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My assignment

God has put an assignment on my life and it is time I let go of the guilt for choices I make to honor my assignment. My assignment is this: CARING FOR MY FAMILY. That’s it. Several years ago, I attended a church service where a pastor first introduced me to the idea of God giving us assignments. Assignments can be people or causes or whatever God has called you to do. You can also have more than one assignment though I’m not sure if it would be feasible to manage multiple assignments simultaneously. I’ve known since I had children, my family is my main assignment. I love this beautiful family of mine, who God entrusted me with, and I am going to do whatever I can to make them feel loved, nurtured, and cared and provided for.

The Carrs on a bike riding adventure at the Veloway, Austin, Texas

When my husband, Bryan, had brain surgery due to hydrocephalus in 2016, we thought we had passed the worst of it, not knowing he would decompensate the following year, which entailed even more hospitalizations and treatment. I knew with my background in mental health and working directly with clients and helping them navigate through life (including medical appointments), it prepared me to attend to Bryan. It is difficult for the average person to navigate the medical care system, let alone experienced professionals. Even with my training and experience, I would get frustrated with the process of it all. Bryan is doing so much better and I have been grateful to be his advocate, case manager, and caretaker. I feel sorry for those who do not have this level of support.

Lucrece and Bryan in Corpus Christi, Texas


My son, Caleb, started struggling in middle school due to difficulty focusing. I made sure I attended all the school meetings regarding his learning and attempted to implement protocols at home to keep him organized. I typed “attempted” because they didn’t always work, especially if Caleb didn’t keep up with them. Bryan was the homework parent, and I was the organizer, scheduler, and shopper. In addition to emotional support, it was also important to me that my children had healthy, homecooked meals because I wanted to provide them with this type of nurturing. Therefore, I made sure I purchased healthy food options and I spent my weekends cooking.

Steak tacos…YUM!


For years, I have mentally tortured myself for spending most of my weekends prepping meals, cooking, attending to my family and home, playing with my children (when they were little), and doing some self-care activities instead of catching up on my never-ending work to-do list. I cannot pinpoint when, but I came to the realization I was deliberately choosing to focus on caring for my family, my assignment, rather than doing work activities. And this realization occurred over a period of time. Why would I feel guilty about that? It would have made more sense for me to be give myself some grace for all I was doing. However, internal and external forces made me feel like I wasn’t doing enough.


Since teleworking for over 2 years now due to the pandemic, I continued to bear this guilt. The lines between work and home are even more blurred working from home. I would spend my weekends attending to my assignment, all the while with the anxiety of “work” looming in my head. It was like background noise I could not turn off. Then Sunday night would inevitably arrive, and I realized I did not have time for work. But interestingly, that is when I would let it go and proclaim, “tomorrow is a new day”. Why can’t I start my weekend consciously saying I am devoting my weekend to my family (aka my assignment) and myself and be satisfied with that?

I wrote this on the dry erase board outside of my office in March 2020. I thought I was going to be back in the office on Monday, but we’ve been teleworking every since.


Earlier in the summer, a pastor at my current church preached about people being so stressed today and how we need to go back to some basic principles such as recognizing Sunday as being a day of rest. I knew that message was for me. I felt convicted as I listened. He did say to work hard Monday through Saturday. I left church promising to adopt this in my life. In honesty, I have slipped a few Sundays by doing some work, but the same degree as in the past. And for clarification, the commitment I made was not to do work for my place of employment on Sunday and to do most of my weekend cleaning and tiding up on Friday and Saturday. I don’t necessarily view cooking as work.


Another aspect where I find myself feeling guilty is when it comes to maintaining friendships. My life is plenty full, even with my children growing up. I have prioritized caring for my assignment. There are some people I stay connected with, but I realize there are many people of whom I do not due to the extra effort it takes. Aside from attending to my assignment, I value my peace, so I set boundaries which usually means less people around me. Plus, I am an introvert at heart so I am energized in small groups such as the size of my household (4) and in solitude. I will also add that long term friendships ebb and flow because we all have our assignments and things going on in our lives.


If you struggle with any of this, I hope you take what you need from my post, but mainly allow yourself some grace. The main thing I am doing is changing my mindset. I have already been practicing this. Rather than focus on what I don’t accomplish, I focus on the conscious choices I’ve made to attend to my assignment, what I did accomplish as a result of my choices, and then I give myself a mental high five for following the commitment to my assignment. That’s it.


For example, I started Saturday morning with attending a Zumba fitness class which was super fun and checked the self-care box. Afterwards, I went to the grocery store to pick up a few items for the household and it was nice to get there early. Then at home, I prepared a delicious lunch of leftovers. I then cleaned my bathroom and was pleased that a new product I tried removed the soap scum and hard water marks. I changed my bed sheets, did some laundry, dusted two ceiling fans. swept the floor in the main areas, wrote two work ideas down on my dry erase board in my office, watered, pruned, sprayed my indoor and outdoor plants, washed my hair, and polished my nails. I started this post before midnight on Saturday, which is another score for me. It was a very productive day for sure. Great job, Lucrece!

What is there to feel guilty about? If anything, I need to process more deeply what about my work environment causes me to feel guilty when I’m unable to work on my off days. What is it about me that requires me to believe I SHOULD be able to do it all when in reality, it is not feasible. And I’m working on removing the word “should” from my vocabulary because it’s like setting limits on yourself. Prioritizing my family (and my self-care) when I’m not scheduled to work is what I need to be attending to on my off hands. For limited time work projects that require a little extra work on my off days, I’m willing to accommodate, but not like I used to. This is coming from a recovering workaholic.


The light lessons for this post are: 1) deliberately change how I view the situation by acknowledging the choices I am making; 2) committing myself to those choices; and 2) praising myself with positive self-talk. If I go even further, I could maintain a journal or phone log of choices/accomplishments I’ve made for the day. I did try this for a few weeks and didn’t keep up with it. I just might pick it up again.

If you struggle with work guilt, mom guilt, friend guilt or just general guilt, I’d love to hear how you handle this. Drop a comment if you feel so inclined. Until next time.

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A SoSo check in

I couldn’t end July without acknowledging how much I think about my mom (or mummy as I called her) during this month. Five years ago she passed away on July 8th and her homegoing was on July 14th. I had just made a visit to Chicago, IL in June 2017 (from Austin, Texas) and she looked happy that all of her children were together. Then, less than a month later, she passed away. I’ve been wanting to blog all month, but have not been motivated to do it. My basic internet search on the stages of grief outlines the stages as: 1) denial, numbness, and shock; 2) bargaining; 3) depression; 4) anger; and 5) acceptance. Every person grieves in his/her own way and I can say I haven’t experienced all of these phases. The place where I think I am is acceptance though acceptance doesn’t mean I don’t miss my mom or that on occasion, I’m overcome with emotion from missing her.

I wish she were here to experience all of the milestones in her legacy’s lives. Since she’s been gone, she missed my son’s graduation from high school, my nephew and nieces’ graduations from college, seeing my husband, Bryan, on the other side of his illness which was a struggle for many years, visiting us in our new home, and seeing us all get together for Thanksgiving 2021. Most recently she missed her grandson (my nephew) moving to another state (Colorado), her granddaughter (my niece directing a movie for her master’s thesis at UCLA), and she will miss the birth of her first great grandbaby in September.

Lately, I’ve been noticing that I look more and more like my mummy, Solange, affectionately named “SoSo” by my stepfather who passed away a few years before her. I’ve always looked like SoSo, but I really see it now in not just appearance, but mannerisms. I see her in certain facial expressions I make and in my body composition, especially after having a hysterectomy earlier this year. SoSo also had a hysterectomy when I was 16. In fact, her difficult recovery is why I chose the most least invasive approach with my doctor.

SoSo taught me so much good such as believing in God, having values, caring for my family and household, cooking, standing up for myself, keeping my word, having a good work ethic, and seeking medical care to stay on top of my health, to name a few. The drive to constantly be better and do better is what I got from her. In truth, the hypercritical aspects of how I view myself I also got from her. I’m slowly detaching from those things. The beauty of the mind is that you can choose what you focus on. My relationship with SoSo was not perfect as I noted in a previous blog post Reflections on Life Without My Best Friend on Mother’s Day.

Am I becoming SoSo? I don’t think so. We believed in different things and navigated life differently. However, we are the same on things that matter like love and family. I’m going to make sure all the beautiful things about her continue to live in me and through my children. I know the many bad experiences she lived through also made her the person who she was. I’m just grateful that through her pain, she instilled in me some good. That good will live on.

Here’s a light lesson if you’re grieving the loss of a loved one like a parent (or anyone): Think about how you can keep them close by holding onto all of the good they shared with you and how they would want you to live (assuming it’s positive). And think about how you can share that good with others and then do so. I feel obligated to be the best person I can be because I know SoSo would want that.

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He loved us with his whole ❤️

Today, on Easter Sunday, I’m finally able to gather my thoughts to blog about unexpectedly losing our beloved Beignet on Wednesday. What we thought was a simple trip to the vet to get some medicine because he was clearly not feeling well, turned into us saying our last goodbyes to our sweet, mischievous kitty.

Beignet cozied up on the couch.

It came on so quickly. While she was getting ready for school, my daughter noticed Beignet could only take a few steps and would sit down. I picked him up and noticed he was very light…he had lost a lot of weight. Every time I put him down, he would immediately lay down. My son expressed his concerns about Beignet’s lethargic behavior. My husband got an appointment scheduled for later in the morning.

Beignet and Cannoli wanting to get into the office, but I threw them out and closed the door cause they had been fighting.

We went from worrying about if we could afford whatever treatment he might need to learning not only he had a knot in his stomach, he had an advanced illness which we didn’t know about. The doctor wasn’t sure if he would survive the surgeries, let alone the recovery and treatment that would follow. We decided to put him down so he wouldn’t be in any more pain.

Beignet inspecting the windows in the new house

Beignet was the type of cat that was always into something. We were calling his name constantly. It’s so quiet now. Beignet was the dominant cat in relation to his brother, Cannoli. We got them both when they were about 4 weeks old and this year makes 6 years since they became a part of our family. They definitely had different personalities. Beignet desperately wanted your attention ALL THE TIME. Cannoli was more subtle in his approach.

Beignet enjoying the window on a rainy day.

I used to joke with my husband that I needed him to show me the type of love Beignet showed me. Beignet would sleep on my shoes, keep my office chair warm with his body, try to sip my bath water, usher me around the house, give me tail hugs, and gaze into my eyes. He was also a pain because he would chew on things he shouldn’t like some of my plants, any type of string, and plastic things.

He would never poop in the litter box. He would poop around it, but never in it. We tried every cat litter around. At one time, we had four litter boxes around the house. Then, I gave up eventually. We would be sure to keep bathroom doors closed because something about a hard surface floor made him want to poop on it. The kids have been greeted by a turd a time or two in their bathroom. That’ll teach them for keeping the door open.

Beignet asleep on my office chair again.

I cried so much and so hard while saying goodbye. In fact, we all did and the tears still come and go. My mourning was no different than losing a person I loved. He was our fur baby, a member of our family for almost six years. We raised him from four weeks old. We all loved him so much and thought we would have at least ten more years with him. We know Beignet loved us with his whole heart. Beignet knew we were his and I got to thank him for loving us the way he did.

Oh Beignet

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LOVE Yourself

As most people focus on romantic love on this Valentine’s Day, I’m sending a gentle reminder to everyone who reads my post to also focus on demonstrating love to yourself every single day. Valentine’s Day is cute and sweet, and my husband, Bryan, and I take it in stride. It is a commercialized holiday and just from stopping at a few grocery stores earlier in desperate search (slight exaggeration) of a special type of Asian dipping sauce, we could see the stores were all decked out with flowers, balloons, candies, and gifts.

We know every day counts for showing love to each other and our family. It doesn’t take a holiday to remind us. We did celebrate a little this year with Bryan giving our daughter some treats, buying me some flowers, and making us some delicious margueritas. I made a lovely dinner of pasta and salmon. However, I do think we all need some reminding to love on ourselves because we can often be our own worst critics. And it’s really difficult to love others without loving yourself first. It may not even be possible to fully love others if you don’t fully love yourself first.

As a step towards demonstrating some self-love and self-compassion for myself, several months ago, I created a list of how I will be more compassionate with myself. I keep this list in the notes in my phone and refer to it whenever I need to. Maybe you’ll get some ideas on what you might want to focus on for yourself. You get double points for writing it down.

I will show some compassion for myself by:
*Prioritizing sleep and rest when I’m tired
*Not pushing myself so hard, especially when I’m tired. *Don’t delay eating and going to the restroom when I need to
*Replacing my internal dialigue with more positive, gentle, & calming statements
*Ending circumstances/relationships that don’t align with my values and/or cause me distress
*Reminding myself I’m doing the best I can
*Stop judging myself harshly
*Appreciating who I am, my body, and my accomplishments
*Replacing time thinking about how much I have to do with thinking about things I’ve accomplished
*Slowing down
*Sitting down and breathing
*Stop comparing myself to others
*Meditating daily…sometimes several times a day

This is just a sample list and I add to it as I get more ideas. I receive enough judgment, pressure, high expectations, and comparison from others for reasons of which I can’t control. I’m tired of being hard on myself too. Adhering to this list is something within my control. I choose to demonstrate love to myself because I’m pretty amazing when I think about it. I hope you choose the same for yourself because you’re pretty amazing too when you think about it.

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For the caregivers in the house

In January 2020, I blogged about being brave and accepting the realities of my life, which at the time was to be the caregiver to my husband, Bryan. MAN, have the tables turned because for the past two weeks and until I’m recovered from my surgery, Bryan has once again been my ROCK, my caregiver. Honestly, the tone of that Post was touching on “Poor me”, but I’m humbled again by Bryan taking care of me in my sickest moments. And I have to add his brain health and memory have improved tremendously since this mysterious (to us) chronic illness landed in our lives roughly five years ago.

We have repeatedly lived out the theme of “in sickness and in health” from our wedding vowels. I’m jokingly losing count of our illnesses/conditions, but between the both of us, here’s a sample: brain surgeries, hydrocephalus, knee surgery, breast cancer, surgeries, and treatment, wisdom teeth removal, hysterectomy, and menopause.

Could I have imagined all we’ve been through thus far while raising our family? No, but we’ve been married for twenty four years and life happens. I’m not bitter or disillusioned either. This is marriage. We love each other and will do whatever we can for the other person. I’m deeply grateful I have a partner who is devoted to me and our children. We will continue to take turns being the caregiver for as many times as we need to for the rest of our lives.

So if you’re a caregiver of any age, to any one, I know what that means. I encourage you to be brave. Stay encouraged. You are the best person to care for your loved one. But take time for yourself. I know this sounds cliche, but it’s so true.

Normal things people don’t think of count towards self-care like breathing, taking a warm shower, cooking (or buying) healthy meals to nourish yourself while you care for others, drinking water, calling/texting a friend, unplugging, listening to inspiring music, researching support groups online, and taking time off work, to name a few.

If you’re a caregiver, you’re not alone. I’d love to hear how you take care of yourself. Please share any tips for me and Bryan as we embark on this journey together.

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What 23 years of marriage looks like

Last weekend, my husband, Bryan, and I celebrated our 23 year wedding anniversary with a bang! Rather than do what we’ve normally done, which is go out to dinner, we actually stayed at a very nice, hotel in town for the weekend. It was an amazing experience. My greatest pleasure was watching Bryan ENJOY himself that weekend.

Bryan in the DREAMY restroom at the Fairmont Hotel, Austin, TX, 9/19/2020. LPC

This was a first and we both agreed that we will prioritize getting away every year from now on, even if it’s a local getaway. In fact, we’ve been thinking of an excuse for another getaway. His birthday is coming up in December. 😁

I can’t speak for all marriages, but it’s really easy to become complacent and take each other for granted. In one of our pastor’s sermons, he talked about how it’s the “little foxes” that build up, sneak up on you, and can harm your relationship. Complacency and familiarity are little foxes.

You’ve got to MAKE time to celebrate the milestones at least, but it will only enhance your relationship to acknowledge the seemingly small every day things. Life is filled with the every day things.

Since COVID-19, I’ve seen hints of people on social media complaining about being confined with their spouses and have seen (not read) articles on how to manage being in close quarters with your partner. Although 2020 has been a tragic year for many, and we still have a few months to go, it’s been a blessing for Bryan and I to spend so much time together. It’s been a blessing for our whole family.

This is not to say there aren’t frustrating times. We still bicker about insignificant stuff, but we’ve gotten better at stopping ourselves from going down a unwanted road because we’re focused on the big picture. Bryan recently adopted a strategy of saying how much he loves me when I’m annoying him. It’s effective in that it STOPS ME in my tracks.

Twenty three years is the life of a whole adult person. Bryan and I have experienced so much in that time. The best thing is that it doesn’t feel like 23 years. Our love for each other has grown exponentially. We have always enjoyed each other’s company. We respect each other tremendously. We support each other.

In 23 years, we’ve: *Moved and set up a life in Texas *Advanced our education *Increased our faith in God *Grown spiritually *Joined two different churches (at different times) *Built two houses (new house is in process) *Lived in 3 different residences *Had two beautiful children *Been hired at several organizations *Had several surgeries each *Have been diagnosed with chronic, life changing illnesses *Have been each other’s caregiver *Supported each other through the loss of close family relationships *Traveled locally to various Texas cities & visited our hometown of Chicago many times

These are just the main milestones I can think of at this time. I’ll probably add more throughout the week.

Though you didn’t ask, the best advise I will provide on marriage is to choose your partner wisely from the beginning. I realize there’s not much you can do about that if you missed this mark and are in the marriage. However, if you’re not married yet, this one is for you. Then, commit to the relationship beyond any other commitment you could ever make. That commitment will see you through a multitude of circumstances. Don’t take your partner for granted and celebrate your relationship regularly.

Complimentary champagne at the Fulton 9/20/2020. LPC
Fairmont Hotel corner suite on the 14th floor. LPC

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Lessons from Solange: Part Two

I’m behind on my blog posts, but I always return back to what brings balance and peace in my life: one such thing is writing. In May, I wrote the blog post Lessons from Solange: Part I. I had intended to complete my second installment sooner than now, but better late than never. I think about my mom often, but my recent trip to the Dominican Republic has me thinking about her and the lessons she taught me even more. My mom, Solange, passed away on 7/8/2017, so we’re coming up on the 2 year anniversary…another reason I’m thinking of her. I requested that day off work, so I can spend the whole day thinking about her undisturbed. I wrote about my grief and loss in these posts: Goodbye, So So, my Haitian queen, Surreal-ality, and Family is everything. I hope these posts will help anyone who has lost someone close to them like a parent.

When you really think about it, it’s amazing the amount of influence mothers have with shaping their children’s lives. I’m more focused on my mother because I didn’t have a relationship with my biological father. He passed away a few years before my mom. My mom was my everything. She shaped my world. You only have one mother. Despite how complicated our relationship was and how much we disappointed each other, the bond was undeniable and cosmic.

A few more lessons Solange taught me that the world (more accurately, the people in my world) get to experience:

  1. Be a good cook – My mom was of the belief that you need to be a good cook to get a husband. My younger, rebellious self was not thinking about a husband. I was about 12 years old when my mom put her foot down and started to teach me how to cook particular dishes. Tears are coming down as I think about how much I respect her now for doing that and how ungrateful I was at the time. It was like participating in my very own cooking class and I didn’t appreciate it. Because I am a good cook thanks to her, I’ve had the satisfaction of pleasing my family with many delicious meals. Did I think my mom’s ideals were sexist…YES! However, I happen to have a family and I know they appreciate my cooking. I can feed them, which I think means something different when poverty was part of your history. I also am able to cook Haitian foods, which connects my family and myself to our heritage. I’ve shared my cooking with others such as extended family, friends, and coworkers. It’s the gift that keeps on giving.
  2. Dress well – If you knew my mom, you know she loved her suits, shoes and purses. For every shoe she had, she had a purse to match. After she passed away, I wrote a post about a pair of shoes I took of hers back to Austin. You can read it here: In her shoes. My mom passed on her love of dressing well to me. It was one of the few indulgences she was able to entertain and she deserved it with all the trauma she experienced in her life. I love clothes and I have many of them. A few months back, I binge watched “Marie Kondo’s Tidying Up” on Netflix and purged my supply. I vowed to only keep clothes that bring me “joy” moving forward. In a “not superficial way”, the lesson I received from my mom was to have pride in my appearance, to take care of myself, and to be aware of how I presented myself to the world.
  3. Be a giver – When I was in graduate school, I participated in counseling the last 6 months before graduation because I needed help with managing the stress of being a working mom in a graduate program and attending to my final internship. As I hashed out my stress to the therapist, she said something that I will never forget. As an explanation to my woes in a particular circumstance, she said, “it’s because you’re a giver”. Quite frankly, the comment floored me because I never thought of myself as a “giver”; yet, I had this insatiable appetite to give all the time. I’d often prayed to God to “use me for his purpose”. The therapist referred me to an article about givers and it made sense. It was at that point, I knew I was a giver. Now where did I get this trait? My biggest role model for giving was my mom because she gave so much of herself to her children. She also gave to others like her family in Haiti, New York and beyond. We didn’t have much growing up, but on occasion she would host dinner parties at our small apartment. I remember being so embarrassed because my brother’s bed was in the living room, but she wasn’t too proud to have people over to experience her cooking. She was my greatest example of a giver. I’ve learned to balance some of that giving to others with giving to myself.

A mother’s love is like no other in the cosmos and you only have one. I’m thankful Solange shared many light lessons with me, even the ones I didn’t want.

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Live Your Life

Here’s an idea…it’s your life, so why not live it unapologetically…full throttle, without all the explaining? How about you check in with the people who depend on you to make sure you don’t leave them in the dust, but aside from that, it’s your life for the taking, so LIVE it.

My LIGHT lesson for this post is to do whatever you need and want to do to live your life to the fullest….your “best life” as often phrased today, in our American culture. However, also spend a good amount of time “being” rather than “doing”. “Be” for the sake of “being” and not to prove to friends, family, coworkers, haters, society, or who ever. Be the change, inspiration, advocate, enthusiast, peace, love, etc. Stop seeking other people’s approval and/or permission.

I remember years ago, my male boss at the time asked me what I was trying to prove. Granted, I believe he was threatened by me, but I did have an aura about me that took on the air of having to prove something to the world. I was in graduate school at almost 40 years old, worked full time, had a family, and was a first generation college graduate after having previously been a college “drop out”. My mother was a single parent from a different country who cleaned hospitals for a living. My father was abusive and did nothing to support us. The odds were stacked against me, for sure. I remember my aunt saying to my mom in creole when I was about a pre-teen, “what are you going to do with her?”. The “her” was me. So I thought I had a lot to prove to everyone. That pushed me to crush goals, but I could have possibly gone farther had I focused that energy to prove on myself. I don’t know. Nowadays, I have nothing to prove to anyone, but myself.

I type this like I have it all figured out and I don’t. However, I know what I’m striving for and I’m tired of setting limits on myself. The beauty of getting older and being a breast cancer thriver is I care less, but there is room for me to care to a lesser degree about what others think of me.

One step I’ve taken to get more clear on my goals is to reduce my time on social media. As much as I love catching up with family and friends and getting updates from my favorite pages, my struggle with social media is the many competing messages about most everything and everything seems to be taken out of context. You see the constant self-promotion and borderline narcissistic posts. There’s the danger of getting into the “comparison” trap. All of these factors, and more, are counterintuitive to how I see myself “being” in this life.

As I process this message, I’m sure I will find other areas I will want to work on to get me where I want to be. In the meantime, I will strive to live unapologetically and in full throttle.

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This is for you, my ❤

A whole lot can change in a year! On this day in 2017, I was trying to get through to Bryan’s (my husband), neurosurgeon’s office. After watching his decline for the past several months, but especially over the pre-Christmas weekend, I decided we were going to see his doctor that day, the day after Christmas, instead of waiting for the scheduled appointment in two weeks. He needed an adjustment to the shunt inserted in his brain in 2016. I had been telling the physician’s assistant and doctor about his symptoms for months, but his lab results kept coming back “normal”. They didn’t listen to me and suggested he see a neurologist for the memory loss.

On 12/26/17, no one answered the office phone and there was no answering service. Plan B was to take Bryan to the emergency room, but I didn’t know if I would be able to convince him to go. A slight panic was developing inside of me, but I am calm under pressure. He had been very lethargic the whole weekend and complained he was tired when I said something. I knew we were up against the clock after I had done some additional research on his symptoms on Christmas day. Thankfully, he agreed to go to the emergency room, but another problem ensued. He couldn’t get out of the bed. I noticed his eyes were glassy. He tried over and over again to get out of the bed, but I could see that his nerves wouldn’t allow his body to do the simple action. I called to our son, Caleb, to help and nothing. Thirty minutes later, I moved to Plan C which was a call the paramedics. He couldn’t walk. He wasn’t oriented to time. He thought it was July 2008.

Seventeen days later, Bryan returned from the hospital. He was released from the intensive care unit after the second day, received a shunt adjustment, and was eventually moved to the rehabilitation center within the hospital where he had cognitive, speech, and physical therapy. Following his hospital admission, he had another four months of cognitive, speech, and physical therapy.

Whew!!! Typing this post is stirring up all the emotions I experienced at the time. Our lives were totally disrupted again. You can read my previous blog posts to learn more about our journey. Somehow (update and more precisely…by God’s doing), I managed to get a promotion through this latest ordeal, which I needed because Bryan was not able to work. I managed to get my kids through it and keep our family’s day to day schedule going. However, this blog post is not about me, but of the sheer strength, will, and resilience of my husband.

We’ve been married for twenty one years so it goes without saying I love my husband, but I’ve gotten a whole new appreciation for this guy. His life was totally disrupted. He suffered a great deal. This is a college-educated man, who embodies being a provider for his family, and is faced with the prospect of never working in his profession again. For most of 2018, he’s been recovering while battling depression and coping with his disorder. Yet, what I’ve seen from him in these last few months has been amazing.

He started feeling better later in the summer while embarking on our long walks around Austin. I could tell he was better because he started planning and getting back involved with the kids’ schools. He’s always been the school and homework guy. If there’s a problem with the administration and/or treatment of my kids in their respective schools, then I’m the tough person they will answer to. I don’t play around. In November 2018, against my advice, Bryan applied for some seasonal work. It was all physical and what I witnessed was an improvement in his overall cognitive function and mood.

For us, Christmas is about celebrating Jesus’ birth and being grateful for our blessings and family. Due to Bryan’s efforts, we were able to have a Christmas with gifts. I get paid well, but enough to cover our living expenses. Living in Austin is not cheap. He even surprised me with my gifts. In fact, for the first time ever, Bryan did almost all of the Christmas shopping. Granted, I work long hours, but he said it was the least he could do since I was doing everything. I don’t see it that way. Working isn’t the only way to contribute in a marriage/family, but I’m married to a manly guy, so his esteem is rooted in providing for his family. I’m working on having him see it differently. Whatever the case, he came through in a big way and when you’ve been married as long as we have, you don’t keep score. There have been times where he’s carried me. Our job is to carry each other when needed. And for the record, I don’t really see myself as carrying him. I’m grateful I’m able to support my family.

At the beginning of 2018, I was hesitant about creating new goals because I wasn’t sure what life would throw at me. Heck, he didn’t get released from the hospital until 1/12/18. My main goal at the time was to get him out of the hospital. Between my health and his, we’ve been on a roller coaster ride since 2016. Upon witnessing Bryan’s healing, I’m inspired. I’ve prayed a lot for his healing and so have others. We still don’t know what’s in store for his future, but we’re in it together and can overcome anything.

All this to say, I had a FABULOUS Christmas and am looking forward to 2019 thanks to my ❤.

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Fall is in the air

As I look at my overgrown vines and potted plants, I think our front stoop resembles a quaint cottage, which is perfect for fall. Fall is in the air. I’m so ready for sweater and scarf weather, acorn squash, cornbread dressing, and cozying up in the house with my loved ones watching tv. Truth be told, I’ve been ready since August and so has my daughter, Elise. In fact, Elise wants to go straight to Christmas. She already gave me her Christmas list. She’s been listening to Christmas music. One of my team members told me recently that my office smells like Christmas. Yep…on purpose. 😁

There’s been an article circling on my social media feed indicating that putting Christmas decorations up earlier may make you feel happier (read it here to find out why). I’m not going as far as putting up Christmas decorations in October, plus my husband won’t have it. However, we generally have our Christmas tree out by Thanksgiving. We slowly add the other decorations over the following week, but the tree has to be out and decorated.

Back to fall: I believe I’ve been craving fall because I want to slow down, retreat, and surround myself with warmth. For me, warmth is my family. I did grow up in Chicago which has very distinct seasonal changes so this may be a factor as well. It’s also been a busy, demanding year. I think Elise knows it too. I received a job promotion in January and my husband, Bryan, was released from the hospital, also in January, after having been hospitalized for 17 days. I’ve been the sole financial provider for my family while keeping up with my husband’s condition (which is foreign to us although we’ve been learning) and the many doctor’s appointments amongst us all, but especially Bryan. Prior to Bryan’s condition, I’ve not attended his doctor’s appointments, but it’s essential now. It’s been a demanding year for all of us. Everyone has made sacrifices.

In the midst of everything, I’ve been working at holding my own at work while keeping my family together. I have a lot on my plate. I manage a team at work and manage my team at home. I’m not complaining, but merely stating facts. I know myself enough to know I need to recalibrate some things to maintain a balance in my life. This is precisely why I’m looking forward to the overall holiday season…so I can slow down. Office closures make me slow down. Kids out of school make me slow down. Dinner with family and friends make me slow down.

I also am looking forward to more blogging during the fall/holiday season. My busy schedule doesn’t allow me to blog as often as I’d like or planned (weekly). I hope to change it up soon. My blog messages are simple by design because I don’t feel like I need to use complicated, flowery words to make an impact. After reading other blogs, I’ve thought maybe my posts are too simple, but I don’t want to go over people’s heads. I also don’t spend a lot of time developing my posts. As a recovering perfectionist, I would never get the blog posted if I spent too much time on it. An idea comes to mind, I write for an hour or so, then I post. I make edits later. My aim is to make my messages simple, digestible, and relatable. I’ve gotten some indication through “likes” and facebook I’m not alone…others can relate of which I’m grateful.

New seasons allow me to reflect and start fresh. Self-awareness allows me to assess what’s working and not working. It’s an opportunity to refine and adjust.

I would love to read which season(s) resonates with you.