when I look back on last year’s ‘a letter to 2018′ I have no choice but to smile and be SO GRATEFUL for that GOOD year.
because this year was very, very different. without further ado, I give you:
A Letter to 2019
Dear 2019,
On this past December 31st, I stayed up until midnight for the sole purpose of watching the life drain from your existence.
I was committed to watching you breathe your last breath, and sending you on your way.
Why?
Because you were the heaviest, most emotionally challenging year of my life.
You stole from me, you shook me till my bones rattled, you stretched me until I barely recognized myself any more.
But for all the grief, uncertainty, and tears wept — I thank you.
You taught me that just because it hurts doesn’t mean its bad.
You showed me it is so much better to have loved, be loved, and lost, than not at all.
You proved to me that the house won’t fall if the bones are good.
With gratitude,
Sarah
We started the year with our second Women’s March in San Luis Obispo:
Later in January we started a new tradition: escaping to a cabin off the grid — no cell service, no wifi.
Intentionally starting our year being present with one another.
The week after we returned home from the snow, my life was turned upside down when I unexpectedly had to say goodbye to one of my best friends, my Nanna.
The room smelled of lavender oil, her great-grand-children’s laughter echoed off the walls, and softly sung hymns hung above her bed. Hardly a moment passed without both her hands being clasped by her loved ones. And just before 7pm, not minutes after Josiah arrived straight from work, she breathed her last breath. As if she were waiting for her last grandchild to have the chance to say goodbye. More than 10 of us surrounded her bed and sang her into heaven with her anthem, “Amazing Grace.”
How did I get so lucky? To have known a love as great as hers? She was a presence in my life for as long as I can remember — from sleepovers to piano recitals in my youth, to Yosemite road trips and bedroom picnics watching The Voice in my more recent years. I don’t have a single bad memory of her. She taught me about God’s love, about the importance of family, that I can achieve anything if I work hard enough. She was my first and only business investor — I’ll never forget the day I dropped out of college and came to her asking for a loan to buy a nicer camera so I could become a wedding photographer. She looked me up and down and said, “You show me a business plan, and I’m on board.” She never once doubted my greatness. Her legacy of generosity and unconditional love for every stray that wandered into her home lives on through every one of her offspring. Forever.
About a month after my first real encounter with Grief, we already had plans to go to Disneyland for Phoenix’s 3rd birthday.
So we went.
Then came Phoenix’s actual birthday, where we celebrated her 3 trips around the sun with a small party.
As always, we celebrated another year as a family of 3 with a photo session by my work-wife, Lindsey Gomes 🙂
With the spring came wildflower adventures…
Along with the 5th Linden Clover Workshop — Stargazer Edition!!!
Where my belly was filled and my heartstrings were pulled.
We took Phoenix to her first drive-in movie experience. She stayed awake through BOTH films — Dumbo & Captain Marvel:
Then came a turn of the season — the Spring Equinox — which was celebrated with a feast and flower crowns.
In May, we said “see you later” to my Nanna’s caregiver, Vicki (who also took care of my great-grandmother), with one final dinner at Nanna’s house before it went up for sale.
Mother’s Day <3
Then it was up in the air to visit our friends in Ohio:
Summer time brought a spontaneous and much-needed staycation at the Skyview Motel.
We celebrated the Summer Solstice with our 15th Live Oak Music Festival:
Summer also brought Phoenix’s first real swim lessons.
They didn’t go so well.
Toy Story 4 at the movie theater:
Fourth of July:
Then it was off to Squaw Valley for the annual Fagan Family Vacation (a trip I’ve been taking since I was 4 years old):
Then came the Midstate Fair — a place we go solely for this photo strip (and maybe a fried cheese on a stick. or two):
July 18th marked 11 years of being married to THIS guy. I’m going to be honest: this year has tested our marriage like nothing else. We came up against mental health and childhood trauma in a painful force. But we are DOING THE WORK, and can safely say that we’re still standing.
August brought my childhood best friend’s 29th birthday, and (another) staycation at The Madonna Inn:
And also Josiah’s 30th birthday (!!!), with a surprise getaway to Seattle. Just the two of us (our first trip away from Phoenix together).
When I asked him if he wanted to be surprised, or if he wanted to know so he could look forward to it, I said “It’s no big thing, I’m just taking you to breakfast.” And then showed him the restaurant. You see, ever since we first had breakfast at Portage Bay in 2014, we’ve joked about flying to Seattle ‘just for breakfast’. And so we did (but then stayed 2 nights).
Days after we got home, Phoenix started PRESCHOOL. She walked into her classroom, waved goodbye, and announced “I here!” to her teachers and classmates.
That same day, my dear friend Lindsey Gomes came over to photograph us in our home, which we would be leaving the following week. With my dad retiring this coming spring, my parents had decided to follow their dreams and spend their next chapter living by the sea. Things moved a lot faster than we all expected, and by summer time, they had bought a new home in Morro Bay and invited us to come rent my childhood home in Atascadero. It’s been the most bittersweet of transitions: leaving the house we made a home over the past 8 years, the house we brought both our puppies and our baby home to, the house she took her first steps in, the house we had made a safe space in the midst of hardship, grief, and all the life shit. I will treasure these photos forever.
And so we said goodbye to that house, and hello to this one.
For Halloween, Phoenix asked to be “a witch”. I asked her “which witch?”, and she replied “Hocus Pocus.” And so I spent hours piecing together the perfect Mary Sanderson costume, because LOVE. Come Halloween, when we were getting ready, she comes out of her room in her woody costume from last year and says, “I be Woody better.” So this will be known as the year I swore to “never hand-make a halloween costume ever again.”
November brought my 31st birthday:
Which I celebrated with ALL THE SELF CARE. First stop: a day at the spa with my BFF, Bri:
Next stop, a trip to the oasis I discovered last year for my 30th birthday, Two Bunch Palms, with Quinny. I am a water sign on the cusp of a fire sign — it’s like these hot springs in the desert were designed JUST FOR ME.
For Thanksgiving, my clan gathered beneath the redwoods of Big Sur. It may have been freezing cold and rained half the time, but there is no one I’d rather face the elements with than these crazies.
Before we all sat down for Thanksgiving dinner, we buried some of Nanna’s ashes at the base of a baby redwood grove in the center of our campsite (the same site we get every year), so a piece of her can forever be a part of our Thanksgiving tradition.
December brought the winter solstice, my favorite of the seasonal turns. Though yes, I am an autumn lover through and through, the coming of Winter symbolizes a time of rest and hibernation, of turning inward while we await the return of the sun.
And of course, CHRISTMAS.
For the entirety of our marriage we have hosted a Christmas Eve soup dinner for family, friends, and misfits alike. This was the first year Phoenix donned an apron and helped in the kitchen. I feel so lucky to be her mom, and to be tasked with teaching her virtues like generosity, hospitality, and the love language of feeding people.
Over Christmas time, my dad’s entire side of the family came from all over the country to gather on our coast. Having my 97 year old Grammy (here from Florida) meant more than words can say, on this first Christmas without my Nanna.
And seeing Phoenix and her cousin Knox together was surreal, as they are about the same difference in age as Knox’s dad (my cousin, Christian) and myself.
In 2019, we drank a lot of tea and read a lot of books:
Learned new things:
Took to the street corner with a friend and our daughters when our country was hurting:
Enjoyed every rainy day:
Played a lot of dress up:
Worked my ass off and documented dozens of magical wedding days:
Found myself in a lot of foliage:
Kept singing and playing music with the big brother I never had, Jeremy (photos by, who else, Lindsey Gomes):
Learned the IMPORTANCE OF FAMILY:
Drank in as much salty ocean air as possible:
Watched my daughter sleep. A lot.
… And just be all together AMAZING:
Was inducted into the “parents who are obsessed with their kid’s school picture” club (I GET IT NOW):
Watched this guy be the best dad ever, despite spending the whole year fighting some serious demons and dealing with the deepest of childhood wounds:
And I guess I did alright as a mom, too:
I started the year with my feet in the earth, grounded as could be.
Shortly after, I waded through the waters of loss and grief.
Summer time brought an unexpected fire that brought down walls and burned some of what I thought I knew to ash.
It ended with a windstorm, whispering promises of transformation and invigoration.
I don’t know what lies ahead, but I do know that I’m strong as hell and there’s nothing I can’t face.
