10 Years Later

It's incredible for me to think about the fact that I began this post nearly a year ago and have since saved it in draft form. It's even funnier for me to read the first line I wrote:
I've been thinking about this post for a few months.

As we moved into the year 2006, I remember thinking that it would be a year filled of mile-markers for me. Ten years after my father died. Ten years after my heart was broken. Ten years after much strain and strife. And ten years after my attempts to end it. My heart crumbled and my soul splintered.

I've gone through my old drafts of this blog post and have discovered some growth throughout this past anniversary year. So I continue with a very edited version of what I first wrote in the beginning of 2006.

Since then, I've been in a mode of survival and recovery.

When I celebrated my 28th birthday last year, I knew that this year would be significantly different. I knew that I would look at everything with a different perspective; I would look at it through the eyes of an 18 year old girl who was finally healing.

I feel very blessed that I was born on December 21st for many, many reasons. But one of my most favorite reasons is this opportunity of reflection, synchronized with the major annual events of Christmas and New Year's. I love thinking! Reflecting! Growing! And what a wonderful opportunity I've been given by being born on the first day of winter. The day marking the shortest day of the year, when every day after gets just more and more glimmers of light beaming onto our lives. The day marking the death of old things to make room for the new.
It's just one more reason why I feel as if I'm among the luckiest alive.

And of course, there are many more reasons.

I'm one of those people who really loves those end-of-the-year Christmas newsletters from friends. It's great to see all the changes people go through in such a short amount of time. For instance, my friend Jennie had a baby, bought a house, and her husband graduated from school (congrats Tom!). It was a huge year for them! And I think that many of my friends and family have had similar excitements or changes. It's so great to see how everything evolves if we allow change to happen and breathe into our lives.

This year I've tried to do a lot of that. But change is hard, isn't it? I finally got to a point very early this year when I was ready for major overhaul. Beginning with my heart! Grad school had already humbled me significantly by remodeling my brain. It was now time to take on another project!

So in a nutshell, here's my year: I went back into therapy. I graduated from a top-notch grad school. I made it to network television. I packed up my house. I drove across the country. I took risks. And I fell in love with a wonderful man!
These are major accomplishments for me that somehow I forget unless I take some moments to reflect. And for that I'm grateful.

I'm grateful for the moments of reflection. The moments when I feel as if I'm absolutely going to lose it. And the hope of getting better and better with each year.

This is far from how I intended this post to look. And as you know, I'm terribly hard on myself and seek perfection in many things. But I'm posting this in a revised draft form, without finishing touches. Because, like me, it's still a work in progress.

It's time to continue moving forward.

Happy Birthday to ME!

Today is different from most days. Not just because I'm older, but because I'm celebrating a much more subdued birthday than in years past.
Typically I spend the day with my mom and sister-in-law (it's Rene's birthday too). But this year I'm far away and miss them terribly.
This year I'm at work. At a job I don't really have. And my friends aren't really here. It's a total bummer in many ways. But I refuse for today to suck as bad as I've expected.

And I've been so grateful for all of the sweet, unexpected phone calls, cards, blog posts and birthday wishes from my friends and family!!! It's really made this day a good one. So thank you for remembering me even when I'm not around!

I've been feeling pretty lonely these days in New York, so hearing from everyone is just the best ever. So thanks for all of your sweet emails and such!


Happy Birthday Rene'!
Happy Birthday Lisa!
Happy Birthday Ashley!

A Friend, A Superhero, and Inspiration... Remembered

July 28, 1978 - December 3, 2006


I just got a call from Kelly. It was one of those phone calls. Those phone calls that start out sort of normal and then you quickly sense something tense in their voice, indicating something horrible has happened.

"I have some bad news," she said.

She went on to tell me that our dear friend, Amy Ruman, has died.

If you knew Amy - even if you didn't know her well - she was likely also a dear friend to you. That's just how she was.

There was something very special about this woman. This superhero, pint-sized woman. She fought and won health battles time and time again throughout her life. But last Sunday, her body just couldn't do it anymore.


I first met Amy a few years ago at church. We all called her "Lil Amy" and for good reason. Amy stood about 4-feet, 10-inches tall. She was tiny. So tiny that every time I hugged her I wondered if I'd break her in two. But she LOVED hugs, so many, many times, people would carefully wrap their arms around her, hoping to avoid crushing her teeny frame.
As a child, Amy had a tumor removed that would keep her from growing to a full height. She wore kids sizes in clothes (cute clothes!) and thus, never had the fear of wearing the same outfit as anyone else to church. She was feisty. She also didn't let her ailments define her.
Her personality always beamed positivity. Even in moments of angst, she would utter words of faith, hope, and healing working within her. She converted to the church in 2000 and it was her life-source. She was an inspiration to me.
That word, "inspiration", can be so over-used when speaking of someone who's passed. But in Amy's case, there really is no other word.

A couple years ago I saw her in church and she pointed to a new accessory she was wearing. It was a small machine about the size of a tape player I had as a child. It made a soft white noise and had little monitors that looked similar to a compass. Attached to it was a tube that ran straight into her stomach.
"This is how I take my medicine now," she said quite simply with a shrug. It was truly NO BIG DEAL to her. Amy had been to hell and back throughout her life with all sorts of health problems. To her, this medicine machine was just one more step in the process.
Before that moment, I always believed Amy's attitude -- that she would live forever. But I remember distinctly wondering that day whether this would be the last time I would see her. She, however, gave no thought to the end of her days. Her focus in life was to prove to the rest of us how to really LIVE.

Amy would walk up to the church podium, pull the microphone down, and tip up her chin with a strain to utter the words of her strong testimony of the Savior. Amy - although little - had one of the biggest spirits I'd ever met. She was honest about her genuine love for the Lord and was consistently filled with the reminder that every moment on this Earth is a blessing. Amy wasn't one to take things for granted, nor would she waste much time complaining about things. In fact, the only thing she ever even sounded slightly negative about was the lack of romantic interests in her life. Amy didn't let her illness get in the way of pursuing love in her life.

About a year ago, I received an excited email from her telling me about a new guy she'd met online. Aaron was younger, totally cute, and lived in California. I could tell this relationship was going to go somewhere. That just seems to happen sometimes -- those moments when you can tell a friend is telling you about "the one."
A couple months later she told me she was engaged! This was glorius news to me. But I - like most of our friends - secretly wondered how long this marriage would last. Amy had a terminal disease. She had pulmonary hypertension, which weighed heavily on her lungs. By that time she'd been forced to use oxygen to breathe.
But her growing ailments and added accessories were not stopping her or Aaron from spending as much time together as possible on this Earth.
They discussed marrying in October but quickly changed the date to August.

Amy and Aaron Jackson married in the temple on August 26th.



For those of you not in the church, you should understand that this date - August 26th, 2006 - was the pinnacle moment in Amy's life. Before then, Amy would have claimed her baptism to be her favorite day. But as Mormons, we believe husband and wife can be married not just for their time here on Earth, but forever and ever. We believe that no matter how little time Amy and Aaron would have here, they would have eternity to make up for it.

Aaron and Amy were married for only three months.



Although I'm sure many of you will feel the same sadness that I'm feeling about her death, I know one thing's for sure about Lil Amy. She would not have made a big deal about this. She would have reminded us of her love for the Lord, her love of Jesus Christ, and would have emphasized how wonderful it was that she had the chance to live her life in the Lord's church. She wouldn't be preachy about it. Instead, she'd just be very matter of fact in her powerful and slightly-shaky voice. She would smile. She would laugh. She would remind us of the great blessings in her life and the blessings of the temple. She would tell us how lucky she was to meet a man like Aaron, who made an eternal commitment to her in the Lord's House. She would be grateful to have so many friends. And she'd tell us not to worry if it'd been too long since we'd talked. That was just the way she was. She would have seen death as just one more step in her remarkable journey through life. I'm sure she would even look at it as yet one more battle she'd WON. Because to Amy, every moment and every breath counted. She taught us what living was really about. And thus, her death, follows in the footsteps of her grace.



Here is more information regarding Amy's life, death, and where she's buried. There's also a place on the site to leave your condolences.

If you want to want to feel some more of Amy's energy, warmth, and excitement, read the last post on her blog. As you'll see, it mentions the excitement of love in her life! She was so wonderful, fun, and loving.


Thank you Amy for everything you've done for me. For being my friend. For being an inspiration in everything you did. For never giving up. And for really showing me how to LIVE. You will truly, truly be missed.