When I thought I was in the final year of my dad's life, I did not realize I was in the final year of my marriage.

I have been quiet for a while now. It's been hard to put into words how the last ten years have somehow crept up on me and my feelings. There is much to unpack, so this is just a fair warning.

No one ever said to me I would be doing life alone at the age of 46. When I met my husband at age 20, I thought we would spend a very long time together even though he was 20 years older than me.  I am thankful we did have 26 years of friendship and marriage together. I must admit that sometimes, because of my lack of desire to do something, I remind myself how much I did in those 26 years.

Everyone wants it, and seldom do we ever really appreciate it when it happens. This year was a wonderful year for me and LOLA.

Personally, I made the painfully emotional decision to move away from a childhood home that had sheltered me after all of my life losses.

Some of my best childhood memories are those spent with my Godparents. I recall so many weekends being at my godparent's home watching our parents play scrabble until 2 am.

This moment.

Maybe it has taken me 7 years to get to this moment, to realize that what I am doing is for this very moment – this snapshot in time.

Be the One who can make a difference…a call, a text, and an unexpected moment of gratitude towards a stranger.

For me, 2020 brought out the best and worst of all of us. We quickly figured out who was in our corner and who we needed to be wary of…. But there is THE one person who is one of my FAVORITE people in the whole wide world who helped me make it through 2020.

Life Transition. I sat staring into the eyes of a beautiful woman, who had lost her husband unexpectantly this year. She and her adult daughters were devastated, and I could see myself in her. I spoke in the kindest voice I could offer her and heard myself say ~

Don’t give up now. For LOLA, I have to admit I have witnessed and listened to families grieve like NEVER before. While some people may take this post as a political message, I say to you this ~ Death is not political.

On my first Mother’s Day with Carl, I remember him telling me ~ “Am I supposed to do something for you? You are not my mom.” (Can you picture me? Or my face?)

Indy – Our Black Labrador

She was the family dog after we lost Ceasar our beloved chocolate lab who died in 2006.  He was a monster and for a childhood dog, we thought no other pet could ever match his character. 

Adyn and I set out on a Sunday afternoon to Floresville, Texas to find our new puppy. She was a tiny black Labrador and the lady selling her said she would knock off $50 if we took her then and there. SOLD! We first had to chase her down and then put her in the car where Adyn held her all the way home.

Carl named her after the Indianapolis 500 because she loved running in circles around the front and back yard.  She won over Carl’s heart in a New York second.

Carl never picked on her, he always treated her as royalty. As the years progressed and we grew into another black Labrador, (Oliver) these two were our children after our kids went away to college.

When Carl grew ill and flew back to San Antonio for work one last time before going to Mexico for Cancer Treatment, Nathan told me how Indy jumped up to Hug Carl as if to say hello and good bye.

When Carl passed away and we made it to my father’s house, both labs were waiting for us – as a matter of fact they came running into the front yard to greet us. It was them comforting us when we needed it most.

The past 5 years we have been blessed having Indy to keep the other dogs in check. She has been a best friend, a comforting hug and wet sloppy kiss. We will miss her.

We owe her so much for her time with us and are grateful for her love. Rest in Peace Sweet Indy Girl ~ You are loved so much for a job well done.