“Take me back to the night we met. And then I can tell myself what the hell I’m supposed to do And then I can tell myself not to ride along with you” -Lord Huron The Night We Met

The presence of another person, that continued conversation and that “I’m an adult and just now meeting you” feeling. He created so much comfort just in his presence that I began to believe he was really something. He made the day, at that point in my life, so much.

And maybe all my other days aren’t meant to be so much. Maybe there is someplace better, with someone, who if not better, is at least more right.

But now I find myself suffocated by that presence he created. Is there a limit to the time we afford grief when the thing was barely a thing? And maybe its not grief as it is an occasional dull ache, and I don’t know how much of it is him, and how much is just life or me.

But I am quite sure I have passed the imaginary threshold of the time allowed to want something back. It’s been 5 years. When the actual time I spent with him, 3 months.

We were fine and then we were busy and then we were not fine. This story contiunally in three parts.

But I am okay. And he made things more than ok and I cannot have a man doing that when it is so clearly time to not be more than ok.

So it’s time to figure out who I am somewhere else. Obviously not going to be today, but tomorrow maybe, or next week, or well…sometime soon.

July 14 / 2015
Author Ginger
Category Missions
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Today has been OK

Today was a day I needed to remind myself to be happy and to try hard to not put my happiness in ONE thing. Let the happiness be known in things that are easily forgotten: Make the bed. Hold the door open for strangers. Smile. Look other people in the eye. Always try again–fear doesn’t absolve you from the attempt, or the conversation, or the adventure–Forgiveness is pretty marvelous! And, oh yeah, put your phone down! Eat greens; mostly greens because that extra 10 pounds you put on isn’t going to work itself out. Prioritize your health–and happiness too, because life is short. Kindness. Words are important. Honesty above all else. And the music of Alan Jackson. Not everyone is good, but the good ones will be around when you need it the most.  Remember your value. Look at value as a tree with strong roots that bends with the wind–trust your ability to bend/adapt.  Risks are OK.  They help you grow, and move forward. But it can and will change. Remember the story of Jesus. That story has a whole heck of a lot to do with love, humility, love, forgiveness, love, humanity and (oh yeah) LOVE.  Keep your door open because that’s who you are. Take the twenty minute walk because you ALWAYS feel better. The wins/good stuff are born of small, everyday actions. But even that will change. Also, go buy that bundle of fresh flowers you usually are happy you did.

And lastly this song:

July 07 / 2015
Author Ginger
Category Uncategorized
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Value + Lipstick

I’ve been quietly lately. My silence has been difficult. Mostly because I’ve been deeply ambivalent about sharing. Most of my blogging career I have ended up sharing the truest parts of me and very much the most vulnerable. I enjoyed when I felt connected with just ONE person. Someone reaching out in the murky land of the internet to say Me too! It helped me feel less alone and more seen.

I feel so strongly to share hard truths because writing is the only way I know to make any of this bearable, to wrangle the affection when there’s no one left to receive it, and to find meaning in the chaos.

But I have recently discovered the harshness of bringing those things to light. When exposed to the wrong person it can damage quite deeply.

And I have had to do some things lately that have been really quite difficult. And these things didn’t really have anything to do with my wants or needs, so much as (well crap) I have no choice. So I fell silent….

And now it’s a delicate battle of contradictions for me:  I want a big life. But I also enjoy a simple, very simple life. I want to write in a public way but I certainly want my privacy when convenient. I want a beautiful yard but am worried about water shortage. Yes, that is how delicate my battle is today….

I guess this is all just who I am. What I believe. My value system. Having faith that my value system will help me cut through the noise. And show me the path. But  the path is the most difficult, right?

So I swipe on an extra coat of lipstick for courage and practice remaining soft–feeling the things. After all that’s what I’ve enjoyed sharing the most!

Be easy…..

And this album has taken up most of my listening space these days:

May 28 / 2015
Author Ginger
Category Missions
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A letter to Jaxson

Becoming a parent is much like being a transformer, kid. I transform as the times hit me. I didn’t come into this with all the answers, like I thought my parents had. I remember thinking as a kid that my parents existed ALWAYS just to be my parent. I didn’t think of them as human beings with hearts that ached or struggled or even had their own dreams. To me they went to work, made me dinner, got me dressed, and drove me places. They didn’t make mistakes, those just didn’t happen. Turns out, they are human and only human. My hope for you is to know I’m human.

Being your mom has changed me and continues to change me in a fundamental way. I have loads more patience and can let a house chore or two go undone if you need me to sit with you to do homework. But being a parent is also terrifying, restrictive at times, overwhelming, and emotionally exhausting. As a woman, I struggle every day to figure out where I should lie on the spectrum of motherhood. I want to throw myself in my work and work for something that has strong meaning and follows along with my passion but I also want to be home by 5 to have dinner on the table. I want to attend every event I can to meet more people in this amazing city but I also want those events to be kid friendly so that you will be entertained enough to want to experience them with me. I have to work to thrive, but does that mean I follow all the dreams I have? What if those paths continue to fall or change? Am I choosing what is best? And sometimes, all of this balancing feels absolutely impossible.

As I push through all of this toward the elusive dream of “working mom,” it hits me once again that nothing, not anything, is ever black and white. It’s not a matter of “I can have this, or I can have that,” and one way is happiness and the other is tragedy. There will be triumphs and failures and sacrifices down any road. And believe me, you will want so badly for the world to be to make sense and open up doors that are made for us, but kiddo, that’s just not how it works. And that’s part of growing up, realizing that really nothing is simple or easy, and that you have to find joy in the ride, peace in spite of it all.

Right now, I’m working on giving myself the room to not know, to try and if I fail then try again until I find something that works. I pray as you grow that I can teach you that, too. I hope we can find that path together, Jaxson James, the path that leaves room for us to make mistakes as we figure this all out. You and me, kid.

I love you no matter what!

**photos by Brent Brooner**

May 21 / 2015
Author Ginger
Category Little Mr.
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Ten Tons of Silence.

I have talked of my dad on this space. Mainly about coping with his death.

I remember when I started blogging (sometime back in 2006) I was visiting him in my home town and I tried to show him how to read my blog. I could tell immediately he was never going to remember.

Now, going on the 5th year of him no longer in this world — I think of him more often than I ever did. I’ve never really written about the dynamic I had with dad — because It’s tricky.

Dad and I always loved each other, very much so, but for a solid decade, pretty much his last decade, I didn’t like him. He accepted it as fact. I thought the “me and dad thing” was a small part of my life, and, because it was inconvenient to me, I kept it in the dark. Sure, we talked. But not often. Sure, I visited him. But not often.

Talking through what I needed from him, as my dad, articulates all the hurt and that is like looking in a magnifying mirror at my most ugly parts. The bad part of doing that now after he is gone is I hear only silence. Sometimes that silence is like ten tons on my heart.

In simplified hindsight, I can see how the privilege of reconciliation makes sense.  Everything I didn’t like of him no longer matters, I loved him regardless. And that is a life lesson I learned the unfortunate hard way.

I’m still not the person I’m becoming, but the process has become the purpose. This mistake is something I don’t have the ability to make again. I catch myself thinking of my attitude and reminding myself how to live a more hopeful, resilient and mindful way.

I grieve. But who doesn’t? Anyone who has lost will grieve. But with my grief I ask myself the hard questions: Who are you? Which is also, who do you want to be? And who do you want to love?

I’m the person who will send an apology in just moments of the fight. I’m the person who says I screwed up, I made a mistake. I ask for help. I try to remember thank you and your welcome and I’m sorry. I even am more open to be at the edge of the cliff and says screw-it-I’ve-got-to-try. I try to give voice to the things that feel terrifying in their truth and importance.

I really try. That’s the point. I just wish my dad were here to tell him face to face what I have learned.

March 20 / 2015
Author Ginger
Category DAD
Comments No Comments
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