Days, like pages of a book,
And full of content,
Cherish the story
Before the ending.
To stay sane, Andie Tilly must keep her mind on her work. Her job as a pediatric occupational therapist is the perfect distraction from the unspeakable tragedy she experienced as a child. But when she meets alternative-energy magnate Rhys Griffiths and his autistic toddler, Will, she quickly realizes her heart will never be the same. Especially when her name becomes Will’s first word.
After accepting a position as a live-in therapist for Will, Andie steels herself against the appeal of the disconcertingly attractive—and attracted—Rhys. But their chemistry can no longer be denied, and their heated affair seems destined for happily ever after. A destiny Andie’s terrified to embrace.
When Andie’s guilt, Rhys’s awkwardness, and the abrupt appearance of an erratic ex threaten to dismantle their delicately blooming relationship, they must decide if love is worth the challenge. Can Andie and Rhys find their way back to each other? Or will the demons of the past simply prove too strong?Read More »
I just watched a video of a guy who took a picture of himself every day since he was 13 until he was 23. While these time-lapse movies are great and show an incredible transformation of a boy into a man, I couldn’t help but notice something a little deeper.
In each image, the wore a different shirt most days, but the background and positioning of his body was constant. There were slight variations in his posture, but mostly, he sat in front of the backdrop and clicked away. With each picture, the boy became a little older, a little thinner, taller, and different lengths of hair, but the way the images played out over the screen, it almost seemed like the guy was running.
Three-thousand six-hundred fifty pictures passed by my screen, and with each sliding image, the boy was sprinting towards becoming a man. He raced toward adulthood, as most kid do, but it hurt me to see how quickly life passed him by. I know these pictures came from 10 years of photos, and 3,650 is a lot of days, but to see the images squished together in a four-minute video made me want to scream at the kid. “Stop growing up! Stay young just a little bit longer!”
If only time would slow down.
Throughout my life, I have always tried hoped that people would like me. I would even say there were times I went out of my way to try and get people to like me. With age, though, I am finding that this way of thinking is tiresome. To try so hard to be the person people want you to be just so you can be on their radar for whatever amount of time your actions towards them permits is truly juvenile and almost sadistic.
Never will I be the exact person anyone wants me to be, nor will I ever again try to be that person. Being happy with myself is where it begins, and whether someone else likes it, I am who I am. I realized this, instilled it within myself, and began introducing the world to who I am. Those who have stuck by my side know the real me.
Most recently, I tried very hard with a co-worker who, in the end, very clearly wanted nothing to do with me. I offered her my support, tried to provide assistance and insight both professionally and in our personal lives, but the more I tried, the more she resisted. It ended in a way that we no longer communicate unless necessary which seems to work well for us, but this experience really taught me a lesson.
All I can do is try, but sometimes, people won’t like me, and that’s OK because I now know I showed them the kind of person I am.
I repeat, this is not a New Year’s resolution! I am posting this the day after New Year’s for that very specific reason.
While for some people, resolutions work well, for more than most, the connotation surrounding these yearly proclamations is destined to fail. There is just something about the tradition that sets people to either give up or lose focus halfway through the year and result in failure. I’m not saying everyone, so if you made a or multiple resolutions this year, best of luck to you, and I wholeheartedly hope you succeed. I, on the other hand, will not be partaking in this tradition because we have all seen how mine have gone over the years.
I’m sure I have made in painstakingly clear by now that I am not calling these resolutions, I have made a few promises to myself that just so happened to fall at the beginning of this year.
I will publish my next novel. I want to have a new novel out before summer which shouldn’t be too difficult as I am almost done with it.
I will go back on my diet, the one I was on before I got pregnant, and I will get back to a healthy weight that I am happy with. I’m really not focusing on any certain number, but more how happy I feel in my own skin again. As long as the number keeps going down throughout this journey, my focus will be being more happy and healthy.
I will travel this year with two specific locations I’m already thinking of. Both are places I have never been, but one will take a little more doing than another.
And, finally, I will no longer allow anyone to influence my mood or feelings. There are certain people that truly matter in my life and others who either shouldn’t matter or are choosing not to matter. I will not allow anyone who doesn’t want to be part of my life, nor anyone who shouldn’t have any impact on my life stress or agitate me answer much as I can help anymore.
I’m making myself laugh now as I reread this because it sounds dangerously close to a New Year’s resolution, but I think the difference is that these are realities I know are possible. It all comes down to how willing I am to make them happen.
We were in high school, sitting in our new assigned seats as our earth science teacher moaned on about sedimentary rocks. I had seen him around school, always making others laugh, totally the class clown. We even shared another class together besides this one, but I had never spoken to him. I all but wrote him off after the first week of school when every word that left his mouth was another joke.
But this day was different. This day, sitting in that classroom next to him and looking into his stormy blue gray eyes, something had changed. He wasn’t the clown anymore. He wasn’t spouting another string of banter, basking in the laughter of our classmates.
No. Today, he was asking me to be his without so much of a hint of hilarity in his smile, only hopeful reciprocation. He was sitting in his assigned seat next to me exuding anticipation as he awaited my answer. He was looking into my eyes with such sincerity and stealing my heart.
This day, thirteen years ago, my now husband asked me to be his, and everyday since then, I have loved him more and more.
Happy (dating) anniversary, babe!
IMDB: It’s a Wonderful Life (1946)
An angel is sent from Heaven to help a desperately frustrated businessman by showing him what life would have been like if he had never existed.
Ever since I was a kid this black and white film would play during the holiday season. I would watch the grayscale characters play out the life of George and Mary Bailey as their lives spun in directions they had never planned. They make their way through their lives until George finds himself in a horribly precarious situation where he wishes he was never born. With the help of an angel, he sees what his tiny town of Bedford Falls would look like had he never lived. His love for his family reminds him of why he lives and breathes everyday, and with help from his town, George heads back home to the greatest Christmas surprise he has ever received in his wonderful life.
Now, they have a version in color, and cameos of the movie can be seen in other Christmas specials such as Home Alone, but the story holds a place in my Christmas spirit all the same. The story would tug at my heart and make most in my family cry due to an overactive crying gene I have mentioned before that we call the Bonnie-gene. To this day I have kept the tradition alive and have to watch it at least once during the season.
Here we are, four days away from the big day, and I have yet to watch it! It just won’t be Christmas until I do. If you’ve never seen it, be sure to add it to your Christmas Watchlist this season.
Less than a week until Christmas! Here’s your countdown, folks! If you haven’t started your shopping yet, then man, you’ve got some catching up to do.
I, on the other hand, am done! All presents are wrapped and organized under our tree. The big man’s busy night is staged and ready to be placed. All we need to do now is finish up some cookies and put out the milk.
For whatever reason this year, I have found myself excited and prepared. I believe it is my daughter’s age because as she gets older, she gets more into the festivities, but there’s a little something more this year. I’m feeling more festive than I have in a while, and I am truly counting my blessings.
Merry Christmas to all!
I’m sure we’ve all heard this before. Someone random or even an acquaintance asking what makes you, you. It may be any variation or form of the aforementioned question, but it holds the weight of your lifetime in it’s punctuation.
If someone were to ask you this question today, what would the answer look like? What would the events of your past, accumulating to the present, show?
Would they show a hard worker, striving for success? Maybe even showing some milestone(s) of achievement?
Would it show a family oriented series of memories, leading up to the creation of your own unit? Would you be surrounded by people who you love and are loved by in return?
What’s your story?
What does it look like?
The best part of this story, the one you are currently starting in, is it isn’t finished yet.
We raise a toast
To you, my dear,
For every day
And every year
That we live without you.
Is what we keep
as you are far.
Will a day pass
That we forget
To raise a glass.
So, here’s one for you,
Oh, how we miss you.