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I remember when...

 The most treasured heirlooms are the memories of family. 

Sometimes it takes one small thing to bring back a thousand memories. Yesterday it was the smell of blooming sage. As I was hiking the foothills I plucked a sprig and brought it to my nose and suddenly, almost magically, my most happy childhood memories were there at the forefront of my mind. 

The months we spent as a family up at our cabin in the Sawtooths were our happiest moments. I can feel the rocks beneath my shoes, the scratch of the sagebrush against my shins, feel my moms hand in mine, smell my dads aftershave from somewhere ahead of me, hear my sisters walking and laughing beside me. 

The best part of reliving these memories is knowing that I’m not forgetting. Because forgetting them is the one thing I’m most afraid of. I know I have said that before, and I know I will say it again.

 Knowing that the next time I walk among blooming sagebrush, I walk with them... well that’s the least lonely I have felt in a very long time. They may be gone, but definitely not forgotten.

I'm nominated!

 I've been nominated for a Liebster award (WHAT?!) Its crazy to me because I have always seen my blog as a place for me to mindlessly write, or word vomit, as a way of clearing my head and dealing with anxiety. Its been a place for me to tell my story my way, and my way of keeping my familys memory alive through words. To know that someone is inspired by my blog is pretty heartwarming.
I was chosen by the beautiful Catherine at Working with Bipolar who I found through Instagram. She is a beautifully honest writer. She is amazing! Thank you, you beautiful soul.

January 19

January 19th is kind of a dirty word in my home. I try my best to block out my experiences that day, but its kind of a fruitless effort. Its the day I watched my mom take her last breath. Its the day that CPR became a real thing. Its the day I heard the EMT say, "we've got her back" only to jump in the car, get to the hospital and be told that she didn't make it. She was done. Her body was tired, but my heart hurt... my best friend just left me. I remember walking out and standing outside the automatic doors at the entrance of the Emergency Room and I just couldn't breathe. I couldn't catch my breathe. I didn't cry then. I didn't cry for almost a year. I got to business breaking the news to everyone. Those are cries and wails you never forget. The hurt was so fresh because we'd suddenly lost our sister Chante just weeks before. We didn't have time to grieve one before being shocked by another.