I found Happiness

The other day the Pilot plucked an eyelash off my cheek, holding it out so that I could make a wish and blow it away. A silly notion, to wish upon a piece of eyelash. Eyelashes fall all the time, what makes it special? And yet, I went in for the wish. But then, I hesitated.

My go-to wish for birthday candles, shooting stars, and eyelashes had, for most of my adult life, been for happiness. Eyes squeezed tight, fists balled, thinking with all my might, I wish I could be happy again. I was finished with depressed, unwilling to be simply content. I wanted euphoria. I wanted to wake up every morning excited about the day ahead. I wanted to go to sleep with a smile on my face. I did not want to have to push myself through each moment of each day. And so, I wished for happiness.

I sat on the couch staring at the lash on his calloused finger. My wish on the tip of my brain. But another thought floated in. Why wish for something you already have? I was surrounded by happiness. I was sitting across from my love who was patiently waiting for me to relieve him of the eyelash. Sitting cozy in the apartment of a dear friend who after only a few short weeks knew all my hopes and dreams, laughing with a girl who just a few hours earlier had begged me to never leave Texas. I was drinking wine, telling stories and giggling. Staring at that simple eyelash I realized how happy I had become.

In high school I had moments of fleeting happiness. Mostly it was dramatic and heartbreaking filled with backstabbing and fair weather friends.

In college I was miserable from start to finish.

Then I found London. I was in a constant state of euphoria. I made amazing,lasting friends. I didn't think it was possible to ever be happier.

When I moved to Copenhagen I immediately realized I didn't fit. The leftover high of London quickly wore off as I struggled to make friends and find my niche. I gave up. I went home.

At home I took a look at the past five years. I had picked up and moved seven times. Seven times. It thrilled me yet terrified me. Why couldn't I stay put? Would I ever be able to settle down for a moment?

Three months ago I moved to Austin. It was a whim, a fancy, a "hey, I have nothing better to do and I hate the cold, so why not?!" 

My mother was cautious and nervous but supportive. "Just, please don't meet a Texas boy and never come back. Promise you'll come back!"

B3 warned me of the difficulties of starting over in a new city , wary of me venturing off on my own without a plan. "It will be exciting and terrifying and hard as hell and you'll want to give up. Don't give up."

Everyone simultaneously applauded my bravery and begged me not to go.

I prayed about it. I was slowly arriving to the point where I would give up on traveling around. I began to yearn for a permanent place. A home all my own. Friends who would last longer than a few months. I wanted solid relationships and the comfort of a city I knew like the back of my hand. I never settled long enough to discover secret hideaways and hole in the wall perfections.

I prayed that I would find my place. I prayed that if Austin wasn't my place I would find out soon, before I left, so I wouldn't have to continue moving all over the country, just searching for happiness.

I prayed for happiness and strength to get me through the difficult times; strength to keep myself from doubting my abilities. The first couple months (and still, yes, still) I prayed for the right kind of friendships, I prayed for friends who would make me a better person. I prayed for holy and beautiful friendships.

Now here I am. Three months in, absolutely in love with everything. In love with Austin, in love with my incredible group of friends, and head over heels in love with the Pilot. I am in awe of my own happiness, in awe of God’s blessings, in awe of life. I haven’t been able to write a single word lately because I am finding it impossible to put into words my elation and thanksgiving. I want to scream from the mountaintops (if Austin had mountains…) about how beautiful my life is. Sometimes I feel a little embarrassed, but I’m not sorry I’m happy! I’ve been waiting for this day. Searching for this day. Searching for the moment where my heart could rest, could let out a sigh of relief and just bask.

I’m so happy it almost hurts.

I squeezed my eyes shut, balled my fists and instead of wishing simply said thank you as I blew the lash to where wishes go.

Dear Sister,

My Sweet Bear,

I’ve been having difficulty starting this. How can I presume to have knowledge enough to advise you? But as your sister, as your sponsor, as one who loves you so incredibly much, I want to try.

Sometimes I cannot believe you are sixteen. It thrills me and terrifies me at the same time. I am thrilled to see the woman you are becoming – you are beautiful, smart, a leader. Every day I amazed at your poise, your demeanor, your ability to carry on with a smile despite your illness.

But I am terrified. Terrified of what the world may have in store for you. I am scared because I remember when I was sixteen. I remember the trials, obstacles and heartbreak. High school was full of pressure and temptation. I made mistakes and had many regrets. IF I could spare you from these mistakes and just provide you with the lessons I would. But you may not make the same mistakes. No, you won’t. You are smarter than that. You have seen what it did to me. Unfortunately, you will make your own mistakes. You will cry. You will hurt. But you will learn.

Of course there will be millions of wonderful experiences as well. You will discover new things, you will live new experience, and you will find love.

You will find love in true friendships, love in a boy who makes your belly erupt with butterflies. Love in a mother who is always there no matter what you do, who seems to understand your deepest fears, your deepest desires; love in a your father who you will begin to understand as you grow older, who at the perfect moment will show his love and support though he may falter in his understanding of the vast emotions you are experiencing. Love in your brothers who will always strive to protect you, who will always support you but expect you to try your hardest and do your best. Love in your sisters who have been there from the beginning, who no matter how much you change, will always be the same. They – we – will be the constants in your life.

Most important, you will find the love of God. It is the most complex, most difficult love to understand and occasionally, to accept. But it is the most rewarding love, the most fulfilling. This love fills you, guides you, comforts you. This love makes you; it makes all the other loves in your life. All of these loves carry you through the difficult times, the wonderful times, even the plain-old, nothing special times.

Remember that love.

So, my pretty little sister, what advice can I give you?

1.       Always be yourself. Do not be embarrassed by who you are. Do not change to please others – you will regret it later and it will cause lasting damage. This is not uncommon, especially as you near college. So hold on to yourself. Love who you are. (I do!)

2.       Do not give in to pressure. This may be the most difficult piece of advice to follow because you may not notice the pressure. It could come in the form of friends talking, your friends beginning to change, beginning to have new experiences. You may feel left out, you may feel embarrassed for not joining them. But again, be true to who you are. Hold out. I promise you, looking back you’ll never think you were old enough.

3.       Take advantage of opportunities. Travel, be spontaneous, love. Take chances.

4.       Volunteer – give back, immerse yourself in a life you have never experienced and make it better.

5.       Do not worry about what others expect you. Do not worry about following the social norm.

6.       Make sure you are happy. Do not settle with simply content.

7.       Live life completely. Laugh often. Sing and dance every day, even if it is just in the kitchen.

8.       Work hard, commit to your dreams and fulfill them.

9.       Exercise. Seriously, it’s good for the body and the soul.

10.   No matter what – this is so important that I am saying it again – know that God loves you. He does. He needs you and you need him. Catholicism may be difficult at times, you may doubt, you may fall away. But you must never turn away from God. Without him life is empty. I have turned away and this is a lesson I do not want you to have to experience to learn from. It was the most difficult, empty time in my life. You need God, Bear. His miracles are always surrounding us. His love showers us. Love him.

There is my little bit of knowledge. It’s not nearly enough but it is all I have. Together we will learn more. You are a beautiful person Bear, you have a beautiful soul, and I am so blessed to be your sister. I love you a ridiculous amount.

With faith and love,

Annie

Dear Crush,

Dear Pilot,

I am trying to put into words how I feel about you. When I say your name my stomach somersaults. When someone from home asks if I’ve met anyone here I immediately think of you and smile. Before I realized it I was planning my activities around you. Where you would be I would go. I will go. I find myself looking forward to each time I will see you and thinking of new opportunities for us to interact.

When asked what it was about you that I liked all I could say was you were flying high above the bar I had set. And that bar is pretty high. I like you because you make me want to be the best version of me possible. I like you because you have a southern drawl that makes me melt. I like you because when something goes wrong you go right to work trying to figure out how to fix it. I like you because you are kind, you have a great sense of humor, you can entertain an entire room with your thrilling stories. I like you because you sing at church without opening the hymnal. I like you because you make sly comments under your breath that make me giggle. But most of all, I like you because the first time I heard your voice I looked up at you and haven’t been able to look away since.

Sometimes when I allow myself to think too far ahead and let my imagination run wild I think perhaps you are the reason for Texas. You were the draw, the reason why God helped me to make my way down here without a plan. You are why every prayer was answered and nothing got in my way. I was meant to meet you, you were meant to meet me.

But that thought terrifies me. Because, what if it is not true? What if I have fallen head over heels in this short time and to you I’m just a girl. What if I flirt too much or too little? What if I scare you away? What if I’m not ready to meet the man who I’m meant to be with? What if the life I lived before doesn’t fit with the life you live now? What if I’m not meant for you but I’ve built you up so much no one will ever live up to you? What if I’m never more than that girl from Vermont to you?

Pilot, I want to be more than that girl. I want to be The Girl. The One. I want you to take me flying in the sunset. I want you to call me when you’ve had a good day and text me when you think of something funny. I want you to think of me when you need a happy thought. I want you to get butterflies when you hear my voice. I want your face to light up when you see me. I want to be the girl you take home to your parents, the girl you introduce to your childhood friends. I want to be the girl you take to Italy, the girl you want next to you on all your adventures.

How have you done this to me? To the girl who put up walls. The girl who goes on two dates and gets bored. How have you made such an impression on me that I have thrown out all of my tried and true ways to catch a man’s attention? Instead I’m nervous. I’m quieter than usual. I tiptoe. I want to build a friendship and mutual respect. I want to take this slowly and not mess anything up. Yet I’m impatient. I want you to call me now.  I want you to ask me out now. I want you to fall for me as I’ve fallen for you right now. Why do you have this affect on me? What will make it stop?

Yours, head over heels and completely confused, forever,

Annie

She Lived With Laughter in Her Heart

I believe my epitaph (or I hope) will read, “She lived with Laughter in Her Heart.” At my house we have a sign that says “Live, Laugh, Love,” a saying that has exploded within the young lady population. It’s something to live by, and I believe my saying ties it all together.

My parents taught us to give everything of ourselves, to help others at every opportunity possible; to be aware that we are not the only ones in the world. They encouraged seizing the day, making the most of our one life, getting as much out of it as possible. They encouraged happiness and laughter and brotherly love. They encouraged adventure and fun and spirituality. They encouraged life.
My older brothers helped to enforce the idea of living into my days. They always did their best, were involved in anything they could. They followed their dreams, never worried about them not coming true. They always did what made them happy and what would benefit others the most. They learned not only in the classroom but around the world. They opened their lives to different cultures, different ideas, and different religions.

I live: As I heard stories and watched the lives of my brothers, I knew that life was nothing to take for granted. I wanted my part of it, and I wanted to give my part as well. So I did it. I became involved in many organizations in high school, I volunteered as much as possible. And, taking a leaf out of one brothers’ book, I took a year off after high school and moved to the Dominican Republic. I lived at an orphanage and taught English and volunteered at the local hospital. I savored every moment, whether in the classroom, at the hospital, or just out in the streets playing with the children.

I love: I hold every moment close to me. I reveled in the eyes of my young niece as she spoke her very first word. I felt the excitement of my sister’s first high school dance. I burst with pride and warmth when my brother proposed to the love of his life. I live for these moments, these moments of pure happiness and innocence. Of pure love. I love life. I love all the possibilities around me. I love the fact that everyone has a chance to make a better world.

I laugh: I am known for my smile and my laughter. I am known for my unfailing optimism, my energy, and my craving for adventure. There are countless moments around the dinner table I will never forget, where all ten of us dissolve into laughter we cannot suppress, where food goes untouched for minutes before we can compose ourselves enough to eat. There are study sessions and coffee breaks that are interrupted by giggles and cackles, telling that life is being enjoyed. Laughter rings through my house, whether at home or at school, raw and completely free. We are happy, despite the situations around us.

We are together, we are loved, we are whole, we are happy.

I am not one to sit back and let the world pass by. If there is something I want to do, I am going to do it. I cannot merely breathe through life. I must live it too. I have an urge to go out and save the world, and I am going to do everything I can to make it happen, with laughter in my heart.

A sponsor, a representative, a model of Faith

On Thursday my little sister will be confirmed, and she has chosen me as her sponsor. She may have chosen me because I was the easiest one to ask. I am her sister, I will be in her life forever, I am seven years older than her - so "wiser." And I would be home during her confirmation.
But to me it is a little more than that. Although my confirmation sponsor did not end up taking an active role in my life, much like my godparents have been in the shadows, I wanted to take my role as an example in faith very seriously.
I felt the same way when my brother asked me to be Clara's godmother. These people are asking me to be a role model, to be a witness of faith. And I do not want to fall short.
It is difficult, because I am not the model Catholic. I lapse in my faith, I fail to go to church every Sunday when I am away from home. I forget to pray. I put myself before God, before my faith, before everyone. I have faltered. I have been angry with God. I have turned my back on him. I have lived a life I am not proud of.
But I always go back. I always recognize that feeling of emptiness - isn't it funny how overwhelming emptiness can be? - as a yearning to be close to God once more. Is that enough? That I recognize through it all, no matter the paths I take, that God will always be there? Maybe not quite. I need to work on welcoming Him into my life, always.
It is tradition to give a gift to the confirmed. I have been scouring the webs (because there are no shops in my town - and even if there were, I have absolutely NO time to go anywhere...) for something wonderful to give her. But my brother is already getting her a crucifix, my grandmother is getting her a ring, and my mother bought her all the saint books she would ever need. So what am I left with?
I decided that the most meaningful present would be to write her a letter (and maybe buy her a pair of earrings).
But the letter would address more than our faith. Well, not more than our faith, because our faith encompasses everything. It comes out of the church and into our daily lives. Our love and worship of God flows into our friendships, our relationships, even into our education. God is behind our decisions, our goals, our thoughts, our worries. He is a part of everything. So when I write a letter to my sister about my faith as it pertains to her, it will be a letter about life, love, hopes, and dreams.
Hopefully God will send me inspiration, hopefully I will be able to use my hand to write His words. Hopefully I can lead my sister down a holy, happy path.

Stay tuned, I may post bits of the letter...