The Atlas of Love.

In life it is either feast or famine for me.  I'm a hopeless cause for balance some days and sometimes I just throw all care and worry to the wind and tell myself "it could be worse, I could be a dangerous addict of some kind."  Might sound a bit harsh, but I find it rather amusing (most days).  In the last year I have read more books than I have in the last 5 years.  College fried my brain and my love for reading and it has taken me this long (10+years) to recover and find my reading bug again.  While I was exiting my last career, the stress was SO HIGH.  I would come home at night and want to crawl in a ball and cry, but knew that wasn't always the answer.  I started to see some great book recommendations on Instagram and Facebook and started to read again on my iPad.  I'm a big dork about reading and if it makes my eyes hurt or I can't see the words, I won't do it. **old lady status** The beauty of my iPad is a bright, back light that means I can read in my bed, in the dark.  Perfection.  The last two books I read have been actual hard-copy books, but only because of a random chain of events, including a new light bulb in my lamp.....don't ask.....  The first book I am going to save for a 2nd edition of Beachy Reads & Sunshine Dreams, but the second gets its own post.  Read on, my lovelies!

Do you ever walk into the dollar store and stroll past the books and wonder if it's all crap or if there might be something worth reading hiding in the pile that will only cost you a buck?  On occasion I do, and the last time this happened was when in Idaho visiting my Jo bestie.  She was picking up a few items at the dollar store and the books were in the front of the store...bonus!  I started to dig through them and this book popped out at me.  As you know from my post about Sarah Boucher's book, "Becoming Beauty", I am a sucker for a pretty cover.  I shout praises to authors who have publishers with art departments that know what their doing with cover art.  I mean, I'm only one person, but I take the cover in to serious consideration when deciding whether or not to read a book. 

The front of the book says the following, "This story of women's friendships and redefining 'family' flows with lovely writing."  I could end my review right now because the person who said it was spot on.  But, I'm not!  

There were five themes in this book that I want to briefly address.  They are: friendship, faith, fear, family and love.  

Friendship:  The Atlas of Love is centered around the friendship of 3 graduate students in Seattle.  Talk about three different personalities and family structures too.  The reader quickly realizes that opposites do attract and these three girls are miraculously besties because they are SO different.  The biggest irony of this book is that one of the main characters is Mormon and she's kind of a weirdo.  I can say that because I was raised Mormon and I could tell that the author was very well-versed in her quirky Mormon.  Still so funny, but probably more so because I could relate to it better and have known LOTS of women over the years very similar to this character....let's just leave it there.  The entire premise of this book is friendship through thick, thin, sad, happy, angry and repeat over and over.  

Faith:  As I said earlier, there is a blatant reference to faith because of the Mormon main character, but she does not dominate the faith discussion.  Throughout the book, there is much deliberation about faith in life, faith in God, faith in humanity and faith in what is meant to happen.  Who can relate to that more often than you care to admit?  **pick me, pick me**

Fear:  This book involves a baby.  It involves a baby that is a BIG surprise and thus enters a boat load of fear from numerous characters.  How do you process when life throws you a curve ball that you didn't see coming?  How do you process when life throws you a curve ball that you DID see coming?  That's the toughie for me personally.  Knowing that the end is inevitable because the writing is on the wall so you brace yourself for the impact.  Fear of the future presents itself in numerous forms throughout the book as they deal with an unexpected pregnancy, some broken loves, balancing life and the mourning and coping that goes along with it.  

Family: As I quoted above, the book talks about redefining family.  Without giving too much away (ok, I'll give away as much is on the back cover), these three girls take on the raising of the baby boy who is named Atlas.  They affectionately call it tri-parenting and it sort of works.  They are all insanely busy graduate students so they make the decision that the only way this little boy can have a relatively normal life, given the circumstances, is for them to commit to be mothers together.  It really is a heartwarming and delightful concept in theory, but they soon find that the mamma bear a.k.a. she who cooked and birthed said child is still the final say in all decisions made about Atlas.  One of the things that really touched my heart was the passion that came from the two friends who weren't the biological mothers, but dedicated their lives as if they were his mother.  In addition to their commitment to this little boy, their families also committed to being adoptive grandparents and everything that accompanied these roles.  I related well because I am the proud adoptive aunt of lots of little people who I fiercely love as much as my biological nephews and niece.  Motherhood hasn't been my adventure yet and I am so grateful for the little humans who call me Auntie Ray who aren't biological, but who I love like they were from day one.  

Love: The backbone of any great story is love and this is no exception.  Love is kind, love is selfless, love is patient and love is tough.  And when I say tough, I mean both kinds--the enduring and the challenging.  I know from personal experience that the more deeply we love the more deeply we hurt.  It seriously sucks when it doesn't go in our favor, but it is also the most rewarding and beautiful gift to have in life.  My heart runneth over when I see the beautiful, giggly faces of my nephews and niece via FaceTime and even more so when I get barrel-hugged (a real word) when I see them in person.  The human heart and soul has infinite capacity to love if we will let it.  I will be the first to admit that I am one who can easily put my heart in the deep freeze and let it sit on ice for an indefinite time, but I don't like how it makes me feel.  I want to love and be loved, thus I take risks and embrace my ability to feel the way I feel and live life as it comes.  

The quote above is near the end of the book and it really inspired me.  Not too long ago I referenced "The End" really meaning "The Beginning" and I think this quote attests to that as well.  When we have loved then we can come to the close of a moment and begin the next set of amazing moments.  Love is our focus.  Love can and will continue to reclaim us if we will let it.  And just as this quote says there will be anger AND love, with hefty helpings of both, but love will always win.  I will say it again....love will win if we LET it.  Anger is hella toxic and it can eat you alive and burn your insides if you let it.  Take the time to let friendship, faith, family and love heal your heart because when love is in the air, the next chapter is about to begin.  

The moral of the story:  All you need is love.  The Fab Four knew what they were talking about.  Trust it and let it reclaim you.  

Until next time, my lovelies!

-R

This Way to Adventure.

The late Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. said, "Faith is taking the first step even when you don't see the whole staircase."  I have to admit that I've been at a loss for the right words for this post.  I've known the title for probably two months, but no words.  Life has a way of testing my patience and it's safe to say that I'm in that moment right now with my current adventure.  But!  I can also say that the blessings are PLENTIFUL.  I am so grateful for the rays of sunshine that surround me and offer random pep talk text messages, inspirational quotes on my Facebook page, dinners, amusement park adventures (more on that later) and the list goes on and on.  

Throughout my career I've always had a mantra of "anything is possible with a good pair of red shoes."  My friend's father once told me that he didn't like red shoes because that's what the hookers in Puerto Rico wore when he was a kid.  Nonetheless, I've always felt great power in a good pair of red shoes.  How many times do we have a day that we think, "huh, how about I stay in my bed, firmly planted under the covers, and the grown-upping ceases?"  I've had them a few too many days in my life, but some of the BEST days I've experienced have been those when I kicked myself out of bed, got dressed, threw on my red shoes and showed up.  It's not easy.  I've talked about my bestie relationship with a thing called depression and one thing that is a consistent is this: the days you want to stay in bed and give the hell up are the days you need to get out of bed the MOST and move and be active.  It is seriously the biggest, most painful paradox, but it's true.  Get that blood flowing and force your brain to think about things other than the suckiness of your life and find the sunshine.  

Faith in the unknown is an on-going battle for me.  I'm a planner, a doer, a giver and a lady who likes to have a clear idea of where I'm headed next.  A wise friend gave me the advice that I need to "breathe and trust" and let life happen.  Phew!  Wait, what?  You want me to settle down and trust?  Whoa, whoa the faith train has pulled into town and I have been issued a first-class ticket.  It's so simple and I'm here to say, it works.  As I calm down, I tend to think more clearly and see those small and simple blessings that are right in front of my face. . . and then there was the day I let my bestie talk me into something completely c-razy, but it proved a fierce point that I needed re-enforced: I can do scary things.  

See this photo?  To some it may look like a 'gorgeous Utah sunset' but to me it is pure and utter craziness because I was standing in line to get on this nutso roller coaster at Lagoon.  Behold, the white roller coaster of death.  The rickety, scary-as-hell, oldest, made-of-wood roller coaster.  My Lu bestie came to visit this last weekend and she had passes to Lagoon for her company summer party that she shared for my birthday adventure present.  I'm a lost cause at amusement parks.  I have a weak stomach, issues with heights and the attention span of a 5 year-old while waiting in line.  However, I also know that I don't die when I'm under the influence of Dramamine and if I calm down and close my eyes (total child) I do actually have fun.  So, little by little she got me to go on crazy-ish rides.  When she suggested the white roller coaster I thought, "why the hell not?  I won't die.  I might come close, but I won't die."  So crazy that I did it and I am pretty sure I was more entertaining for her as I tried to not wet myself or cry or both.  But!  I DID IT!  I so totally did it and I walked away feeling like a champ because I overcame a serious amount of fear.  As I was walking like a drunken sailor to the concession stand for my free Diet Coke (WINNING!) I said to her, "you do realize this is going in my next blog post?"  So there you go.  Laugh amongst yourselves that I even told you about it. 

So, back to the real photos....I had so much fun shooting this outfit with Kelsey.  It had a vintage, sassy flair...which shouldn't surprise any of you.  The cardigan is from college (a LONG time ago) and I refuse to get rid of it.  The dress was a great D.I. find, the necklace is from Chic Style Utah and the shoes were on sale at PayLess.

What I love about life is that sometimes the best coping mechanism is wearing a good pair of red shoes and throwing on those sunnies to have a moment to breathe while no one is looking in your eyes to see the real story.  We can't wear our sunnies all the time, but we can sure take a break and look hot whilst letting ourselves breathe and trust.

So, here I am in the middle of the road.  Which adventure next?  Which staircase should I take?  At this very second I don't know the answer, but I know that life keeps moving forward and the blessings keep falling out of the sky and I continue to keep a straight path in sight and a smile on my face.

The moral of the story:  Life will always have a new adventure for us to tackle, but the good news is: we CAN do scary things and we DO live to tell about it!

Until next time, my lovelies!
-R

::GUEST BLOGGER:: Independence.

Note from Raylynn:

Happy 4th of July, my lovelies!  I am honored and very pleased to turn the blog over to Ashley Merical as she shares her perspective on being the daughter of a soldier and the sacrifices her family has made for our freedom.  I grew up with Ashley's stepmother in Miles City, Montana and I could not be more humbled to share this with all of you.  Freedom ALWAYS comes at a price for someone.  God Bless our America and those who have kept it free.  Until next time, my lovelies!  -R

Independence means something different to everyone. However, when speaking of the independence of our great nation most agree that independence means we get to choose the lives we lead and make our own choices. Every Fourth of July our nation is seen shooting fireworks, having parties and parades to celebrate our independence. Although who pays the price for this sweet freedom? This freedom comes at no cost to many Americans, however for the families of the men and women in our military; this freedom means something very different. This means sacrifice, dedication and fear. Some might even say that their freedom tastes sweeter because they know what it costs to maintain this independence most take for granted. Whether you agree or disagree with the reasons we are still in this war is irrelevant. The soldiers who fight this battle do not choose why, they do not even choose when, these choices are made by the government, not the soldier.

These men and women choose loyalty to their country above all else, even above family. My father Kord Merical was deployed to Afghanistan April of 2012; this story is insight to how his deployment affected our family, as told from my point of view. Though my father did not pay the ultimate price for freedom, he still paid a cost greater than many know.  I would like to dedicate this piece to every military family and say thank you, I know how hard it can be to serve your country.

Kord Merical served in the United States Marine Corps from 1989-1993. During this time Kord was deployed to Iraq. Once the end his four years were up on his enlistment Kord chose not to re-enlist because he wanted to be a family man and the Marine Corps demanded too much time.  Fast forward about 14 years later and Kord enlisted in the National Guard.  He always had a passion for the military and he felt that the National Guard would not require as much of his time as the Marine Corps. However, as the war in the Middle East continued, more and more of our soldiers from all branches were beginning to be called to battle.

I am Kord’s oldest daughter; I was the oldest child still living at home at the time of his deployment. It was the end of my junior year of high school when he had to leave. I will never forget that day. The way it felt. I have never felt so much pressure through the entire core of my body. There is no lower feeling in the world than watching your hero walk onto a plane and wondering if you will ever see him return. The whole weekend you spend as much time with your family as possible. You are constantly shuffled from one support meeting to the next, it is all part of what the military calls “family readiness.” The whole time you are well aware of what is going to happen at the end of the weekend, yet somehow you believe time will stop, that you will never really have to say goodbye. Then suddenly you find yourself waking up one morning getting showered and ready for the very moment you have “prepared” for all weekend. The hotel room falls silent as everyone finishes up brushing their hair and spritzing with hairspray. Finally, reality sets in as you stand on the tarmac with all of the other families, the sounds of cameras clicking, tears falling and boots shuffling.

I remember looking at my sisters, and my step-mom, Heather, who at the time was 5 months pregnant with my baby brother Kordell. As I looked at them I grew worried. How were we supposed to manage on our own for a year without Dad? Dad was such a huge part of our success; he was supportive, funny and yet stern when he needed to be. How were we supposed to have a baby, help Hadley, who was three at the time, understand why daddy had to leave for so long? I was hollow. I couldn’t imagine how Heather, my stepmom felt. She was pregnant, had Kaylee, Hadley and me. I was born with a rare form of Muscular Dystrophy, even though I am extremely mobile outside of my chair it is still harder to go places and manage. I worried that I would be more of a burden than a help to my family while Dad was gone. So as we all clung to Dad, tears streaming down our faces we whispered how much we loved him and how much meant to us assuring him that not one day would go by without us thinking of him and missing him. Then it was time. He stood tall, shoulders proud; he walked to where his men were standing, fell into formation and stepped onto the plane. The goose bumps spread through the entirety of my body.

There we were, holding hands, sobbing; watching the plane wheels leave the ground, and as I held my grandfather’s hand I looked up at that small white speck in the sky and prayed time would fly. We made our way back to the car, cleaned ourselves up, and had a few empty laughs. We stopped at Perkins on our way out of Billings knowing that no one was really hungry. As we drove home we struggled to find conversation desperate to forget about what we had just done. Soon we found ourselves back in Miles City, MT at that menacing front door.  If you have never lived this situation it will be hard for you to fully grasp because saying goodbye to a soldier on their way overseas is nothing like saying goodbye to a family member who is moving or if you are leaving for a long period of time. It is much more daunting and uncertain to say goodbye to a soldier. I prayed every day that he would be safe thinking that if anything were to happen to him over there our family would never smile again. Now as the days passed his absence was still very present, although we grew more comfortable with the empty seat on the couch.

The new routine suited us well; all of us girls grew very close that year, especially Heather and I. Suddenly we became more supportive and aware of each other as we learned how to cope. Then the baby came. The emotions of that day are still just as raw as the day Dad stepped on the plane. Heather gave birth to a beautiful son; Dad was on skype watching but still painfully aware of the fact that his child wouldn’t feel his touch for another eight months. Heather wondering how she was going to be a new Mommy while caring for the other three children all on her own. I have never known more people as brave as Heather and my father.  But there he was the most beautiful pink bundle. I wasn’t in the room during Heather’s labor or delivery, her mother, father, stepmother and other family members were there with her, and I came as soon as she called saying it was time to meet the baby. He was named Kordell because we wanted him to be named after Kord, but still have his own unique name. Then it was time to bring the baby home and a whole new adventure began.

The first week was ok. Kordell grew fussier and fussier. We tried everything from changing formula to changing how much how many ounces in the bottle. Until one day my grandfather found a lump on his leg. After many doctors’ appointments we discovered that Kordell had Caffey’s Disease.  A rare disease where there is excess bone on the leg and arm bones and as the child grows it stretches out and eventually the bone grows into normal size again. Usually by the time the child is three years old they grow out of it. However it is painful when they hit growth spurts. There were many sleepless nights where Heather, her step mother, and I stayed up holding him as he screamed, all we could do was try to make him as comfortable as possible as we took turns soothing him. Dad was even more stressed now that Kordell was sick and we were on our own.  Although again we found our rhythm, our routine with the new baby became normal and we girls grew even closer as we all took care of each other and Heather and I both worked hard to parent the children. Pretty soon the months were flying by.

We grew used to our new life and before we knew it, it was time to pick up our soldier. We were all so excited yet nervous at the same time. We knew it would be hard for us to forget the roles we had taken while he was away and go back to the way we lived before he left. So much had changed; I mean we had another member of the family. Once we got to Billings it seemed as though time had stopped. It was March of 2013. It had started to lightly snow as the soldiers stepped off of the plane. The whistles and cries of hello and excited bustle erupted from the crowd of families.

He made his way through the crowd, eager to meet his youngest son, and he hug each of us. Then he found us, taking Kordell in one hand and Hadley we all formed a small circle taking in all of emotion and the shock of seeing him standing so close; so within reach when he had been unreachable for 12 months. Then the celebrations began, we went to Applebee’s, although I think we were all a little too excited to eat. Except for Dad, he was beyond excited to be going to an American restaurant.

Once the newness wore off and we began to transition into everyday life again things became more stressful. My role as co-parent was over which was hard, I think for Kordell that took some getting used too. The little man was eight months old and he was not used to having a man in the house. That was hard for me. We had a routine that we were all used to and now we had to adjust and re-incorporate him into our lives. However, any problems there were adjusting; it was well worth it to have him home again.

The fourth of July meant more to us that year than just barbecues and fireworks in the park. We finally understood how great our freedom was and what it meant to maintain that freedom. Every day he was gone we prayed and wished the days would fly by and then when he finally got home we prayed some more and thanked God for keeping him safe and making us strong. That year warranted more growth in our family than any other year thus far. I am so proud to call Kord Merical my father because as hard as our year was, it was nothing compared to the year he had. I couldn’t imagine having to be that far from your family not being able to help them, and doing the job he had to do, fighting the battles he had to fight and being in a constant state of stress all while maintaining his famous smile.

So... this Fourth of July take a moment to reflect upon what this holiday means and the families who have fought to keep that holiday.