Tag: writing

Travel, Wander, THE WAY †

Remembering in May

adacostauf

Sometimes I struggle. Some days more than others.

But every year, like clockwork, the worst month for me is probably May. May is for celebrating women who absolutely deserve it. The strongest ones, the hardest workers, the most caring: Moms. Mother’s Day.

And every year, like clockwork, there are hundreds – if not thousands – of ads for it.

Ads for sales. Ads suggesting what to get your mama.

Ads reminding many of us… How much we miss ours. How much we wish we could celebrate it ourselves.

In fact, if there was a way to do a bulk unsubscribe to emails and ads mentioning Mother’s Day, I bet you there would be a lot of takers.

Not because we don’t want to celebrate it. But because… we really miss our reason to and/or wish we had a reason to. I think I can speak for the batch of us that are in this arena; this isn’t a bitterness we want to have.

My mom passed away when I was 12. It was a lifetime ago, and thousands of memories ago, and you would think… this would go away. But every year, this month, I am acutely aware.

I wonder what we would’ve done if she was here. I wonder where she would’ve wanted to eat. I wonder what I would’ve bought her. I wonder what advice she’d have for me.

I wonder if I could have one of her hugs. Because sometimes I can’t remember her exact voice, and sometimes I can’t remember her precise laugh; but I will always remember the feel of her hugs.

I remember her kindness. I remember how she’d lean back in her royal blue desk chair while she was on the phone, a smile on her face. I remember watching her pull a homeless man out of a dumpster so she could give him food. I remember the countless thousands of dollars she lost in her job as an attorney, because she believed in families and did lots of pro bono work for her clients.

I remember her love for Jesus, and how important it was to her that I knew He would never leave me.

I remember her reading a book about pirates to me in the back of my grandparents RV as we were driving home from the Keys when I was really little. I think this is why I’m borderline obsessed with pirate history.

I remember her love for adventure. Pulling me out of school so we could go on cruises or road trips. She loved a good resort and a staycation. She loved adventure.

I’ve fought with myself over it as an adult. Because I want to plan and I want to go, but I feel guilty because…adulting.

But this is something my Poppie (my mom’s dad, a master of the sea, the air, and adventurer), instilled in her. And I like to think I inherited it from both of them. We need to go to breathe.

So on Sunday, on Mother’s Day, I threw things in a suitcase, got in my car, and drove. I drove south. As far south as I could possibly drive until I got tired (Key Largo), then a couple of days later, I drove as far south as I could until I was closer to Cuba than the mainland of the United States.

I prayed. I listened to fun music, to sad music, to reggae music. I wrote. I missed her. I cried. I tried to remember things, but also kept myself busy so I wasn’t stuck in my grief. I went to museums and learned about pirates. I discovered that chocolate covered key lime pie on a stick from Kermit’s is really the only way to eat the dessert of Florida from here on out (I still love you, Publix).

I swam in the sea. I dealt with a really mean lady that had me questioning life and met the nicest people who reassured me that the majority of people are great.

It was an experience.

It was something my mama would’ve loved. And Poppie, for that matter.

And my last day there, I found a contentment. A peace. Because I knew that aside from my struggles, my fears, my sadness and my mistakes – Jesus was with me. He showed me grace. He showed me beautiful days and beautiful sunsets and the kindness of others. And that I don’t have to be in control.

That even though I really miss having my mom here, my grandparents here, that I’m still a daughter. And I have a Father in Heaven who has never left me and never will.

He showed me it’s ok to grieve this. It’s ok to sit in the hurt, and move how I need to and go wherever the road (Jesus) might lead… Because maybe by living, and soul-searching, and going on random adventures is how I can remember my mom, my whole family best. They weren’t scared of living and living life to the fullest.

And hopefully, one day, I will get to teach my daughter(s) to do the same.

THE WAY †, Travel, Wander

I Would’ve Missed It

adacostauf

I would’ve missed it all.

Sometimes there’s snow.

Sometimes there’s a lot of snow. I see it on the news, I hear people talk about it. But as someone from Florida, I’d never seen it. Not even in the rare occasions when it’s snowed in Florida.

I’ve always wanted to.

I’ve seen it on the ground, on mountain trips. By that time it’s nearly solid ice. I think I remember my grandpa pulling to the side of the road so I could scoop up some hard packed snow when I was little.

But the magical white fluff falling from the sky?  Aside from an uncertain memory of my childhood that could’ve involved little flurries, that’s it.

I don’t remember it. And I wanted something I could remember.

I’ve had close calls (re: snow gate in Florida). I’ve been to NYC when it was freezing. I was in awe of icicles but didn’t see any flurries.

Until: God threw me completely off course.

I was supposed to go one way. A way that I had planned. And if I’d gone how I was supposed to, I would’ve missed it. I would’ve missed an answered prayer, and the beautiful snow.

I was supposed to fly to see my cousins. Not even considering it was spring break, and definitely not knowing the Florida Gators were traveling where I was to play a championship game, I’d booked my flight months in advance. I’d seen news of crowded airports – but I knew I’d be way early to it. I’m an anxious traveler, and this trip… I was very antsy of flying.

But I went, and I tried, and every parking lot at the airport was turning people away.

I was frustrated. I was antsy. And I made the most last-minute call of my life. I was driving. I ran by my house, grabbed a couple of extra things – what made me grab my heaviest winter coat, I have no idea (actually: Jesus). Then I drove all the way to Tennessee. (If you’re wondering, I did indeed question my sanity the entire drive up.)

I had the most wonderful time with cousins. We went to the Hermitage, and spelunking at Mammoth Cave National Park. I was supposed to have flown back that Sunday – instead, I was 250 ft below the earth, seeing God’s creation from a whole new perspective.

Sunday night, they had threats of tornados. We even took shelter for a bit. That was a new experience too.

My sweet cousin was able to go in late to work Monday, so we went to breakfast. It had been cold from the storms the night before… But when we were driving, there were little white cotton drops falling from the sky. Snowballs, my cousin called them. I was in awe!

Then, sipping on hot chocolate, my cousin was facing the window – and told me it was really snowing. So, like a child, I ran outside. It was really snowing. It was beautiful! I felt like a kid. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever been so excited about something since I was a kid.

Setting out for my drive home, there was snow. Then there was more snow. Thirty minutes into it, I started noticing white on trees – and realized that it was snow, sticking to them. I pulled over at a random state park with a forest and man-made waterfall, and it was a winter wonderland of snow. I took back roads to Helen, GA, and snow – of all shapes, sizes, fluff to sleet, followed me. It was incredible. I was in awe. I was crying because of how God had blessed me, crying because it was so white and so pure and such an answer to prayer.

And I would’ve missed it.

Had I gone the way I’d planned – even though I had anxiety, and it was hard – I would’ve missed the magic. I would’ve missed God’s answer to prayer.

But Jesus knew. And He took a lot of spring breakers, Gators fans, and no parking, to throw me off my course – and onto His.

Because He had this answer to prayer in store for me. And if I hadn’t gone the way that felt right, I would’ve missed the miracle.

He sees things we can’t. He knows things we can’t begin to comprehend. What had started out as something incredibly stressful and challenging (on my end and the world’s), turned into one of the most memorable, magical trips of my life. Spending time with family was a blessing. Going and seeing the upside down of God’s creation was a blessing. Seeing the opening of God’s storehouses laden with snow was such an incredible blessing.

Sometimes Jesus throws us off course. Sometimes it takes some really out of the box things to get our attention, to have blessings and answered prayers.

But when you’re walking with Christ? He’ll do it.

He loves us, He pursues us, He never gives up on us.

I’m not sure why He chose now to answer this prayer, but it was His perfect timing. And it was in a way, through a domino effect of circumstances, where I know, without a doubt, it was Him. All Him. Do I truly believe that the Creator of the Universe would have my trip disrupted to put me on a different course so I can be blessed? The Creator of the Universe is my Father. He loves me… and nothing is too hard for Him. Though I am insignificant in this world, I’m His daughter. He knows me. He sees me. And sometimes… He lets it snow.

Watch for Jesus. Next time something doesn’t go the way you planned, go the way that feels right. Walk into His open doors. He just might surprise you.