My Mom

*For whatever reason, my scanner isn't working today... so I haven't been able to upload all of the pictures for this post yet. I promise I'll add them as soon as I can.

Today is my mother's birthday. That's right, my mom's a Leap Year baby.

In the past, I've written a couple of blog posts about my family... a special Father's Day post for my dad, a wedding day post for my little brother, and of course, the tributes to my grandparents following their Christmas day accident.

In each of those blogs, I included little bits of information about my mother. But, up to this point, I really haven't shared that much about her.

That may seem odd... as if I'm neglecting my mom, or placing the rest of my family above my mom, or just have nothing good to say about my mom. In reality, nothing could be further from the truth.

To be honest... over the last year, I've made several attempts to write something about my mom. Today is just the first time I clicked Publish.

But why?? Doesn't make much sense, does it? If she's as wonderful as I say she is, then why can't I just write about her??

Well... it's hard to explain, but here's the deal: when I try to find the right words to describe my mother... I fail -miserably. Every single time.

I'm sure that today will be no different. I'm sure I won't do her justice. I'm sure it'll seem as if I just threw some crap together, in some half-assed "Happy Birthday" attempt.

Regardless, I'm going to try anyway, because my mom deserves to have a special post written about her. She means everything to me, more than I could ever put into words... and more than she could ever know...

So... here goes. I'd like to introduce you to the woman I call "Mom." 

My mother is --hands-down-- the most giving, selfless person I know. She is loving. She is patient. She is kind. 

She's honest, loyal, and sincere. She's compassionate, understanding, and forgiving. She's nurturing, thoughtful, and generous. She's wise, humble, and inspiring.

She's the kind of mom that everyone wishes they had... but very few people get. The kind of mom that makes everything okay... just because she's your mom. The kind of mom who was born to be a mom... to be my mom. 

And the kind of mom that I certainly don't deserve.

Even now... as I write these words... I can feel that I'm failing again. My mom is so much more than this...

She's more than just an amazing mom... she's an incredible human being. She gives everything to everyone else, and takes nothing for herself. She needs no credit... and asks for nothing in return. While she doesn't have to do these things, she chooses to do them anyway. If it's the right thing to do, then my mom is going to do it. Honestly... that's just the kind of person she is...  

Mom has the rare ability to see the good in every person, and in every situation. She's level-headed and realistic, but positive and optimistic. When the world turns upside down, my mom still sees the light. And even though she may sometimes worry...  I swear you'd never know it. In her heart, she truly believes that everything will be okay.
And even in your darkest moments... she'll make you believe the same.

Maybe I was gifted with some of her best traits, but my mom still blows me out of the water. I've only become the person I am today... because my mom taught me how to be that way. But no matter how hard I may try... I could never compare to the genuine goodness that pours from my mother's heart. She's the very best person I know... and anyone who knows her would agree with me.

Beyond that, she's an equally amazing mom. My mom is one of those all-knowing moms, but not in a "know-it-all" kind of way. Instead, she just knows stuff... in a non-threatening, non-showy kind of way. She knows how to be a mom, she knows her kids, and somehow, she knows pretty much everything else. If she doesn't know... she finds out. And then, guess what? Now, Mom knows that, too.

With any question, my mom has the right answer. With every issue... she's got the solution. Anytime I ask for help, my mom is right there to help me. She's always there to guide me... but she doesn't force the issue. She'll never promise to be right, and she'll never say, "I told you so..."

But... in the end... she did tell me so, and she was right. Sure, I can doubt her. I can challenge her. I can try to prove her wrong. But my mom knows stuff, and without her even trying to be, she's always freaking right.

While she doesn't want me to learn the hard way, she knows it's going to happen. So... she simply lends me her wisdom... but allows me make my own decisions, and my own mistakes.

When I don't take her advice, she's not mad, or disappointed, or frustrated with me. Instead, she supports me... whether she agrees with me or not. And then... when I fall, she's there for me... to help me pick up the pieces... to guide me back to where she tried to send me in the first place. 

Now that I think about it... it's actually pretty brilliant.

Mom knows tons of junk about life, but she also knows her kids. Some call it mother's intuition. I call it damn-near psychic. My mom has always known things about me, long before I ever told her about them. To be honest, she's so good at this... that it almost freaks me out a little... but in a comforting way. She's always managed to offer me the very advice I needed, before I'd ever mentioned the problem. To encourage me to go on, before I'd ever threatened to quit. To say the exact words I needed to hear... before I knew I needed to hear them.

In truth, she's the only mom on Earth that could've handled a child like me. Growing up, I was a total pain-in-the-ass, at least 90% of the time... especially during the teenage years, which were a real treat for my parents. (What can I say... it happens to the best of us.)

I was grounded more times than not --and for good reason. I broke all of their rules and did massive-amounts of stupid crap. If I could go back in time, I'd ground my ass, too.

Back then, I basically thought "my life was over" ...at least 7000 times. Of course, my Mom would attempt to comfort me, saying: "Ashley... I know you're upset right now, but I promise it will be okay, and you'll probably even laugh about this one day."

Ummm... doubt it!! Mom- this is soooo super-serious right now! Didn't you hear me?! My life is OVER!!! Obviously, in my mind, my mom couldn't grasp the severity of my "complex teenage struggles." Because --clearly-- my mother was born yesterday, as a full-grown-Mom-adult. Duh.

Looking back now, those "struggles" seem pretty ridiculous and hilarious. My life was never over. My problems were often trivial. That boyfriend was a total douchebag. Curfew didn't kill me. And drinking was 100% illegal.

If I'm being honest... I should probably still be grounded...

But somehow, even during those tough times, my mom knew just how to deal with me. While she didn't let me get away with things, she did allow me to make mistakes. She also knew how to teach me the important lessons, in the exact way I needed to be taught. She knew how to comfort me, to encourage me, and to challenge me in the right ways. She knew how to inspire me in the best ways.

And I'm not sure how or why... but no matter what I did, she always loved me through it.

Here's a classic Mom example:
On one of those I'm-being-a-massive-baby-over-something-so-damn-stupid days, I had a big fight with my mom, because I felt like she didn't understand me. Later, I came home to find a card on my dresser. The card had a dog on the cover... and my mother's handwriting inside. It simply said:

"I do understand you. I'm your mom."

That day, I tucked those words into my heart, where they've lived ever since. Really... nothing more true was ever written. I'm never alone. She does understand me. Of course she does... she created me. She's my mom. 

My mom brought me into this world... and she's also kept me here. She's saved my life more than once... in very real ways. I honestly wouldn't be here today, if not for my mother's love. I wouldn't be me today, if not for her. I wouldn't be much-of-anything today... if not for her.

She's the very best mom in the whole wide world, and for whatever reason, she's my mom. Every day of my life, I've been blessed to have a mom like that.

And every night...
As I close my eyes... 
I thank God for His belief... 
that I'm worthy of her.

Happy Birthday, Mom. I love you more than anything. See you tonight!
Love,
Ash

*Please make a special donation to Lucky Dog Rescue in honor of my mom's birthday! It would mean so much to her!

CLICK TO DONATE TO LUCKY DOG RESCUE!

Grandparents Update

My Gran, with my dad (left) & uncle (middle)

As many of you know, my grandparents were in a near-fatal car accident on Christmas day.

My grandfather was left with 9 broken ribs, a broken sternum, and a broken neck... amongst other injuries. My grandmother broke all of her ribs, as well as her sternum and her back. But the biggest concern for my Gran was the lack of function in her lungs and her heart. She was in critical condition... and it was truly life-threatening.

Here in Meridian, I felt terrified, alone, and helpless. With each text and phone call, my heart would stop... as I waited for an update from my family.

My brother, a 3rd-year medical student, was very honest with me about the reality of the situation. I asked him to tell me everything, from a medical standpoint, and from a brother standpoint. After he rambled-off some doctor jargon, he stopped, and said: "This is bad, Ashley. Really bad."

I responded, "I've worked it out for me to leave town. I'll be there tomorrow."

He said, "I just pray she makes it through the night."

My brother & I

I started sobbing... and tossing items into my suitcase. I sobbed even more, as I packed a black dress and black shoes... just in case.

That night, the night before I left town, my Gran's heart stopped beating while my family was in the room. Thankfully, the hospital was able to bring her back. But... that wasn't the last time they'd have to bring my Gran back to life...

The next morning, I headed toward north Alabama. I don't even remember my drive there, but I certainly remember arriving at the hospital. I pulled into the parking garage, took a deep breath... and headed for ICU.

ICU has strict hours for visitors, with only four, 20-minute visiting times per day. When I walked into the ICU waiting room, I was greeted with a big hug from my brother. Across the room, I saw my dad, who smiled when his eyes met mine. It was the first time he'd smiled since Christmas Eve.   

After I hugged Dad and the rest of my family, it was time to see my grandmother.

As I walked into my grandmother's hospital room, tears quickly filled my eyes. In the midst of all the tubes, monitors, and IVs... I saw her. My Gran. I stood next to the bed, picked up her hand, and said, "I'm here now, Gran."

She opened her eyes, looked up at me... and a gentle smile came across her face. Then, she mustered the words: "Who's watching your dogs, Ashley-Cakes?"

I said, "Don't worry, Gran. I made sure they're all taken care of... so I could be here with you."

Gran whispered, "I knew you would, darlin'."

I fought back tears, as I said, "I love you, Gran."

Gran gently squeezed my hand, and said, "I love you too, darlin'."

After my visit, I walked out of the room, wiped my tears, and said a silent prayer: "Please don't let that be our last 'I love you.'"

That night, I was visiting with my grandfather, when he asked me to gather the family together. When I got everyone into the room, he began to talk about the reality of Gran's situation... and the likelihood that she may not pull through this. He wanted us to know that he would try to stay strong... for us.

As he fought back tears... I fought back tears. But it turns out... my Granddad is much better at fighting tears than I am. Mine began streaming down my face. That's when I felt my dad's arm around my shoulders, and I turned to bury my face into his shirt.

We left the hospital and drove to my grandparents house to stay the night. I walked into their home, and looked around at all the smiling, happy, healthy pictures of my family. I just couldn't believe that my super-health-conscious, high-energy grandparents were suddenly so sick.

As I scanned the photos on the walls, I saw the photo of my grandparents on their visit with Mayor Rudy Giuliani. I saw them at the Presidential Inauguration. I saw them with presidents of major universities, famous football coaches, and famous players.

I smiled and thought, "Damn, my grandparents are cool."

Then, I quietly headed toward my favorite place in my grandparents' home: my dad's old bedroom. Dad's childhood room is like a time capsule... filled with... my dad. I guess that's why I love it so much.

On every visit to my grandparents' house, I find myself digging through my dad's old desk drawers. I'm slightly fascinated by the contents... old photos, letters, and report cards. No matter how many times I look through that desk, I find something new and super-freaking-cool each time.

His desk contains tons of photos of my dad throughout his life. In some of his childhood pictures, I could swear I'm looking at a photo of myself. In his college days, I could swear I'm looking at my brother.

My parents

But my favorite photos... are the ones that are ripped in half... with just my dad remaining. The other half of those pictures used to be an ex-girlfriend... before my mom got her hands on it. Back in college, Mom ripped that other chick out of every pic she could find. Those half-Dad pictures make me laugh out loud every single time I see them.

In some of the other drawers, I'll find a stack of sappy, old love letters from my mom to my dad... and I'm always touched by those. I guess it's just cool to "meet" my parents before I was even alive. My favorite line in those letters is: "I can't wait until we get married and have blonde-haired, blue-eyed children one day. One girl, one boy."  That one makes me smile... because my mom was wishing for me... years before I was born.

Next, I'll dig through some old report cards, which also makes me laugh, because they look like every report card my brother and I ever got: "Extremely smart, but unable to focus. Easily distracted. Talks too much."

Later, after I finished the raid on my dad's room, I walked back upstairs... so I could complete my next grandparents'-house-activity: looking through old photo albums. I just love looking through their cool old photos, so that's a must-do on every visit to their home. But also... that night, I welcomed any good distraction.

My dad started laughing, as I proceeded to make my usual mess, by pulling out every old photo album in the house, excited to look through them.

As I flipped through those pictures, I made my usual smart-ass remarks about the clothes: "Dad, seriously... what was up with men back in the day? Why in the world would any respectable man wear Daisy Dukes??"

For the rest of the night, my dad, my brother, and I sat and looked through photo albums together. We smiled. We laughed. We hugged. In the back of each of our minds, we were wondering if these old photos would soon be all we'd have left of my Gran. But even as we thought it... we never let ourselves believe it.

But then... sometime over the next few days, my Gran slowly started to improve. Her heart got a little better. Her lungs got a little stronger. And her spirit finally returned.

When her spirit returned... the fighter inside my grandmother returned. And she fought... to live... for us.

And that's just what she did. She lived.

I'm so thankful to tell y'all that my grandmother is fighting her way through this, and so is my grandfather. As I say those words, I can hear my grandfather's voice, reciting the special phrase I've been told all my life:

"You're an Owen. There's nothing an Owen can't do." ~ Tom Owen

*If you'd like to donate to Lucky Dog Rescue in my grandparents' honor, please click the link: http://luckydogrescueblog.blogspot.com/p/donate.html 

My Grandparents

My grandparents

I wouldn't be the person I am today... if not for my incredible family. I was blessed with 2 amazing parents, who each had 2 amazing parents of their own... also known as my grandparents.

These are the people who built the foundation. These are the people who helped me grow into the "me" you all know today. These are the people who've loved and supported me every single day of my life.

But yesterday... my world was shaken.

On their way to Christmas dinner, my dad's parents --my Gran and Granddad-- were in a terrible car accident. When another car pulled out in front of them, my grandparents' car was sent rolling through the woods. Later, they had to be cut-out of the car... which was wrapped around a tree.

The rest of my family spent Christmas day at the hospital... just waiting to hear something. Today, my grandparents are still in ICU.

But as you already know, I was here at Lucky Dog, working on Christmas day. And since my grandparents live more than 4 hours away from me... I wasn't able to be there with my family.

For most of the day, I was paralyzed by fear and helplessness. I worked; I cried; I paced; I cried; then I worked, paced, and cried some more. My heart was truly broken... because I couldn't be there for the people who have always been there for me.

My granddad and I

So, today, I thought I'd write a special post about my grandparents... who are two of the most inspiring, wonderful people I've ever known.

In their hometown, my grandparents are nothing-short of local celebrities. My grandfather, Coach Owen, is admired by every single person he's ever taught, coached, or even met. In the high school gym, there's a large mural on the wall... of my grandfather. A few years ago, his former players compiled a book of letters and sentiments for him called The Tom Owen Story, which included some special words written about my granddad by his friend, Coach Paul "Bear" Bryant. And the town even dedicated a day to him: Tom Owen Day.

My Gran and I

My grandmother has been named "Woman of the Year" in their town. In the many years she worked as an elementary school teacher, she managed to inspire every student she ever taught. My Gran also volunteers for several different charitable causes, like Meals on Wheels. This woman never meets a stranger, and honestly, she seems to know every person in town.

My grandparents have always been special to me, but I guess I never realized just how many others felt the same about them... until I went to college at the University of Alabama. When I'd meet someone from my grandparents' hometown, they'd excitedly say, "Hold on... you mean to tell me that you're Coach Owen's granddaughter?! Mrs. Owen is your grandmother?! No way!!! Are you serious?!!"

Apparently, that info alone made me insanely cool to these people.

A dress Gran bought me

But in the eyes of my grandparents... I'm the one who hung the moon. I was their first grandchild, and I was the first little girl in the family. To them, I'm pretty much the best thing ever.

My grandmother couldn't wait to buy dresses for her first granddaughter... but as a kid, I was quite the tomboy... who wanted nothing to do with her frilly gifts. I'm also pretty sure that I was a total pain-in-the-ass... at least 70% of the time.

But honestly, to my grandparents, none of that really mattered. I was their Ashley-Cakes, and to them, I've always been perfect.

I've been so blessed to have such wonderful grandparents in my life. Since the day I was born, I've had amazing role models; I've had advisors; I've had coaches; I've had cheerleaders.

I have a family who would do anything for me. I have a family who's done everything possible to grant my wishes... to encourage my dreams... to support my decisions. I have a family who loves me no matter what I do... or don't do. I have a family who has been there for me... every single day of my life.

Yesterday, I nearly lost two of them. On Christmas day, two of the most important people in my life were almost taken from me.

And suddenly, I had just one Christmas wish... for God: Please don't take my family.

I guess He heard me. They're still here.

I love you, Gran and Granddad. I'm so sorry that you're hurting... I'm so sorry that I can't be there with you. I'm thinking of you every second and praying you'll both be okay.

Thank you for everything you've done --and continue to do-- for me. Please stick around for many more years. I need you.
Love,
Ash

If anyone would like to donate in honor of my grandparents, please click the link below:
http://luckydogrescueblog.blogspot.com/p/donate.html

A Letter to my Family

A letter to my family

Dear Mom & Dad,

I'm so sorry I couldn't be with you today. It's not because I didn't want to spend Christmas with my family. I did... more than anything... and I miss you very much.

I hope you understand why I'm not there today. I hope you understand why you didn't see me much this year. I hope you understand why I couldn't be with you... on Christmas day, or Thanksgiving day, or my birthday, or either of your birthdays.

It's not because I don't love you. It's not because I don't need you. It's not because I don't care.

I did it... for them. 

I hope you understand why I'm always working. I hope you can appreciate the importance of my job. I hope you can at least feel comforted... by my love for what I do.

Honestly, I don't do it for me. I do it for them.

Mom- I know that your heart is broken today, as you spend Christmas without your daughter. I know how much you want me there... I know how much it means to you. I know that you'll have to go through this day... just trying not to cry. I know that you'll pretend to be okay, even though you're not. I know that your only wish today... is to have me there to share it with you. And I know that... in any joyful family moment today, you'll stop and think, "I wish Ashley were here." I know that I won't be there. 

I'm so sorry, Mom. 

Dad- I know that you understand my responsibilities, but obviously... you still miss me. I know it's been so hard for you... to watch your daughter struggle, despite how hard I work. I know that you'd do everything in your power... just to lighten my load... just to see me more. I know that you're just waiting... for the day when I get to take a break and come visit. I know how much it hurts you... when that day never comes. And I know that our family isn't complete today --and most days-- because I'm not there. 

I'm so sorry, Dad. 

I realize that I'm not the only one who's had to sacrifice here. With each of my personal sacrifices... you've both been forced to sacrifice as well. You've had to sacrifice your time with me. You've had to sacrifice your weekends with me, trips with me, and holiday dinners with me. You've had to sacrifice... your daughter.  

But I also know... that you'd sacrifice everything --a million times over... just to see me smile. 

I know how incredibly lucky I am... to have 2 parents who would do anything for me. I know how much you want to help me... and I know just how helpless it makes you feel when I ask you not to.

It's not because I don't appreciate your offers. It's not because I don't want your help. It's not because I don't need you.

It's only because... quite honestly... you've done more than enough for me... all my life.

And even as I say things like, "I hope you understand" ... I already know in my heart... that you do understand. You do get it. You do support me. You're beyond proud of me.

Even still... I know that it's hard... to constantly miss your daughter. To always worry about me. To always make wishes for me... and have them not come true.

But no matter what, I want you to know... that I'm okay. I promise you I am. You don't have to worry so much.

And more than anything... today, I want to say thank you. Thank you for understanding me. Thank you for encouraging me. Thank you for supporting me. Thank you for loving me through it all.

Thank you for teaching me responsibility. Thank you for showing me compassion. Thank you for helping me each and every time I need you. Thank you for guiding me through my journey.

And thank you... for the unconditional love I've known... every single day of my life. 

Because of my sacrifices --and your sacrifices-- I'm able to make a difference in this world. And because I do without --and you do without-- my dogs don't have to. From the bottom of my heart and their's... thank you, Mom and Dad. 

While I can't physically be with you today... or most days... my heart is always there. I'm always thinking of you, missing you, and loving you. I'm always with you... always, always, and forever.

And no matter where life takes me... there will never come a day when I don't need you. Because no matter how old I get... I will always be your little girl.

Merry Christmas, Mom & Dad. I love you.
-Ash

My Dad

For my Dad, the best dad in the world

Growing up, I was such a Daddy’s girl. I wanted to be just like my dad, so I was a major tomboy. When I was little, I never wanted to wear a shirt around the house, because my dad never did. My dad just wore shorts… so I just wore shorts. I got into my mom’s makeup once, and used the eye-shadow to draw a mustache, because my dad had a mustache. Everything my dad did was so cool, and I wanted to be just like him. He’s my dad… that made him the coolest person on the planet.

I received so many of my dad’s traits. My blonde hair, my blue eyes, and that damn cowlick I hate so much. I also have my dad to thank for my determination, my passionate nature, and my sarcasm.

My dad is an amazing, loving, and supportive father. My entire life, he’s always told me that I could be anything I wanted to be, giving me the confidence to follow my dreams. My dad has never allowed me to put myself down… telling me, “Above all else, be proud of who you are.” Few people are lucky enough to have a dad like that, but for whatever reason, God gave the best dad to me.

I also got my writing ability from my dad. He’s not a “writer,” but he could be, and I love to read his words. Throughout my life, my dad has always written me little notes, in his messy, left-handed scrawl. On those notes, which I still have today, he’d write words of encouragement, wisdom, and love. Sometimes he’d just leave a post-it on my mirror:

“I love you!”

“You can do it!”

“I’m so proud of you!”

“You’re an Owen. There’s nothing an Owen can’t do.”

On Christmas Day, Santa Clause would always leave us a note on the mantle, with hints to help us find our “big” present. I was always amazed that Santa’s handwriting looked so much like my dad’s. I just assumed Santa was left-handed too.

My dad is such a funny guy, and he could always make me laugh, even when I was mad at him. He’s really just a big kid at heart... and despite my mom’s annoyance at this sometimes, I don’t think he’ll ever grow up. In all honesty, he tries to annoy us... He’ll be doing something ridiculous, like whistling really loudly for no reason, and I’ll say, “Dad, could you please stop?” To which he’ll reply, “Stop what?” And whistle even louder. My brother does the exact same thing. Multiply that out by 26 years… and you’ll see why I have very little patience at this point.

My dad loves to travel, and every year, we’d take a big family vacation. I was often annoyed on these trips, because vacation with my dad isn’t always “vacation.” It’s a little like boot camp, in a cool location. It was always: Wake up early, follow the itinerary, go-go-go, see-see-see, etc. But it wasn’t worth it to complain, because then I’d have to listen to Dad say, “Aww. I feel so bad for you. Your dad took you on a nice trip and forced you to do fun things. It’s such a tough life. Your mean daddy should be in jail for taking you to Lake Tahoe.” I couldn’t really argue with that, but I hated when he was right…

As an adult, I can really appreciate those trips we took, because I could never afford them now. And a lot of our favorite family memories were made on some of Dad’s crazy vacations.

My dad is a hard man to argue with, which has been a good quality for him, but bad for my brother and I. In disputes, Dad thought he was right, and Matt and I thought we were right. But lucky for Dad… he was the dad, so by default, he won every time. We soon learned that pouting only works with Mom, because when Dad says “No,” it does NOT mean “Yes.” Very early on, I decided that the words “Because I said so,” were a mild form of child abuse. Now, I’m tempted to say those very words to my dogs.

My mom has always been the more rational parent, while my dad has more of a stubborn fire inside. I turned out to be a mix of both… I’m a rational thinker with a stubborn streak. But looking at my dad now, I can see that he really isn’t that stubborn… he just fights for what he believes in. And if he believes in his kids being home at midnight, then your ass better be in the door by 11:59. I was constantly grounded for being late for curfew, and I’m not quite sure why I couldn’t grasp the concept. It seems pretty simple… if I stay out late tonight, then by the time I can leave the house again, my friends won’t remember what I look like. At the time, curfew seemed ridiculous, but now, I can admit that my dad was right. Few legal things were happening for us teenagers after midnight.

My high school years were a tough time for my dad and I. I was ready to grow up, and my dad wanted me to remain his little girl. He was desperately holding onto my childhood… and now I wish I would’ve held on a little longer too. That was a difficult time for my father, and back then, I couldn’t for the life of me understand him. But now, I can see that he just wanted to be a part of my life. I can also see that his “silly and ridiculous” rules weren’t really that silly or ridiculous. My dad just wanted us to be safe and responsible.

At 16, I thought my dad was over-protective. At 26, I can see that my dad is just lovingly protective over his kids... especially me. I was his first child… his little girl. And suddenly, I was growing up so fast, and he wasn’t quite ready for that yet. Looking back, I remember the pain in his eyes as I told him I wasn’t a “little girl” anymore… and I remember him saying, “But Ashley… you’ll always be my little girl.”

If I could go back in time and change ONE thing, I’d go back to 10 years ago… just to give my dad a hug, and say, “I love you, Dad, and I’m still your little girl.” Honestly, that’s all he needed to hear…  

I’ve watched my dad go through good times and bad in his life, and I’ve learned so much from him through it all. He probably doesn’t even realize how much he’s taught me, but he and mom were the 2 greatest teachers I ever had. My dad’s struggles taught me so much about life and hardship. I watched my dad follow his dream of owning his own business… I saw him succeed… and then I watched his dream die, as the very people he trusted, betrayed him, stole from him, and caused his business to close. That was a hard time for my dad, but he never felt sorry for himself, and he never asked for any pity. Through that experience, my dad taught me humility, strength, and tenacity. I’ve also seen my dad succeed more times than I can count, and through the good times, my dad taught me the importance of following your dreams, remaining humble through success, and always appreciating the things you have. He’s taught me so many lessons, and I honestly wouldn't be me without him.

I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life… many that I was ashamed to tell my dad about. But every time I’ve said, “I’m sorry I disappointed you,” my dad would say, “I’m proud of you no matter what, and you have never disappointed me.” I know he means that, even though I can’t for the life of me understand how, with all the stupid junk I’ve done.

Looking back, I can see my dad cheering on the sidelines at every stage of my life. He, my mom, and my brother have always been there, no matter what. I can see that everything he has done, since the day I was born, has been for me. I can see that my dad often didn’t get the things he needed, just so I could have the things I needed. I can see that he often missed out on the things he wanted to do, just so I could do the things I wanted to do.

I can see that my dad was right about most things, whether I could understand it at the time or not. I can see that he was never trying to “ruin my life,” he just wanted my life to be everything it could be. I can see that he has always been there… guiding me, protecting me, and loving me. I can see that my father has supported me through every decision I’ve made, whether he agreed with my choices or not. I can see him delighting in my successes, and helping me pick up the pieces when I’ve failed.

I can see the joy in his heart for the daughter he raised, and the pride in his eyes for the woman I’ve become. And while I know that he gives my mom full credit for how I turned out, he’s leaving out one major piece of the puzzle. Because so much of me… is my dad…

And so much of my dad… is me…

Happy Father’s Day, Dad. I love you, and I will always be your little girl.

My Little Brother

This isn’t a rescue story, but it’s every bit as important to my heart.

This weekend, my little baby brother, Matt Owen, got married. Now, Matt would stop me right there and say, “Ashley, I’m hardly ‘little,’ and I’m not a ‘baby.’” But lucky for me, he’s not telling this story, so he can hush it and let me finish… :)

Matt is 2 ½ years younger than me, and when we were kids, I was forced to do everything with him…

“Ashley, share your toys.”

“Ashley, let your brother play with you and your friends.”

“Ashley, let your brother ride the go-cart WITHOUT running over him this time…”

The go-cart was taken away on Christmas day—30 minutes after I got it—because I couldn’t follow the third rule.

Growing up, Matt was often my best friend and my worst enemy. You know how siblings can be…

And I allowed myself to say whatever I wanted about my brother… but no one else could. He’s MY brother. I can call him a stupid butt-face if I want, but don’t you dare agree with me.

Matt and I have always had a healthy (and sometimes not-so-much on the healthy) sibling rivalry going. Especially on Matt’s end. He’d re-take a standardized test as many times as it took for him to beat my first score. Then, he’d run around the house screaming, “I beat Ashley! I beat Ashley! IN YOUR FACE!!!” I’d laugh and say, “Well sure, if I’d taken it a HUNDRED times, who knows what I would’ve made…”

We compete out of love, but deep down, we always support each other. Growing up, we’d mostly come together to fight our parents on ridiculous rules like curfew.

My Dad: “Well maybe you kids can tell me… since you know so much more than I do… exactly what legal activities are taking place for teenagers after midnight??”

He had a point… but it didn’t piss us off any less.

As we’ve gotten older, our relationship has become much more important, as we’ve supported each other through heartbreaks, the college years, and following our dreams. You see, Matt and I were born the same passion: saving lives. For me, that’s animals. For Matt, it’s people.

I’m going to brag on Matt for a minute. My little brother is absolutely brilliant. He’s entering his third year of medical school at UAB, one of the top programs in the country. It is extremely difficult to get into the program at UAB, but they wanted my brother before he even applied. After his med school interview, the head of the program called him personally to say, “Not only have you been accepted, but you were considered to be one of the most desirable applicants we’ve ever had.” That’s my baby brother. He’s so smart it’ll make you sick.

My amazing little brother feels that he has always lived in my shadow…but I would argue that my shadow could never overtake his incredible light. I’d say that his light outshines mine by a mile. He’d probably tell you the same about me. That's the beauty of our relationship.

So this weekend, my little brother married his best friend, Molly Tilghman… now Molly Owen. And as Molly walked down the aisle, it was like I watched my brother grow up, right before my eyes...

I saw him as a baby, with those big brown eyes that always seemed to be fascinated by the world.

 

I saw him as a little boy, sharing all of his best secrets with me.

I saw me sharing a few secrets of my own with him, which he would soon tell my parents... getting me grounded...

  

I saw him as a kid, pestering me as much as humanly possible.

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I saw him holding my hand through all of life's tough times.

I saw me reaching for his hand sometimes too...

I saw him as a child with a lifelong dream of becoming a doctor...

 

I saw him as a teenager, asking me for girl advice.

I saw him as a minor, asking me to buy his beer.

I saw him graduating high school... heading off to join me at the University of Alabama.

  

I saw him as a college kid, devastated over his first real heartbreak.

I saw me by his side, crying with him...

 

I saw him the day he graduated college… heading off to medical school to follow his lifelong dream.

I saw him as an unsure young man, asking his big sister for help proposing to his girlfriend.

I saw the smile on his face when she said yes...

And I watched him as a man… saying “I do” to his new wife, on their wedding day.

Sometimes it hits you all at once that life goes by in the blink of an eye. Seeing my little brother get married was a surreal reminder of how quickly time passes… My baby brother isn’t a baby anymore. He’s all grown up.

Matt, I don’t tell you enough, but I’m so proud of you, and I’m honored to be your sister. I don’t remember my life before you, and I hope I never know it without you. You're the best pain in the ass brother there ever was. I love you.

Congratulations Matt and Molly. I’m so happy for y’all, and I love you both more than you’ll ever know. Molly, welcome to our crazy family. I can't believe you signed up for this on purpose... :) Matt, you did good.