A Wish for Ashley

The holidays are coming up and I won’t be home for them.  As a result, I’ve been thinking a lot about Christmas last year.  That holiday season I learned a lot, and as my sister, there are lessons I want to share with Ashley.

I have lived away from home since I was 13 when I decided boarding school was the place for me.  The place I might find myself.  (I was wrong.  It didn’t happen there.)  However, I hate being cold.  And I am ALWAYS cold.  So I said goodbye to Massachusetts, goodbye to New Hampshire, and hello to Florida.  (Every time I move to a new state I wonder if Ashley is nearby.)  I was there for 3 years.  The weather was gorgeous, it was a beautiful community, and I could see myself “settling there”. (Gasp! Yes, even Miss Dreads Suburbia thinks that way sometimes.) But a piece was still missing.  I went home for December last year because I needed to reset, feel that unconditional love that I mentioned in my last blog, to figure out the next step.

Will was there when I woke up that first morning.  It was grey outside, there was 3 feet of snow on the ground, I could hear the wind howling, and my mom told me to stop by the training studio for coffee when I got up so I needed to motivate.  Instead I walked downstairs, got some cereal, and sat with my butt on the stone outside of the fireplace and didn’t move from there all afternoon.  Will came down and sat with me.

We spent a lot of afternoons like that last December.  Me looking out the window perplexed why ANYONE would want to live in the tundra when there are places that only require a light sweater for the restaurants with their AC turned up too high.  He laughed at me and with me, talking about fishing when the weather got nice for 2 weeks out of the year.  We talked about him visiting me in the next warm place I lived.  In my living room I found what was missing in Tampa.  Understanding.  He didn’t sugarcoat life.  In the mornings when he made his way to the kitchen I would ask, “How are you feeling?” He would respond “Like shit.” with a smile.  We talked about how tough life is sometimes.  How easy it is to get lost along the way because sometimes you don’t always know where you are going.

He made it okay that I did not fit into the traditional mold.  It was okay with him that I wasn’t sure I wanted the dog (I’m allergic), the cul-de-sac house, the picket fence (they are cute, just not me), the adoring husband (ok, I want that now), and the 2 kids.  He also was the only person in my family that liked my country music.  I guess because like the TV show Cheaters that he watched with my mom and Audra, cancer isn’t so bad compared to the person in the song who lost his pick up truck and found his wife sleeping with his brother that shot his dog.

I miss him so much.  And for the record, not all country songs are so depressing.  My Uncle Will spoke to me in this one the other day:

"Hold your head high.
Don't ever let them define
The light in your eyes.
Love yourself, give them Hell.
You can take on this world.
You just stand and be strong
And then fight
Like a girl…
Oh, with style and grace
Kick ass and take names.”

From Will I found the strength to see the next step for me was California and realize I might never find myself in the way that people say, but that’s okay.  What I CAN do is fight like a girl with style and grace and maybe learn some more along the way.  I also need to eventually embrace the tundra as my home.

Dear Ashley, you might not know where you are going or if you are ready to see my family again, but from my cheering section to yours, just fight like a girl and laugh about it along the way.  It’s what Will wanted for all of us.  Part of the mold or not.

(And if you are the second 1⁄2 black person in the world that enjoys country music, I love Sugarland and am willing to switch my stilettos for a pair of cowboy boots any day.)

All you need is love,

Tara