It was summer of 2009, and I had been invited to attend my now brother and sister-in-law’s wedding in Rosemary Beach, Florida. I would be going as the girlfriend of the brother of the groom, and I was thrilled. I loved a wedding, I loved a beach, and the families were fun, so it was an easy yes. Actually, I’m not so sure I didn’t just go ahead and invite myself.

With the New Year upon us, many are embarking on a wellness journey, enrolling in fitness classes and eating healthier to kick start ourselves into what society convinces us will be a “healthier you”. One of my favorite things to do is yoga- particularly hot yoga. I joke that I cannot stand to be without the dense humidity of the South for one minute, so I have to find it in all areas of my life. The truth is, I love the feeling of sweating out all the harsh toxins I absorb on the regular while stretching out my aging bones and muscles. For me, it works miracles, but to each his own.

It was 2002, and I was going to go on my first snow skiing trip to ring in the New Year of 2003 with my college boyfriend and friends. We were headed to Aspen, Colorado, for a weeklong stay with a local someone knew, and we were thrilled. However, I was going with avid skiers, and it being my first time, I would spend the first few days in ski school by myself. I didn’t mind and was simply excited to try something I had wanted to do my entire life.

I was having a conversation the other day with a friend about the worst Christmas gifts we ever received. It was quite entertaining. After our discussion, I started thinking about the topic more and more. The first memory I have of a bad Christmas present was not actually one I received, but one that my older brother was given. I must have been around three years old at the time. In fact, I think the only other memories I have from three years old are when we moved to a rental house before finding my childhood home and chasing fireflies in the back yard, but I do distinctly remember this one.

When Southerners are expecting a child, many of the first questions that come to mind are related to what said child will be named. Now, keep in mind, there is a difference in what the child may be named and what the child may be called, but regardless, here are some examples of the top questions that usually come up:

My husband was lucky enough to grow up on a farm, on the edge of the heart of Nashville, Tennessee. He had around twenty four acres to explore during his childhood, a river that backed up to the land and allowed him to fish on those lazy summer days, and a plethora of farm animals to keep him company. Now, with all that land comes a lot of upkeep. As my father in law worked with a business that was open seven days a week/ twenty- four hours a day, he did not have the luxury of doing the upkeep himself. Through the years, he and his wife hired a cast of characters to outsource the work needed to keep up the place.

It was early September, sometime around the mid-2000s. I had ventured up further north than I ever had been, to New York City, for a visit with my dear college friend, Abby. She had recently moved to be with her then boyfriend, now husband, as he started his illustrious professional football career. I was in my mid-twenties and was thrilled to be going to the bustling city for the first time in my life- to see all the things I had only been able to look at through my television and in magazines.

It was late fall in 2007. I had returned to my college town of Oxford, Mississippi, to attend an engagement party for two dear friends. It was going to be the party of all engagement parties, as the couple had been very popular and well known throughout their college career, and other than sporting events, there wasn’t that much to do in the tiny town at that time.