Breathe.

I've been toying with the idea of writing down my thoughts for a long time. At times, this blog will be wedding advice and ideas. At times it will be a lesson I've learned. I think today will be a combination of both.

When you're a little kid it's easy to think about what you want to be when you grow up. However, we don't often think about what our life will be like when we grow up. That's not the fun part. We don't think about bad things when we're little. We think we will have our own house, a great job, and lots of toys. But what happens when you grow up and life isn't the way you ever could have imagined? What if it's worse? What do you do? You put one foot in front of the other and breathe.

I don't remember what I wanted to be when I grew up. Chances are I wanted to be like my mom. Kind, smart, loving, silly, superwoman. Now that I'm a grown up, I can only hope that I have become even a fraction of a bit like my mom. When I was that little girl wanting to be like my mom, I never imagined that I would one day live life without her. And I surely never imagined it would be so soon. But cancer doesn't care about your little girl dreams. It doesn't really show much regard for what you want at all. My mom fought like I have never seen anyone fight. She didn't give that disease one inch of her body without defending herself like crazy. But cancer doesn't care that you're the world's best mom. Cancer doesn't care that you love your kids and your husband more than life itself. Cancer doesn't care that your smile lights up a room. We live in a fallen, sinful world. And because of that, and despite all of her fighting, cancer took my mom.

So here I am. I'm getting married, without my mom. And without my dad. But we'll save that for another day. I don't want this to be a tearjerker, but I know many people look at my life and say, "I don't know how she does it. If I lost both my parents, I don't know what I'd do." Here's what you do: Take a deep breath, put one foot in front of other, and smile. I said yes to a marriage proposal without my mom. I bought a wedding dress without my mom. I am planning a wedding without my mom. I had a bridal shower without my mom. And I'm still standing.I'm still smiling. I miss her every second of every day. I miss her when I'm addressing wedding invitations and I miss her when I'm cleaning the house. I miss her when I wake up in the morning and I miss her when I lie down at night. It doesn't go away. Everyone tells you, "It gets better with time." It doesn't. No amount of time will let me hear my mom's voice again. So what do you do? You breathe. You smile.

Every day I find new ways that my mom lives in me. I find myself thinking like her, reacting like her, and living like her. My mom never had a "bucket list". In fact, she'd be pretty pissed that she's gone. But she did love her life. She loved laughter and she loved being crazy. Mostly, she loved me. And my dad. And my brother. And my sister. And my other sister. My mom loved love. And that is how she lives in me. I love love. Not the mushy, gushy, gag-me type of love. Ask my fiance about that. No. I love to make people happy. I love when people smile because of me. So I am planning a wedding that will make people smile. I want my wedding to be a reflection of love. I want to dance and I want to laugh and I want to love because that's when I feel closest to my mom. That's how I deal with her being gone. I breathe, I laugh, and I love.