Hello, Spring.

Well folks, spring has sprung. I know it's not technically spring until the twentieth, but it has officially begun in my world. You see, I have this weird thing about me where something awful happens every spring. Yesterday was that day, and this year it was two things. One thing, which I won't bore you with, was simply a major let down by someone I thought I could trust. That's life. It hurts and I have regrets, but "life keeps moving on." The other, was the passing of my great-great-grandma. Even though I messaged one of my friends yesterday and made the comment, "everything sucks right now," I'm trying to learn from the legacy of my amazing grandmother. I want her wonderful life to overshadow the pain of her loss and the devastation I feel from being let down (yet again).

Over the summer, I had my last semi-coherent conversation with my grandma. She wasn't all there. She was crying for her mom, looking for her deceased husband, and singing songs that were too slurred to be able to tell what they were. I was able to choke back my tears for a while. In the midst of her mental confusion and physical pain, she looked me in the eyes and asked me if I needed anything. I stared at her for a moment in disbelief. Everything about this woman was summed up in this moment, and I knew it. There she was weak, unable to care for herself, in pain, missing her family that had passed before her, and she still thought of someone else - me. In the middle of her suffering, she still wanted to be there for someone who needed her.

That is everything I want to be. Though "everything sucks," I don't want to let my hurt get in the way of my calling. I don't want my regret to prevent me from leading a better, wiser life. I want to rise above and be the servant of God that I was born to be. I want to be there for others no matter what.

The next few weeks will be hard, no doubt. There are people that I will have to see that I don't want to; people I will want to see that I no longer can; conversations I don't want to have, but will; questions I don't have answers to; regrets I will make peace with; and hopes that will never come true. As easy as it will be for me to wallow in my pain, I hope that I will be even half the woman that my grandma was, and choose to look beyond myself by reaching out to someone in need.