It must have been the 2nd or 3rd week in school my Freshman year at Bama when I met Sarah. We happened to be at the DZ house at the lunch at the same time one day. I noticed that she seemed a little shy so I stuck out my hand and introduced myself and asked if I could sit with her. From there, our friendship began. Sarah is tall (but who isn’t compared to my 5’1″ self) and from Birmingham. She has a very easy going personality. She has a deep, affecious laugh. She played classical guitar when we met. I think we both like Led Zepplin if I am remembering correctly. I’m not sure what her thoughts were when a short, brunette from a town she’d never heard from approached her. I imagine I sounded as country as cornbread as they say. Nonetheless, we accepted each other’s quirks and differences.

I also remember Sarah had an innocence about her. Once, in Wendy’s, we were talking with friends about let’s just say not so lady like things (grant me grace as I was 18 and out on my own for the first time). In order to explain what we referring to, we drew stick figures on a napkin. I wish I still had that napkin! It was hilarious, and I am sure we embarrassed Sarah but she laughed it off.

We always used to sing the 80’s song Sara to her but could never remember all the lyrics so we’d just sing “Sara, Sara…” We also loved the song Josie by the Outfield. Anytime it came on at party, we stop and belt out “I don’t want to lose your love tonight”(emphasis on tonight if you were singing it right!)

Sarah and my dance moves were questionable to say the least. We mastered the art of trying to look at cool at fraternity swaps by holding a solo cup in our hands. Let’s just put it this way- our sorority colors are pink and green and well, we fit more in the green color than pink. Girly, I’d say we aren’t and that’s probably why became friends instantly. We were surrounded by cheerleaders, Crimsonettes, door songs, and other girly things I’ve never been good at. Whatever, the reason, I thank God led me to Sarah.

We also shared the same big sister in our sorority. We still refer to each other as “twin” even at 36. The three of us were and are still close.

To say I am proud of her is a big understatement. In the last few years, she moved to Seattle to leave her comfort zone behind to pursue big things. She’s also learning how to backpack and hike in challenging situations and just recently came back from Alaska. Now days the only backpacking I do is scrambling to get one ready for my kid to get to school. Her pictures are breathtaking on these trips, and I believe she has a natural talent. I cannot wait to see where it takes her. I’m sure I’ll have guests over one day and they will be like, have you ever heard of Sarah and I’ll be like, “Yeah, she’s my best friend and twin.”

She has a heart of gold. She called me today to catch up. I’m grateful for anytime to talk to her and hoping to make a trip to Seattle one day to see her. One thing remains true of our friendship, no matter the distance or time that passes, when we talk I still feel like we are getting ready for a swap, hanging out at my apartment, or hitting up the 24 hour diner at Paty after a night out. Thanks Sarah for being my friend for 18 years! Look forward to the next 18 and more!

Disclosure: I am not sure the correct pronunciation of this beer. Please note that my granddad tends to appreciate a good dirty joke so if you are easily offended, pass this blog entry on by.

I believe it was when he was serving in the army and was stationed in Michigan that my granddad first heard of Griesedieck™ beer. When he began to tell the story, a shy grin spread across his face. I don’t remember exactly what he said but mentioned that his buddy had requested this beer one night while they were at a bar. The woman working told them, “Oh yeah, we’ve got those in a cooler in the back.” He’s told this story numerous times because my dad and aunt were both familiar with the story. You can imagine how he pronounced it when he told the story hence why the shy smile came across his face as I imagined him looking every time he told the story- from the time he left the bar in Michigan in 1950-something to now in 2021.

He confessed he never tried the beer, and I just laughed and said, “It doesn’t sound too good, does it?”, playing along with his inside dirty joke. Now, I can’t seem to get this beer out of my head. I had decided I would try to find it so that he and I could try it for the first time together and have our own inside joke. I found it online and unfortunately, it cannot be shipped to Alabama! However, it continues to plague my mind. if only I could just get a six pack or one for that matter. I fantasized about it being a memory we would share together even if we just took one sip each and laughed afterwards. From my research, this beer is brewed out of St. Louis, Missouri and has a very interesting history. Here is the link in case you are interested- http://www.gb-beer.com/. 

With the 4th of July just three days ago, it got me thinking about the words, pursuit of happiness. What did our founding fathers have in mind when the wrote the Declaration of Independence? I find the phrase The Pursuit of Happiness to be purely objective and maybe that’s what they had in mind when they wrote these words. I again got to thinking about my granddad and what his pursuit of happiness might have looked like when he was a child, a teen, a young adult, and now as an old man. What did my own pursuit of happiness look like? Was I pursuing it or just daydreaming about?

I think overtime our pursuits change as our priorities change. For my granddad, what may have been important sitting at that bar in Michigan, may have been replaced with just getting through the day to day without the love of your life by his side. I find I am my happiest when I’m with my family as I once thought I wanted to live in Washington D.C., far away from them.

For now, I will continue to dream up ways to get my granddad a six pack of Griesedieck™ Beer and to help him find a new pursuit of happiness. I am headed to Nola later in the week and maybe just maybe, I’ll find some.

Every memory I have of the 4th of July as child on up to early teens in my small town of Demopolis involved my dad’s rock and roll band playing at one of the band member’s house. This particular band member lived by the river and his home was a perfect spot to watch the fireworks. Dad’s band was the unofficial band of the town’s annual 4th celebration Freedom on the River. It was understood that if you were headed down to the river to watch the fireworks that earlier in the evening, dad’s band Breakaway would be performing. Cars would pull in the empty lots (were practice ball fields when I was kid) in front of Commissioner’s Street to park, watch the band, and catch the Fireworks at the end of the night. One thing that stands out in mind was the freedom we had as kids to wonder down toward the park by the city landing and around that area before returning back to the general vicinity of the band playing. It goes back to the whole it takes a village to raise a kid. Demopolis has and had plenty of good people that knew who you were even if you didn’t know them so mamas didn’t really have to worry too much about us acting out. The town would let your mama know if you misbehaved or yikes, if it was a close family friend, they had full rights to discipline you.

When I was in middle school, I remember sitting in a swing with close friends as we listened to one of them talk about his upcoming move to Arizona. It was devastating that one of us was moving and across the US! I also remember trying to pick out a sundress to wear for the occasion. Like I said, this was not just my dad and his friends but it was the whole town’s event. Who knew who you might see and if it happened to be that guy, you didn’t want to be caught dead in just a pair of shorts and t-shirt!

The fireworks! Oh, how I loved the fireworks. As they lit up the sky, you could see boats scattered along the Tombigbee, and I loved the picture they painted against our town’s water tower. The world seemed to stop when they started. It was as if there was an unspoken rule that everyone understood. There was no talking during the performance except for an “ooh or ah” and clapping. After the show, as customary at each performance, a recording of Lee Greenwood’s Proud to be an American would play on cue and again, silence. Silence for respect of those that made the ultimate sacrfice. Goosebumps would inch across my arm as I thought how special it is to live in the USA. After the song would end, the designated guy (not sure how he knew) would yell “Free Bird” or something to signify for the band to start playing again. The band would play a final set that included crowd favorites, such as, Play that Funky Music by Wild Cherry or Gimme Three Steps by Lynyrd Skynryd. The crowd didn’t seem to want the band to stop playing for they had finally started dancing.

Now, another 4th approaches. Not sure if the baby will stay awake long enough for the fireworks or if he will even like them. My dad will pick up his guitar and play the classics and some new hits. I’ll pretend to know how to sing but at least I’ll know all the words from being a band groupie all these years! A new star will take stage as my nephew sings. Goosebumps will inch across my arm as I am grateful to live in the US and grateful for another 4th of July with my family. Happy Birthday America!

I don’t come from a long line of tall people. In fact, most of the women I admire in my family shrink with age. It’s almost as if it’s a right of passage. For instance, my great aunt Nell was probably 4 feet 10 when she passed. God, I miss that woman. She was a spitfire. She used to sing old Johnny and June Cash songs with her boyfriend Dewey (her husband had passed many years prior). They’d sing to the top of their lungs in a key that most of us didn’t even know existed. She laughed. She lived. I even saw Jesus one time when I was with her in Chilton County. We were all riding around (aunts, grandmother, dad, her). We looked up and there was a man in what looked like to be dressed in a white robe and had long hair walking in the distance. When we saw him, she said, “I always knew Chilton County was God’s country.” There you go. If Aunt Nell said it, it must be true, and we all saw him! Since, I’m 5 foot 1, I think I am headed in the right direction- shrink a few inches and don’t give a hoot about what other people say.

I’ve been given a gift, the gift of time. Time to spend with my kids, time to write, time to cook. I don’t know what’s going on with me. I have made a dessert every weekend for 4 weekends straight, adding a fifth today-lemon tarts. Maybe, I’m becoming the Southern woman I’ve always been meant to be. Now, I’m not crazy. I can’t whip something up; I have to read instructions but it’s been so satisfying to see something from start to end and that I’ve created. If it’s a fruit, you best bet, I’m gonna figure out how to cook it. Thank God for Google.

With God’s gift of time, I’ve decided to spend once a week with my granddad- ask questions, learn. Give him my time which at this point in his life and even mine is important. I don’t know where this journey will lead us. I just learned recently about a candy dish he won at a cake walk when he was 8. He still has it. And the green bowl, he cooks his eggs in every morning, it was his mother’s. He estimates she had in the 1920’s. These things are important to him. He has a story to tell, just like the rest of us. It will be my job to tell his.

What we choose to do with our time will eventually reveal who we are in the end.

I hope how I choose to use mine helps someone- if not today, down the road. I hope they remember that how we measure someone cannot be defined in height, looks, status or size but by the impact they had on others.

My grandfather Herbert Eugene “Red” Hall

Another year, another year older. This year, I decided to list 35 things that have happened to me- some I’m proud of or hold fond memories, others not so much (more of a learning experience). Note: Some of these correlate with my actual age, a date, and something I just happened to think of. I’ll note on the post

1. I turned 1 on June 22, 1986. 35 years later, the 80’s feel like they were only 20 years ago.

2. When I think of the number 2, it reminds me of the 2 miscarriages I had before we had Anderson. It was sad and frustrating. It tested my faith but with a strong support system, we kept moving forward. Ladies, don’t ever think you are the only one and that it’s your fault. God’s just making a way for something better!

3. I don’t know what I’d choose if I had 3 wishes. I’d like to think I’d just give them to someone who really needs them. I don’t think I do.

4. My sister’s 4th child Sidda is like a daughter to me. She’s spent many a night with us.

5. My 5th birthday was at our house with a slip and slide. The cake even had a slip and slide on it. Friends from the Strawberry Patch (daycare) attended. In true Southern fashion, I wore a giant yellow bow in my hair with my bathing suit.

6. For my 6th birthday, I had my first sleepover with friends Kristy and Brandi.

7. My sister’s birthday is December 7. What a blessing to have a best friend and sister all in one!

8. I picked up my first softball at age 8 and retired years later at 14, when I decided to pick up a phone and call boys. I didn’t pick up another ball until my oldest was playing T-Ball.

9. I think I was 9 and the year was 1993 when I got my first diary. I kept a diary until 2002 and then revisited writing in 2017 in the form of this blog when my grandmother passed away.

10. The number 10 was my jersey number in softball because of Chipper Jones, the cutest ball player I’d ever seen who played for the Atlanta Braves.

11. In true Are You there God, it’s me Margaret fashion, I became a woman at 11. I was so disappointed. I wanted it to go away. Lucky for me it was in the summer and not at school.

12. I was 12 years old when I got my first real kiss. Ironically, it happened across the street from where I live now.

13. The same summer of the surprise party as noted below, I experienced my first broken heart as my first love moved away.

14. My parents and friends surprised with me with a birthday party when I turned 14.

15. I celebrated me passing my permit test with lunch at Dairy Queen in Linden.

16. I went to take the driver’s test on my 16th birthday. I failed the eye exam because I didn’t know I needed new contacts. I was embarrassed when people asked if I had my license. I finally got new contacts and passed the test a few days later NOT on my actual birthday.

17. At 17, I flew for the first time to Salt Lake City. I also was baptized surrounded by friends and family. I remember one of my friends coming to support me. Thanks Emily!

18. On June 18, 2020, Anderson had his first surgery to remove the blockage on his left kidney. It was 3 agonizing hours as I waited alone (due to COVID, Will could not come in until after we were in a room). I take that back, I wasn’t completely alone, the sound of other mothers waiting in other rooms lessened the loneliness.

19. I was 19 when Ben, my sister’s oldest came into the world. In a lot of ways, he is like me (I’m sorry Ben!) but I am so proud of him. Ben, keeping being you!

20. What I thought was a very adult relationship at the time, ended with us both cheating on each other. The first time and last time I ever cheated on someone. One of those relationships you knew wasn’t right but for some reason you stayed with them until it finally didn’t make any sense (like a brick hitting you over the head).

21. I graduated college at 21 and started my first big girl job as a Banquet and Catering Assistant for NorthRiver Yacht Club. I was hourly and thought I had made it when they finally agreed to get me business cards. My first few weddings I got under my belt was at this age.

22. I experienced another heartbreak- one I wasn’t sure I’d recover until I met my now husband.

23. When I turned 23, Will and I celebrated our birthdays together for the first time. He turned 27.

24. Will proposed to me 2 days after Valentine’s Day when I was 24. When the holiday passed, I thought, is he ever going to ask the question. He surprised me!

25. I was 25 when I got married. We were surrounded by all of our favorite people. One of the best days of my life.

26. Will was 26 going on 27 when he met me. Now, he’s the big 4-0! He’s going to kill me for posting this.

27. I got my first promotion and was actually over a department at the age of 27. I became the Membership Director of NorthRiver Yacht Club. I had my own budget to monitor and my own office.

28. I had my first child at 28.. After leaving the hospital thinking we’d have to wait longer, my water broke in our car at the red light at DCH. We had to make a quick U-turn.

29. As Bear Bryant once famously said about coming to UA, Mama callled. I was ready to move back to my hometown. So thankful I did.

30. We celebrated my 30th birthday and dad’s birthday in true Rogers style, complete with our favorite band Mojo Trio. Days later we lost a friend, a musical inspiration, Mr. Joey. Although, I didn’t know him as well as my dad, I still was saddened to hear of the news. Music lost a great guitarist.

31. I have always enjoyed Halloween. My oldest son’s first Halloween he dressed as a member of Lolly Pop Guild from the Wizard of OZ, a costume made by his Nana. I will never forget how cute he looked.

32. My grandmother gracefully left us when I was 32. I began writing again to deal with the grief. I spoke at her funeral, something I could have never imagined doing but it was important to her.

33. At the age of 33, we began the journey to conceive our 2nd child. It was full of bumps, tears, finger pricks, and blood pressure cuffs but you know the happy ending.

34. I gave birth to our caboose and rainbow baby. Days later we started his kidney journey.

35. At the age of 35, I decided with Will’s blessing to work part time and take a job I love.

36.

I intentionally left 36 blank because it’s a new year. Celebrating in a few weeks in New Orleans. Who knows? Maybe I’ll hold a baby alligator or try that flight of champagne I’ve seen on my instagram. Hopefully, we will potty train Anderson. Can’t wait to see what’s in store.

He or she is at every school in every town across America. You know her and as you are reading this, her name will come to mind. Although, looking back a lot of who this person was I created in my own mind. The popular kids or who we perceive to be popular are that by either birthright, the street they lived on, or a fairy Godmother some of us never seemed to possess. The birthright part is tricky because I have an older sister I consider to have been very popular but I am not sure that even though I was a legacy, that her popularity was passed down to me as I made my way down the halls of Demopolis Middle School. By now, the song Popular by the Butthole Surfers is playing in the soundtrack of your mind.

She had light brown hair with highlights from a summer at the pool and her eyes were hazel. Hell, who can compete with Hazel against my plain, brown eyes? When she walked by, guys stopped and noticed. She exuded so much confidence-it’s as if nothing bothered her. Her clothes were of the latest trends and from the most fashionable place in town – The Perfect Touch-down to the Birks on her feet. I looked down at my own clothes.

If you were of the betting type, you knew for sure, she would be elected to whatever was being voted on- whether it was as silly as who’s going to take money to the office for the teacher or “Best Dressed, Figure, etc.”.

Her ladies in waiting were always by her side-popular by default or appointment. I’d like to think that most were true friends to her, but I knew that some were looking for any opportunity to knock her off the throne.

A lot of decisions made in middle school were made with sound, reasonable judgment by answering two to three simple questions. The answers were actually what YOU thought she’d answer not reality.

1. What would she think?
2. Would she wear that?
3. Is she going?

You see, being your own person wasn’t quite in. And, oh the pressure to be something you know deep down you would never be.. it was exhausting. I knew, too, that I would never be able to ignore the beat that kept playing in my head, challenging me to seek my own path, the one less traveled, the one most kids did not even know existed or were too afraid to take.

One day she spoke to me. What do I do? Do I bow, curtsy? My brain said, “Speak dummy!” I said “Hi!”. And as the years went by, I began to realize that the popular girl, the band girl, or whoever was just like me. We were all trying to find our place in the world. We all had our own hopes and fears. We all wanted to be accepted for who we are.

I learned the importance of being a friend and accepting others for their differences. Widening my circle, being inclusive. Now, as an adult, I realize now more than anything, we still need to accept others for their differences, invite them to our table. For, we all have been the girl or guy who didn’t feel like they didn’t quite fit in and wondered if our existence mattered to someone.

Spoiler alert to the kids out there, popularity is only a myth we’ve created in our mind as to what we feel we have to do be accepted, to belong. In truth, no of us are popular. We are just trying to make it like the rest of the human race. Choose to be a friend over status.

I just found the clean version of my favorite song on Napster. I hit download and at a snails pace it begins to download. I am waiting on the phone to ring. Hoping, praying, willing it to ring and it be my best friend Morgan inviting me to spend the night or that guy to call. It rings. My pulse quickens. I run over and read the caller i.d. It’s for my older sister. I sigh and run back to the computer screen.. still downloading.

Morgan and I sit out in the front of her house watching the cars pass. “If a car comes from the left, it’s gonna be a good day. ” I say. A car comes from the right. We head back to her purple sponge painted room and start clipping out sayings from Seventeen magazine and Cosmopolitan. There’s a feature with Titanic footage. Score! We’ve only seen it a few dozen times this summer and Morgan owns the soundtrack. Between it, Weezer (the Blue CD), and Green Day, we keep her CD player busy.

Her mom calls out to us asking if we want a snack. Morgan sips her 3rd or 4th Mountain Dew of the day and eats her Reese’s cups.

Later that night, we meet up at Morgan’s summer boyfriend’s trailer to watch Scream. We don’t tell her mom what movie we are watching as we know we wouldn’t be allowed. We all start to cuddle with our boyfriends and turn the lights off. Morgan’s boyfriend’s mom has a touch lamp. With a few bumps, it’s dark except for the flicker of the television. His mom calls out, he bumps the light back on. Morgan’s mom calls and confirms our fate. She knows it’s Scream. Movie over.

The next weekend a friend has a party at his house for his birthday. Several leave the party to the woods to smoke cigarettes, a true 13 year old act of rebellion. I imagine most don’t even inhale but have to appear to be cool. Somebody plays Inside Out by Eve 6.

The next week drags by. I wake up at 10 AM and do my daily chores. Vacumn the den and wash the dishes. I gag at the soggy, lumpy grits left in the pan. I will the phone to ring. I turn the TV on and watch the Price is Right. Yes, they are playing Plinko. That weekend we stand in line at Marengo Theatre. What was the name of the movie? I anxiously wait to see if he’s going to reach for my hand or put his arm around me. I feel my stomach flip. He grabs my hand. It’s as sweaty as mine. You try to remember bits and pieces of the movie because you know your mother is going to ask. You try to remember the details of how he grabbed your hand because your friends will ask.

You get home, floating. The phone rings. It’s your best friend Beth. She wants to know details. There’s a beep. I click over and it’s for my dad. Click back to Beth and tell her I’ll call her later. Dad stays on the phone for what seems like hours.

Finally, call Beth back. Sister barges in demanding to use the phone to call what’s his name. She was just with him! She has her own car. Wish she’d leave me alone. Sigh. I hang up with Beth.

We head to CVS the next day. Those double prints are finally in. Geesh.. 3 days to get them back. Can’t wait to decorate my locker in the Fall. Waiting to turn 13 feels like an eternity. You see an older guy walk in. You try to not make eye contact or say something stupid. Those kind of things can haunt you for at least a week or two- at worst a month.

The summer drags on. I will the phone to ring. I record songs from the Top 8 at 8 just for a chance to hear Shorty Swing My Way. I almost have enough downloaded to burn a CD. Pearl Jam sues Napster. Bill Clinton didn’t inhale like the 13 year olds at the birthday party. What kind of stain was on her dress? Don’t understand.

8th Grade starts. We are the oldest at DMS. We think we’ve made it. 16 seems light years away. 21 even further and college. Boy- we didn’t know anything then but then again it was our forever and we were 13.

Probably listening to Green Day and willing the phone to ring…

I think I am having some type of mid-life crisis. In the last couple of weeks, I have said yes to so many things, I would have normally talked myself out of for whatever reason. For example, I went to Perfect Touch, a clothing store in my hometown on the pursuit of Tevas. Before I knew it, I was leaving with a pair of jeans, a top, and the Tevas. I normally would have walked in the store for 30 minutes or more holding the items I wanted, all the while talking myself out of these items and then carefully placing them back. Oh, and about the party last night. I am naturally introverted and a pretend extrovert. However, last night, I found myself at party in my new jeans and top, talking to people, smiling and laughing. I stayed as long as I wanted and went home early-satisfying my multiple personalities- the one who needs adult interaction and the one that needs to be a home with her family. Both girls were happy last night.

Then’s there kickball. A dear friend asked everyone on Facebook if they wanted to start an adult only kickball team and messaged me. I agreed to play. Now, there is a gazillion reasons I could have said no- childcare to start with but I thought to myself, I want to play kickball and I don’t care if I look like an idiot doing it.

Then, this morning I went to the Farmer’s Market. I tried to support every farmer there. I would have, too, if I had thought to bring a bigger stroller to hold my toddler and the produce. Came home with a ton of peaches, zuccini, and new potatoes. I am no cook but now I’m making peach tarts. What has gotten in to me? And there was that Estate sale just up the road from my house. I am sucker for an Estate sale- get to see the house and find something for yours- win win. Came home lugging a huge vase for my dining room. Did I need it? Certaintly not but it’s beautiful and only cost me $10.

Money doesn’t buy happiness but gosh I am sure feeling good! So much of my life I have made for myself has been calculated by me. In college, it was my 5 year plan. When I met Will, it was I’m gonna get married and have kids plans. I have been doing certain things because I thought I had to and by a certain deadline but who says? I have to admit I feel like a rebel but it’s really over silly things and decisions. Like I suck at peeling peaches and most tarts have sliced peaches and look really pretty. Not my peach tarts, we are going to just chop those bitches up. Still tastes the same right?

It’s not spending money on me that I think has made a change in my life. I think it’s been the choice to give myself room to breathe, to make mistakes, and saying no to things such as, setting myself unrealistic deadlines and expectations. It’s allowing myself to live and to choose to be happy doing things I like. I will always be there for my family but I am also going to be there for me and do things I enjoy. I’m a much better person, friend, wife, and mother when I can take care of myself too.

I am consciously choosing to live a full life and to love me every day. So, I am not sure who needs to hear this today, but go play kickball, by the shoes, make desserts, and my God, be happy.

The Vase from the Estate Sale and finds from Marengo County Historical Society Farmer’s Market (Happens every Saturday at Lyon Hall through August 14)

Peach Tarts made with love with my dear niece Sidda Leigh. We made mini tart shells out of pie shells (cut with the top of a mason jar). They were so yummy!

I fell asleep at 17 and woke to a strange, new reality. I was now 35, married with two boys. As the dream progressed, I learned that I lived back home in my small town, and I had married someone from my home town. We lived around the corner from his parents and only minutes away from mine. We have one large cat, a Maine Coon that thinks she’s a dog and insists on waking us when daylight breaks. I also find that in this dream, I have a fun and rewarding job at the School Foundation office. In my office hangs a degree from the University of Alabama and a plaque from my time as President of the local Rotary Club. I fall back asleep, thinking I’ll wake up and the year will be 2003. I’ll be on Walnut Street with my parents in my old bedroom, with my box of letters and photos of friends that took 3 whole days to develop. Instead, I awake and I am still an adult. Funny, how did that happen? I am fairly certain when I went to bed several days ago, I had just walked across the field and received my high school diploma.

To the Class of 2021, one day, you too will wake and realize that life as John Lennon put it is what happens when you are busy making other plans. Take this time when you are young to do things that scare the hell out of you. No, nothing illegal but challenge yourself. Only when we challenge ourselves can we make changes and improve. Travel, see the world, bartend for a summer. Childhood friends will always be important but college friends, they help us grow up and become the people we are meant to become.

Fall in love, fall out of love, take the time to find your lobster.You are too young to understand Friends‘ references but please go watch Friends.

Learn the value of a dollar. Live on your own and try as best you can to not depend on your parents. There is something so satisfying about paying your own way. You learn to appreciate things so very much more.

Savor every minute you can with your parents. Only God knows how long they have on this Earth. Your mom, she is and will become your best friend. Same goes with your grandparents.

Eat cake. Eat pizza. Eat all the Chic Fil A your little heart desires. Eat it all but in moderation. Take care of your body. You only have one. Start habits now that you can take with you so when you’re 35, it want be too hard to go for that walk or play tennis.

Find something every day to be thankful for (I promise there is a lot) and laugh. Laugh often and so hard, tears stream down your face. When you feel there’s no one to turn to, remember there’s someone up above who loves you.

Change the world-one person at a time. You will never know the power of kindness to just one person.

Don’t be afraid to ask for help. Process is so much more rewarding than the result.

Don’t blame your mistakes on the environment, other people, the President, or circumstances. Own these mistakes. Make mistakes- lots of them but also learn from them.

Choose to be the positive person. Don’t go on rants on social media. Social media will not solve your problems and don’t compare yourself to others online. What you see online is not reality. It’s a race- sometimes you are ahead, sometimes you are behind. It’s your race not someone else’s.

When all else fails, choose love. Faith, Hope, and Love but the greatest of these is Love.