a month full of memories


August is a big month for lots of people. August brings the end of summer and the freedom that comes with it, August is the beginning of school and when we start to think about what we’d like to do for the holidays that are only a few months away. For me, August is a month filled with so many memories.

Growing up at a church camp, August meant that my family and I would no longer be surrounded by people every single day. It meant no more doing dishes, no more cleaning bathrooms, and may brothers and I would finally get to spend more time with our parents where their thoughts weren’t on other peoples children.
August is the month of my both my brothers birthdays, as well as my dad’s. They are all within a week, so that always meant a week of constant fun growing up.
It also brings the anniversary of my dad’s death. Although I don’t see him as the hero I once did, I am forever happy with the person he and his decisions helped mold me to be.
August will forever mean football two-a-days at Tulane. Even though every single boy who’s laundry I washed has graduated, I still can’t help but adore that squad.
It brings the days that I dropped out of college for good. Quitting football managing the year before due to all of the stress that the Meredith haters brought meant that I could no longer afford to go to school. Maybe I’ll go back to school one day to get a degree, but first I have to give Tulane University a large chunk of money to even get access to my transcript.
And it’s the month that I lost my virginity. A drunk decision that led to a a whole lot of adventures and a love that was way different then one would actually get in the bedroom of a boy from a bar.

Every year in August, I get overwhelmed with that stress that comes with the “what if” thoughts. This year the stress was intensified by other factors, which means that there was a whole lot of crying. Usually I handle stress with long walks and furiously making lists while watching movies from my childhood, but this year was too busy to allow for those things. So I was forced to address the “what if” thoughts. I had to let myself cry, even if it meant crying in front of other people. And I decided that it was time to truly book a trip to the place where so many of the memories happened. In part to see if the magic that I felt when I was in New Orleans is still there, in part to murder some former devils.

Sure, there’s a lot of people who looking at my life see a giant mess. There are days where I 100% agree. But now I’m trying to find the beauty that the chaos brings. The question is, does that mean I have to invite more chaos in?

{please note that I write from the heart and that there might be a few grammatical errors. those are just part of the true energy.}