Dad ever did was have us girls... for me, specifically Alie and Kari. I'm so happy that when I was little I had annoying big sisters to pick on me and be there for me. Now, I'm even happier that my big sisters are my best friends.

Always,

Matters of the Heart

**This post is totally coming from a disheartened Megan. Just an FYI for you.**

Most of the time I am okay with coming from a broken family. Most of the time I feel like I have overcome a lot of obstacles to get me to where I am today. And I feel like so far, I've succeeded.

Yes, I've made mistakes. Little ones and big ones. But I've learned. I've grown. I've managed to escape huge disasters. A lot of people that know me have said at one point, "I have no clue how you and your sisters turned out the way you did."

But sometimes things happen. Events in a day. Something that triggers a memory. Sometimes I'll look at the picture I have of my Mom and Dad in the mountains with snow surrounding them and I remember the casualties.

I feel the ache in my heart knowing that my future children (if I have any) will never see their grandparents together. And maybe worse, I know that Emma and Brody, who are here now, will never get to go camping with their grandma and grandpa.. something that they loved to do. Or go to the lake and swim. Or swim in the pool with them together. When they are old enough, they might hear my parents love story, but they won't really get it, won't understand it. It'll be foreign.

I know that everything happens for a reason. I know that God has a plan that I am not going to even try to figure out. And I know that the people that my parents are with now are so awesome and I am happy to have them in my life.

But I also mourn the loss for my original family of 5. I get sad at how much the decisions that our parents made has affected not only their lives, but all of ours too. I'm sad that there are all these rivers and valleys between the five of us and we'll never find a bridge or walk the distance to find each other again.

Luckily, humans adapt. Even though part of me will always wish that I could revert time and control every detail to make things happen a different way, I will always reject the idea. I would never want to disrupt what we all have now.

Alison, a woman I admire so much, has a wonderful husband and a beautiful family. I would never risk altering her life.

Kari, my fierce and loving sister is so happy with her life and her hubby and lil Gunther and their new house that they are making a home more and more each day... and to think of doing anything in the past that might change that gets automatically thrown out.

Maybe because I am single and still figuring life out, I have time to think about these things. Maybe because I was the only one left when my family finally cut the ties and I watched it all happen I have a different view. I don't know.

I just know that nights like tonight I wish I could call my parents and get some type of advice. Which I could probably still do, but why bring it up when everyone has moved on?

Reflection

Four years ago, I was seventeen years old; I was about to graduate high school. I remember that it was a warm day, but I was cuddled on the couch with my first love, Bryan. I have absolutely no recollection of what we were watching, because (usually) I have a really bad memory. But I remember this day because this was an important moment in my life. Around this day, the twenty-second of May, I asked Bryan to be my boyfriend. I told him that I was ready to give our relationship another shot. I wanted one more chance to give the relationship all that I had to give and to see where it went. Bryan accepted. He wanted another shot at us, too.

Roughly a month later, I was having a really hard time with life. I was living solely with my Dad, who was having major issues at the time. I didn't have a license, I was working full time at Mervyns to make ends meet, I had no relationship with my Mom. One sister was on the east coast, one sister was in southern California and my best friend had moved to Fresno. Oh, and my boyfriend lived three hours away. Most importantly, I had almost no relationship with God.

I was totally and completely alone. When I was younger, I had an ongoing fight with depression. Sometimes it consumed me. After graduation, I had no one, no hope and no faith. I was just a being. I fought hard to keep my head above water.

During this time, instead of going out and partying with the people that stayed in Hanford, I stayed home. I awoke every day that summer at 11:30. I had three Oreos and a glass of milk that I ate while watching the first 15 minutes of 'Who Wants to Be a Millionaire' in whatever room that had a TV that my Dad was not passed out in. I took 15 minutes to shower, watched All My Children for an hour as I did my make-up and got dressed. At one, I did my hair. At one-fifteen, I would try to wake my Dad up. On the days that I succeeded, I drove him and myself to Mervyn's and told him to pick me up at eleven that night. If he didn't wake up, I took the truck and drove myself.

I would work from 2:00 to 11:00 every day. On the nights that I drove, I would cautiously drive myself home. On the nights that I told my dad to pick me up, 25% of the time he wouldn't show. One time, I walked home. Other times, I got a ride from a friend that would mercifully climb out of bed to come get me. Sometimes, I would get a ride from a friend at work. Once, I called my Mom. She dropped me off in tears. When he would be there, he would have already climbed out of the drivers’ seat into the passenger side; because he knew that I would not let him drive me.

I would go home, log on to the computer, surf the internet, listen to music and would be asleep by 2:00 every morning.

Amazing. To even type this. To even have lived that life. Fast forward four years and I am sitting in the cutest house ever, with my cat, Danny, curled up on my right side. I am sitting on my bed with a brand-new laptop that I am working as many hours as I can to pay off. I look up and I see my tiny flat screen TV that I bought with Christmas money. I see all the clothes that I have paid for. The furniture I have acquired. I know that outside the wall that I'm leaning against, my car, that I pay for every single month is sitting there, shining in the sun. I can bask in the fact that I don't have to return to my awesome accounting job for three days because of the Holiday on Monday. I know that I can walk into my backyard, play with my dog, and soak up the sun. I know that in 18 minutes, my best friend is going to be off work and on her way home so that we can hang out.

Not everything that I have done over the past four years has worked out. But just taking the time to remember what I've gone through, where I was, who I was and to appreciate where I am, who I have, what I have and who I am is like breathing fresh air. It’s like stepping out of your car after a long drive in the mountains and smelling the pine trees. Hearing the kids splashing in the lake. It’s like being transported into one of your favorite memories.

The past year of my life has passed so quickly, with so many changes. And now that it's starting to slow, God is pulling my heart to look back, to reflect, to remember. Even though some of it hurts, He is showing me that He delivered me. He answered all the prayers that I prayed. Maybe not in the way that I wanted or when I wanted but in the way that I needed and on His precious time.

God has created such a beautiful moment for me today.

I was dreading today. I was dreading it because both Bryan and I, a few months after we renewed our relationship, could NOT remember what day we did it on. So four years ago, I picked May 22. I picked the 22nd because 22 has always been my favorite number. And here it is. The 22 is today. Like I said, I was dreading it. I didn't want to remember all the 'good times' with Bryan. I didn't want to wonder what it would be like if we were still together today. I've prayed and asked God all week to be with me. To help it be a nice day to remember, not one that throws me off. I prayed and again, He was most faithful. He used today to remind me of His unending love. He reminded me that four years ago, I didn't have God in my life but I do now. He showed me the difference of living in this world without Him and living in this world in Him.

It is inspiring. His grace and His mercy astound me. Four years ago I was angry with God. Angry enough to turn away from him. Angry enough to scream and cry and doubt him. I was angry that my life had been such a train wreck. Everyone would say, "God knows the deepest desires of your heart and He is faithful." Then at the time, He knew that my deepest desire was to have my family back. To rewind and have a happy childhood filled with awesome memories and regular family problems. He knew how pained I was that I had missed out on my Mom and Dads best days, because once I arrived there were hardly any. He knew how I coveted my sisters’ memories of my Mom and Dad, happy and in love. I rarely got to see that. Both He and I remember how I would curse his name, how much I sinned, and still sin. And yet he cradles me and loves me like no one this earth ever can. He blesses me each and every day even though I don't deserve it.

What an awesome God.