My "new boyfriend" is clearly my GUITAR. You all understood that, right??

Sssshhhh, I have a Secret Confession...

It is time for me to confess.

I have a boyfriend! Yes, it's true. I am finally admitting it after nearly three months of secret rendezvous and late nights together. He's fabulous --trustworthy, supportive, strong, dependable. He brings out the artist in me. Whenever I am near him, I feel like singing. We have spent hours together, yet each time I hold him I learn something new.

At first I thought it might be more of an obsession or infatuation than anything healthy because I would find myself thinking about him ALL day long. I can be out with friends for happy hour or dinner, enjoying relaxing conversation with great people, and my mind wonders to thoughts of him. I just want to get back to him.

I knew it was problematic the first time I thought about him at work. I didn't even want to work. I just wanted him in my arms, passing the hours caressing his strong neck. That is when I decided it was time to come clean. It is time to make the confession, time to let you all know that very soon I just may start sleeping with this new dream.

So I wanted to share a picture:

Isn't he lovely? Look at the finish! The picture makes me want to play right now, seriously, I stopped typing for a minute to go play a song. I am addicted to this instrument, and it is so much fun. It is challenging and frustrating and my fingers are killing me and I can no longer have long fingernails on my left hand, and it is no where near as easy as Santana makes it look, but it is my new favorite thing.

My family lost a special member last night.

We are no strangers to the cancer monster. My mother is a survivor, battling for the third time as I type. My father is a survivor. My maternal grandmother was a survivor. My paternal grandfather was a survivor. I lost a cousin too young (He was 16.) to this illness. The family tree is riddled with this ugly illness, running through the branches. It is indescribable to be "tired of it". One would think traveling the road once would make it easier a second time, or a third time, or a fourth time, but it doesn't it only pisses you off more. One would think having so many first hand experiences would help the grieving process the next time around. It doesn't. It is horrible and hard and feels unfair every time.

Fighting this illness changes a person. Watching a loved one fight this illness changes a person. Once a person is diagnosed, everything is different. And most of the time for most people, things being different is not ok. It is just different, and we have to find a way to survive it too.

Jason has been battling his illness with everything he is since March of 2007. He was a great cousin. We grew up in close proximity to each other. He was the same age as my brother, and his sister the same age as me. We spent many holidays and summer's days together while kids. He loved the outdoors and everything country--hunting, fishing, four-wheeling, animals. He worked hard. He had great jokes. He did excellent imitations of our uncles that made us all laugh around the bonfire. He was a great fishing partner for Sierra when she was small and learning how to bait her own hook and cast her own line.

Paula, Eden (Jason's niece), Jason--Summer 2007

He will be missed! No matter how you cut it. His absence will be difficult to get over for all who knew him. My rational mind is telling me, "He's with our Savior. He's no longer in pain. He's no longer needing to fight 24 hours a day." My heart is saying, "It's so damn unfair!" Thank God for faith. Thank God I believe he has gone to a better place, to watch over all who love him, to eternal salvation.

A quick Sunday night adventure. Me and my angel!!
Caique with control of the camera takes all the girls by surprise.
Sierra dancin with Caique.
Sierra dancin with Suzanne.

SMILE!!! Life is short.

I walked through the door this evening, returning from work, looked directly ahead through the open door and toward the veranda and this is what I saw...The sun beginning its evening descent.
Before my eyes, the sky changed colors.
The clouds swirled and spiraled.
The pinks began to dance across the ocean horizon.
And evening reared its head.