DISCLAIMER(AGAIN): For those of you who don't known my blog very well, Kelton is NOT Sunshine's birthfather. Also, I think my blog has evolved from not only a birthmother blog, but just a blog about my life in general, though I do owe you an update on little Sunshine! :D
----
I wrote the following few paragraphs just a few days before Kelton died.
"I've found myself at a crossroads. And it's one of those crossroads where either path will lead to happiness. I have to decide whether to keep a certain boy in my life. Whether to continue things on as they are, a sort-of kinda relationship, never committing, or to commit and marry him. Problem is, I feel it is a decison that is much larger than myself, because depending how I make this decision, I will effect not only myself but my future spouse and children. I dont think that staying with Kelton would make my life miserable, I could be very happy with him, I just think I might be happier with somebody else. Maybe there is someone out there better for me. And someone out there that is better for him.
My dad gave me a blessing once, and he said in it that my eternal companion was out there looking for me, and I think he meant it literally, that right at this moment he is searching for me. I feel like I am supposed to find him soon, but my stubborn self is not in the right place yet. I have this urgency in my heart, like I need to put myself in a position where I am ready to be who I am supposed to be for him.
But what if I am wrong? What if I give up Kelton, someone who means so much to me, and I still have to wait around for a few years? I don't want to. I can't do it for that long."
So many people have asked me since he died if I had been planning to marry him. From the beginning, many of my friends told me they thought I would marry him, and I know his family wanted us to, even though they had never met me. They just said that he changed after he met me, and all they really cared about was that he was happier than he had ever been in his life. But for some reason neither of us felt right about being in a "real relationship". We were never fully committed to eachother and we were okay with that, but most people around us didn't understand it, especially when we had such obviously strong feelings for eachother. And looking back now, I understand why we felt that way, although we couldnt explain it.
We talked about marriage alot, especially in the few weeks before his death. We knew it had come to the point where we either had to be together for real, or break off the way things were. We loved eachother, it was undeniable, but we also knew that we both had alot to do with our lives before we were prepared for marriage. In some wierd way, I knew I wouldn't always have him. I just didn't think it would be his death that would remove him from my life. I thought it would be on my terms.
In some ways, I'm happy there wasn't a nasty difficult breakup with drama and hard feelings left over. But on the other hand, it's significantly more difficult to get over someone who never hurt you. I have literally no bad memories of Kelton. No bitterness that I can utilize to remind myself why I don't have him in my life anymore. I just have all the wonderful times that I miss so badly. And with a breakup, I could still talk to whatever jerkface it was, but in this situation... he's just gone. Completely. And my heart is having a hard time comprehending why someone so close to it just up and disappeared.
I'm feeling the healing happening. I know because sometimes I'm really sad and I cry. Or I will get so angry at Kelton for driving like an idiot and getting himself killed. Or I can be totally okay with it all and return to normal life. And because I have experienced loss before, I know that I prefer to deal with it alone, I like to stay very busy, and that I do something dramatic with my hair. All of which have occurred in the last few weeks.
I started writing out our story. I tried to write down every memory I had of him, in order. But the hardest part to write was the funeral, because once I got past writing about his death, I didn't want to write anymore. I felt like everything that really mattered had been said.
The funeral was the easy part of all this. The hard part was going back to real life again- walking into my apartment and putting my things down and realizing I had to go on with life again, as if he hadn't died. And so I do. I continue on with life, missing my best friend everyday. I always just remind myself that there has to be someone else out there for me, someone equally as awesome, because I knew from the beginning he wasn't mine to keep. But there will never be another Kelton Zundel.
Sunday, July 29, 2012
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
I Dream of Aprons.
So, Utah is an odd place. And I fully intend to make a post about how freaking odd it really is, but right now I just want to focus on the fact that I now live in a much more populated area, that is also in proximity to a major city. And with this proximity and population there is alot of opportunity here that was not present in lil' old San Angelo. Not even as much as in an even bigger or more popular city, just more than San Angelo.
Well, at my beauty school (that I have to reattend to get my license in Utah), we get alot of "Guest Artists" who come to teach us new techniques and sell us products, tools, ect. One thing I have noticed about these artists is that they all talk about and profit and moving up in the world, and I don't see anything wrong with all that. Except I realized it really isn't something I care about.
Monday night we had a Redken artist (for those who are hair illiterate, she worked for one of the most presigious hair companies), and she was absolutely the sweetest lady ever, but she talked about money and how she had worked on celebrities, and everyone in the classroom wanted to know how to become a Redken artist. As I listened to her talk, and I have felt this many times before with other teachers too, I felt as if I HAD to become a rich stylist with high profile clients or else I would be a failure as a hairdresser. And I think that I felt that way because that is that standard that all stylists are held to- the closer you are to that, the better stylist you are!
I don't doubt my ability to make it to the big leagues as a stylist. I really think I could if I wanted to. But at that moment that I felt that pressure to be a wealthy stylist, I got very sad. Because if I did set that as my priority, it would mean all the other things I want to do, such as get a degree, marry, and have a family, would have to take a backseat. So, as my evening wore on, I sat there conflicted. The world tells me I should want to be a wealthy stylist, while, honestly, I don't think I want that. Don't get me wrong, the money and nice things and attention would probably be awesome, but at the same time, it means working long hours, travelling, and alot of responsibility, leaving very little time left over for the things that I feel REALLY matter.
Then that night I had this dream, and I feel like I disclose too many of my dreams to you blog readers, but I have found they really tell me things about myself. I don't think it's so much in a spiritual or vision related sort of way, just that my feelings manifest themselves wierdly in my dreams and since I remember my dreams so well, I can use them to figure out things about myself. Anyways, in this dream of mine, I always wore cute aprons. I had all these checkered and plaid aprons that I wore everyday, and I liked them. Well, I decided to try for a part in a movie, and so for some reason someone gave me a makeover basically and threw away all my aprons and I had to wear different, "better" clothes. And I missed my aprons, they were part of who I was. And when I saw my family, they all missed my aprons too, because they liked the Alisha who wore the apron.
Almost all hairstylists aspire to become rich and famous, or own their own salon, and I don't think there is anything wrong with that idea. But I think that I will be happiest in a nice little house, with my averagely paid husband and adorable kids...wearing my aprons.
Well, at my beauty school (that I have to reattend to get my license in Utah), we get alot of "Guest Artists" who come to teach us new techniques and sell us products, tools, ect. One thing I have noticed about these artists is that they all talk about and profit and moving up in the world, and I don't see anything wrong with all that. Except I realized it really isn't something I care about.
Monday night we had a Redken artist (for those who are hair illiterate, she worked for one of the most presigious hair companies), and she was absolutely the sweetest lady ever, but she talked about money and how she had worked on celebrities, and everyone in the classroom wanted to know how to become a Redken artist. As I listened to her talk, and I have felt this many times before with other teachers too, I felt as if I HAD to become a rich stylist with high profile clients or else I would be a failure as a hairdresser. And I think that I felt that way because that is that standard that all stylists are held to- the closer you are to that, the better stylist you are!
I don't doubt my ability to make it to the big leagues as a stylist. I really think I could if I wanted to. But at that moment that I felt that pressure to be a wealthy stylist, I got very sad. Because if I did set that as my priority, it would mean all the other things I want to do, such as get a degree, marry, and have a family, would have to take a backseat. So, as my evening wore on, I sat there conflicted. The world tells me I should want to be a wealthy stylist, while, honestly, I don't think I want that. Don't get me wrong, the money and nice things and attention would probably be awesome, but at the same time, it means working long hours, travelling, and alot of responsibility, leaving very little time left over for the things that I feel REALLY matter.
Then that night I had this dream, and I feel like I disclose too many of my dreams to you blog readers, but I have found they really tell me things about myself. I don't think it's so much in a spiritual or vision related sort of way, just that my feelings manifest themselves wierdly in my dreams and since I remember my dreams so well, I can use them to figure out things about myself. Anyways, in this dream of mine, I always wore cute aprons. I had all these checkered and plaid aprons that I wore everyday, and I liked them. Well, I decided to try for a part in a movie, and so for some reason someone gave me a makeover basically and threw away all my aprons and I had to wear different, "better" clothes. And I missed my aprons, they were part of who I was. And when I saw my family, they all missed my aprons too, because they liked the Alisha who wore the apron.
Almost all hairstylists aspire to become rich and famous, or own their own salon, and I don't think there is anything wrong with that idea. But I think that I will be happiest in a nice little house, with my averagely paid husband and adorable kids...wearing my aprons.
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
Burrito.
(For those who don't know me or my blog very well, Kelton is NOT Sunshine's birthfather.)
It was a typical Thursday night, and I showed up to Institute early as always for dinner. I don't remember what we ate, but I was wearing skinny jeans, my stud belt, a flowery black tank top and cardigan. I remember when Kelton walked in, wearing jeans and his A Day To Remember tshirt and looked utterly adorable. He was so happy and upbeat. I kept sneaking peeks up at him when he wasn't looking, and hoped he noticed me the way I was him. We then had class and afterward I hoped he would stay to play Scrud, but he took off pretty quickly. For the next week, I couldn't stop thinking about him. I couldn't remember his name, but my friend told me and I looked for him on Facebook but couldn't find him. On Sunday, I even went to his ward and hoped he wold be there but he wasn't. The next Thursday I went to institute with high hopes, and he was there! But this time he stayed to play Scrud. During the game we talked a little bit, and he was so sweet and a ton of fun. The whole time, I was contemplating giving him my number, but I was so nervous that he would just think I was crazy. I'm not usually the type of girl to give my number to someone I don't know, but every piece of me was telling me to do it. So I took a leap of faith, and I will never ever regret it.
But last night I got a message on Facebook, telling me that Kelton had been in an accident and died. The message came at 7:40... And I had only just spoken to him an hour before on the phone. I thought it was a joke, I called his cousin and demanded that he stop messing with me, but he wasn't. Kelton was gone. My best friend, my Zookeeper Kid, my Burrito. I really am not sure how to describe him, because all these words sound so mundane, but I guess I will try because I never want to forget the things he taught me. Kelton showed me what a real man is. He loved me no matter what my body looked like and appreciated my talents and quirks and wierd things I did for no reason. I told him everything and listened when he told me his secrets. I could tell him any mistake I ever made in the past, and he never cared or judged me for it. He loved hearing about Sunshine, and I promised him he could meet her someday, although he never had the chance on this earth. He was the most dedicated person I have ever known, and if he said he was going to do something, he did it... even if he botched it up a little. ;) I'm not going to make Kelton out to be perfect, because he wasn't. He was very imperfect, and thats one of the many reasons I loved him so much. He reminded me that I could be an amazing person, even if I messed up sometimes. We could talk and communicate so openly, even about difficult subjects, and he would try to see from my point of view and never get angry. We never had a fight even when we disagreed, although that was still rare. I have never met someone so like me, yet so different. We had many of the same experiences and views of religion and life, and leaned on eachother spiritually whenever we felt inadequate. We were much alike in that we were realistic and undramatic. He impressed me by his talent and passion for music, seeing as I had none. Some of my favorite memories with him is watching him play or listen to music, and the look he had in his eye and the happiness he felt at those moments. He worked very hard at his job, the military, and in his relationships, and accomplished so much for a boy his age.
Much of our friendship took place over long distance, but he would call me every morning to make sure I got up for school, text me frequently during the day, and we would talk on the phone or Skype every evening. I knew Kelton as a friend, a counselor, an inspiration, an example, a confidante, and the other end of my telepathy. I'm sad I only got to know him for the last 5 months of his life, but I'm grateful to have had at least that much, and I know I will see him again. I know he is up there with Heavenly Father and he still loves me, and I hope he has the girl that he deserves, because there was nothing he wanted more than a wife and children.
I miss you so much Kelton, and you set the standard high for every man after you. It's going to be a challenge for me to find someone who understands me like you did. Also, now that you're dead, I'm being all sappy and lovey-dovey (or at least as sappy as I can possibly get, you know I'm not the romantic type).
I love you times a billion!
It was a typical Thursday night, and I showed up to Institute early as always for dinner. I don't remember what we ate, but I was wearing skinny jeans, my stud belt, a flowery black tank top and cardigan. I remember when Kelton walked in, wearing jeans and his A Day To Remember tshirt and looked utterly adorable. He was so happy and upbeat. I kept sneaking peeks up at him when he wasn't looking, and hoped he noticed me the way I was him. We then had class and afterward I hoped he would stay to play Scrud, but he took off pretty quickly. For the next week, I couldn't stop thinking about him. I couldn't remember his name, but my friend told me and I looked for him on Facebook but couldn't find him. On Sunday, I even went to his ward and hoped he wold be there but he wasn't. The next Thursday I went to institute with high hopes, and he was there! But this time he stayed to play Scrud. During the game we talked a little bit, and he was so sweet and a ton of fun. The whole time, I was contemplating giving him my number, but I was so nervous that he would just think I was crazy. I'm not usually the type of girl to give my number to someone I don't know, but every piece of me was telling me to do it. So I took a leap of faith, and I will never ever regret it.
But last night I got a message on Facebook, telling me that Kelton had been in an accident and died. The message came at 7:40... And I had only just spoken to him an hour before on the phone. I thought it was a joke, I called his cousin and demanded that he stop messing with me, but he wasn't. Kelton was gone. My best friend, my Zookeeper Kid, my Burrito. I really am not sure how to describe him, because all these words sound so mundane, but I guess I will try because I never want to forget the things he taught me. Kelton showed me what a real man is. He loved me no matter what my body looked like and appreciated my talents and quirks and wierd things I did for no reason. I told him everything and listened when he told me his secrets. I could tell him any mistake I ever made in the past, and he never cared or judged me for it. He loved hearing about Sunshine, and I promised him he could meet her someday, although he never had the chance on this earth. He was the most dedicated person I have ever known, and if he said he was going to do something, he did it... even if he botched it up a little. ;) I'm not going to make Kelton out to be perfect, because he wasn't. He was very imperfect, and thats one of the many reasons I loved him so much. He reminded me that I could be an amazing person, even if I messed up sometimes. We could talk and communicate so openly, even about difficult subjects, and he would try to see from my point of view and never get angry. We never had a fight even when we disagreed, although that was still rare. I have never met someone so like me, yet so different. We had many of the same experiences and views of religion and life, and leaned on eachother spiritually whenever we felt inadequate. We were much alike in that we were realistic and undramatic. He impressed me by his talent and passion for music, seeing as I had none. Some of my favorite memories with him is watching him play or listen to music, and the look he had in his eye and the happiness he felt at those moments. He worked very hard at his job, the military, and in his relationships, and accomplished so much for a boy his age.
Much of our friendship took place over long distance, but he would call me every morning to make sure I got up for school, text me frequently during the day, and we would talk on the phone or Skype every evening. I knew Kelton as a friend, a counselor, an inspiration, an example, a confidante, and the other end of my telepathy. I'm sad I only got to know him for the last 5 months of his life, but I'm grateful to have had at least that much, and I know I will see him again. I know he is up there with Heavenly Father and he still loves me, and I hope he has the girl that he deserves, because there was nothing he wanted more than a wife and children.
I miss you so much Kelton, and you set the standard high for every man after you. It's going to be a challenge for me to find someone who understands me like you did. Also, now that you're dead, I'm being all sappy and lovey-dovey (or at least as sappy as I can possibly get, you know I'm not the romantic type).
I love you times a billion!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)