My Very Special First Duck Hunt

I am not a hunter. I am not anti-hunting, assuming good sportsmanship is practiced and the animal is respected. I went as a kid with my dad and brother, but just because I wanted to be with them. If my memory serves me correctly, I have only dove, deer, and squirrel hunted. I have seen videos of duck hunters, but I had never done it. I’ve heard how addictive turkey hunting is, but I just haven’t had the desire to go. Nothing about being still, quiet, and cold have ever appealed to me, nor has killing an animal.

My brother was an avid outdoorsman. He has hunted most game around here, with the exception of hogs, as far as I know. I enjoy doing things that allow me to feel his presence or as if he is living through me. The river, particularly, the Alabama, where he spent so much time, is a place where I experience that feeling.

We are currently experiencing an “Arctic blast,” as the meteorologists call it. Saturday evening, my boyfriend, Randy, asked me to go on a duck hunt with him the next morning. He said he would be disappointed if I didn’t go. He is so good to me, so I never want to disappoint him, and I appreciate that he wanted me to go. I told him I didn’t want to be cold. He told me that I would be in the cab of a boat with a heater. He also told me that he was going to cook deer sausage. I thought he was joking about cooking. I agreed to go. We launched at the Peach Tree landing, where my brother launched countless times. I wore his faded camo duck jacket, took a thermos of “special” coffee, lol, and a book. We went to “a place” off the river, the hunters got situated, and we waited on the sunrise (30 minutes before sunrise, to be exact). It was a bit foggy, but as the sun rose over the Alabama, I immediately knew why my brother loved duck hunting. I’ve seen the sun rise over the river many times on fishing trips, but it was even more beautiful yesterday. I thought to myself “so this is why these guys get up so early and face the cold, and it is so worth it!” The hunters had decoys out, the trees were hanging over us, the fog was rising, and the sun was starting to shine. It was one of the best, most special times I have experienced, especially since my brother’s passing. We saw a lot of ducks and bagged three. Animals are beautiful to me, but my favorite duck is a male wood duck. One was killed, and the hunter gave him to me. I will have him mounted to commemorate my first duck hunt. I know I didn’t kill him, but I was there. It was so exciting seeing the ducks fly and the hunters raise their shotguns. Again, even though I wasn’t hunting, I felt like I was hunting for Jared. I know that he was smiling down even bigger.

I made sure not to be the annoying girlfriend/wife tagging along making noise, talking too much, asking stupid questions, and getting in the way. Randy broke out the Blackstone, and sure enough, grilled deer sausage right there in the boat. I drank my “rise and shine,” but never cracked the book. I didn’t want to miss the beauty of the experience. I am not a legalist who thinks one is going straight to Hell if they “aren’t at church every time the door is open,” but we missed Sunday School. With no disrespect to Sunday School, admiring God’s creation was way more church than one can experience in a building. I also thought, as I do often, about how thankful I am that I will see my brother again. I can’t wait to tell him about my first duck hunt. I can’t wait for him to meet Randy. On earth, they would have been the best of friends, and would have helped me keep the other straight, lol. Jared would be so happy that I am with someone who treats me so well and likes to do the same things he did. My garage attic is full of Jared’s decoys. We plan to take a few and go back. This spring, I hope to kill a turkey with Jared’s gun. It means a lot to me to do the things he did and with his equipment. I am very protective of it, though, as it cannot be replaced. I am thankful to have had such a brother, and I am also thankful to have such a boyfriend.

Be Punctual and Keep Your Word

Dependable is defined as trustworthy and reliable. I saw a quote that defined integrity as “doing what you say you’re going to do, because you said you would.” I agree with both definitions. Sadly, those traits are becoming endangered. 

 The scarcity of these traits in daily life is everywhere you turn, but have you hosted a party lately? Been invited to one? Given any thought to what it takes to host a party? These are topics worth visiting after my experiences lately. 

 In 2020, my parents hosted a birthday party for me. It was well planned and organized. They grilled lots of great food and bought a huge cake. We even had live entertainment. Over 60 people were invited. Fewer than 15 were present- that’s including my parents and me. Now, this was during the first year of the pandemic, but there were dozens of people who verbally told me or texted their intentions to attend. They were no-shows. Some even told me that they were coming, but then were not because other non-emergency things came up. More on that soon. 

 Opening weekend of college football season this year, I hosted another party. The same thing happened. People who went out of their way to tell me they were coming did not. And, unless it’s an emergency, telling the host just hours before is no good. They’ve already counted heads and bought the food, drinks, and other necessary items. Luckily, the guests who did show up brought other guests, so not much was wasted.

 And most recently, I hosted a watch party for the season premier of Yellowstone. I had previously learned the hard way that on Facebook, “going” means nothing. I do, however, count the “not goings.” I think people feel guilty about clicking that. If you do, don’t. That is what you are supposed to do if you know you can’t attend. You are doing the host a favor by letting them know so they won’t “count your head” in preparation. You owe no explanation, but there’s nothing wrong with giving one. You are not obligated, though. 

 On the other hand, if you say you are going to attend and you don’t (unless it’s an emergency), your word is no good. You are as good as your word. 20 people told me they were going to attend. I don’t mean by clicking “going” in the event. These people either told me in person or texted me. Please understand that I am very thankful for those who attended and for those who told me they couldn’t make it. 

 I think a lot of times, people feel guilty about not being able to attend. You shouldn’t. If you had a previous obligation, you should keep it. I also understand social anxiety. That’s a legitimate reason for which you owe no explanation. I used to not attend things because I just didn’t want to deal with the hassle of getting ready and being away from home. After having my parties of disappointment, though, I try to attend every function to which I am invited. Have you ever thought about being invited to an event? Someone thought enough of you to want to invite you to their home or venue, prepare or purchase food and drinks for you, to enjoy your company, and to include you. Being invited is a privilege. I didn’t see it that way until I was let down by so many people. Let me reiterate that the people who told me in ample time that they couldn’t attend are top notch. That’s what RSVP/No Regrets means. It lets the host know how to prepare. It prevents them from wasting money, as I have done 3 times now, but never will again.

 Also, let’s say that a friend invites you to McDonald’s for lunch on Monday. Later, friend #2 invites you to The Oyster House for lunch Monday. The second invite is more appetizing, but you have already obligated yourself to friend #1. You don’t cancel those plans. You keep them and tell friend #2 that you appreciate the offer, but you already have plans. Ask which other day you can do lunch. This happened to several non-guests at my birthday party. They told me they were coming, then didn’t come because other things came up. They should have told the second invites “no” because they had previous obligations. In doing so, they would not have been rude to anyone. It is not rude to say you have previous obligations. There is nothing wrong with that.

 Since we’re on the subject-ish, let’s talk about being on time. There are two-ish acceptable reasons for being late: sickness/family emergency and car trouble. Otherwise, being late is rude. People can be on time for work and things that are important to them, but are often late to other things with less accountability. If it’s important to you, you will be on time. When you are late, someone is having to wait on you. They have stopped what they were doing or gotten up early to be on time. If you drag around and cause them to wait on you, you are being rude to them and disrespectful of their time. You disrupt events by showing up late. You are saying that your time and tasks are more valuable than theirs when you are late and cause people to wait on you. However, the way to break chronically late people is to leave them! LEAVE THEM! Start without them. DRIVE AWAY in your own vehicle. Don’t feel bad. They should feel bad about not being on time. Chronic lateness is a sign of laziness, incompetence, disorganization, and selfishness. I choose to not associate with chronically late people. It puts me in a bad mood just anticipating their lateness, even though I am going to leave on time with or without them. They will either up their game if you are important to them, or they will get tired of being left and find likeminded incompetent friends. 

 I’m sure some will read this and say I’m overthinking it, but people’s actions show you what’s important to them. If someone continuously tells you they are attending your party and they continuously don’t show, they do not care about you, so stop inviting them. Spend your time and energy on those who show up for your or let you know they can’t attend. If someone is always late, they are taking advantage of you and your time. They don’t care that you set your alarm and got up early or stopped what you were doing so you could be courteous and on time. As much as it hurt my feelings, it was an eye-opening lesson that culled out those who don’t care about me enough to keep their word. My word means so much to me that I am going to do what I said I was going to do because I am that kind of person, and I want people to know that I can be counted on. Those are the kinds of people I want in my life. I don’t have positive things to say about those who have proven that their word means nothing and that they are not dependable. That’s okay, because they lost someone dependable and loyal. I lost someone who never really cared about me and that I would never be able to depend on anyway. Now I know where to focus my energy and love. 

 Does that mean I hate the slackers? No. But it does mean I know where I stand with them and that I will never invite or depend on them again. I write this out of hurt, frustration, and disappointment, but also because I don’t think some people are aware of how rude it is to not keep your word and to be late. I don’t think they are aware that they are showing people what they mean (or don’t mean) to them.

 I’ve been told I was “militant,” which I took as a compliment. That means I’m dependable, organized, structured, punctual, and stand behind my word. I prefer “militant,” direct people. They are real. They are not perfect, but they try to be. They are not unorganized slackers. They are courteous. They are separated from the rest. These are going to be the people who have or will achieve things through hard work, discipline, and by doing the things others are unwilling to do. That’s the kind of person I am and want to continue to be.

Divorced at 40- A Reflection of the First Year of My New Chapter

Disclaimer: This is only meant to share my experience and NOT in any way speak ill of anyone, except maybe gossips and sin-rankers.

 I hope to let people know that they are not alone, as well as share some things that helped me and some experiences that taught me. One year ago this week, my husband of 16 years and I said our goodbyes (to our marriage), on good terms. As I look back, I see that I have learned and grown a great deal in this fast year. 

Prior to making the decision, I made sure I was emotionally ready. I also made sure I was able to support myself. My ex makes significantly more money than I do, so I knew that my lifestyle would change. Life is all about tradeoffs, and I was willing to accept the changes. I knew that I may no longer be able to afford to get my nails done, eat sushi as regularly as I would like, etc. Those were sacrifices I was willing to make for my happiness.

 My dad has always told us that God has a plan for our lives. The Bible also says that in Jeremiah 29:11-13. It’s really neat how things work out. As I was nearing my decision, I picked up a great side-hustle to help meet my financial needs. I was asked to join a college football podcast that took my mind off things and kept me busy during that time. I started a new fitness and nutrition program that gave me a goal on which to focus. 

 We remained peaceful throughout the whole process (and still do). He bought a house in his hometown, and the way the closing and moving plans worked out, he had to move on 10/20, which is the anniversary of my brother’s death. The 22nd is my birthday, and the 23rd is his. I made it through his move okay. The next day was a little weird coming home to an empty house, but my dad turned the lights on for me. As soon as I drove up and saw that, I knew that everything was going to be okay. The next day was my 40th birthday. My work family decorated my office, my godson and his family came to visit, and I went to visit one of my best friends out of town for the weekend. It was a good birthday, especially considering the circumstances.

 The next several months were strange. I am glad they are over. They can best be described as an emotional roller coaster. My mentor son and I made several trips to Mobile and across the (Mobile) Bay to get things to “make the house my own,” so to speak. The holidays were fine, as I enjoyed the time with my parents. Christmas was a bit sad, though. Although I was with my parents, I felt alone at times. 

 Around the same time, a classmate of my brother’s was also going through a divorce. She and I quickly bonded, and still enjoy talking and doing things together. She and the rest of my support system have been crucial to me through this. I have friends I talk to often and do things with, one whose office I visited and cried regularly. He handed me tissues and told me if I had visible snot. Others sent non-prying messages of support. 

 I wasn’t in search of or desperate for a man, but I tried my hand at dating. Total nightmare, do NOT recommend. People, for the most part, do not do what they say they are going to do. They may show up, they may not. They probably aren’t going to be on time. TRAINWRECK! After a few months of that foolishness, I declared Cat Lady status. Also during that time, I started spending time with friends and doing things I had always wanted to do. I will forever treasure these times and friends. I went to concerts, planted gardens, redecorated my home and yard, etc. Just after declaring cat lady status, I took a girl trip to see my non-biological sister in Louisiana. We had a fantastic time. I came back totally pumped and solid and okay with being done with dating. It wasn’t a decision I made, but a place where I arrived mentally. It’s just like arriving at the place where I no longer care what people think. Those things are beyond freeing. 

 Along the lines of no longer caring what people think, I did not post anything about my new chapter until months later. I only told the most trustworthy people who are closest to me. Before making my decision, I reached out to a friend for advice and to hear her experience. I still run into people who say they didn’t know I was divorced. I wasn’t trying to hide anything, but it’s no one’s business. I also didn’t want to be the topic of conversation in the small towns where I live and conduct business. People love to hear bad things about people and add their twists to it. I was not going to add fuel to their fires of pettiness and weakness. 

 I am a Christian and was raised in a Christian home. I am beyond imperfect. I don’t mean any of this irreverently, but it drives me nuts when judgmental people rank sins. Many people, legalists in particular, think that some sins are worse than others. Let’s say you have x vice. They talk about you and judge you for your vice, but their gossip and judgment are just as sinful as your vice. Whatever your case may be- don’t worry about these people. While you are making moves to improve yourself, they are talking about you. They are behind you for a reason and will always be. Your mindset is not the same. To make moves, it takes courage. It also takes turning a blind eye to the foolishness. The ones who count know better. It took years of having faced my biggest fear, life experience, and therapy to realize this. I am a different person now. WORTH IT! When I was a teacher and more involved in traditional church, I was under a microscope. My kids know me and my love for and dedication to them. Not that I’m out going wild, but not having to worry about who sees me doing what is also life-changing. A lot of it has to do with legalist beliefs as well. In terms of divorce- I don’t believe that God wants us to live miserably or in an abusive situation. All abuse is not physical. Life after divorce goes on. There are worse things in life. Don’t worry about what people say and think. To wrap it up, if you are considering making any life change- divorce, career, etc., get your ducks in a row. Talk to trustworthy people who have been there. Have a backup plan. Accept the tradeoffs. Know that everything happens for a reason. Have a good support system. I am these things and don’t just say them without backing them up. I am happy to talk to anyone who needs it. As I learned very quickly after my brother’s tragic death- Life is too short. Live your life. Don’t worry about petty things or petty people. 

 PS- This is for another blog post, but a week after declaring cat lady status, my other divorced friend invited me to dinner the next day. On a Thursday evening, we went out of the county for dinner and to hear a band. I was approached by one of the kindest, most respectful men I’ve ever met. We went on our first date the following weekend, and the rest is history. To be continued…

Dads, Teach Your Daughters to be Self-Sufficient!

 

Yesterday as I was working in my yard, I thought of a lot of things quickly. It started with my yard and how much I enjoy it and working in it, and that led me to think of how my dad taught me how to do it, and that his birthday and Father’s Day are next week. Those thoughts continued to develop, as this is a year of firsts for me. Dads of daughters, listen up!

My parents are still married to each other, and I love them both, but I have always been a Daddy’s Girl. We have many of the same interests, and I have always enjoyed his company and doing things with him. As long as I can remember, my brother and I were with him doing whatever it was he was doing. It usually involved work! He made it fun, and he always made it a lesson. My brother’s lifelong best friend came by for a visit last week, and he was complimenting my brother and dad on how much my dad taught my brother. My brother died at 29, but he had carpentry, plumbing, electrical, and mechanical skills, just to name a few. He learned those skills by watching my dad and being taught by him. I was usually around, too, but I was holding the light or the “dumb end” of the tape, lol.

We didn’t always work, though. Once we finished the necessary tasks, we usually practiced whatever sport was in season, fished, or target practiced. We were always learning and doing something fun. If we needed extra money as kids, my dad would help us find car washing or grass cutting jobs in the neighborhood. He would help us and show us how to do things the right way.

I have always treasured all of that time spent with us, but even more so this year, in my year of firsts. I got married in college, and 16 years later, peacefully divorced last Fall. As I was working in the yard yesterday, I reflected on how thankful I am that my dad taught me, especially as a female, how to be self sufficient. I aired the tires in the mower, fueled the two cycle engines of the weed-eater, edger, and blower, and even changed the edger blade. A few weeks ago, I got the lawn mower stuck in a low-lying area and had to pull it out by myself with a truck. None of those are complicated tasks, but I have female friends (and probably some males) who are unable to do those things because they haven’t been taught. I am not an expert by any stretch, but being able to complete many tasks myself saves me money that I would otherwise not be able to afford to hire someone else to do. I may not be able to make all of the necessary repairs, but he taught me how to troubleshoot, read the gauges on my dash, etc. Since I’ve been by myself, he has shown me how to the replace the “thing” in the back of the toilet that makes it run, how to use a socket set, and lots of other things.

It's not just the things he’s shown me how to do, either. He and my mom do a lot to help me. I live next door to them, and I have multiple pets. I have about an hour long commute one way. They take my dogs out and feed them every day. I am not scared to stay by myself, but I remember the first night my ex-husband moved out. It still got dark early, so when I got home from work that evening, my dad had turned my porch light on for me. It was a tiny thing he did, but it let me know that everything was going to be alright. I have been stood up for more dates than not, but my dad always comes in clutch. I know that I can always depend on him.

Dads, teach your girls to be self-sufficient so they don’t have to depend on a man. Sure, I still depend on my dad and other men in my life, but I am thankful for the things I can do by myself. Teach them how to use basic tools, drive a stick shift, check and air their tires, wash their cars, cut their grass, shoot and handle guns, etc. With independence comes confidence. That confidence has been a huge help to me these last few months.

Most importantly, the best way to teach them is by giving them your time. In addition to being very loving, my dad (and mom) spent as much time with us as they could. That is priceless to me.

Gentleman Jack

 The best tangible gift I’ve ever received was a red dachshund puppy named Jack. My then husband, Jason, gave him to me for my college graduation. Our families and close friends were invited to graduation, then to a party at our house. I was looking forward to taking pictures with my family after graduation, but the crowd around their seats was a bit hostile. Everyone but my dad left after I walked. I fussed all the way home because I wanted pictures with them. I didn’t fuss long, though, because Jason actually left early to pick up the puppy so he could present him to me when we arrived. I thought he belonged to my brother’s girlfriend, but Jason said he was mine. I cried! And thus began our adventure with Jack.

The day I got Jack

The first weekend I had Jack, we were camping at the river.

Jack was a wonderful, well-mannered boy, which is not necessarily common for dachshunds. He was very sweet and friendly to everyone, especially his cougar girlfriends. Imogene was always his main squeeze, though. He visited her periodically and sent her cards, and she mailed cards and gifts to him as well.

A year later, we decided that Jack needed someone to keep him company during the day, so we got Bruiser. Bruiser (Bee) is a black dappled dachshund. He and Jack had one common parent. We bought them from the same breeder, which was prior to our becoming educated about the importance of adopting animals. Jack and Bee were fast friends. It took Bee a few months to catch up to Jack in terms of size, but they were inseparable. We referred to them as “the boys,” and after getting the much larger Trooper, we called them “the little boys.”

MMOR parade

The day we got Bee

In Mobile where we lived at the time, we had a fenced in yard where we would play with them. We took them for walks, and I dressed them in shirts, bandannas, and bowties. For a few consecutive years, we participated in the Mystic Mutts of Revelry parade in Fairhope, AL, which is a fundraiser for a local shelter. We were always doing something fun.

Delivering Christmas goodies to the neighbors

I was a teacher at the time, and one of my students was reading a newspaper aloud one day. The article was about an abused dog. Even though Jack and Bee weren’t rescues, I thought about the wonderful life they had and have only known love. This prompted me to do all I can do to be the voice for animals in need. As a result, the Voice for the Animals Campaign began. We host fundraisers and raise awareness for needy animals. I credit Jack and Bee and the others who helped then and throughout the years.

In 2009, Jason moved to Orlando for work. The boys and I stayed in Mobile for nearly a year to tie up loose ends. They kept me company. They made many trips to and from Orlando with me. We moved back to Fulton, and Jason moved to Bossier City, LA, a few years later. Again, they kept me company. Jason was living in Bossier City when my brother died tragically in a car accident. When I got home from the hospital that night, and from then on out, Jack, Bee, and the other animals provided me with love, comfort, company, and companionship.

Daddy's boy

Jack loved us and we loved him, but he was a Daddy’s boy. He and Jason sat in the chair and watched tv. I cannot sit still, so I am always up doing something. I think I moved around too much for him. Jack loved toys, socks, playing, going for walks, taking naps, and eating cat poop. He also loved Bee.

Although he has been getting older and whiter, he has been doing well. He is slower and can’t hear as well, but he has been well. He has never liked getting out of the bed. I say that he reminds me of my brother in that regard. When I got up to go to the gym this morning, I knew that Jack needed some encouragement in getting up. When I pulled back the covers and touched him, I knew that he was gone. I am still in shock. He has been fine, as I said, so it has come as a shock. I’m not 100% at 4am, so I moved him, handled the other animals, and went to the gym. Jason and I are no longer married, but we get along. I drove to Jason’s office this morning to tell him in person. We cried, laughed, and reminisced about Jack. My dad and I have plans to make a nice grave for him next to Pearl and Buck later today.

Trooper, Pearl, Jack, Bee

I think they look like a heart

Someone saw Jack a few months ago and asked about his age. They also asked how long I was going to keep him. I was appalled because pets are for life. It has never crossed my mind to “get rid of” them for any reason. They have been there with me through the hardest times of my life, and also some of the best. Pets are for life.

The last couple of photos I took of Jack

Life without Jack will be an adjustment for me and for Bee. I know that Bee will grieve. Bee has been with Jack his whole life. They do everything together, including share a crate when I’m gone. I will be there for him just as he was for me when my brother died. We will be sad, too, but the joy that Jack brought us by far trumps the sadness that comes with his passing. He was 16, and I had him almost 16 years to the date.

My Brother, Jared

 

27th birthday cake, probably Mama's red velvet

On this day 37 years ago, my little brother, Jared, was born. I was 3.5. I don’t know if I remember it, or if I just remember seeing pictures from that day. I’ve read that siblings are your first friends and the ones with which you spend the most time. That was true in our case. We grew up in a wonderful neighborhood and across the street from our paternal grandmother and great-grandmother. We spent summers there and went there after school until our parents were home from work. We probably put a million miles a piece on our bikes, and even more on our Hot Wheels collections. We watched TV, played dominos with our grandmothers and their friends, played with Legos, our dogs, video games, in the log yard, sports, you name it.

Jared as a child

 We had an especially good time when I got my license because I drove us to and from school. We listened to our favorite CDs and had deep talks. When I moved away to college, Jared said the only thing he didn’t miss about me was my long hair being everywhere. Later when I was married, my then husband (Jason) said he could relate to that! We always had a good time at our parents’ when I came home to visit.

Jared and me at Talladega, 2003

 In 2009, we moved back to Fulton and into my late grandmother’s house two doors down from our parents. This was definitely a God-send, as it allowed me to spend Jared’s last years with him. He worked shift work, so he spent a lot of time at my house and at my parents’ house when he was off. We would eat breakfast there on the weekends, help each other with yard work, watch TV, cook/eat, etc. It was nothing for me to get home from school to see that my lawn had been manicured, or to be cutting my grass and see Jared on his lawn mower behind me. I was a teacher at the time, and he would text me on the first day of school every year to wish me a good day and year. He could imitate a dove. He would park in his spot at our parents’ and make the sound. This was not the pleasant cooing sound, but the sick crow sound, lol. When I heard it, I never knew if it was him or an actual bird. Now, I feel his presence when I hear the doves make that sound.

Jared and his lifelong friend, Ben

Jared was an avid outdoorsman. He loved hunting doves, deer, ducks, and turkeys. I believe his favorite was bass fishing, though, in addition to just being on the river and sometimes "communicating" with catfish, I've heard. They say that scent is the strongest sense tied to memory. Every time I get a whiff of a bream bed, I immediately think of him and our family fishing at the pond in Fulton or on the river, as we did so many times. A student of mine once saw his picture on  my desk and recognized him as "the man who brought snuff and fish" to his grandmother in the apartment complex where Jared worked part time as the maintenance man. We learned that Jared would catch and clean fish for some of the elderly ladies who lived there. That makes me proud. 

Jared's wedding

Jason moved to Louisiana to work, so Jared spent even more time with me. We really had some deep conversations then. We often discussed traits that we inherited from each parent, our similarities and differences, and common traits we shared, but didn’t get from either parent. He also told me who to contact for certain things if anything ever happened to him. Although Jared was smart, successful, and responsible, he was also reckless. My biggest fear was that he would die in a car accident.

 On October 20, 2014, two days before my birthday, Jared died in a single vehicle crash. It wasn’t intentional, but I think he knew he would die young. A series of his friends called me and, after paying their respects, said “Jared told me if anything ever happened to him to call you and say x.” That was interesting to me. Some of his best friends were acquaintances of mine, but they really stepped up to be there for me, and I now consider them among my best of friends as well.

Jared's class has been amazing to us. They purchased this brick at school.

 Within minutes of “coming to” after hearing the news, I immediately realized that life is too short. That is how Jared lived. He didn’t care what people thought, he wasn’t fake, he had fun, he did nice things for people, he didn’t sweat the small stuff, and he made sure his family and friends knew he loved them. In addition to changing from the grief, seeing that life is too short has changed me. Life is too short to not be happy. Not only did I realize this, but I live it. I have moved from education to the car business, which I love, gotten a divorce, and stopped going to traditional church. I attend monthly Bible studies with likeminded individuals and an amazing leader and friend. I didn’t know it until a few years ago, but my mom says I’m “different.” I now embrace that knowingly.

 I have learned so much from Jared after his death, and I want to be like him. I want to be the loyal friend he was. I want to help people like he did with no recognition. He had done tremendous things for people, but we were unaware until they told us after his passing. I want to be a person who lives like there is no tomorrow, who doesn’t care what people think. It has been my experience that no longer caring what people think is not a decision, but a place where you arrive mentally. I have arrived, it is so freeing. He would also say that people are going to talk about you regardless, so don’t worry about them and do what makes you happy.

Some of my favorite photos of him

 I am so proud to say that I am Jared Daniels’s sister. Until I die, I will do whatever it takes to preserve his legacy. I will strive to be the kind of friend he was. I will let his friends who are now mine know how much they mean to me and are loved and appreciated. Those shoes will never be filled, but I will do my best to make my brother as proud as he makes me.