On friends and losing them

My bed, as of late, has become a type of hotel. In the past two months, five different people have shared it with me. And aside from my strange love of sharing beds, this has been delightful considering they have been some of my closest friends who have stopped by for a night.

The thing about getting older is, you realize why you like the people you like. Perhaps you become more particular? You start understanding the importance of surrounding yourself with people who inspire you – people who you want to be like. 

As you get older, your ability to form deeper relationships grows. You feel so fulfilled with these incredible people you get to associate with.

And then… they’re gone.

I mean, they don’t die and you don’t stop being friends, but life happens. They have to move on, move up, move forward. You do too, but it doesn’t usually take you in the same way.

I have gone through many phases of this with my friends. Sometimes it’s a new job that claims them. Sometimes, a move, or parenting, or life just gets busy. But nothing claims them as much as marriage.

This year, I will go through the deepest phase of this. My closest friends are moving on. It’s this bizarre-o mix of being deeply happy for them, and thrilled to have seen this miracle unroll, but silently mourning the loss your friendship has to take.

You’ll still be friends. You can still talk and hang out (after they re-surface in about a year), but never will the relationship be the same. It’s appropriate their loyalties shift, but it’s a little painful to think about what you once had that no longer is the same.

So all of these bed sharings, and quick drop bys? I’ll soak them in while I can. And then I’ll trust that I’ll enter into another good phase.

Salt Lake has found favor with me again

Last year I went through this weird phase where I was mad at Utah. The whole state. There were, I guess, reasons to go along with this, but they don't much matter or make sense. All that matters now, is that Utah and I have made up, and my love of Salt Lake has returned.

"A postcard from Kara!"

I love Salt Lake. It is full of some of my most favorite people. This past weekend I spent a weekend there and I couldn't stop thinking how happy it makes me to be around the 248 crew and my other Utah friends.

To be fair though, I think if I had eaten the delicious foods that I ate here in, say, North Dakota, I would have even been in love with life there. And that's saying a lot, because North Dakota is about #50 on my "States I would be willing to live in" list.

"I want a picture like Charlie's!"

The fright of the future

I've always been a planner.
It runs in my blood on both sides. We're the "planning every detail" family.

That's why these last semesters of college - though by far my favorite - have been the most stressful. The giant looming future is not getting any clearer the closer it comes.

It doesn't much matter when you first start college if you don't exactly know what you want to do as a career. Once you pass the hurdle of choosing a major it seems like smooth sailing. Along the way your friends find a passion and their niche in the field of study. They network. They get their internships. They decide they could do that for the rest of their lives.

For me, I've become less and less certain. So for my plan ahead personality, I've tried to ignore what's coming. I dread being asked what I want to do when I graduate, because not only do I not have I job (I'm not unique to most college students nearing graduation)... I don't even have a dream job in mind.

The honest answer is that if I could do whatever I wanted, I would do college all over again. I love college. In this stage of nearing graduation yet still living the college dream, my planning mind is trying to take a break and ignore the fact that in a year, even in six months I won't be here. I will no longer be a student, living with these girls, being by my family or being with the great friends that I have made the past six months.

Even though I know the future will work out and it will be great, for now I am trying to soak in the loveliness that is college life. These pictures are pieces of the awesome that is happening now.

The writing ache

Today I have my writing ache.

Do you know what I mean?
I don't know how to describe it. It's that feeling when there is too strong of an emotion to express verbally. Too strong even to really understand.

Right now it feels too strong to even be around people. Writing is often kind of a sacred time for me when it's motivated by the writing ache.

It's usually through writing that I learn about myself.
It's usually through writing that I remember just how beautiful the world is.

I feel grateful for spring.
Happy to be in Rexburg.
In love with the friends I've made.
Amazed at modern medicine.
Humbled by people's sacrifices.
Hopeful for my future.
Frightened to move on.
Anxious to see what job lies ahead.
Excited to keep learning.
Proud of myself for loving dating.
Thankful for great guys who have been interested.
Glad to know I can be interested back.
Ecstatic to have my sister move here.
Sad for little losses.
Healing over larger losses.
Worried about struggling friends.
Trusting that it will all work out in the end.

Some posts are just written for the sake of posting.
Other posts are written just for the sake of my soul. I think that's what the writing ache is all about.

When you can't say thank you enough

It's one of those memories that I will probably always remember. Part was that mom was crying - a pretty rare experience for my amazingly calm mama- another part was the shock and another part was the surprising calm that followed as soon as mom told me: Dad is in renal failure.

It was this past August. I was jabbering away to mom, sitting on her bed, and realized that she was only half following what I was saying. Our family had just all left from a long visit and I thought she was missing them.

"Are you sad?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Dad's sick. Really sick."

I didn't really know what to say as she explained how frighteningly low his hemoglobin count was, and the other unfamiliar side effects that come when your Kidneys decide to ditch out on their job. But I felt really peaceful. I felt like things would be okay. That was a pretty uncommon feeling for me at that point (the engagement ended just a month after that) and I was surprised to be feeling it.

Dad's first day of  dialysis

It's been a very interesting experience to see him go through this. Really humbling. He has always been so sturdy - I mean, yes, physically, but also in every other sense too. It was like it was the first time I realized my parents are mortal. 

But tomorrow my dad will get a new Kidney. 

He's been amazing to me. He's not a complainer. He's not lazy. Those are two really good attributes to have when you are really sick. 

And then there's my uncle Ron: the donator. I wanted to write a whole blog about how much this means to us all, but it just seemed so trite. There are some things that never enough gratitude could ever be shown for. 

So even though blogging about it seems so simple it's almost insulting: Thanks to Ron and to all those who would have been just as willing to make such a big sacrifice for my dad. I love you!

I'm a little obsessed with this picture. So cute.

Moving

This is my room. It has also been my kind of sanctuary the past four months.

Today I am moving on campus. I won't be the "local" anymore. Although I'm really excited for the experience, I'm surprised at how sad and scared I am. It's been 3 and a half years since I lived on campus/lived with five other girls.

That was never the plan.

When I originally moved back home, it was only going to be for one semester, because my cousin wanted me to live with her and my parents. Then one semester turned into two when I decided to save money to go on a mission and that turned into another 18 months as I left on my mission, another 7 months after I took a job at Deseret News, another semester as I decided to save money because I was engaged and another semester - this past semester - as plans changed and I just really needed my mom and dad. 

I love this little corner room with it's many windows. It represents a lot of me: traveling, too many clothes because I can't get rid of anything, a lot of books because I accumulate them, empty picture frames that are still waiting to be filled after taking out Stephen's pictures, cute niece & family pictures, DIY projects that almost turned out cute but not quite...

I'm only moving about a mile away and I've lived much further away from home before, so I'm not sure what makes this move any different, except that when I moved back home I was a very different person than I am now that I'm moving out.