What do you know about your family’s history and culture?

The short answer, not much. The long answer, we’ve been so very wrong about our culture in the past. Ever since I was little my family swore we are from German descent. With very little proof to go on, we all kind of just accepted that. A couple of years ago my sister took one of those DNA tests to get to the bottom of it. We’re British. Like, hardcore drinking tea and waving to the queen British. And you know what? That makes a whole lot of sense.

It’s always so interesting to me how you can just go through your life not really knowing your history. I only know the names of my grandparents’ parents and not much else beyond that. There have been attempts by distant cousins to trace our lineage, but without much success. But even more interestingly, I’m not that curious to know more. I’m not sure why but I’ve never felt that pull to know if we came over on the Mayflower of if we’re related to some famous person in history. I’ve always been a “live in the now” person and that information won’t really change what life is like these days. I’ve never been that curious.

I have, however, always been enviable of people who have heirlooms or documentation of their family history. I think I’m more interested in the artifacts rather than knowing who my great, great, great, aunt was. Yet I document my life like a crazy person. What a conundrum…

This post is part of a 31 day writing prompts series I’m doing. Find all the prompts in this blog post.

Take the title of the last song you listened to and make it your post title. Write for a minimum of 10 minutes.

Alex and I are celebrating 8 years together in just a couple of days. We’ll be celebrating our 4th marriage anniversary in a month. This post is going to be about him.

It’s not unknown to me that Alex and I have a weird relationship. We’ve been inseparable for those eight years together and still seem to be in the honeymoon phase of being obsessed with each other. Sure we have our disagreements, but even amidst one of our silly fights, we crave being next to each other. Like, “I’m going to be mad at you, but stay in the room, ok?” I think there’s a post coming about how we met, so I’ll save that story for then and focus more about our relationship now.

Most of you know that Alex and I work together, at home, full time. We joke ask each other if we’re talking to business version or spouse version of each other. Yet I never tire of him. I think he never tires of me either because he’s constantly asking if he can pull me behind his kayak just so we can spend more time together (we recently did this and it was the true definition of luxury).

During quarantine and the weird times that are now our lives, we’ve been working harder to develop hobbies and interests that aren’t so intertwined. Mostly to give us something new to talk about. I’ve restarted my daily yoga practice and Alex kayaks just as often. I still get excited when I hear the door open after one of his kayaking trips. It’s like he’s been gone for months and I can’t wait to hear all about his adventures. The same is true when I come back from a social distancing evening with my friends. Alex is all ears.

I know that this isn’t the norm. That if I had to define soul mates it would look something like this. Every day we wake up and choose each other all over again. Through our faults, my infuriating stubbornness to not try new things, and his never-ending desire for a powered parachute. We aren’t perfect, but I think we’re perfect together.

We recently were guests on a podcast and we touch on a lot of what I wrote about today. If you happen to be interested, here’s the podcast.

This post is part of a 31 day writing prompts series I’m doing. Find all the prompts in this blog post.

Begin a story with the phrase, “And it was in that moment I knew I wouldn’t get to finish my piece of cake.” 

And it was in that moment I knew I wouldn’t get to finish my piece of cake. Time slowed as the grey tabby, Whiskers to his acquaintances, leapt onto the table, scattering party hats and clawing into the themed tablecloth. Eyes wide with panic, Whiskers scurried past fellow party guests with forks frozen half-way to their mouths, making his frantic way straight towards me. I gulped down what would be my last bite of cake as Whiskers’s front paws made contact with the artfully decorated piece of cake in front of me. Now coated with buttercream frosting, Whiskers launched himself directly at me, knocking me and my chair backward as he transferred frosting and scratches onto my flesh. A birthday gift I most definitely did not ask for.

Across the room, Bobby stood frozen in the doorway with a used party popper in hand and an “Oh, shit” expression on his face.

This post is part of a 31 day writing prompts series I’m doing. Find all the prompts in this blog post.

If you could permanently ban a word from use, which one and why?

I’m going to skip over the obvious racial slurs and derogatory terms for this one and look to something more unconventional because those types of words just shouldn’t be used anyway. If I were to eliminate a word from use, I would choose ‘whom.’ Because what the heck?! Who works perfectly well and ’ whom’ is just a confusing word that when people know it, they lord it over you if you mess up. I’m a firm believer that ‘their,’ ‘there,’ and ‘they’re’ should be used properly, but ‘whom’ is just unnecessary nonsense.

There are enough confusing words out there (‘right’ and ‘write’ I’m looking at you) that we can just eliminate this one…for the good of the people.

This post is part of a 31 day writing prompts series I’m doing. Find all the prompts in this blog post.

Write a letter to your mom. Tell her something you’ve always wanted to say, but haven’t.

Dear Mom,

The funny thing is I know you’ll most likely actually read this post, which adds more pressure to write something good. No hypothetical letters to moms here. But I’m grateful for the constant, unwavering interest you take in my hobbies and passions. Not everyone is so lucky to have a parent deeply invested in what they have to say or what they’ve created.

I want to talk about dad. About how your strength poured into the gaps and holes he left behind to keep our family together. I always think about how I lost my father, but you lost your husband. Your companion. The guy who frustrated you most of the time but everyday you chose him. That’s an unimaginable loss that I hope to never have to experience (I’m going first Alex). You don’t hide your sadness, but you don’t let it consume you. You push on, make lists, and work through the emotions straight on. You will always be known for your strength. 

I’ve never told you that it’s ok not to be strong all the time. Trust me, I know that feeling all too well and want you to know that you won’t be seen as weak in your daughters’ eyes for being vulnerable. Our tiny little family has got your back.

I pride myself in our family’s ability to remain close, connected, and friends. And that’s largely because of your efforts to keep it that way. So thank you.

I don’t say it enough, but I love you with all of my heart.

Kayla

This post is part of a 31 day writing prompts series I’m doing. Find all the prompts in this blog post.