My Grandma

Disclaimer: I had the perfect post about my great-grandma’s funeral and deleted it on accident. Here’s hoping I can remember any of it and I cry less the second time.

Nearly two weeks ago my great-grandma had a massive heart attack. A few days later, she passed in her nursing home.

She was ninety-four, and I hadn’t seen her since Easter.

Anyone who knows me knows that I’m emotional. I cry at weddings, birthdays, move-in days, move-out days, and my grandma’s funeral was no exception. I leaned on my baby sister a lot that day.

I introduced myself to everyone at the visitation as “Vera’s great-granddaughter” because I was proud to be hers. I agreed with everyone who told me “she was a lovely lady” because I knew she was. I found solace in the service and let the sermon soak in because I knew it’s what she would’ve wanted. I sang “In the Garden” with all of my might because I knew she was listening. I made sure to eat two pieces of berry pie at the luncheon because she would’ve wanted one, too.

I’ll miss my grandma leaving lipstick on my cheek and having conversations with me and my cousins like there was nothing we could do to make her more proud. I’ll miss her telling me how much I look and sound like my mom. I’ll miss her never letting anyone else win a family game of dominoes. I’ll miss her handwriting in every birthday card and on the inside covers of all the “Love Inspired” Christian novels she read. I’ll miss her refusing to let me push her wheelchair because she “could do it herself.”

She was strong, stubborn, and the most kind person I’ve ever met. She was in church every Sunday and never wavered in her faith. She touched lives and knew how to fill a room with her smile, cooking, and grace. She led my family through thick and thin.

I pray to be half the woman she was.

When Does One “Grow Up?”

Happy Monday, all!

Sorry to have stepped away from the blogosphere for so long– 18 credits of class, work, and life hit me this semester. I ate turkey sandwiches for lunch on my walk to class, I spent a lot of time getting to know the janitorial staff in a few academic buildings, and I even tried to study on the treadmill (sadly, the treadmill won).

And as much as I thought welcoming in the summer would welcome in a nice break the reality has hit me:

Hello, Taylor! The real world is calling! Don’t you think you should have a second job? What about studying for the LSAT? You don’t want a mediocre score, do you? Finals may be over, but there’s no time for naps!

I picked up a job as a hostess at a little restaurant I’ve fallen in love with and wiped the dust off of my “Logic Games for Dummies.” I started spending my free time at the gym taking spin classes and getting reacquainted with free weights.

I’ve gotta tell you– being an adult is not all it’s cracked up to be.

Mom: if you want to help me come clean or show me how to actually cook the pork loin you sent with me when I moved in a year ago, it would be greatly appreciated.

Dad: if you want to come and make sure my oil is always changed and the trash is taken out, I wouldn’t mind that either.

I eat Ramen for dinner, I save my laundry for trips home, I put gas in my car at the very last possible second, I don’t pay any of my own bills, I get up fifteen minutes before I’m supposed to leave for work, and I’m just curious: when is this growing up thing supposed to happen to me? Did I miss my stop on the grown-up train?

“Travel is the only thing you buy that makes you richer.”

As most of you know, I was fortunate enough to spend part of my January abroad in Chile. I spent the majority of my time there in the city of Santiago, but also toured Valparaiso for two days.

I fell in love with the hype of traveling and learning about the history and culture of a place so far from my own home. The hustle and bustle of Des Moines just doesn’t compare to the slow-paced, cheek-kissing, four-course-meal-eating life I lived in Chile (although, DSM was just given the honorable title of the wealthiest city in the country, not to brag.)

As a group, we did all of the touristy things: saw the presidential palace, toured Villa Grimaldi, and ate our fair share of empanadas and ceviche.

Personally, however, I learned a lot about myself: My capability of understanding Spanish is nowhere near where I thought it was. If I push myself hard enough, no matter how out-of-shape I am, I can hike the Andes mountains. I can recover myself from a pickpocket in a matter of seconds.

And last but not least, no matter what I do in life or what path I end up taking, I know I want to make an impact; I want to see and change the world.

And by some kind of grace, as if the trip itself didn’t benefit my psyche enough, I earned college-credit.

 

To read more about our trip, please follow this link to our class blog: http://prinaglobalsociety.wordpress.com

Bert got married yesterday

For as long as I can remember, Brittany has been my rock.

When there were twenty seconds left in a basketball game and we were down by 2, Brittany knew what to say to me to put my feet back on the ground. When we were losing a crucial match in volleyball and I was about to lose my cool, Brittany had the logical answer to the dump for the next play.

The only thing I’m sure I ever brought to our friendship was heat; I kept her fingers warm between plays or during warm-ups (Brittany has very long fingers that are ALWAYS 20 degrees too cold.)

Yesterday, though, she became someone else’s rock.

5 reasons why I know Brittany will make the best wife:

1. Whenever Marshal needs someone to come to bat for him, Brittany will be there.
2. Whenever Marshal’s head gets too big, Brittany will boss him around long enough to deflate it.
3. Whenever Marshal needs to make a decision, Brittany will always offer a logical solution.
4. Whenever Marshal needs light in his life, Brittany will prepare the greatest joke she can think of, and even her effort will be funny.
5. Whenever Marshal needs carbs, Brittany will offer a loaf of bread, as long as she hasn’t eaten the whole thing herself, because she tends to do that.

How do I know this? Because these are all of the things Brittany has done for me.

And although I don’t know Marshal as well, I’ve never seen anyone look at their wife the way he looks at her. We should all hope to find a heart to love us as big as his (not a big guy joke, I promise.)

I wish a lifetime of love and happiness on my friends as they make their move to Utah tomorrow. I hope they remember me when Marshal becomes the CEO of Google.

“Maybe 2014 should be about you.”

As the Dubuque DJ announced the upcoming arrival of the New Year, I couldn’t help but look around at the friends I was sharing my night with. Some were searching for longtime boyfriends they would inevitably kiss during the ball drop, others were drinking free champagne and screaming at the top of their lungs. We were together, though, and I was happy because I couldn’t remember the last time that had happened.

Earlier, I walked into a conversation about resolutions.

To those people who can make a resolution and stick to it for an entire year, I envy you. I’ve never had the resilience to lose the weight I wanted, I’ve never kept my promise to myself to quit procrastinating my homework, and I’ll probably never be able to become a person who doesn’t care what other people think.

This conversation, of course, was with one of those people. You know, people with resilience, drive, etc., and the ability to keep a New Year’s resolution.

This friend, I kid you not, didn’t eat out for AN ENTIRE YEAR. 52 WEEKS. 365 DAYS. ALL BECAUSE HE MADE A RESOLUTION.

I changed the subject as quickly as possible, knowing the conversation would soon bring attention to my non-resolutioned self and the fact that if I could wish for anything in 2014, it would be an average score on the LSAT, which wouldn’t be an acceptable resolution to my over-indulged resolution-aholic friend.

I talked about the end of my semester: I wished my grades had been better. I wished I had ate better. I wished karma had been on my side in more situations. I turned 21, but felt 40. When it came down to it, there wasn’t much I liked about 2013.

Before I could even finish my spiel, my friend said:

“Taylor, you’ve put so much into worrying this year, maybe 2014 should be about you.”

As the bar counted down to 2014, I watched how happy my friends were. I saw Marlana kiss Zach. I stared in shock as Hannah threw her hands in the air so hard she almost knocked herself over. I felt Amanda give me a kiss on the cheek. I saw Kelly laugh and take a sip of her vodka-cranberry.

And in that moment, I made a resolution: my 2014 would be about me.