Ladybug Landing

Growing up I went to my Nana and Papa's house frequently. She would keep us weeks at a time in the summers. Nana was for a grandmother but also didn't take any back talk or attitude. When I was 10 years old, I moved in with Nana and Papa. My room was downstairs, without a door and had the washer and dryer in the room. Eventually they put on saloon like doors for a little privacy. I lived there until I turned 13. Big years living with your grandparents. Vital years really, but I wouldn't have had it any other way. I always felt connected to my Nana. We were a lot a like. I still wonder what she would think of me now and how I turned out. I would help around the property, help plant cactus (and laugh hysterically together after because we were so sweaty and gross), helped feed the animals, water the trees, water the plants, ride my bike all the time. I actually played out doors every day. Sometimes I was allowed to eat ice cream for dinner when no one wanted to c...

Not long ago one of my soul sister friends said to me, fight for your healing. This has been weighing heavy on my heart lately because I have not been fighting for my healing.   Those who know me very well know that I am kind of a melancholy person. I have always been this way even as a child. I guess maybe I was born this way and when you are born with a certain personality trait it is hard to be anything else. I may not be able to fully get rid of the inner melancholy but I can at least try and find things that bring me out of my shell, things that make me laugh, things that require me to step outside of my comfort zone. Sitting in my room by myself all the time is not healthy (yes I still do this).  Darkness continues to fall upon me more often than not. The older I get the harder it is to wade through the dark to find the light. I try and allow it to come and go but when it comes so frequently I become discouraged and disappointed in myself causing the cyc...

On this day 4 years ago I found my mom dead in her bed. Over the years I have expressed what that moment felt like and still 4 years later there are no words to adequately put to words what that moment was like. I am not sure how it has been 4 years already and I miss her just as much now as I did the day I found her. The grief has shifted and I am able to carry it differently but I still miss her. 4 years ago I was angry with her. Alcoholism is a hard disease to manage when it has consumed one of the most important people in your life. I lost my mom before she died. I lost the mom I knew she was deep inside that dark hell she lived in. I couldn’t save her. It has taken a long time for me to process her death and her life. I couldn’t save her because I was her daughter and she needed to be able to save herself. But I tried my hardest to save her, or I thought I tried my hardest. I still feel I am not able to forgive myself for walking away from her a few days before she di...

I usually use this blog for moments of growth and reflection. Tonight I want to share a moment of grief that caught me off guard. A moment that took my breath away. I was driving home tonight and I was thinking about random things and had the thought of fire fighters and paramedics and what they see in their careers which lead to the memory that took my breath. Over the years and especially in the beginning of this journey I needed to know every detail of the day Mckenna died. I wanted to hear from others that were involved that day, I wanted to hear their stories. I was given the opportunity to speak with the paramedic and EMT. It's actually a really neat story of how it happened but that may be a story for another time. The moment that I was remembering tonight was from the EMT. When I called 911 I was so hysterical that they could not understand what I was saying so they automatically dispatched a code but they did not say if it was an adult or child. The EMT shared that ...

I may have been built from the fire but I was also lost in the fire .  I have been reflecting a lot on my life and where I am today. A few months back I wanted to join the Glendale Fire Crisis Response team again. I felt I was ready to do what I feel I am meant to be doing. I was finally able to do the ride along in Dec and it felt good to be back on the van. I knew it would be a different experience this time around. As an intern it almost killed me (literally). I had the interview and I was picked to join the team again. Again it felt right and felt like “home” to be at the fire station and being part of the team again. They have training classes and in one of the classes I was drowning in memories. Personally I have had the crisis response team show up for 3 different family members and all very traumatic circumstances. I was drowning in the memories of the calls I went on as an intern. All 8 hours of the class I was trying to swim through the memories without them taki...