Self-portraits aren't easy with a manual focus 50mm, I'll tell ya that
When my boyfriend and I went out for our belated valentine's dinner on Friday night, I had no idea that he put in a note for our reservation that we were also celebrating my acceptance to the PhD program. Only thing is I hadn't heard back yet (and even if I had, there was no guarantee of that their decision was in my favor). So of course my jaw dropped when the waitress came by with two champagne glasses and a "congratulations" when I was still waiting on that darned email. Well, the email came in as I was walking out of class this afternoon. Y'all. God took my dreams and made them bigger than I could have ever imagined. I'M GETTING MY PhD IN NURSING. I am overwhelmed with joy. I have the opportunity to be a person of influence in my profession by delving further into end-of-life care; my hope is that our elders will not only live well, but die well also. This is a place not many are willing to go, but I'm going to pave the way in faith-- after all, the One who gave me these dreams has already gone before me.
Cheers to the freakin’ weekend 🍷✨
I’m not ready to leave the place I now realize is home. Took 4 years to call it that, but hey. Better late than never. 💕
There’s something to be said for spending a little extra time on yourself when you’re feeling low. (not pictured: winged eyeliner that is “perf”) ☀️🌼
I took a little longer getting ready this morning. I added a hint of gold glitter to my winged eyeliner, went with lipstick instead of lip balm, and decided that my ponytail must be curled. I am now sipping on a decaf americano at my local coffee shop. I thought spending a little more time on my hair and makeup would help distract from the pain of losing a loved one. My grandmother was readmitted to the hospital last night. She was unconscious, with only deep pain responses; she is on a morphine drip for comfort. I researched cross-cultural conceptions of a “good death” and preferences for end-of-life care for a psychology seminar last semester. At the time, my only connection to hospice was journal articles. This morning, however, my mother used it in the same sentence as my grandmother’s name. I share a name with my grandmother, although my parents didn’t name me after her– they just liked the name. But I like that we are both Elizabeth’s, and that when I look in the mirror, I see that I have her cheeks. I always hoped that I would age with the elegance and grace that she has. I have never seen her without her fake eyelashes or pearls, and that is the grandmother I hold dear to my heart. I believe that the Lord will bring her Home today, on Easter Sunday. This life may be coming to a close, but the minute she takes her last breath on earth will also be the minute she takes her first breath in Heaven. It brings me great peace to know that she will spend eternity in the presence of God, who will not only resurrect her weary body and soul to new life, but also restore our grieving hearts. I asked my father if I would be able to call her, just to say “I love you.” He’s on his way back to California so that he can be by her side, even though she neither awake nor aware. This is what he told me: “She’s sedated and I don’t know how she’ll be today. You can tell her that you love her through prayer. Our Lord has a direct connection with her and us.” I love you, grandma.