Remembering Grandma - Part 2

Part one was mostly about how my grandmother's final days affected me and my life. Well, enough about me, I'm here in Nebraska to honor the life of my grandma, so let's talk about her.

Grandma never really liked to talk about herself, so it feel a appropriate that I can share some memories from growing up visiting that farmhouse with her and grandma.

Now, my grandparents were not the only residents of that farm. Some of my earliest memories around my grandma were the cats that lived in the garage and barn. Grandma would put out cat food and table scraps for them and we grandkids would play with them, at least the ones that were tame enough to catch. There was one cat in particular, a tortiseshell we called Mama Kitty, that was always up in the garage ready to be petted and show of one of her many litters of kittens. Hunting down kittens and taming them was one of the ways that I, a talkative child, learned to be quiet and patient. To this day, I have a very gentle touch when handling things, especially animals. I think part of that is because Grandma taught me to not squeeze or be rough with the kittens if I wanted to hold them.

I loved doing craft projects with my grandma, and she always had some laying around for us to play with. We made gak, a gooey substance that is a bit like a thick slime (I always colored mine pink). We painted suncatchers and hung them in the windows. I made many a picture out of Perler beads or foinger paint. And sometimes I was content to just color with markers and watch cartoons. Grandma always loved my little projects and displayed them proudly. Her fridge, windows, and cupboards always had little art projects from her grandchildren.

That leads me to another memory of my grandma. She was always at as many concerts, events, and performances as she could make. I never really thought much of that as a child since she only lived a mile away from me, but she was more than willing to make the drive for my cousins as well because she wanted to be present in their lives. I don't really know if she had a favorite kind of event, from sports games to band concerts to speech showcase, because she always loved them all.

As my grandma got older, her top priority was making sure that my grandpa was taken care of. She had taken on the role of his wife, and she wore it well. As my grandpa's senses became dull with years of hard work and his mobility decreased, she did whatever it took to make sure his needs were met. Her children and grandchildren worried about how they were getting on and tried to help as much as possible, but let's just say my stubborn streak came from that side of the family. Grandma never wanted to accept help and other people were always her top priority.

When my grandpa passed, it was Grandma that pulled all of the grandchildren from the four corners of the country to her side. We all knew that we should be by her side and show her how much we loved her and we were willing to drop everything and come together as a family. Even after Grandpa's funeral, I was sitting next to her and my aunt came to give her a cup of water, and her first question after thanking my aunt was "Did you get something to eat?" always thinking of others before herself, that was just who Grandma was.

My last conversation with Grandma was short and not anything that you would see in a dramatic novel. I told her how much I loved her and how much I valued having her as family. She asked me about work and I showed her the beautiful sunny day in the window. I thanked her for the years of thing she had done for me and everyone else. One thing sticks in my mind. My aunt commented "Isn't she pretty?" (I had done a cute hairstyle that day and my lipstick matched my sweater) and my grandma agreed. "It runs in the family," I quipped. My grandma shook her head, she never knew how beautiful she was to all of us. She was so concerned with everyone else, she never saw her own beauty.

See? Runs in the family, look at that smile!

And just because she didn't see it, doesn't mean I can't show. it. I mentioned the pictures I took in my grandmother's wedding dress, and today as I went through some old photos, I found their wedding pictures. My beautiful grandma, on the day of her wedding, looking more glamorous than I ever saw her in my lifetime, taking a rare turn in the spotlight as the beautiful bride she was.

She carries herself with a certain dignity that I hope I inherited.

I have seen pictures of brides in this exact pose to this day. Faded as the photo is, that is pretty cool. 

After the funeral, my dad called to tell me that I was inheriting the wedding dress. I was floored. Surely one of my aunts would want it, but they gave it to me. I love connecting with the world through clothing and fashion, so this is something that I have a special connection to. I may have professional photos taken in it, or do a photoshoot when I am planning my own wedding. I knw enough people who work with old materials to take proper care of it and see if I can give it as much of its former glory as I can. Then I would like to preserve it in a shadowbox or some form of display. That dress represents the beginning of a 60+ year marriage, it deserves better than to be hidden in an old cedar chest. I am so grateful for this gift and I will care for it well, of that I am determined.

When Grandpa died, we knew Grandma would not stay long before going to be with him. Their marriage was so much of their life, and Grandma was so dedicated to him, that once his work was done, hers was almost done as well. She passed on into a well-deserved eternal rest and had a better Christmas than I could imagine. I visited her resting place to place some flowers and say and in-person goodbye. The road is familiar, I know that cemetery all too well. My grandparents rest next to my brother, under the same color headstone, black granite.

I like how the shadow of my brother's grave is on the left, like he's putting an arm around them to welcome them to Heaven.

I entered 2021 with 3 out of 4 grandparents living, and now I have but one. I know my grandparents are in a better place and no longer in aging, non-working bodies. But just because I can carry it well by the grace of God, doesn't make the weight of grief any less heavy today. Share in my remembrance as we move forward into the new year. I don't know what it will bring, and that's okay. It's not my job to figure that out, my job is to deal with what is before me today.

Thank you for sharing in my story. Happy New Year

A Heavy December - Part 1

Some years, The month of December is truly my favorite part of the year. I love Christmas, in case I haven't said so a thousand times. I love bright colored decorations and lights, making and sharing delicious food, giving gifts to those I care about, and my favorite: spending time with those I love. On a scale of Ebenezer Scrooge to Buddy the Elf, I'm firmly the latter.

This year, my heart was a little heavier than the cast-iron skillet I got for my sister. Life doesn't operate according to my time, and this was not a time I would have chosen.

On December 12, I got a call from my aunt. My grandmother's health had taken a bad turn and she wasn't sure how much time she had left. I wasn't sure what this meant. Could it be a couple of days? A few weeks? a month? I waited for further information.

The next day, while I was at work, I was asked by a different aunt to video call her as soon as I could. She wanted all of the grandkids to have a chance to speak to grandma before a combination of a failing body and the medicine to make her comfortable sent her into a permanent haze. I called and had my last conversation with my grandmother on this Earth. She was tired and looked very weak, but she recognized me and talked to me for a precious few minutes.

This is the last picture of the two of us together. It was taken when I visited Nebraska in October for my grandpa's funeral. I remember that day. It was beautiful outside and we had a good conversation.

The next week was a waiting game that was honestly one of the most difficult things I've had to do in a long time. I like planning things out and making sure everyone is happy, and this was simply impossible. I didn't sleep well, my mind was trying so hard to come up with plans A through K for every possible contingency. I was preoccupied and every little thing just felt like another block from a Jenga tower about to collapse. What's worse was that all of this was happening around my Christmas travel plans. I was flying out on the 23rd to spend Christmas with my partner's family in Pennsylvania. Should I rearrange flights and join him there a day or two later? Should I try to make the funeral or wait and take my leave from work later? What would be better for my family? What would serve my grieving process better? It feels weird thinking all of this when she is still alive and her time of passing is between her and God.

I was so grateful for my sister in that week. She gave me important updates without me having to call her all the time. I at least had the peace of knowing that if anything big did happen, mine was the first number she would call, and I didn't have to wonder if I had the right information. She really gave me what I needed, and I thank her for that.

By the time Friday rolled around, I had somewhat decided which of my many plan variations I would use. Flying out in an attempt to make a funeral early the next week, while possible, would just leave me more stressed and overwhelmed. I wanted to have a clear mind to honor the memory of my grandmother, not have a million things to think about with Christmas and travel. I would go and enjoy Christmas with Alex's family, then fly to Nebraska to go through my grandparents' property and visit her grave. It felt like the plan that would give my grandma's memory the respect it deserved. And of course, it still felt so weird saying all of this when she still lives. In that hospice room, no one could say when she would slip away. She would go knowing that her children were close by, her grandchildren loved her, and her husband awaited her arrival. When? God only knows.

Well, God did know. And Jewell Deichmann slipped into a place none of us can possibly imagine on December 18th, 2021. She was received by an entourage including my grandpa Gordon Deichmann, my brother Chet Deichmann, my cousin Joseph Deichmann, and many other friends and family. I got the call from my dad as I sat on the couch watching Christmas movies with Alex. When I hung up, I nodded and knew it was time to book the flights, tell my boss I would be gone longer than anticipated, and pack a second suitcase.

On the winter solstice, the darkest day of the year, the world dimmed the lights as my grandmother was laid to rest next to my brother Chet and my grandpa Gordon. I sat next to Alex in my living room and we watched the video of her funeral. I paused it to explain some of the stories and point out faces familiar to me. He listened and was present with me the whole time, and I thank him for that. As those who knew Grandma described her in her younger days, he remarked that she was a bit like me. And I guess I am in some ways. Jewell Deichmann was a pretty great lady, so I take that as a compliment.

I did indeed go to Pennsylvania, and I did have a wonderful time with Alex's family. I bribed them with cookies and corny jokes, so I hope they like me. It really was a lovely Christmas, and one that I will treasure. But I knew that amongst all of the lights and decorations filling my Christmas-brain, there was a very heavy box sitting quietly in the corner. The box of grief that I put aside for now. As a Christian, I know that I will see my grandma again, so I need not cast a pall over the joy of the birth of Christ. But I am still human and it is still sad that Grandma isn't here anymore. It's time to open that box, and this blog post is part of that. In part 2, I'm going to talk about the woman I grew up with and some of the things I remember about her that I would like my readers to share in. Please read on when it's posted, I wouldn't want to leave you all sad. After all, this is about a wonderful woman and the Christmas season.

See you soon!

Remembering Grandpa

 I am back in Nebraska. Surprise!

I'm surprised too, I didn't think I'd be flopping into my childhood bed until Thanksgiving, but here I am. This is not one of those happy drop-ins that belongs in a corny movie. Today, my suitcase isn't the only thing that is heavy.

On Thursday evening, I received a message from my sister that my grandpa, Gordon Deichmann, was likely nearing the end of his life. I prayed for peace and safe travel for family traveling to say goodbye, and I waited for the inevitable phone call.

Early on Saturday morning, after 93 years of life, Grandpa Gordon passed away. His life was one marked by acres upon acres of crops harvested, hundreds of cattle raised, and land cared for in that way only a farmer can care. But my grandpa's greatest legacy is his family. The Deichmann side of the family has been close for as long as I can remember, and we make an effort to meet with each other regularly. I've seen posts honoring Grandpa on social media, and I guess it's my turn. Here are some of my memories of Gordon Deichmann.

Grandpa Gordon was never the first person you would notice when you walk into a room. He wasn't the loudest or most talkative, but he had a quiet reserved kind of strength. He was like a support beam at the center of a building. He worked hard to provide for his wife and children, and he took pride in his work.

It always seemed like Grandpa was happiest when he had a dog. His dogs followed at his heel and would obey his every command. If he told a dog to sit on the tractor and wait for his return, that dog would not have moved if he was gone for two hours. He loved the living things and treated them all with care and respect, from the livestock to the barn cats.

By the time I came along, that side of the family had been blessed with an abundance of cousins for me to play with. It was always a fun time to get together and explore the old farm buildings and play pretend amongst the old equipment. This is one of my favorite pictures of Grandpa Gordon. I remember him carrying me and all of his grandchildren in the buckets for as long as we would fit.

The one in the red bucket is me, and in the white bucket is my cousin, Kelly.

When Grandpa passed on Saturday, I was sad, but there was a part of me that was grateful. Over the last couple of years, his body was becoming less and less able to do the simplest of tasks, and it was hard to tell well his mind was taking in his surroundings.

My last conversation with Grandpa Gordon was to introduce him to my significant other, Alex. I am so grateful he got to meet my grandpa, even if it was only once. Grandpa was having a good day. He recognized me and we engaged in a good long conversation. I am so grateful that I am able to have that day as my last living memory of my grandpa.

My grandma is still living, and I was able to visit her yesterday. She grieves in her own way, as we all do. She had Grandpa by her side for 63 years, and I can't imagine how hard it must be to navigate life without him. 

Though the reason for my visit isn't the happiest, I love to visit my grandma

I hope this doesn't come across as self-serving, but I felt like this post was a good place to share this picture. Last Christmas, I borrowed my grandmother's wedding dress and took some pictures while wearing it. I was astounded that it fit this well and the pictures came out beautifully. This dress is over 60 years old and the lace is so fragile, but the marriage it represents was so definitely not. When my aunt showed the picture to my grandpa, he said that I looked beautiful just like my grandmother. 

                         

On the left, Jewell and Gordon Deichmann, 1958. On the right, Kim Deichmann, 2021.

My grandpa's life was one well-lived, and his rest is well-earned. God has freed him from a body that had been used up. I'm sad that he's not here, but I am grateful that he no longer feels pain, exhaustion, or illness. Rest well grandpa. I'll see you again someday.

Authenticity from Behind the Face Paint

 Ah yes, conventions are back and I. Am. Obsessed. I haven’t been this long without a convention since I started attending them six years ago. At the end of the convention, as I stripped off the wig and released my messy waves, scrubbed every speck of paint from my smothered face, and put on the shorts and tank top that are my uniform of summer, I had a thought. 

At that convention, in my insane getups that make my own mother question my identity, I had felt the most authentically myself that I had in a while. Which, to those whose hobbies don’t involve some form of roleplay (theater, some types of video creation, some forms of writing, etc.), might sound….weird. I’m wearing clothes that I would never choose and so caked in makeup that my mask is stuck to my face (not kidding, that fake blood is sticky). So, why would I feel MORE like myself when, by all appearances, I’m trying to not be myself?

Even when I'm not being me, I'm still pretty cute

Feeling more like oneself in costume is a very common sentiment in the cosplay community, and cosplayers have a variety of reasons for having it. Some feel insecure in daily life, and dressing up allows them to step away from those insecurities. Some appreciate that it serves as an instant icebreaker, a big sign reading “I like this thing, talk to me about this thing.” With that instant topic of conversation, many shy people find that they can make friends more easily in cosplay.

I’m most definitely not shy, and I’m not one prone to insecurity very often, so why do I feel authentic even through the costume? Part of it is knowing that no matter how much I alter my appearance, my posture, or my voice, it’s still me under it all. At a moment’s notice I can snap back to Kim and still be distinct. I can be dressed as a high-school age character and still be responsible, I can be dressed as a man and still be girly, and I can be dressed as a monster and still be bubbly and friendly. I also like messing with the dissonance between my appearance and my actions. It’s funny, and the real, authentic Kim loves to make people laugh.

Another aspect of feeling in my element at con is that cons are a place where my personality strengths are very advantageous. I’m good at keeping schedules straight. When you are trying to go between two panels, an autograph signing, and a concert while keeping track of check-ins for your 3 friends, scheduling is an extremely valuable skill. I love the noise, the colors, the unique stories that make up the convention experience. A lot of people my age struggle simply to find an environment in which to share their passions, and I am so grateful to have that basically handed to me on a platter the second I walk in the door.

One thing that is abundantly clear just from all of my pictures is that I love playing grown-up dress-up. When I was a little shrimp, I wanted a beautiful princess ball gown. And now I have one. I have dreamt of being a wizard or an alien with crazy powers, and I have come as close as any human can to that experience. When I put on the outfit, I can connect with that sense of childlike wonder that says “I can be anything.” I’ll always be a bit of an overgrown child, and this is a really fun and productive way to channel that energy. Yes, I build the costumes myself and have to pay for them, but if I have to be an adult on the way to being a kid, Why not?

Cosplay and conventions are an outlet to express my most authentic self, and I really missed that. There are other ways that I express myself, and I have leaned on those a lot in the last couple of years, but I knew that when conventions were back, I was there. Now if this pandemic could just cool it, I can be back to stay. Next event: Steampunk November. I built a cosplay for a Renaissance Faire that was supposed to happen in March of 2020, and it FINALLY gets to leave the house. 

Catch you round the con floor. If you don’t recognize my face, the voice will likely tip you off.

Reconnecting in 2021

 *Flops into chair and takes a deep breath* Okay, I have time to write a blog post before I “meep meep” and zoom off like I’m being pursued by a famished Canis latrans. I feel like all of the socializing and activities lost to 2020 are getting crammed into the back half of 2021. It’s wild, but I’m honestly enjoying it. I know, big surprise that a high-energy extrovert is a fan of social activities. So here’s what I’ve been up to.

For the first time since graduation, I visited my old college campus! I was in Michigan for a wedding and my companion Sydnee (another college friend) and I decided to drive our little rental car down and see what was up.

College buildings come in two varieties. The brand new ones that are completely foreign and kind of fun to explore, and the ones that have not changed at all and that I could walk blindfolded. It was really surreal to go between those two types as we explored the campus. It just so happened to be move-in weekend, so as we passed our old dorms we spied a new crop of freshmen and their families moving boxes and suitcases. I wish them the best as they start a new chapter of life. College was a great time for me, and I hope others can have as good an experience. As we reminisced in the union, relaxing on the couches where we used to study, we concluded that it’s good to be on campus as an alum.

Okay, so once I got back from Michigan, the suitcase didn’t even go back in the closet. The next weekend, I visited my family in Nebraska. This wasn’t just a normal trip home to visit my family, I had a very special person in tow. This was Alex’s official “meet the family” weekend. Because our relationship developed long-distance and the pandemic restricted travel, there just hadn’t been an opportunity to make the trip sooner. I could have waited until Thanksgiving, but that meeting would also include my extended family, which is...a bit much for one weekend. So, immediate family now, extended at Thanksgiving. And we road tripped the 10 hours so my dad could service my car while we were there. Did I mention Alex is a patient person?

Considering that this post isn’t titled “Suddenly Single Again” you can probably guess that the trip went well. We visited all of my grandparents, hung out with my siblings, and taught Alex more about popcorn than he ever thought possible.

We toured Preferred Popcorn (where my mom works) and got to go on top of a grain bin.

And THEN, once we got back from Nebraska, I am now preparing for *drumroll* my first convention since lockdown! *cheering* I have had my ticket for Texas Frightmare Weekend since 2019. And this weekend I will FINALLY be able to use it. I, being a cosplayer, will be dressing up for all three days and thoroughly enjoying everything about this tentative return to my favorite hobby. Yes, I’ll be wearing a mask, and yes, the convention size is capped to allow for proper social distancing, but will I be complaining? NOPE. I missed this so much. The dealer room, the panels, the celebrity guests, and my personal favorite thing, connecting with other people who get really excited about things they like. The convention energy is something that can only be experienced in person, and I’ve been deprived for far too long.

These activities do have a common thread. I feel like I’m checking the boxes of the groups in my life that I need to regularly connect with. With the trip to Michigan I was able to reconnect with my college friends, who truly are some of the closest friends I have made in life so far. In visiting Nebraska, I was obviously able to reconnect to my family, which in my case takes a lot of effort due to the distance, but it’s always worth it. And finally, this weekend, I’ll be reconnecting not only with the broad social group that is my fellow nerds, but with myself as I get back into something that really brings me joy.

I hope you can reconnect in 2021 with family, friends, social groups, and even yourself. This is such an action-packed blog post that I didn’t even talk about my upcoming move into a new apartment. That’s a post for another time. And there’s my birthday on the 29th, so I’ll probably celebrate that somewhere in there. I’ll figure it out, I always have so far. For now, I have to dig up my cosplays that have been waiting for far too long to be worn. Now where is my knife and fake blood?

Vaxxed, Unmasked, and Out There

Guys, I think we might be seeing the back end of this pandemic. 

Looking back at my initial thoughts when this started, I definitely did not anticipate that it would be 14 months before I could even consider things like concerts, festivals, and my beloved conventions. But as the vaccinations are going out, the number of cases is going down. My social butterfly self is OUT THERE AND LOVING EVERY MINUTE OF IT (yes, that was a Seinfeld reference).

So, here are a few of my thoughts as the numbers continue to make like the rain outside and fall.

I am finally okay saying that I am sick of wearing masks. I have been wearing one for 8 hours per day every day at work since last March because my job has me up and around other people all day. I have worn one in every public situation. I have not complained, and reminded other people to grab one before leaving home. I did not complain because I knew how important it was. When I was a kid I hated wearing seat belts because they hit my neck in a way that bugged me. But I wore one anyway because it’s important. I viewed masks in the same way, so I never complained. Now that the CDC has cleared the fully vaccinated to return to unmasked life, I will be the first to say that I am only too happy to ditch these things. I want my lipstick back, darn it! And don’t even get me started on mask acne.

When we first started wearing masks, I had to adjust the way I read people. I never realized how often I read people’s lips until I couldn’t do it anymore and had to ask people to repeat stuff all the time. And losing that much of a person’s face is strange when reading facial expressions.

Throughout this whole thing, I have been so grateful for my friends. We all kept tabs on each other throughout the various lockdowns and changes. Book club has been an amazing avenue for communication and a little bit of escapism. And now, we have a thousand plans for a thousand things we want to do. I’m so grateful that I still have people who want to tag along with me and invite me on various excursions. We can finally make life a bit more adventurous.

I would be remiss if I neglected to mention the romance that started during the height of lockdown (see my previous blog posts for the story on that). Yeah, that’s still going. From the very early days of our relationship, Alex and I have talked about wanting to adventure together, both in the form of travel and interesting experiences close to home. I feel like now that we’ve had a lot of time to build emotional connection through the simple, private interactions, our adventures will be all the more exciting and memorable. And heck, if a relationship can maintain a spark over this amount of time and distance in this kind of world, there must be something special here. And now, we have a whole world to explore together. Okay, okay, I’m gonna give myself a cavity if I keep writing stuff this sweet.

Never mind, my next point is also pretty sweet, I’ll call my dentist later. Let me tell you the story of an incredible woman. She is in her 50’s and has “adopted” several con friends and me as her “kids.” Due to an unfortunate marriage that ended badly, she never had children by birth, so we are only too happy to come over to her house and play games, make food, and just enjoy her mothering all of us. This whole pandemic thing would be difficult enough, with her having to stay home all the time and us having to limit contact, but she had a huge bombshell last September. She had breast cancer. Due to a family history, she had been vigilant about regular checks, and she was able to catch it early before it could spread. But she had to go through chemotherapy, which wrecks your immune system. Did I mention this was happening during a PANDEMIC? So, of course, we couldn’t offer the kind of support we wanted to give our mom-friend. But we made sure to check up on her over the phone, so she knew we were always thinking of her. She had found the love of her life after the messy divorce, so she did have her husband, who was wonderful throughout the whole thing (Hey, you’re never too old to find love). And for Christmas, we put together a box of small gifts and notes of encouragement and left it on her porch. Then we ran to the car and called her to watch her pick it up. The happy tears when she saw it were worth all of the rigamarole of prep and delivery.

When the vaccines started rolling out, we instantly started planning our first in-person get together. The chemo was over and her strength was starting to return, so once we were all fully vaccinated, we felt it was finally safe to have a dinner party. That dinner party was Sunday night, and it was so wonderful to shower her and her husband in all of the love and encouragement we had so wanted to give for so many months. If there is one person who deserves an award for surviving 2020, it’s her. I’m telling this story because I want to give some recognition to Wendy. I'm proud to be one of her “kids.”

The return to something more like my 2019 life is both figuratively and literally a breath of fresh air. I have a newfound appreciation for my health and the value of social interaction. Humans are a social species, we need each other. I appreciate the creativity of people finding ways to safely support each other in a world no one can predict. And I’m re-learning the balance of social vs alone time. I’ve had too much social at times in my life, and this year I have definitely had times of too much alone, so now it’s time to try and re-find that happy medium. It’s tempting to just try and cram everything in, but I know that’s not healthy either. 

So, vaxxed and unmasked, I venture into the world once more, finding what feels like the 56th new normal. I hope my readers are enjoying a more relaxed existence. Here’s to greater things!

Appreciating the Past

If you follow me on social media, you know I've been in Colorado Springs visiting my old college friends and had a lovely time. I have had very little contact with those friends since graduation, and finally having them in front of me gave me a chance to properly appreciate their lives and where they are now compared to where we wereback in the days of endless homework and weird pranks.

We went to a cute little tea house. We'd just sat down and I forgot to take my mask off

My good friend Mikel has gotten married and had a baby since college. Like, okay, be an adult, I'll just sit here with my cat and play video games.

But that’s not a bad thing. People need to take life at different paces, and sometimes things fall into place, sometimes they take time. I wouldn’t trade my situation for hers, not she for mine. I also got to refresh my friendship with Mikel’s big brother, Caleb. He too is in a very different place than when we last parted, and that place is different from mine and different from hi sister's.

Without the constant school talk monopolizing our conversation, I feel like our friendship was able to take on a new dimension as well. It was a shift from “college friends” to “adult friends.” I love that so many of my college friends have been able to grow and change, but are still able to pick up where we left off.

It got me thinking about the feeling of revisiting the past. I’m a future-oriented person, I always have ten thousand possibilities for the future and sometimes I need to be pulled back to the present. On several occasions, that takes a literal form of me being grabbed by a good friend as I race off to something that really doesn’t matter. So, on the rare occasions I do look back, usually I learn something.

Looking back with new knowledge can give you a fresh perspective. The things I learned in college became refined and altered to reflect the world outside of the bubble. I didn’t notice the changes, they were slow and spread out, but looking back at college Kim, she’s different. But that doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with her. She had a role to play in bringing me to the present. When looking back, it’s important to have compassion for your past self, even if  there are things you regret. I would hope you were just trying to make sense of a world that doesn’t do a very good job of explaining things.

Another piece of value in looking back is that it can show possible stagnation. As I said, I’m a future-oriented person, so I’m less prone to stagnation than most. Obviously, there is a difference between choosing to be still and grow in place and stagnation. But, in looking back, there should be change. I feel like a lot of us have at least one person in our lives who peaked at a particular point and just never really moved on from there. And that’s sad for a reason. We’re meant to grow and change, and to celebrate that change. I took joy in celebrating the people my college friends have become, and I would hope they appreciated my own attempts at progress. Though some areas see greater progress than others, it’s worth noting even the little things.

I feel like it’s important to keep pieces of the past in both my headspace and my physical space. Those memories and those mementos hold that space in time, allowing me to go back, revisit, maybe draw some new knowledge. And celebrate the growth. Bettering oneself is hard work, give yourself some credit. I am blessed to have people around me who are growing and improving and encourage me to do the same.

It's funny, as I type this, im wearing a red windbreaker that I got when I was fifteen. You might have seen me wearing it, it's way too big and painful 90's. I was in a play, and this cheap jacket was rescued from a thrift store to become part of my costume. I will never get rid of this thing. It reminds me of the first major role I ever got in a play, and one of my first major experiences finding a tribe of people who were just as bizarre as I was. But at the same time, I'm not the girl who wore this jacket on stage. And I'm glad for it. This jacket is a memento to remind me of where I have been, and how far I've come.

I want to be a person who never stops growing, learning, trying to be the best version of myself. I treasure the things of the past, and some of them should not change. Like those wonderful college friends who can always pick up where we left off. But I also delight in seeing them change, become better, find new things.

So here's to remembering the past, embracing the present, and seeing all the possibilities in the future.