Stamping Up

"And on this very large estate lived a small girl. And life was pleasant there and very, very simple. But, then one day, the girl grew up and went beyond the walls of the grounds and found the world."

And today that girl is me and I am her. It feels scary to be an adult, responsibilities and all. But I am so happy that a little tear came to my eye. I opened my own Etsy store today! My profile name is Amy Sarene and my shop name is From: Francis and Evelyn. Those are my parent's middle names. Adam thought of the 'from' part because I am their literal offspring. It's was also fun to expand on that more and use that as a springboard for my theme. My shop will have a vintage stamp/letter/postcard theme. The theme echoes back to my love of stamps. My interest was first piqued when my Father showed me his stamp collection, I believe when I was a teenager. I didn't think too much about it then. In 2007, I had the privilege of living in Virginia during the 400th anniversary of Jamestown. My family came out from Phoenix and we went to the historical sites together. It was one of our best family trips. I bought some Jamestown stamps as souvenirs, not thinking much about them. It was the popular choice- I think Liisa and my Mom were buying some too. I am glad I listened to them! I have learned they are usually always right ;) So I bought the stamps. Then, a few years ago, I asked my Dad about his stamp collection. I think it came to my mind because of my divorce. My ex husband was a pretty crappy Priesthood holder, and I often thought about my Father during my marriage. My Dad was a sort of gauge for me because he treated my Mother and my sister and I so well. So needless to say, growing up and still to this day, I look up to my Father. I respect him and love him so much. I think I wanted to have a piece of him, a way of connecting with him after he left this earth. Even thought I haven't touched the stamp collection much, I keep it safe. I know one day I will be ready to dive into that project and start the process of becoming a stamp collector. For now, I have my Dad and my whole family. That's what matters to me. Living in the now.

And please don't judge me. I woke up at 4am this morning. I am sure there are hideous typos. And let's face it- any 6th grade child who spells 'solve' wrong is bound to get a few words wrong.

Amy xoxo

My past is where I come from and my future is where I am going

In order to know me, you must know my parents.
My Dad, the genius. His whit is charming and always makes me laugh- even when no one else thinks he's funny. I do. He is calm on the outside and a ticking clock on the inside. My Mom, the go-getter. She is always right, always dreaming, always accomplishing. She cries to know her daughters are happy and weeps when they are not.
My past does not dictate who I am today but it does define much of who I am. I am grateful for all of my struggles for I do not wish to be that naive girl anymore. I relish in those struggles because I view them as triumphs. I am ready to tell my story. The fear I once had talking about my story isn't fear anymore, it's a feeling of freedom- of letting go. I am inching along another cliff. This one is the highest one I've climbed before. It's when I took a leap into the rabbit hole. It's like lighting a candle. You're playing with fire but in the end, you know your candle will be lit. You will light that wick even if it's a stub! You must. You did. And no one can blow out your fire.

Amy xoxo

A bowling ball

A few months ago I started having dreams about a baby. I didn't tell anyone at first because they weren't frequent and well, I am 27 and not married- these dreams couldn't possibly be about MY future child. I instantly knew it was about my sister. I was sure of it then. I went to the temple last month and had a unique experience there. I vaguely expressed what had happened to Adam because the experience was so foreign and abstract to me. Not that babies are necessarily foreign, they are a little, but I mean to say that the experience in that moment in the temple was very abstract and wasn't clearly expressed to me so how could I in turn express that experience to another? I don't think I was necessarily meant to. But again, I felt like something was whispering to me of a future child to come into my life. I immediately thought of my sister.

The idea of me having children is always something I have suppressed in order to pursue other things. Not to say having children is not a worthy goal- something I know I will be able to achieve in this life or the next and I will be joyed! Of course I want to be a mother, I have never seen my life deviating from that course. But I always pictured myself having kids later on in life. And I was right! Let's face it, I'm not having a kid when I'm 27- it could be possible at age 28. By my standards, I am feeling great about where I am at as far as my age and not having kids quite yet.

I had another baby dream last night. I was at the SLC airport but in the parking garage under The Gateway mall. Every turn into another row of parking revealed a black sign with white writing above the row of vehicles. Every turn of my vehicle (I was in a truck) revealed my last name with the number two next to it. It was like crossing a cattle guard and having the sign reveal how many people in the vehicle there were. Two. But there was only me? I remember parking and exiting and my Mom came to me. She put both of her hands on my belly. I looked down and saw I was extremely pregnant. But it took my Mother acknowledging my status to clue me in to this fact. Two.

Amy xoxo

Local collector

You have no idea how many started posts I have in my queue waited to be posted... a lot. For a time I needed to stay inside myself. The only person I can work on is myself but I still hope I can inspire others with my experiences. Yes, it may be true that each of us have a distorted image of ourselves- we think our lives are more interesting than they really are. Everyone has an opinion and that's what makes this world so great- that we all have our agency to think, feel and act how we want to. But that's what I am doing now, writing because I would rather act than be acted upon. I feel what I share may not be important 100% of the time, but 5% is good enough for me. And really, why do some of us keep personal journals? Sometimes it's not for anyone else to see. Sometimes we just need to write.

The sound of crunching rocks beneath my Dad's feet has been a sound I've come to recognize since I was little. Every morning without fail, my Father would get out of bed at an awful hour of the morning to deliver newspapers. His footsteps would sound as he walked across the rocks... A handful of times I thought it would be fun to go to work with him... you can imagine how disappointed I was at my discovery that a paper-route wasn't fun. More than that disappointment, that was when I started to discover just how much my Father sacrificed for our family- for me. To this day his lack of sleep all of those years has stolen valuable pieces of him which he cannot get back. It's a reminder to me every time he forgets something or has trouble putting a simple sentence together. My Father is a genius. I can only imagine his frustration with himself now in his older years. But to me, he will always be my hero.

I was recently reminded of his sacrifice by the sound of crunching rocks underneath our feet together. It was our last walk together and coincidentally, it was the last few minutes of our walk on our way home. I never feel like Phoenix is my home anymore, but my home is where my family is. That is where I feel like myself- that is where I feel like a whole person more than ever. And as nice as it is to walk with my family beside me, they have all given me the strength to go on by myself.

I know I have posted this before, but it is one of my favorite pieces:

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I marked the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

-Robert Frost

"The Road Not Taken"

Amy xoxo