“Your New Year might not always be January 1st.”

The US recognizes January 1 as the start of a new year. Most people take this time to reflect on things that happened throughout the previous year. Some of the thoughts are on the things they enjoyed, things they might do differently the upcoming year, memories of loved ones and friends that were lost during the previous year, and thankful to God to be alive. Often times, resolutions are made, and people are motivated and inspired on the promise of the upcoming year. 🥳🥳

As others, I celebrate January 1 as the beginning of a new calendar year, but it was February 27, 2018 that was the beginning of a new year for me (and hundreds of others). It was on this day that I began to start taking my health seriously. You might be wondering why February 27 and not January 1. February 27, 2018 was the day my cousin, Taylor, took her last breath on earth. Taylor was only 23 years old when she passed away because of a thyroid storm. It was a wakeup call to me and others who knew her to begin to take our thyroid/health issues seriously and to take our medicine each day. It was because of her death that I now live.

Taylor Denise McClain 09/20/1994-02/27/2018

I am not sure if you are aware of what thyroid glands are and what they do. Before my doctor was concerned about my glands growing, I had no clue what they were and what they do for the human body. The thyroid glands are located in the front of the throat and shaped like a butterfly. Some of the functions of the glands are the control of metabolism, release of certain hormones, and energy levels. Sometimes, things do not work as they should, and diseases are developed.http://www.myclevelandclinic.org.

This is one of my tattoos. The butterfly is the symbol often used for discussion about thyroids, and I had it done in pink, Taylor’s favorite color.

The two most common thyroid diseases are hyperthyroidism(Taylor’s diagnosis) and hypothyroidism (my diagnosis). Hyperthyroidism is when the body produces too much hormones. The heart beats faster than it should, weight loss occurs, and a person might experience nervousness. Hypothyroidism is when the body produces too little hormones. A person can gain weight even when he/she is not trying and might experience being cold all the time. Approximately, 10 millions Americans have these issues, and many may not even know. It commonly misdiagnosed http://www.endocrineweb.com.

I received my diagnosis in 2015. My doctor,Marcus Ueltshey, was concerned about my left gland constantly growing each time I’d see him. Due to the gland continuing to grow, my doctor and I decided it was best to have the gland removed . There would be a biopsy done to make sure there was no cancer. May 23, 2016, I went to have surgery at North Mississippi Medical Center. Dr Cauthen was the surgeon. He stated if the left gland was cancerous that I’d have to come back to have surgery again to remove the right one. He asked if I wanted to have both removed while I was under sedation. I agreed. On that day, I had a total thyrodectomy performed. Thankful to God that none were cancerous, but I was told by my doctor that I would have to take medicine for the rest of my life in order to regulate my levels. Taylor’s diagnosis was different. Tia, her mom, noticed Taylor’s eye bulging and wanted Taylor to get it seen about from her doctor. Taylor’s family doctor suspected thyroid issues and referred her to a specialist. Taylor had some health issues growing up. They assumed this would be another hurdle that Taylor would overcome. As any loving mother, Tia wanted to make sure everything was okay.

Taylor Denise McClain was born September 20, 1994. Tia said Taylor cried a lot as a baby. As she got older, her bubbly personality began to shine. It was only feasible that she would do something that would make bring a smile to others. In second grade, Taylor began cheering. She loved cheering with passion and joined a competitive cheer squad. As she got older, she would be a camp cheer coach to upcoming younger girls. She cheered from elementary, high school, and in college. Cheering was her life, and cheering gave her an outlet each time she overcome health obstacles that arose in her life.

In third grade, Taylor developed lymphedema. Lymphedema is the swelling of one or more extremities. It was only in one leg, but it caused her to wear a compression garment. Kids teased her, but Taylor did not let it stop her from doing what she loved. Taylor was not ashamed of the compression garment. When kids would stare, Tia told her to explain to them what it was. She let them know it didn’t make her any different from them.

Taylor and niece, Trinity

Sixth grade came, and Taylor had another health problem. She was diagnosed with scoliosis. Scoliosis is the abnormal curve of the spine. She had to wear a back brace for two years. You already know. Nope. It did not stop her from cheering. Even with severe back pain, Taylor endured the pain and cheered. It was her senior year of college when Taylor was diagnosed with hyperthyroidism. She’d overcome lymphedema and scoliosis. Surely, she would beat this too.

Tia began to notice that Taylor’s eyes were bulging. After seeing the family doctor, she was referred to a specialist. She was diagnosed with hyperthyroidism. The best way for him to describe it to her was to think of her heart beating over 100 miles an hour. The best way and most imperative way for her to overcome it was to take her medicine each day. If she takes her medicine, it would reduce the speed of the heartbeats. The specialist spoke the words that she never wanted to hear. He told her he wanted her to stop cheering for a moment because he wanted her body to get accustomed to the medicine in her body. When Taylor heard those words, she cried because something she loved was being taken away from her.

Later in the year, Taylor was’t feeling her best. She went to the doctor. When he ran the test, her thyroid levels were not as they should. He said Taylor. You have to take your medicine. Taylor thought the medicine was making her hair fall out. In actuality, it was the opposite. Since she wasn’t taking it, that was the reason she was experiencing the hair loss. Her hormone levels were not as they should be. Tia begged her to take her medicine each day. There was nothing that Tia could do but ask. Taylor was in another part of the state in college. Technically, she was considered an adult. All Tia could do and did do was pray that Taylor was following the doctor’s orders. Often times, Tia wonders if Taylor did not take the medicine as instructed because she feared it take away her capability of cheering.

Tia, TeNecia (sister), Taylor, Trinity (niece) and Dorian (brother)

February 24, 2018 would become the day Tia or any parent never wants to face. Taylor was home and should have been getting dressed for a cheer competition. Tia was preparing for work and noticed that Taylor was not getting dressed.Tia asked why she wasn’t. Taylor told her mom that she wasn’t feeling well. She said she told the cheer coach that she was gonna sit this one out. They assumed it was a winter cold and that all was well. Later that afternoon, Nick, Taylor’s fiancé, called Tia to inform her he was taking Taylor to the hospital. (Taylor and Nick were engaged on February 27, 2017. A year later, their lives would change.) Taylor was complaining about not being able to breathe. Tia told Nick that she’d meet them there. When Tia arrived, Taylor asked her to play gospel. She wanted something to ease her mind as the doctors ran several test to see what was going on.

Taylor and her fiancé, Nick

Taylor complained about being hot. Nick turned on the fan to attempt to cool her down. During the testing, things took a turn for the worst. Taylor’s body began to convulse, and she began to have seizures. Out of all the illnesses she’d endured, she had never had any seizures. Tia began to ask the doctors what was going on. Taylor was going in and out of consciousness. During one of the seizures, Taylor sat straight up. She made a confession to her mom. She said “Mom, I have not been taking my medicine.” Tia was in shock. She inquired as to how long it had been since she had gone without taking it. She told her mom that it has been a long time since she hadn’t taken it. Immediately, Taylor began to start having another seizure. Nick and Tia became frantic. Again, Taylor lost consciousness. She began to code blue. The doctors had them leave the room. Tia did not want to leave. She wanted answers to what was going on with her baby. Security came and asked her to please leave to allow the health team to do what they needed to do to save her. The only thing that keep replaying in Tia’s mind was the confession Taylor made. “Mom. I haven’t been taken my medicine. I don’t know. It’s been a long time.” Those words would be the last words Taylor spoke to her mother.

After a while, they were able to revive her, but they told Tia that the hospital did not have the necessary equipment to care for her, and she’d have to be transported to another hospital. Taylor was moved to another hospital approximately 15 minute away. When Taylor got to the the next hospital, she coded again. After reviving her, the doctors told Tia and Nick that Taylor’s heart was weak and would probably not live much longer. Despite the words of the doctor, Tia was praying and believing that Taylor would overcome this health issue as she had with everything else. Tia never left Taylor’s side. February 27, 2018 (exactly a year that Nick proposed), Taylor exhaled her last breath on this side of earth.

The definition of a cheerleader is a person that is enthusiastic or a verbal supporter of someone or something. Some characteristics of a cheerleader is someone that is hard working with good grades, patience, persistence, confidence, and physical strength. By the definition, Taylor was the ultimate example of a cheerleader.

I asked Tia what would she like to say about Taylor. She said even though Taylor was in pain and didn’t feel well. She never complained. She never brought it up. She wanted to make others happy. Regardless of us having a bad day or how we feel, we do not have to complain. We can keep pushing and keep going. She did not want Taylor’s death to be in vain. I can’t speak for other, but I can speak for myself. Taylor’s death will not be in vain. I, too, was one that did not take having to take my medication daily seriously. I would go days without taking it. I had been told the same thing as Taylor’s doctors told her. Carman, it is imperative that you take your medicine each day. After Taylor’s death, I am taking my medicine each day, and it is a priority.

Taylor Denise McClain was a loving fiancé, sister, daughter, niece, aunt, and student. In high school, she graduated the top 30% of her class. She was number 44 out of 300+ student in her high school. She was the life of the party. Even in grade school, her presence made an impact wherever she went. Tia didn’t know how much of an impact Taylor made on the lives of others. It wasn’t until the day of Taylor’s funeral that she realized how much of an impact Taylor had on the lives of classmates, teachers, friends, and family. On the day of her service, there were over 2500 people that came to show her respect. The pastor of the church said that he’d never had his church as full for a person that died so young. He said he could only imagine what it would have been if she’d lived longer.

High school senior night with aunt Tonya and mom,

Taylor, your death left a void here on earth, but you will forever be in our heart. We know you are looking down from heaven with your beautiful smile and cheering for us here on earth. We love you Taylor Denise McClain. May your soul Rest In Peace.

“I survived MY 2020”

December 31, 2019, I was sitting on my couch waiting in anticipation for the new year to begin. I don’t make resolutions, but I always vow to myself to grind a little harder and exceed my expectations from the year before. When the clock reached midnight, I yelled to myself Happy New Year. 🥳🥳 I was excited for what the new year would bring. I anticipated great things would happen, and it did. It brought some things that I welcomed with open arms, but it also brought heartache and pain that I wish I could rewind the clock back to December 31, 2019 and push pause forever.

This picture represents the excitement I had for the anticipation of the new year.

The year always begins celebrating my mother. Her birthday is January 9th. Celebrating birthdays are very important to me. I believe that each day we open our eyes is a blessing. If you know my mother, you know she is worthy of celebration. She is genuine and has a heart of gold. She will do what she can to help anyone in need and will do it without expecting anything in return.

Along came February. I experienced what would be my first heartache of the year. My brother, Maury, wanted my mom and I to get a new dog. It had been a few years since we’ve had one. June 2019, Maury brought this bushy white puppy to us. Immediately, I fell in love. We named him Patrick. Even though I’ve grown up with dogs and always had a love for them, he was my first fur baby. Every day, he would greet me at my truck when I pulled into the yard. We’d play in the yard for the longest time. He was always doing something silly or getting my mom upset because he was tearing things up. 🤣 When I was away from home, I was calling to check on him or to FaceTime to see him. I loved watching him grow.

Patrick only a few months old.

February 4 is a day I’ll never forget. I received a message from a neighbor. She said her mom saw what she believed to be Patrick lying on side of the road, and it appeared he was bleeding. I was at my part time and unable to leave. My heart was beating so fast. It seemed like the clock wasn’t moving fast enough. I needed to get home to see if it was my Patrick. Since I was at work, Tara said that she and her husband would go back to see if it was him. Sadly, it was. By the time they’d made it back, he’d crawled into the woods. Tara and Chris were so kind. They went into the dark woods to find exactly where he laid. Kindly, they left a marker by the entrance of the woods for me to find him when I got off work. By this time, he was weighing almost 70 pounds or more. I knew it would be difficult for me to pull him out alone. I called another neighbor to get assistance to help pull him out because I needed to take him to the vet. When I saw him, I was saddened. Patrick was bleeding and tangled in briar patch. Immediately, I ran to unravel him. His lower back and back legs were broken. We placed a tarp under his body to attempt to pull him out, but he would not allow us to move him. He was in pain. Each time we tried to move him, he’d attempt to bite my neighbor. My neighbor was afraid of being bitten. He said it was nothing he could do and went back to his home.

At this time, it was only Patrick and I in the woods. It was late, but didn’t want to leave him. It began to rain, and I had to leave. It rained extremely hard all night long. Normally, the rain puts me to sleep, but this time was different. All night, all I could think about was my baby in pain, in the rain, bleeding, and suffering all alone. The next morning, I went back into the woods to see if he’d let me move him. I was willing to do it all alone. I didn’t care if it took me all day long. He looked up at me. For a brief moment, there was happiness in his eyes when he saw me. I think to myself that he was thinking momma did not forget about me. The happiness was brief because he was almost lifeless. I talked to him and told him I loved him. He gave me his paw. My heart melted. My heart was broken. I was angry at whoever hit him. He was big dog. There was no way that he would not have been seen him. I made one of the hardest decisions ever in my life. I was criticized by some, but I hated to see him suffering. I left my house (I didn’t want to hear what was about to happen) and called my uncle. I had him to send him to dog heaven. 🥺🥺😭

Patrick NEVER let me take pictures alone. I just gave in. 😊 (May 14, 2019-February 5, 2020)

A few weeks later, things began to look up. I’d finished all courses and had a sufficient GPA to graduate from the University of Mississippi in August 2019. Unfortunately, I still had an outstanding balance. My diploma would not be mailed until the balance was paid in full. Two of my brothers, Juan and Jason, contributed towards the balance as a graduation present. I was thankful and appreciative for their help. Each month, I made payments until it was “0”. When I did, I received an email asking me to begin graduation process. You talk about excitement and overwhelmed with joy. It was a long time coming. The first person I went to see and tell was my grandmother. I told her I have some exciting news to share with you. She said what is it baby. I said it’s official. You are looking at graduate of the University of Mississippi. If you know me and my grandma, you know we were in the room balling our eyes out. She said I’m so proud of you Carman. I knew you could do it. You stuck it out and hung in there. We cried a little more. I was happy that I’d made her proud.

Little did I know, this visit would be close to the last one inside. The week of March 13, the world changed. The world experienced a pandemic. It would be called Covid-19 or the coronavirus. It was highly contagious and deadly. Health officials didn’t know how to combat it. It was something that not even my parents had experienced in their lifetime.

The entire world was shut down. Schools were closed. Students finished the semester virtually. My oldest daughter, Destinee, was graduating from the University of Mississippi in May. We were excited about her completing her undergraduate and becoming a teacher. Graduation were cancelled because CDC did not allow large gatherings. The graduation would later be done virtually. That was only one of the moments that was taken from us. Since large gatherings were banned, our family gatherings were banned. My parents have eight children, nineteen grandchildren, and in-laws. This meant there would be no Long sumner vacation for 2020. All sporting events were canceled. No games were played (from pee wee to professional). Restaurants closed, and some never reopened. Traveling was put on hold. No one was allowed to enter hospitals or nursing home unless you were an employee, patient, or resident. Funerals were graveside. Church service were moved to online. Gyms were closed. There would no concerts. CDC advised states to mandate the residents wear mask and practice social distancing by staying at least 6 feet apart from the next person. I’m a hugger. This was hard and still hard for me. Any business that wasn’t considered “essential” was closed. The world was not and will not ever be the same.

Many jobs that physically closed had employees work from home if it was possible. I am employed at a bank and part time at a gas station. Both jobs were considered “essential” and never closed. A lot of people assume that banking is easy because we are inside a building, sitting in an office, or behind teller row. Studies show if you work in the financial industry that you are in one of the highest mentally stressful jobs. Add a pandemic on top of that. It’s even more stressful. A lot of people assumed the world was ending or that it would be another Great Depression. People were calling or coming in concerned about their accounts. We were taking customers by appointments only. Each day, my calendar remained full. It was hectic. The gas station was just as busy. Many people were laid off and were home. They drank and smoke more. Beer and tobacco sales increased meaning that I was constantly busy there too.

I am not complaining. I am thankful for jobs that supplies for me and my children needs. When the pandemic began, I was not physically able to see them. Not being able to see my children nor hug my grandmother at nursing home was the most depressing thing for me. If anyone knows me, you know that my family is everything it me. I was able to call and FaceTime my children and call my grandma. If we visited, we had to go around the back of the building where her room was and talk through the window. I was grateful for the calls and window visits to each, but those are not the same as physical seeing them or being able to put my around them. That was all I wanted to do, but the coronavirus stopped it all. My heart was aching. My weekly lunches with my son had stopped. My Saturday visits with my grandma were gone. Her health was declining. Eventually, she stopped answering calls. 😭😭 Mentally, I was crying inside, but I was smiling outside. I was a zombie. I was going through the motions and monotony of life just to make it through the day.

I had a moment earlier today and cried. I didn’t know that I had dried tears still on the left side my face from crying this morning. Outside, I was happy. This picture is a depiction of how I was going through life. Smiling yet hurting.

It was a few months before I was able to see my children in person. For me, it was like giving birth again. When you’re in delivery, you are excited about being able to finally see your child’s face for the first time. Just as I did each time I gave birth and saw their face, I cried. My heart was happy. It gave me strength to keep going. It was the push I needed.

Sadly, the next time I was able to hug my grandmother was at the hospital. I mentioned her health declining. In June, the nursing home called my aunts, uncles, and father. My grandmother was at the point of death. They had to decide if they would leave her at the nursing home or transfer her to the hospice floor at the hospital. If she remained at the nursing home, all we’d be able to do was look at her through the window from outside. Nursing home still were not allowing visitors to enter in. The decision was made to transfer her to the hospital. With her being at the hospital, we were able to visit and spend the night with her. I was finally able to physical hug her. Our family took turns spending the night. I had the privilege of being assigned two nights. Regardless of the night assignment, I was going to visit each day after work. Each day, her health was declining, and it hurt to see her lying in bed not being her jovial self.

When I would visit her each week, I had a ritual as I prepared to leave until the next visit.I’d say El (Her name is Elnora). I’m about to go. Don’t be in here trying to catch a man. She’d laughed and say stop that gal. You know the only man I need is Jesus. I’d say yes ma’am. I know. I’d bend down to hug her, kiss her, tell her I loved her, and to be sweet. Her response would always be” we love you too.” I would be so tickled at her saying we love you too because it was only her. My grandfather had been deceased since 1997. I never corrected her. I let her say what she wanted. She’d continue the goodbyes saying Carman come me when you have time. Baby. Grandma know you’re busy with those jobs and those kids. I’d say yes ma’am, but you know I’ll be back next week. Even though she was in the hospital, our ritual was still the same. The only difference was I said I’ll see you tomorrow instead of next week. I’ll never forget her last words to me. I said and did my usual ritual. This time there was no laugher behind my comment. Softly and the last thing she ever spoke to me was this. “You look pretty. Grandma loves you too.” 😭😭 I’ll never forget that moment. She never spoke to me again. Instead, she was in the bed moaning in pain. I would rub her arms and head. I’d talk to her hours. I felt in my heart she was listening. June 29, my grandma exhaled her last breath and went to be with Jesus. Knowing that she loved me and was in heaven was the only thing that gave me peace. 😭😭😭 I was breaking inside.

Elnora Townsend Long (October 18,1929-June 29, 2020)

In the midst of the pandemic, more chaos was still happening in the United States. There were police shooting and senseless murders from citizens on minorities. I’m sure you’ve heard of Breanna Taylor, George Floyd, and Ahmaud Arbery, but what about Carlos Carson or Jonathan Price? I had several Caucasian friends that reached out to me. They apologized for the senseless murders. We were supposed to meet and discuss on how to make the world a better place. Unfortunately, the meetings never happened. I know each person that reached out had good intentions. For them, life went on. For me, it couldn’t. I birthed three African American children. I used to worry only for my son. Now, I have to worry about my daughters getting murdered as well. Therefore, it is an issue that I can’t ever forget and just move on with life. Every day and every night, I pray that my children return back safely to their beds each night and open their eyes to see another day.

Life became overwhelming. I was as the point of a meltdown. I was not mentally stable. I was putting on the smile, but I was grieving. I’d lost both grandmothers exactly two weeks apart. Muh and I weren’t related by blood, but I loved her just the same. This year, I’d lost two aunts and an uncle, and people I’ve known for years( In December, I lost a cousin from Covid), I was stressed with both jobs. I was stressed because of how Covid changed the world and how it was affecting the changes in my life. Everything that had given me peace was paused temporarily or stopped (no gym, no movies, no concerts, no family trips, limited time with my kids). I was unable to sleep. Many nights, I cried myself to sleep.

My grandmothers 💛💛💛 that are now residing with Jesus

Let me rewind the clock for a moment. I have struggled with my weight for years. I gained a lot of weight after my divorce. A few years after that, my thyroids were removed as a health precaution. I don’t know if you know, but thyroids help regulate the body’s metabolism. Therefore, losing any weight is more difficult for me. In previous years, I’d say I wanted to lose weight, but I didn’t remain committed. Around October 2019, I’d taken charge of my health and was dedicated. Faithfully, I was going to the gym between three to five times a week. I began cooking for my mother and I. Cooking used to be my least favorite thing to do. I began to enjoy it and trying new recipes. I was seeing a doctor regarding my obesity. I was seeing a nutritionist to help me with healthy options. The deaths of Patrick, loved ones, and friends and all the other stress of life halted me. The gym reopened in June, but I’d lost my drive to go. Also, I no longer cooked either. I went to see my therapist. She said Carman. You’re depressed. You’re grieving. You’re hurt. You’ve gone through a lot. On top of those things, I had to hire a lawyer for some personal things. Here, I was thinking that I was just sad. In actuality, I was clinically depressed. I was going through a lot. She advised me to put me first and to take a step back from everything. She told me to take time off of work from both jobs and suggested I start taking anti-depression medicine. She said you know it’s not a sin. We laughed. I said I know. I’ve seen her for eight years. She’s helped me deal with a divorce, break ups, work issues (anything you can name) This was the first time that she’s ever advised me to take off work for a few weeks and to take medicine. I took her advice on both. I took off work for four weeks, and I saw a doctor that prescribed me antidepressants. I began taking them.

2020 was not all bad. I had a lot of bumps in the road, but I a had a lot of highs. I joined a new church in January, The Sycamore. I received my diploma from the University of Mississippi. I had some amazing photo shoots. I utilized the gifts that God gave me( blogging, doing professional photography, and creating my website. www.lovingallofcarman.com). I wrote about it in a previous blog if you missed it. If so, I’d love for you to go back and read it.

2020 took a lot out of me, but it still provided great blessings. I learned that it is ok to take a mental break and put myself first. 2021 is only two days away. I know that it will also have ups and down. I know through it all that I will survive. I will enjoy life and make the best out of every situation and opportunity. I look forward to celebrating and the anticipation of 2021 it as I did 2020. The only difference is that I won’t be on the couch this year. I’ll be bringing in the new year in another country. ☺️☺️☺️. With alllll of this being said, Happy New Year everyone. May God continue to bless us all. Let’s walk into the new year (2021) with great expectations and no extra baggage!!!!!!🥳🥳🥳

“I am thankful for my passion”

It’s Thanksgiving 2020. Thanksgiving is a day where we take time to reflect on what we are thankful. Some, if asked, will say good health, spending time with family, thankful for their children, and maybe their job. If you ask me, I would definitely agree with all these things. All those things are important to me as well. For this Thanksgiving, I am thankful for a few different things. I am thankful for my passions.

The definition of passion is an intense desire or enthusiasm. I’d even add, for me, passion is something that you would not mind doing even if you were paid or not because it brings you joy. It puts a smile on your face, and it brings you peace. This year, I began to focus on my passions and what brings me happiness.

I do not believe there are many people that would not say that 2020 has been an intense, interesting, or difficult year. It has been very trying for me. I never would have imagined that the entire world would be affected by one virus. There were deaths, massive layoffs and company closures. Ones that I’d never in my life imagined would ever close. It showed me that nothing is guaranteed. This was very eye opening for me.

I began to pray. During my prayer, God spoke to me. He said that He’d given me gifts that I should be using, and that I should be using what He’s given me. Honestly, I was fearful and afraid to step out and do it. I told God that I couldn’t. Each night that I resisted was a night of restless sleep. Finally, I told God that I would obey. I told Him that I would use what He’s given me.

I’ve always been passionate about writing. When I was younger, I would write poems. That was my first introduction of writing. In my teenage years, I wrote in a diary about my day and things that were going on in my life. As I got older, I would journal and write letters to God when I felt I couldn’t speak the things in my heart out loud.

One of my cousins, Chasity, encouraged me for years to blog. She said Carman. You have a story. You could help so many people. I never thought I would do it. I put it off for years. When I finally accepted my gift from God, I decided that I would write and started my blog. I created my website http://www.lovingallofcarman.com. The crazy and awesome thing is that God even gave me the topics to write about for my first six months after I submitted to Him. Writing is one of my outlets and therapeutic for me.

Whether you know me personally or we are friends on a social media, you know I ABSOLUTELY love pictures. I do not care where I am I feel that there is a moment that needs to be captured. Therefore, I am always snapping pictures(because I don’t take just one). You can say I’m the family or event photographer. ☺️

During my many conversations with God, my love for photography was the second thing He mentioned. I tried to talk myself and God out of it too. He wasn’t trying to hear it. ☺️ I said Tupelo is small. There are enough photographers here. The city doesn’t need anymore. God made me realize what I have is unique, and each person’s gift is unique. I can’t compare what I do to the next person. I need to focus on Carman and develop her. I was talking to my oldest brother, Juan, and mentioning my hesitation. Something he said to me was very profound. He asked me if I wanted God to take my gifts away. I knew I didn’t want it to happen. After much prayer (many sleepless nights), I told God that I would be obedient and do it.

Focusing on me is exactly what I did. I created my website for my blog, Loving all of Carman: mind, heart, body, and soul. I purchased a professional camera and began to accept clients. I created a business Facebook page for my photos that I’ve taken, Daffodil Photography. I would absolutely love to take pictures of you, your family, or a special event. I purchased a new computer to help me with everything. I invested in myself. My prayer is that God touches my mind to always write something that can help at least one person. I pray that God blessed my hands and my eyes when I am taking pictures. I pray my pictures captures moments that my clients will never forget. I pray that God allows me to be successful in the things that I do for my faith and trust is in Him.

Writing/blogging are my passions and my gifts. Whether you know it or not, you have a gift too. You might be saying I don’t have anything special. I can’t do anything. That is not true. According to James 1:17, every good and perfect gift comes from above. God has placed greatness inside of each of us. It is up to accept what He has given. I knew the things that God has placed inside of me. I was hesitant to put them to use. I am glad and thankful on this day that I was obedient to His will. I want you to seek deep inside and think of what is inside of you. As long as you have breath in your body, it is never too late to ever start, and it’s never too late to discover your passion.

“Breast cancer did not get the best of me”

This is the last week in this month of October. Therefore, it is the last week of breast cancer awareness month. If you’ve been following my blog, I’ve provided statistics and vital information for breast cancer. You learned how to detect it and things that could possibly help to reduce the chances of getting it. One week, I had the pleasure of interviewing my seven siblings and gave their perspective along with mine on how it was as a child to witness a parent go through the breast cancer process. For this last week, I wanted to dedicate it to my mother. My mom is a 15 year survivor of breast cancer. There was no better person than her to interview to end this breast cancer series.

My mother’s name is Zell Long. She is one that admired by many, and I count it a blessing for her to be to be the one God gave me as a mother. She has eight living children (miscarried one). If you know my mother, you know she is a woman of faith. She is a woman that can get a pray through to God. One my fraternal uncles jokingly calls her Jesus’s sister. He said if you ever need to get in touch with God all you have to do is call Zell. My siblings and I often joke about when we were sick growing up. Where as most kids get sick and miss school, it didn’t happen that way for you. Not JB and Homerzell’s kids!!!! If one of us woke up not feeling well, we’d go into our parents room and let them know. Of course, we’d hope that we’d be able to miss school and stay at Muh’s house for the entire day. No such luck!!!! Our mother would have us to get her bottle of prayer oil. She’d lay her hands on our heads and ask God to heal us. Within a matter of minutes, God would touch bodies, our sickness would be gone, and we’d be getting dressed for school. Such a bummer for kids that wanted to miss. It was a blessing for her. This same faith, her prayer, and her strength in God is what helped mom as she battled breast cancer.

My mother was born January 9, 1952. My mother is the baby of eighteen children. There were nine girls and nine boys born from Marsie and Gillie Jones. Out of the nine girls, three at the time had been diagnosed with breast cancer. (As of 2020, the last five girls born of Marsie and Gillie were diagnosed with breast cancer. One of my aunts succumbed to breast cancer in April of this year.) Considering her family’s history, my mom was always faithful in getting her yearly mammograms. I asked her did she ever think she would have breast cancer. She said it was always a possibility in the back of her mind that she might later end up getting it. The reason being was this. When she had mammograms, she would often have to go back because there would be an abnormality or irregularity on the mammogram. She’d have to go back to get a second mammogram. With all the irregular mammograms, the actual time of hearing the news of you have breast cancer wasn’t a surprise. Of course, it was not something she wanted, but the potential of having it was always there.

It was not a monthly self breast examination on how my mom discovered, but it was through the mammogram that the breast cancer was discovered. My mom could not remember the exact month she was diagnosed. She said it was somewhere between October-December 2005. This is why it is very important for women to get their annual mammogram and do the monthly breast self examinations. At the age of 40, doctors suggest this to be the age for women to start having yearly mammograms http://www.cancer.org. If you have a family history of breast cancer, you should speak to your doctor. You might be eligible to have one sooner. My first mammogram was at the age of 35 (due to my family’s history).

After the mammogram, mom’s faith kicked in. She said she told God that she has to believe Him. The mammogram and biopsy were showing different things. She said the mammogram showed the thickening in the one spot. Remember for her, this was not unusual, but biopsy showed positive for cancer and malignant. The decision had to be made to have the mastectomy (having the cancerous breast removed). She was fine having the mastectomy because it meant that the cancer would be removed from her body.

Going from it being a possibility to actually having breast cancer, mom had several thoughts running through her mind. What is going to happen next? Would it be a death sentence? Would this be the way my life ends, from cancer? God, I’m believing You for a miracle, but are You going to heal me on earth? If I die, what is going to happen to my children? If I have the mastectomy, what would my spouse at the time think of me because I’ll only have one breast?

Radiation or chemotherapy was never an option for her. The only option was having the mastectomy to remove the cancer. Mom did not have reconstructive breast surgery (to replace the breast that was removed). I have always wondered why she didn’t. She laughed, and she said she would never forget it. She said Dr. Buddy Williams said, “Zell, I can’t perform a reconstruction surgery. Your breast are too large, and I can’t make it the same size as the other.” I inquired and asked why didn’t she go smaller. Mom said it was not worth it. She said that it would require plastic surgery, and she did not want to endure having to go through surgery again. With the mastectomy, it was enough. She was very thankful the cancer did not spread by going into her glands and lymph nodes. Therefore, she was not worried about reconstruction. Instead, she would focus on her recovery by emptying the drainage tubes, enduring the pain, and allowing her body to heal. All of it was an indication of her body getting better.

I asked mom what were her thoughts after reading last week’s article from the view of her eight children while she went through her healing. Mom stated that she wasn’t aware how each of us felt, and it was an eye opener for her. She didn’t realize how it affected all eight of us differently. She personally told the oldest three (Juan, myself, and Jason) and thought that by our reactions that it would be easier to tell the younger ones. She allowed our father to tell the other five younger siblings. She wishes that she sat down with each us individually or gathered all eight of us at once to talk about it.

Lastly, I asked mom what advice would she give to a woman or man that might be dealing with breast cancer at this very moment. She said that having breast cancer changed her perspective on life. It made her realize her vulnerability. Here are her suggestions to the ones that might be dealing with it today. 1. Live life to the fullest every day. 2. Don’t have any regrets. Do what you want to do. 3. Don’t live a life of I wish I woulda, coulda, or shoulda because when you are dealing with cancer, there is no certainty. 4. Take it day by day. Some days, you’ll feel good. Some days, you won’t. Put your foot in front of the other. 5. Lastly, Have faith and pray.

“It’s ok to be a cheetah in the midst of snow leopards”

Today, I am honoring my grandmother. October 18th is her birthday. She would have been 91 years old. I wish we were together celebrating instead of me writing in remembrance of her. As long as I live, I promise to never let her name and legacy fade from my mind. I will always honor her and do my best to do things that would make her proud.

For those that do not know, my grandmother’s name is Elnora Townsend Long. She is my fraternal grandmother. My grandmother was one of the sweetest ladies you’d ever meet. She had the best personality, and she never met a stranger. 😊 She would talk and talk if you got her on the phone or if you went by to visit. My grandmother was nurturing. She always made sure you were fed if you came to see her. My grandmother was loving. She always made you felt welcome in her presence. She loved her family and loved being surrounded by my late grandfather, her children, grandchildren, and friends. My mom often calls me lil Elnora. She says I never meet a stranger and love to talk. I count it a privilege to have characteristics similar to my grandmother. Our characteristics make us who we are. We should never be ashamed of how we are programmed. My grandmother was never ashamed of who she was or ashamed of her walk with Christ.

The last years of her life, grandma lived in Reed house in the Traceway retirement home. When I’d go visit, she’d tell me what she’d told her housemates that week as they sat around the dinner table. She’d preach to them about something they’d done or said that she felt was wrong. I’d laugh. I’d say grandma. You can’t tell those people that. Quickly, she’d correct me. Baby, the Bible says….. She’d proceed to tell me what the Bible said. If you didn’t want to hear the truth or hear the word of God, you’d better not be around her. If you were near, she was gonna let you know.

I need to digress for a moment. This is a off topic, but it has a point in the end. In 2012, Tupelo had a tornado that devastated the city. BancorpSouth took part in the cleanup efforts. I’d asked my children to come assist. When they arrived, I introduced them to some people in upper management. I was my loud, typical self. The next day, my boss, at the time, came to me and said my cleanup efforts were no longer needed. Someone told my boss to tell me I was loud the day before (when I’d the introduction) and was an embarrassment to the bank. I told my boss that I was still going to come but would be reserved. Later that day, one of the upper management executive pulled me to the side. He asked what was wrong because I was not my normal self. I let him know what was said. He informed me I was not an embarrassment. If he had a problem with me, he’d let me know himself. He said it’s ok that my energy level is some days a 10, and theirs were a 5/6. Some days he was a 12, but it makes us who we are.

I’ve come to the realization that not everyone will like me. Every house mate my grandma had probably didn’t always like her. When they got tired of hearing her preach, they’d go to their room. It didn’t stop her from being who she was. It didn’t matter if they didn’t like it. She was not going to stop being Elnora. I know if my grandmother was still alive today that she’d still be doing everything she loved. She would still be true to herself, and she’d still be preaching to her housemates. She’d still make a call to tell you hello. She’d still ask how’s how’s those kids of yours doing. She’d still be whispering trying to tell me something she didn’t have any business telling me. She’d still be sitting in her wheelchair looking gorgeous with her jewelry on her neck, fingers, and wrist. She’d still be everything God ordained her to be.

My grandmother was special and unique in her own way. I absolutely loved that about her. I urge each of you to love yourselves and be true to what makes you you. It’s ok if you’re quiet or shy. It’s ok if you’re skinny or one with curves. It’s ok if you’re short or tall. It’s ok if you love spreading the gospel of Christ. It’s ok if you’re loud, like me, when you enter a room. Embrace who you are and live in it. It’s what makes you unique and special. Don’t ever be ashamed of who you are. It’s ok to be the cheetah in the room of snow leopards. ☺️

Have you ever thought about breast cancer from the view of a child?

October is breast cancer awareness month. Last week, I wrote about becoming aware of your body. The more you know your body; the better you will be at determining when something irregular has tried to invade in. I listed different statistics on breast cancer (deaths, diagnosis, survival rates). I provided the link on how a person can learn to do monthly breast examinations. We learned that breast cancer is not only an issue for women. Men can be diagnosed as well.

With all that being said, most people wonder about the effects of cancer of the person that is diagnosed. My mom doesn’t remember exactly what month she was diagnosed. It was either October or November 2005. This week, I’m not focusing on her. Instead, I wanted to take a different twist. I wanted to write from the view of breast cancer from the perspective of the child and how it affects them.

My parents have eight children. Even as of this day, this is something that we have never sat and collectively spoken about our feelings on how we felt when our mother was diagnosed with breast cancer. I enjoyed calling them, interviewing them, and hearing their views about our mom as she went through her healing process. I asked all of my siblings the same questions. Although, all had the same questions, every answer was different. I wasn’t surprised because we all have different personalities. Here are the questions that each was asked and answered. 1. Do you remember our parents telling us that mom had cancer? 2. How did you feel when you received the news? 3. Were you worried that she would not survive? 4. When you heard she was not having reconstructive surgery after her mastectomy, how did that make you feel? 5. Is there any advice you would like to give to a child that might be going through the same thing with his/her parent?

I’ll go in the order that we were born. The oldest of the eight is Juan. He was at home in Florida. He said that he heard other stories of people having breast cancer, but he never thought it would hit his home. Immediately, his first thought was death. He was worried if our mother would survive and pull through. He knew of women that had survived, and those that did not. Juan was scared for her. She is the matriarch, the glue of the family, and he did not want to think about her not being around. He was upset with life and questioned God. He said that is wasn’t fair. He said his mom is the nicest person on Earth. She would give someone that last. Why her? Why did she have to receive cancer? As time went on, he began to feel better. He cried, prayed, and leaned on his wife for support. He would talk to mom, and she would encourage him. I laughed and smiled when he told me this. Juan is such a momma’s boy. I could imagine him calling her crying and being worried. Here she is dealing with breast cancer and all the things that come along with it, but she never stopped being a mother. She took the time to comfort her son when he was concerned about her. As far as the reconstructive surgery, he worried if she would feel whole and still feel pretty since she did not do the surgery. He was concerned, but he never was brave enough to ask her about it. Lastly, he said it is very tough, but it important not to treat the person as a victim. Love and support your loved ones.

I am the second born child. I remember the moment that my parents called me. At the time, I was still married. I was in my bedroom, and I began to cry on the phone. My ex husband asked what was wrong because I couldn’t stop crying even after I hung up the call. I told him that my parents had just informed me that my mom had breast cancer. She was going to have surgery in a few weeks to remove the breast with the cancer. I was afraid that my mom would die. I was worried that I might develop breast cancer. I went and had the genetic testing done. My test came back negative. I was not a carrier of the trait. I remember the day my mom had surgery. All of my brothers lived out of state. Jenci, Shayla, my dad, and myself were at the hospital. I remember waiting for hours until the surgery was over. I remember looking out of the window crying and my mind wreaking havoc. It seemed like it was the longest day of my life. I remember her having a drainage bag on the spot where the breast was and having to empty it every few hours. I remember her being in pain for long periods of time. I was thankful that she did not have to go through chemo or radiation, but her having her breast and lymph nodes removed was still painful to see her go through. As Juan, I never asked her why she chose not to have reconstructive surgery. I was just thinking if it were me that I would want me a new pair of breast. In her mind, she might not have wanted to go through another surgery. As a family, we did not come together and speak about it at one time. I would recommend children to speak to the parent that is diagnosed to see how he/she feels. I think it is important to understand any concerns that might need to be address.

Jason said that mom might not know when she was diagnosed, but he knows exactly when we were told. He said it was December 2005, and he was about to go on stage for his church’s Christmas program. He had to take a moment to prepare himself before going on stage to perform. Jason said he was quite shocked when receiving the news. He said that it wasn’t something that he had time to prepare for. There was no previous conversation that lead to that day such as your mom thinks she might have breast cancer. She is going to get some test done to see what is going on. On this day, it was BAM and in his face. Instead, it was your mom has been diagnosed with breast cancer, and she has to have surgery. Jason said he started his day with expectations of going about it being a normal day, but his day took a turn for the worse. He did feel that mom should have had the reconstructive surgery. He feels that it could have been rectified with surgery, but he said at the end of the day it was her choice. He would always support her decision whether he agreed with it or not. Jason’s advice is to have serious talks with your children and spouse about your family’s health history. A person should not wait until bad news is received to discuss these things. That way, no one is blindsided when health scares comes along, and a person can take preventive measures to help himself/herself. Lastly, whatever choice a person decides for their health is their choice, and the person has to deal with the deal he/she has made.

If you know Maury, he is the most nonchalant of the eight children. Vaguely, he remembered the moment. He said said he was not concerned nor did he have a fear of her dying. He never felt that her life was in danger. In his mind, she was going to be alright. He did not care about her not having reconstructive surgery after the mastectomy. He was glad she was alive. His suggestion is to enjoy the moments with the love one, do not add any extra stress to the person, support the person, and strengthen them.

For Josh, it was a feeling of helplessness. He was living in Florida. He wanted to be home in Mississippi to be with mom. He wanted to know what he could do to fix it or to help her. When we were younger, our mother had a miscarriage. She lost a lot of blood and had to resuscitated. When Josh received the dreaded call, it was a traumatic moment for him. His mind went back to that day of her having the miscarriage. He wondered would cancer be the thing that takes her out. He prayed and told God that cancer is like a common cold to Him. He prayed and asked God to please heal his mom. As far as the reconstructive surgery, he was worried about her mental health. Would she look in the mirror and still think she was beautiful? He told her to do what is best for her. If removing the breast will help her have longevity, he told her to remove it and proudly wear her prosthesis. His advice is that it is ok to feel every emotion. It doesn’t matter if it’s anger, sadness, frustration, or even despair. He would suggest seeking out professional help and talk to someone about how you feel about a parent having cancer.

Shayla was in college when she received the call. She was heartbroken, scared, concerned, and worried. Mom was the first person that she knew that had breast cancer. Mom is Superwoman in her eyes. How could Superwoman become sick? She was worried about her passing away because of the things she’s read about breast cancer. She was worried about what her outcome might be. She didn’t want people to look at mom differently for having one breast because she did not have the reconstructive surgery. Shayla’s suggestion to any child is to make sure you do not take it for granted. Self awareness is important. Breast cancer is real. Learn all the information you can and do all the things you need to do.

Jenci’s recollection was that we did not have a long tedious time to prepare ourselves. When we were told, mom was already diagnosed and knew what was going on. She was in college. Her initial reaction was concern for mom’s wellbeing. Even though she was in college, she did not personally know much about breast cancer. She did not want to see her go through what society had portrayed on television. With mom being a woman of faith, she had a community of people praying and believing for a healing. Jenci said that witnessing mom’s faith being strengthened helped strengthen her faith. She didn’t care about her not having reconstructive surgery. She knew momma had to have the breast remove in order to reduce the chances of the cancer coming back. She wanted to make sure that mom self-esteem was ok. Her advice is to support both parents. Let them know you are their. Their journey is individual, but they need to know they are not alone. Lastly, ask questions. Be aware of your family history, and love can conquer anything.

With all the interviews, I, personally, feel that Zierra’s recollection was the most traumatic. When I asked Zierra the question about how she remembered being told, she stated that she was never actually told. She did not know of momma having breast cancer. She did not know momma had a mastectomy. She discovered momma had a mastectomy when she stumbled upon momma undressing in the bathroom one morning. The 10 year old child began to cry and wonder what happened. After mom was able to get Zierra to calm down, momma explained to her what happened. She informed her she had breast cancer. The only way to save herself and to continue to live was by removing the infected area. Zierra said she feared the worst. She said momma withheld the information of her having breast cancer. In her mind, she wondered what other information she might be keeping from here. She felt on edge, but mom reassured her that she would be ok. Her advice is to prepare for the worst but pray for the best. We can not control the situations. God is in control. Everything happens for a reason. We should go with the flow of life. Accept the things that we can change. Do not allow temporary emotions affect the time of your life ahead.

To sum it up, my suggestion is to talk to your children. It does not matter how hold your children might be. Let them know what is going on. As you read, we were all different ages with different things going on in our lives. Yet, each child was affected differently. Do not wait until the last minute to discuss the treatment plan. You might think your child can not handle it. It is better to know something than being dropped with a bombshell. Do not wait to discuss your family’s history with certain illnesses. As said I said last week and will say it again, the more you know about your body and health; the better you will be. Lastly, my suggestion is to continue to love one another and be a support throughout the entire process. Be blessed and in good health.

When is the last time you checked your breast?

The month of October is recognized as breast cancer awareness month. I’m sure many of you are like me. You, personally, know someone who is a survivor of breast cancer or who has succumbed to breast cancer. For me, the evils of breast cancer has touched my mom and aunts. Some are survivors, and sadly, I’ve lost loved ones to this disease. This month, I dedicate my blog to all those who are currently undergoing treatment, those who are survivors and those who have left us here on earth.

Breast cancer is not a disease that only affects women. Men can be diagnosed as well. According to http://www.cancer.net, there will be 325,010 women and 2,620 men diagnosed in 2020. There is an estimation of 42,690 deaths (women and men). After lung cancer, breast cancer is the largest cause of death of women. This is why early detection is important.

Each month, women are advised to do monthly breast examinations to detect any abnormalities. The suggested time is a few days after her monthly menstruation begins. If you aren’t sure how you should perform your breast examinations, go to http://www.spottingcancer.org. The website provides step by step instructions on how to do the breast examinations. The reason the examinations are important is because you can detect when you feel a lump that was not there the month before. Get to know your body. The more you know your body, the better it is.

Here are a few statistics on breast cancer. In the history of breast cancer, there have been 3.5 million women diagnosed as of January 2020. African American women, under the age of 45, are more likely to receive a diagnosis than Caucasian women. Statistics have shown African American women are also more likely to die from the disease. The chances of being diagnosed doubles if there is a mother, sister, or daughter that was previously diagnosed. For the 85% that are diagnosed with no family history, it occurs due to genetic mutation (http://www.breastcancer.org).

There are a few things you can do to help decrease your chances of getting breast cancer. Doctors advise each individual to be aware of her/his body mass index. Being overweight increases chances of contracting the disease. One should try to maintain a healthy diet. It is recommended exercise for at least 45-60 minutes several times a week. Other suggestions are the reduction of alcohol and smoking consumption.

Unfortunately, there is no 100% way to totally control the prevention of being diagnosed with breast cancer. You might do everything single thing the doctor says and still be diagnosed. You can receive your annual mammograms as doctors suggest and still be diagnosed. Sadly, there will be some deaths. These losses hurt. Death leaves a void in the lives of family that are left on earth. All they have are memories of their loves ones.

Thankfully, a woman or man that receive those dreaded words “you have breast cancer” does not mean your life will end in death. As statistics have shown, the chances of survival are much higher than it is to die from the disease. Technology and research are better than it was years ago. There is hope. If you are reading this today, you might have cancer or know someone that is going through chemo at this moment. Be encouraged. Surround yourself with family and friends that will support you. Don’t give up. Keeping fighting and tell cancer to that “it” can’t have your life. Let cancer know you will win. Keep the faith and never give up.

“Saying goodbye to what once had a hold on me”

If I were to take a poll and ask what does Labor Day mean to you, I am sure most would say it’s a United States federal holiday and probably excitement if lucky enough to have the day off from work. Some might say it is a day of appreciation for having employment or a day of recognition for all laborers in the workforce. If one were to ask me what does Labor Day mean to you Carman, my will response will not be any of the above. My response goes like this.

Labor Day, September 3, 2012, my life changed forever. One that I will never forget. It is a day for years that carried hurt, anger, depression, embarrassment, and misery in my mind, heart, body, and soul. Initially, it is a day that I wished I could erase from the calendar and never see it again.

You are probably wondering how can Labor Day, a day that is to celebrate having a job, evoke those emotions in me. What is it about Labor Day that would cause this to you? What in the world happened? Here’s the answer. On September 3, 2012, I endured what I call the “walk of shame.”

Let me rewind the clock. I was going through a divorce and seeking joint custody from the courts. If children are over the age of twelve, the children can decide which parent they want to live. The oldest children made the choice to live with their father. I was more of the disciplinarian, and he was the cooler and more laid back parent. If I was child, I probably would have done the same. Because of their selection, he would maintain ownership of the home, and I was informed by my attorney that I would soon have to leave. I just didn’t know when it would be. Believe me when I say, I wasn’t mentally prepared for the day when it arrived. I don’t think there was a way to prepare my mind for it.

August 31, 2012, I received a call from my attorney. He said it is time for you to vacate the house. Immediately, I began to cry and question God. I said this can’t be real. I felt I had been hit by a train, this was a bad dream, and I would awake at any moment. Unfortunately, it was real. He said you have to leave today. I said no. Monday is the holiday. I’m off work. It will give me time to pack my things, and I’ll leave. He agreed.

Monday came, and it was time for me to leave. I dread leaving all day long. I put it off as long as I could. I did not want to go. Who would? This was my home. It was a home that my three children lived. It was a home that my name was still legally on it. Even though I said I needed extra time to pack, I could never put my mind to actually do it. That Monday, I decided all I wanted was my clothes, my books, and my photo albums. He could have everything else.

That dreadful day, some family members were staying the night. Therefore, the house was full. In my mind , the moment I was leaving felt like a portion out of a script from a movie scene. All eyes were on me. As everyone watched, I walked down the stairs with my things in my hands and my head hung low. I loaded up my vehicle and drove to my parents home. Graciously and thankfully, my parents allowed me to move back in with them. When I left their house in June 1999, I never expected I would have to return years later. I felt defeated and broken inside.

Fast forward two years later, one of my best friends was having a tattoo party at her home. It was the weekend of Labor Day. She invited me to come and get a tattoo. I always wanted one, but I was scared to get one. I was raised strict Pentecostal, and one just didn’t get tattoos. I debated in my mind for hours. I came to the conclusion that I would get one and just go for it. I selected an image that has a sun and moon facing each other surrounded by stars. It symbolizes that even though there’ll be dark days (moon) light will soon follow (sun). For me, that was a perfect symbolic image for this thing called life.

For me, that was my first step in taking my life back. Taking my life back wasn’t easy nor was it something that would happen over night. I would have flashbacks of the “walk of shame” each year when Labor Day came. I became depressed all over again. One day, I told myself that I couldn’t keep going through this cycle. This isn’t good, and I needed to snap out of it . It took years for me to not sink to a low place when Labor Day came around. Eventually, I did overcome by my faith in God, praying, seeing a mental therapist, and support from family and close friends.

I am glad that I can humbly say Labor Day no longer has a hold on me. I can celebrate as others. I can be happy that I work at a bank and be one of those people excited about having a federal holiday off. I can ask my friends who’s grilling because I want some BBQ. I can relax, enjoy life and smile.

Here’s to saying goodbye to the “walk of shame” on Labor Day (the thing, the day that once had me bound). The day that once held me hostage in my heart, mind, body, and soul. The day that once took my breath away. The day that changed my life forever. The day that will no longer have a hold on me. Here’s to saying hello to Loving all of Carman: mind, heart, body and soul.