Where Were You When the World Stopped Turning?

Six months ago the world changed. The numbness, fear, and pain remain for so many. I’ll admit it, they remain for me.

Alan Jackson sings the song "Where Were You (When the World Stopped Turning)", and we know the song to be about that day in September almost 12 years ago. However, in my little bubble the world stopped turning on the axis I trusted for 34 years on January 10, 2013.

I did not cry that morning.

I did not break down.

I did not throw anything.

I just stared.

The carpet was blue with brown spots; coffee stained the floor to the left of where I sat. I know this because it was what kept me grounded in the first moments of realization.

Hysterical laughter took over 12 hours later when I found out the shoulder I'd been waiting to cry on would not be there for much much longer. The person on the other end of the phone asked if I was alright. My response, “I am most certainly NOT alright!”

Six months later, I’m ok.

They have not been empty months; lonely, but not empty. New friendships have been forged; games have been won and lost. Moments have been experienced. Countless miles have been driven. Countless miles.

This story has taken me from Houston to Galveston to Austin to Missouri and in three days to Nicaragua. I'm excited about Nicaragua for multiple reasons. It is a mission trip through New Hope Church in Pearland. Some of you may think it’s odd, because you know I'm not an overtly "churchy" person. I could not recite a bible verse if Jesus himself came down from the skies and demanded I do so. To me, this trip isn't about church, it's about change. Maybe for one week I can make a change in someone's world that is not directly related to my own. Maybe I can find strength to deal with the changes brought upon by that day in January and the certain changes I will be facing in the coming months.

I learned this phrase Sunday: Omnia mutantur, nihil interit, by Ovid.

"Everything changes, nothing perishes."

Ovid is correct, everything DOES change. I have two tattoos, as well as a necklace I never take off, as a sort of testament to my belief in ever changing life. The part that kills me is the fact those I care about have had to sustain so much painful change, but we WILL get through it, together.

And even through the change nothing is permanently lost or dead. The impact on our lives made by a person or circumstance never leaves us. Even though that person is no longer in our lives physically does not mean they aren't there. The things they taught us about love and living are carried with us daily. The way I live and the way I love is my greatest memorial to BigBrother. I won't get to see his blue eyes while he tells me to, "Go! Have fun! Get your smile back!" Now I just close my eyes to hear his voice and picture him standing in the training room yelling those words of wisdom (yes, yelling) when I have doubts. Ha, I even hear him say, "My 'give a damn' is busted" when I start getting stressed about ridiculousness I don't need to be stressing about. I remember its ok to just let problems fix themselves. That's his legacy!

What happens when it's not a loss that changes you, but a situation? Something so completely out of your control and unforeseen that shakes everything you ever thought of yourself? What if that change can lead to something you previously thought impossible? And what if that ended up being a positive?

Change is not always negative. Sure, it feels like it at the time.

Change is just change. 

Change is different, it's HARD.

Going from losing a best friend, husband, father, and mentor is soul crushing. Finding a person who loves you and you love in return requires trust and work, but is amazingly rewarding.

Life has not been easy these past months, and it certainly isn't what I expected. There is much to tell; not here, not today. I would not be where I am today if not for January 10, 2013. The relationship forged from circumstances of that evening may be the grandest adventure of all. I wish every day I could talk to BigBrother about it. I have a feeling I know what he would say most days. I’d share, but it is nothing appropriate to print here, of course. I believe he would support me and want me to be happy. That's what he wanted for all of us.

In the end, I hope and pray the relationships built through the struggles sustain us. I will continue to be the same strong person who can make people laugh when they really don't want to. Be the support to get loved ones out of the house when what they would rather sit and cry.  I will force communication for my own understanding and ability to support. I will channel the voice so many of us long to hear just one more time.

Six months.

I didn't tell him how much he meant to me and how happy I was to have him back. I didn't say goodbye the night before, I had plenty of time to do that, right? How were any of us to know?? Never again will I make that assumption. I overuse the words "I love you" now more than ever. It is because of that day turning I know what it means to live those three words.

Six months.

The world has started turning again. Everything has changed. Nothing has been permanently lost. Our time together was too short, but we will all do everything in our power to keep you in our thoughts and live the life you taught us to live.