Ashlei

In my opinion, every great friendship between women/girls starts with someone saying, “I thought you were a bitch when I first met you!”  When I was just about to turn 16 years old, I met the chick that ultimately became one of my oldest and best friends.  We were inseparable through the remaining years of high school.  I often spent more time at her house than my own.  Her parents became my parents.  To this day, I still have the notes we passed between classes.  I have notebooks we swapped back and forth “chatting” about our days when we weren’t together.  We made plans.  We talked about our boyfriends.  We worked out our issues with the worlds we lived in, together.  Today, I went through one of those notebooks with a completely different perspective than ever before.

She was in the room when I welcomed my daughter.  She was at my side when I grieved my son.  She was a part of both of my weddings.  Late night conversations were abundant over the years, though the frequency changed as our lives became more involved.  No matter the distance or the time between us, our friendship remained constant.   There are very few life events I can recall without the presence of Ashlei Nicole Stroud.  Sorrow, joy, stress, relief, …  I had my Ash.

It is rare to find kindred spirits who remain in your life beyond a season.  When it happens to you, embrace and cherish the days this existence permits.  As cliché as the saying is, you never know when the journey is through.  My heart aches as I come to terms with the end of a rich and meaningful journey.  Numb is not a word that captures the true nature of my current status.  I feel everything right now.  I ache for her sweet family.  I ache for those who love her.  I ache for so many reasons that will only subside with time and acceptance.  The impact she made is eternal and evident. 

Ashlei’s compassion for the human condition is surpassed only by her propensity to love unconditionally.  Her heart gave in ways you could feel just by being around her.  Her affection for humor in its most inappropriate forms might be one of my favorite attributes of her rambunctious personality.  There are countless photographs I have of her simply with her finger up her nose.  Never an opportunity skipped to have someone pull her finger.  Too many times she hot boxed me in her car.  Even as grown adults.  In her has been the epitome of combining silliness and depth.  Meaningful and heartfelt conversations were never without a well-placed burp.  To know her was to know how to laugh while crying.

A piece of me is incomplete knowing I can’t call her right now.  There are long steps ahead for me to grieve this beautiful life I was blessed to have in mine.  This is hard.  It is hard because it means so much to lose.  I love you, Ashlei.  Hug your dad for me.  If you can find them, hug my angels, too.

Projection

Did you know what you were doing

When you watched me fall?

Did you know it then like I know it now

That you couldn’t give me your all

Did it hurt to hear my sobs in the night

As I slept at the edge of the bed

Did you even think to reach for my body

Instead of leaving me alone in my head

Was I some kind of vendetta

For your ego that I didn’t bruise

Or was I just something passive 

Change in your pocket to lose

Maybe I’m just projecting my own insecurity 

Trying to protect myself from my own truth

Maybe I’m more naive than I think

Looking for an excuse for trusting you 

What I can say without a shred of doubt

I loved you more deeply than I have ever before

I was all yours despite the red flags I ignored

But I wish what we had didn’t leave me on the floor 

I hope you love better next time you try

Put more of her before you

Maybe you’ve been my lesson 

You’re a test I don’t want to redo

What Do You Do?

During my college class days, I particularly loved my philosophy courses. The art of organized, thought provoking, articulation satisfies the depths of my being. Having such passion for words, engaging in a course of study specifically designed to broaden the answers to simple questions like; what do you do?, quite frankly, was nothing short of a spiritual experience. Being reared by an often painfully deep parent, thinking broadly wasn’t foreign. However, after I aced the classes, it revealed an entirely new range of that breadth. It birthed a perspective that ironically brought me closer to my dad. I understood the way he processed information. Reaching the treacherous summit of my dad’s perspective made me a different kind of student of the human condition. Considering all of this now in this context, I am recognizing that it’s this chapter of my growth that has directly supplied me the framework to come across as wise. Trust me, I’m just good with words. Wise? No. I am merely an attentive student. 

What do you do? The weight of four words is purely individual. Is your first answer to consider providing, related to your profession?  I would venture a guess that is exactly what you thought. Because for some reason what we “do” is identified as our job. The trigger for me with this question is my natural inclination to answer with an essay about who I am. Which I can see the very different intention of the question. What I do...is who I am. What I do is part of several pieces that equate to the sum of who I am. Therefore, I don’t want to answer the question so flippantly and indirectly shape a perception of who I am. 

Have I lost you, yet?

Stigmas. There are professions that automatically start a narrative about you.  If I were to tell you I flip burgers at McDonald’s, what is the split decision you make about that job? Now, what if I tell you I’m an attorney? We can’t help it. Over the past couple of years when I answer that question, I’ve gotten less specific. Instead of saying I’m an IT Services Division Chief, I say I organize chaos. Totally changes the instant stigma doesn’t it? Now the person asking has a choice. They can accept the answer and be comfortable making their own assumptions or ask a follow up question to have clarity provided. Just like that, a more meaningful dialog has potential. Even if it’s a five minute chat, the exchange could have more impact. 

Of course, there is a time and place this question and answer session should be utilized when brevity isn’t a factor. Meeting someone at work and establishing an occupational context of what I do wouldn’t exactly be an  appropriate time for me to wax philosophical. But, meeting someone for drinks that I would like to get to know...boom. Game on. I don’t want to immediately get lumped into a box of theories as to what makes me, me by saying I work in IT. God, truly, my job is very nerdy. Only fellow nerds want to hear about the details of my job. I talk to them...AT WORK. 

2019 ended with my babies cuddled with me on the couch. No drinking. No screaming. No hangover. As we counted down the clock, I realized it couldn’t have ended any more beautifully than it did. What I do, was staring me in the face with innocence and thrill. My two baby men, glowing with joy, exhibited the evidence of what I do. What I have done this past year has been the most monumental to date. I couldn’t be more proud of this world I’ve created. 

I learned a lot last year. Professionally, spiritually, mentally, and physically, 2019 inspired me. 

I fell in love with my kids. I dug a few feet deeper in my understanding of loving unconditionally. My daughter and I were tested and not only passed, but strengthened. My children have always been a way to trigger me.  The fears I have of failing them or losing them in any way manifested last year so profoundly that it landed me in the hospital. They aren’t my weakness, they are my power. What I do: I parent. 

I achieved goals. Physically, I am not just pleased with my work, I’m at peace with the vessel carrying around this giant brain and heart. Mentally, I earned another professional certification. I took on large responsibility at work that forced me to elevate. Professionally, I learned my resume is only an introduction to my capacities. I have been very fortunate to receive the opportunity to prove that. I was healthily mentored and trusted to mentor. What I do: I persevere. 

Spiritually I redefined. My serenity is a prized possession. I think the notion of calling myself “calm” is laughable. Having active anxiety and depression opposes true chill. But, there is absence of mania. There is structure to my depression and anxiety. My spirit and my emotional deficits have figured out how to be symbiotic. There’s a whole separate conversation I could engage on that dynamic. The most significant outcome of my own version of peace has been the ability to tap into song writing. Many of my song writing sessions have brought tears of joy to my eyes. 

What I do: I grow. 

The last decade has had death, divorce (twice), two cherished children, career, art, travel, family, ....life. Lots and lots of living. I can’t wait to see what happens next.