I am sitting and writing this update from a lovely coffee house in Columbia, MO called Lakota. So, I guess that’s the first note that not all things change—I still spend most of my time in coffee shops. I do miss my little home in Denton’s coffee scene, but Rolla’s Giddy Goat and the many places Mason is taking me around Columbia are fulfilling my coffee shop needs. It’s the small things in life.
I’m not even sure when my last update was. I haven’t written here regularly since 2019, but I’ve posted a few little things here and there. But I guess I should just start in December of ’19 and tell it all from there.
So, in early December 2019 on a Sunday, I got a call from my friend, Tim. I had been talking with my friends for a while about wanting to move home and be with my parents since my dad was so sick, but I couldn’t afford it. Basically, Tim said that while he was praying in church, God spoke to him and told him that he needed to move me home. So, exactly a week later, the day before his 10th wedding anniversary with Bonnie, Tim loaded up most (many?) of my belongings onto a flatbed trailer as well as filling both our SUVs. Gary anxiously watched the packing and refused to leave the side of my car where he usually sat, waiting to be put in his bed. Gary had some packing anxiety from being surrendered. Tim and I drove the 10 hours to Rolla and were greeted by my mom, our family friend, Jack, and a softly falling snow. We unloaded, put my bed together, and crashed—me in my bed, Tim on the couch. The next day, Tim headed home and I adjusted to no longer being a Texan.
Tim and I right before he left to go back to Texas.
I say that I didn’t officially move to Rolla until January 2020 because I did go back home to Denton for my birthday that year—to celebrate with my besties and to bring home another carload of junk. What was leftover, Minadora lovingly (and perhaps frustratedly) packed for me and took to our storage locker that quickly became my storage locker as she adjusted to being alone in a two-bedroom apartment. (That didn’t last long—her boyfriend moved in soon after.)
While I was in Texas for my birthday, on the very day of my 31st birthday, Josh Stroup of East Central College called me and offered me three classes as an adjunct instructor at the Rolla campus. So, not only was I moved across the country by one of my best friends, I was offered a (admittedly part-time) job.
And so, I’m a Missourian again. And just in time, as COVID came and, two weeks later, my dad died—both in March 2020. I’m immensely grateful for the time I had with Daddy and I will always be grateful to Tim and Bonnie for their generosity in moving me and sacrificing their tenth wedding anniversary together for my trip home.
The last really good photo of the three of us: Christmas 2019.
December through March were a time of prayer and waiting, watching my father suffer and fight the wound that ultimately killed him. Well, the wound and the “poor quality of care,” as the nurse at the nursing home (who gave that poor quality of care) noted. It was an excruciatingly painful experience for me and mom, not to mention Dad, but it was also a sweet time together before being separated by death. In the midst of so many bad memories are many good ones—playing cards or Go with Dad, listening to Mom read to him aloud from the first Dresden Files novel, hearing—some for the hundredth time and some for the first—the many stories that Dad shared there at the end. While I wish more than anything he hadn’t had to suffer so much, I also wouldn’t trade my time with him for anything. Thank God for Tim Ponce!
Daddy and Me.
The day after Daddy died, Mom was told she had to come to the office and get everything together to work from home for a few weeks. Those weeks turned into three months and, had I not been home, mom would have been isolated without her family or community immediately after losing her husband. As it was, we held each other together and played a whole lot of Pokemon Go from the isolation of our car. I taught from home and slept a lot, Mom worked a lot and trained her new supervisee over the phone. And that’s how we passed quarantine.
Frankly, mid 2020 to early 2022 is a blur as depression and COVID just made everything into a mess. In September 2020, we adopted Niles, a silky terrier who is a source of great joy and frustration for both mom and me. In January 2021, I retired Gary from his job as my service dog. When he died in June 2021 from lymphoma, my whole heart broke into a thousand tiny pieces. Still putting that back together. I taught three courses per semester each semester and as many courses as Josh could get me during the summer. I made friends with my colleagues and connected with a couple people through my Aunt Linda (shoutout to Kristina and Aimee!). I spent A LOT of money on Origami Owl jewelry and played an inordinate amount of Pokemon Go.
Niles after his first haircut.
In January 2020, I made the decision to join a coaching group program called Reclamation. By this point, I had already renamed my blog “Life Reclaimed,” which seemed like too much of a synchronicity to ignore. I repeated the group program in 2021 and through the two years, made a lot of progress and met many dear and wonderful friends.
In January 2021, a year after I started doing Reclamation, I ended up joining another group coaching program—this time with a dissertation writing coach. With her coaching and the support of a group of women I started getting up at 5am to write with, I finished my dissertation and defended in April 2021. I walked at graduation in December 2021. Minadora followed suit by defending in April 2022 and walking this past May. I am insanely proud of both of us: Dr. VonTress and Dr. Macheret. Despite all the decks (including our department) being stacked against us, we made it. Woot!
Dr. Ybarra hooding me.
I have to say that by January 2022, I was feeling a bit better than I had in years. My new psychiatrist had put me back on abilify and that was working. For my birthday this year, Mom took me on a surprise trip to St. Louis, which was AMAZING. Yet, March and April brought a lot of grief as we lost and buried my grandmother as well as burying my dad finally. We also lost our precious puppy, Chloe, to a freak accident and it broke our hearts all over again. In June, Mom had a stroke, but there hasn’t been any permanent damage (thank God!). She’s really taken it as a wake-up call and is taking her health very seriously. I’m proud of her and a little intimidated. Nothing like having your post-stroke mother in better health than you to scare you straight, right?
At the end of April, I got good news—East Central College officially hired me as a full-time faculty member in the English Department. A full-time job, health insurance, and even my own office! I was (and am) so excited. I spent the summer dog sitting, living out of a suitcase for 6 straight weeks as I house sat at three different houses. Niles came along and has definitely come out of his shell as a result. And naturally, given that I just got the dream job in Rolla, I started dating and totally fell for this great human named Mason who lives 2 hours away in Columbia (hence my current coffee shop location). So, who knows what’s going to happen?
So, that’s where I’ve been since my regular posts stopped in 2019. My current life is mostly made up of playing with Niles, making trips to Columbia or having Mason come to Rolla, and prepping for the new semester as a full-time faculty member. Just a couple days ago, I started decorating my new office. I feel good most of the time, as long as I take my medicine regularly and get solid sleep. I’ve even started using my cpap again, which I’ve basically refused to use for a year at least. Life is actually quite good. (Knock on wood.)
Mason and me.
The future is a bit of a mystery. Unlike when I was a student and I knew each new year would simply bring two new semesters of course work and, later, writing, I honestly can’t tell you what’s going to happen. I have a great job, a great boyfriend, and some plans cooking, but no one but God really knows what the future will bring.
I plan to keep writing, though. I’m reading for fun again, which is another old habit I had lost. I continue to practice decorative planning in my effort to manage my life. I’m in the process of being diagnosed as ADHD and am playing with the idea of talking to my psychiatrist about my friends’ suspicions that I could be a little on the spectrum. We’ll see.
So, welcome back to my blog, dear reader. It will certainly be different than it was before, but I hope it will still be pleasurable to read. As always, I welcome feedback and engagement.