Annual Unconventional List of Thanks

I’m thankful that I’ve learned to respect myself by cutting out toxic people who are bad for my mental health. 

I’m thankful for all the setbacks, the less-than-ideal jobs, the rejections. Negative news and situations are always hard to fathom, but I trust that I am being directed to the right place.

I’m thankful for the rude, entitled people that I sometimes have to interact with for teaching me how NOT to act or treat others.

I am thankful for my self-therapy. Sometimes my eating disorder sneaks back up on me as a coping mechanism in times of distress or pain. I use it to gain control over my life. THEN I realize that is not coping- it is self-harm. And I go back to my real activities that make me happy: playing an instrument to soothe myself, or taking a run to clear my mind. I’m thankful that I can acknowledge what is healthy for me.

I’m thankful for my friends and family who do not sugar coat anything. I love when people can be honest and realistic, but not hurtful.

2014 has been the year of the friend. I think that’s because my friends and I have finally reached the age that sometimes family members don’t understand our problems because of generational differences. I love that I have found so many friends from differing backgrounds that do not judge; they only support.

I’m thankful for the hardships in recent years that have revealed my true friends. Thanks to that, I no longer need to waste time or energy on people who do not care.

I had so many friends, near and far, cheer for me during the marathon. They celebrated with me in spirit. I had friends, near and far, cry with me when Papaw died. Some of these friends didn’t even know him. But because they love me, they felt my pain too. Those are the best friends.

I’m thankful for the friends that I consider my brothers and sisters.

I am thankful for my siblings. In my life, I’ve questioned a lot of things regarding my family life. But I’ve never questioned how much I love my siblings. I know they look up to me, so I think twice when making decisions. They make me a better person.

I’m thankful for my cousins that could easily be my siblings. Cousins are great. Mine are at least. I’m so grateful for their loyalty.

I’m thankful for my high school teachers that I still continue to teach me and help me grow. I still have relationships with my music, theater and English teachers. I’ve actually shared with them some of my most private pieces of writing that I’ve never shared with anyone else. That is how much I trust and respect them.

I’m thankful for the Knowlton School of Architecture and The Ohio State University. These institutions have given me some of my best and weirdest friends a girl could ever ask for.

I’m thankful for my Uncle Ray (“Gunkle”) who has had to break a lot of bad news to me in my life. He was the one to tell me that Ethan needed heart surgery, that Papaw had cancer; that Papaw had days left to live; that Papaw had died. Every time he had to deliver this heart wrenching news, he cried with me. I really appreciate that. He never pretended that it didn’t hurt or that it was going to be okay. He acknowledged with his tears that he is hurting too and that we can hurt together. 

I’m thankful for my Mamaw. When I come home, she makes me food, does my laundry, buys me random necessities. I don’t need her to do that. But that’s exactly what Mamaws are for, and she does it perfectly. She also fills the roles that I do need. She listens to me cry, whether that is over the phone or at the dining room table. (And that can’t be a pleasant job. I am such an ugly crier.) Mamaw is definitely one of my best friends.

Finally, I’m thankful for the time I had with Papaw. Twenty-three years was not enough for me, but I’m grateful for what I did get. He taught me how to face life with laughter. Thanks to him, from now on, whatever I do, I will do it with all my heart. He would not want me to wallow in self-pity. He never did that, even when he was dying. Even though my heart aches every day, I am taking the steps I need to live a happier and healthier life. I am thankful for his motivation.

A Small Speech for a Big Heart

"How lucky am I to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard?" This is a quote stated by the beloved childhood character, Winnie the Pooh. I read this quote months ago, before any of this was on our minds. But I think that's exactly why I stumbled across it. God has been preparing my heart for this a long time.

I read it one night while browsing literary quotes.

"How lucky am I to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard?"

I immediately thought of Papaw. How lucky am I? How lucky are all of us in to have known, loved, and been loved by such a wholesome and giving heart?

A few years ago at Ohio State, there was a special dinner for grandparents, and of course mine came. I surprised Mamaw and Papaw by giving a speech about them during the dinner. I asked a friend to film the speech just so I could have it, and for a moment she moved the camera on to my grandparents, watching me speak. That was the first time I had seen my grandpa cry outside of a funeral home.

I discussed how honored I am to belong to them. How lucky am I? These two really put the grand in grandparents. Their love for each other and their family is larger than life. I have learned so much from their love, kindness, dedication, and willingness to give. I truly hope that I can spread as much charity and positively impact as many lives as my Papaw has.

In the past few days I have been reminded of his charity many times. I have been really touched by people telling me stories about him. So many people have gone out of their way to tell our family how much Ray meant to them. At the funeral home last night I spoke to a woman that he hired at Logan several years ago. Through my sadness I thought, "Wow. This is really cool to hear these stories. How lucky am I?"

I was also reading the condolences on the funeral home website, and one that stood out to me the most was from a co-worker. She said, "Ray was a very kind man. He taught me a lot, but one thing that stands out to me most about Ray is that he never thought less of anyone when they did not know something, he just helped us learn." I will take that with me for the rest of my life and try to be a patient leader like my grandfather.

Something I realized a long time ago is that I will never be able to pay Papaw back for what he has done for me and this world. The best I can do is pay it forward-- I aspire to live and love as he did; as a friend, parent, coach, mentor, volunteer and servant.

I also learned from Papaw that even though you may be suffering through the hardest and darkest time of your life, that you can still find joy and peace in daily life. I will really miss him in that aspect. I will miss the simple things... Like going to Sam's Club and eating all their samples. I will miss his company when I make outlandish statements to strangers, just to see their reaction. I will miss his reactions to my outlandish statements to him. Once I asked him, "What would you do if I dropped out of architecture school to become a comedian?" He said, "Well... I'd laugh at you."

On a side note- this is kind of unrelated, but a fun story I love to remember: When I was a high school freshman, I had a crush on two brothers that were seniors. Papaw knew this. Once at a football game, one of the boys was walking in front of us, and Papaw turned around and grinned at me. In my soul I was like, "No Papaw Please, no. Just no." And then he did it. Papaw tapped on the boy's shoulder, and he turned around. Papaw said, "Excuse me. My granddaughter thinks you're hot." Although inside I was mortified, I would not give Papaw the satisfaction of embarrassing me, so I looked at the boy right in the eye and said, "Yes. I do."

Anyway, getting back on track here- Among other comments people have made to me, a popular one has been, "He was one of a kind." Speaking of boys, the other day Mamaw told me that I need to "find someone like Papaw." That's a nice thought, but I think I have better chances of finding Bigfoot.

But the comment that stands out the most to me is, "He put up one heck of a fight." That's the thing. He fought so hard. But the catch is that he didn't lose. Sometimes you work so hard for something that God gives you what you deserve. Papaw deserved a beautiful life, one more beautiful and perfect that what we could have given him on this earth. And that is what God gave him.

What My Tattoos Meant to My Grandpa

For many years I knew I wanted a tattoo. A lot of people do. A lot of people want one just to have one. Most people talk about it, but never go through with it. I knew in my heart, when the time was right, that I would do it. I even discussed it with my grandparents. Not the tattoo I ended up getting (lol), but other tattoo ideas. I knew they were disturbed, but they also trust me with my decisions about my life and my body.

In the summer, my family got the devastating news that Papaw's cancer was likely back. I really struggled to cope with this being so far away from my family. Of course, their love will always be in my heart, but I wanted a physical reminder of their love that I could see on a daily basis. What a better reminder than permanent ink? ;)

On one of my drives south, the moment happened. It was a beautiful, sunny summer day. The windows of my car were down and I was listening to The Beatles. And the song, "In My Life" came on. I love that song with all my heart. I played and sang it at a Mother's Day event once (I rarely publicly play and sing simultaneously, so that is me proving how important the song is).

Suddenly, by the grace of the creativity gods, I had an idea! What if I got my grandparents to write out the lyrics of "In My Life" for a tattoo? That is just what I did that weekend. I took Papaw the piece of paper first. Without telling them what it was to be used for, I asked, "Papaw, will you write, 'In my life'?" He was a bit confused, but complied. He even asked me, "What am I doing this for?" I giggled and said, "You'll see." His first go was a little messy, so I asked him, "Could you maybe write that a little more neatly?" His second attempt looked like it was written by Walt Disney, so I used the original. <3 p="">
I took the paper to Mamaw next and asked her to write, "I love you more."

It took me a few weeks to figure out the placement. When I had that figured out, I picked an artist that I liked and made the magic happen. I originally was going to wait until I got home to show them, but I'm really bad at hiding anything so I called them right away and told them. This was the manner in which I broke the news to Mamaw: "Hi Mamaw. Do you know how much I love you?" "Aww I love you too." "No, you don't understand. I love you so much that I got your handwriting tattooed on my body." "What?"

Heehee. The rest of the conversation with Mamaw was pretty normal. She wasn't too upset or disturbed and neither was Papaw. They were both mostly concerned that I had hurt myself or that I was going to get a disease.

The moment of reveal to Papaw, though, was one of the most touching moments I've ever experienced. Two weeks later, I was able to visit home, and I made the drive right after work. I was wearing long sleeves, so when I got there I had to change. (I had to add some drama, right?) I approached Papaw, who was in his chair (a place he spent a lot of time while sick), and asked, "Are you ready?" I leaned over him, showing him what I had done. He read it slowly, "In my life... I love you more." I watched his face as he read my arms. Then he looked at me. I really do not know how to put into words the expression on his face. It was just full of love. I could tell that he was extremely honored that I went to those lengths, not only to prove my life for them, but so that I could have a piece of them forever. I will never, ever forget the look on his face.

A few minutes later when I had moved on to other things (like convincing Mamaw that I'm not diseased), he approached me and gave me a hug that seemed to last a lifetime. He also told me he loved me. He was a loving man, but he never just "did" things that emotional. I could tell that he was still thinking about my tattoos and the meaning behind them.

Ray Thomas Redman

Ray Thomas Redman

07.31.2948-11.07.2014

Ray Thomas Redman, 66, of Mason, WV, went to be with the Lord on Friday, November 7, after a courageous two-year battle with pancreatic cancer. Ray was born on July 31, 1948 in Mason, WV, to his loving parents, the late Tom and Eulah Johnson Redman. He is survived by his wife of 46 wonderful years, Joyce Long Redman, son daughter-in-law Ray and Mandy Redman, daughter and son-in-law Lori and Wally Hatfield, grandchildren, Jamie Bailey, Mackenzee Redman, Nathan Redman, Allison Hatfield, and Ethan Redman, a special great-grand cat, Maggie, brother-in-law and sister-in-law Jan and Susie Long, and several aunts, uncles, cousins, nephews, and special friends. He is preceded in death, beside his parents, by grandson Ryler Redman, father-in-law and mother-in-law Lewis and Dorothy Long, and a special cousin Linn Ward. Ray had a successful career and was employed by Logan Corporation. He was an avid golfer and a member of the Mason United Methodist Church. As a follower of Jesus, Ray loved serving his community. He enjoyed supporting his grandchildren in their athletic and musical activities. Ray was deeply loved by his family, widely respected throughout the community and will be greatly missed.
Visitation will be Tuesday, November 11th, from 6-8pm, at the Foglesong-Roush Funeral Home in Mason. The funeral will be Wednesday at 11am at the Mason United Methodist Church.

26.2

I fought hard yesterday. My body is reminding me of that in my every movement today. I could feel it in my sleep when I tried to shift positions. I hesitated at getting out of bed and standing up, knowing it would be a struggle. I hobbled to, in and out of my car and across the parking lot, into the building in which I work… all with a goofy, satisfied grin on my face. I am so, so happy to have this pain. I am a grateful victim of the Champion Shuffle. That’s what I call it at least. As you know, I got the shuffle by running the 26.2 mile beast. This is the story of what it took to conquer it.

The first half felt so strong. I maintained a consistent pace and fed off the crowd support. I purposely did not listen to music the entire first half so that I could enjoy the supportive spectators. There were some touching moments and some funny moments during the first half. One of the first powerful moments I experienced occurred early around mile 4. One of the wheelchair racers was struggling to make it up a hill, and every single runner who passed him cheered for him, including myself. It was instinctual. I have no idea what I yelled, but I do remember something encouraging spilling out of my mouth at a volume I could not control. It brings me to tears to think about. Not because I felt sorry for him—I can barely run up a hill, let alone wheel myself up one—but because I was so humbled to be among such supportive people. We were all in it together, and we were all cheering for each other, regardless of ability.

The second moment that jarred me was inspired by a character named Bryer. I had seen runners with shirts that said, “Bryer’s Song.” I gathered that it was a team name, likely inspired by a person, quite possibly a child, who had passed away. Around mile 6, I heard a woman shout, “Bryer was strong! Be strong like Bryer!” Although at the time I wasn’t certain who the angel named Bryer was, I could hear determination in the voice of the encouraging woman. I researched before writing this post, and sadly my guess was accurate.  Bryer was a former patient champion* who moved on to the angel mile this year. <3 p="">

There were also moments of sheer goofiness. As I began to pick up the pace in mile 11, I passed a man in a pink bunny suit. He was running a half (or maybe even full) marathon in a bunny suit, so I’m assuming he was doing this for a higher reason. I did my best not to laugh at him. In my defense, it was just a pretty ridiculous sight. I also saw a couple holding a sign referring to the Beyonce song, “Flawless.” I threw my arms in the air and shouted the word at them as if I had just learned to read. But they loved it and cheered for me in return. Some of the signs that made me laugh the most were, “Run like Ebola is chasing you,” “Run like her dad walked in,” (that one took me a second), and “PENIS.” I only thought that was hilarious because the man holding it was extremely creepy, which just made the whole scene. One of my favorite characters on the course was a person in a monkey suit and mask with a sign that said, “You are all bananas. I love bananas.” He/she was ringing a bell and, not even kidding, making monkey noises at the runners. I laughed so hard at that one, it hurt. I had a few great friends along the course that were holding signs for me. I will forever be grateful for that support. Thank you, Elise, Matt, Renee, Jack, and Nathan.

I knew I was approaching the halfway mark, and I still felt strong. I also knew I would be seeing my aunt and two cousins soon, so I was getting quite eager and probably running a little too fast. Shortly before I saw my family, I saw a couple MIT coaches. MIT is my training group, Marathoners in Training, and I have acquired a second family simply by joining this group of people. The head coach had a camera in hand, as always, so I smiled as I flew by. I was easily identifiable because I was wearing the official MIT shirt, so throughout the entire course, I had cheerleaders. (A HUGE perk I was not expecting!)

When I saw my family, I was flooded with pure joy. It’s always special to see your family on the course, no matter how many times you’ve raced. I sprinted over to Ethan, my three-year-old cousin (I often call him my nephew) who lurched toward me. I thought he was going to chase me. I’m actually kind of sad that he didn’t. His Mom would have had a heck of a time catching him in a marathon. I laugh just thinking of the possibility. Anyway, I grabbed his tiny face and kissed his little cheek. He was wearing his signature, ornery grin, and I could tell that he was just as happy to see me as I was to see him. I could also see the pride and happiness in my aunt’s face, and, well, I can easily make myself cry thinking about that—I love you, Mandy! Mackenzee was there cheering as well, and she also made her support clear on social media. She coined one of the best hashtags I’ve ever seen if I do say so myself. That would be #badassbailey   Heehee.

My grandparents were unable to make it due to my Papaw’s current health conditions, but throughout the race I reminded myself whose blood runs through my veins. I also looked down at my tattooed arms if I needed any inspiration. I especially thought of my grandparents in the “ungodly miles,” miles 18-on. When I was tired or wanted to give up, lie down, cry, lose my freaking mind, all of the above, I thought of my grandparents and how strong they are. <3 p="">

Speaking of the ungodly miles, when I hit mile 22, the finish seemed so close, yet so far. At mile 23 I realized, “Wow. I’m doing this. I’m actually going to finish this thing.” I also thought of you, Adrian Bolin! You’re a fighter! When I hit mile 24, I realized I was almost done prayed for the next mile marker to come quickly.

By the time I got to mile 25, I felt like I was flying. I wanted to finish as quickly as possible. There was a small group of MIT cheerers, and about half a mile from the finish they saw me and shouted, “GO MIT, this is your last big push!” I thought the finish line was around the corner, so I really picked up the pace. It was not. Devastated, I continued the fast pace and turned another corner. Yet again, I could not see the finish line. At that moment, I distinctly remember thinking to myself, “Where the **** is the finish line?!” Finally, a last turn and there it was. It was such a glorious moment, and I was trying to take in the last few seconds of my 4:13:09 journey. The end of the Rolling Stones, “You Can’t Always Get What You Want,” was playing, and if you’re familiar with it, there is a really uplifting piano riff with a choir of what sounds like angels singing on top of that, “You get what you need.”  It was almost movie-like. I could see the crowd, and although I could faintly hear some of the people reading my bib and yelling out my name, I was in my own world of euphoric achievement.

I threw my arms into the air as I crossed the finish and then it finally sank in. I had done it. That was the moment I had been dreaming of since I could remember. I was already breathing hard from pushing that last half mile, and then I started choking up. With that combination, there was a terrifying thirty seconds that I could barely breathe. I wiped my tears from my salty face as a volunteer placed a medal around my neck. A girl who could see that I was struggling a little bit- bless her heart- read my bib and said in the most genuine voice, “Congratulations, Jamie. Good job.”

Someone wrapped me in a space blanket. Someone snapped my picture. I tried to eat a bagel, but everything was a chore at that point. That includes walking. It was so painful. I found my family, and I could tell they were so happy for me. I still felt drugged, so I had a difficult time expressing how thrilled I was by the finish and the presence of my family and friends that I consider family. This whole marathon business has made me realize how truly blessed, lucky, and loved I am. By the end of it I felt like a zombie that crawled out of hell, but you all made me feel like a rockstar. Thank you for believing in me.

It has been four months of chaos, uncertainty, dedication, planning, and ultimately triumph. And I cannot wait to do it again.

*The Nationwide Children’s Hospital Marathon hosts a “Patient Champion” at each mile marker so that the runners can be inspired at every mile. The Marathon also hosts an “Angel Mile,” remembering and celebrating the lives that are lost too soon. 

Abuse Is Not Love

I have personally not been in a violent relationship, but for a large portion of my life, I was a first-hand witness to a very unhealthy, abusive relationship. That is the reason I have become so dedicated to spreading awareness about this type of violence. In the winter, I wrote my first feature-length screenplay (hopefully it will make it to a theatre near you and truly educate those who need it most!), and it featured a character who had been deeply affected by domestic violence. During my writing process, I consulted some amazing women who told me about their experiences with their abusive (and ex!) partners. I already knew the warning signs, but their input educated me on a whole new level.

With all that being said, this is an odd thing for me to include in my writing, but I'm going to do so anyway. If you are reading this because you are trying to figure out what relationship scarred me or if you are trying to figure out who I interviewed to write my script, then you can stop now and kindly go back to middle school where you belong with your maturity level. If you are here to support the fight against domestic violence, carry on! I love people like you!

The United States Department of Justice defines domestic violence as "a pattern of abusive behavior in any relationship that is used by one partner to gain or maintain power and control over another intimate partner.  Domestic violence can be physical, sexual, emotional, economic, or psychological actions or threats of actions that influence another person. This includes any behaviors that intimidate, manipulate, humiliate, isolate, frighten, terrorize, coerce, threaten, blame, hurt, injure, or wound someone."

What most people, including victims, don't know is that one form of domestic violence can easily snowball into any or all of the forms listed above. What may start as a boyfriend who tells you to lose weight or occasionally calls you nasty names may turn into a husband who completely isolates you from your family and tricks you into being financially dependent. This is why knowing the warning signs is SO IMPORTANT. I will list them below!

It starts with obsession and intensity. The abuser will become fixated on you and insist on moving in together or getting serious or married very early in the relationship. Constant texts, phone calls, emails and Facebook messages are also a warning sign. There is a difference between gestures of love and straight-up obsession.

The abuser will easily become jealous of you and exhibit this jealously with irrational behavior or accusations. An abuser will become easily angered when their victim experiences positive changes such as a job promotion or something that may give the victim independence. (Whereas a normal, loving partner would be dang happy for you!) The abuser will also behave irrationally and resentfully when you spend time with friends and family. It's all about control.

Your abuser may sabotage you by making you miss an important event, critical to your success or well-being or maybe just happiness in general (a doctor appointment, job interview or friend's wedding). Your abuser may also sabotage you by hiding your money, keys, or personal belongings that give you mobility or freedom from their behaviors.

An abuser overreacts to the smallest of events. Maybe you burned dinner or forgot an item at the grocery store. A normal person would get over it. An abusive person will make your life a living hell over that small detail and may even become angry or violent at the "mistake." Which brings me to my next point. These are not "mistakes." The abuser makes you think that it's your fault that he overreacted or became violent. He will criticize everything you do, down to how you vacuum the rug. Nothing you do will ever satisfy his critical, abusive nature.

When the abuser does overreact or become violent, he will try to blame you or guilt you for what happened. Sometimes the abuser will try to lead you to believe that you are crazy.

I am here to tell you that none of this is your fault. If jealousy, anger, control, sabotage, criticism, and anger are core characteristics of your relationship, you deserve better. You deserve love. Abuse is not love.

If you are in an abusive relationship, and you feel the need to take action, please contact the National Domestic Violence Hotline.
1-800-799-SAFE (7233)
1-800-787-3224 (TTY)

If someone you know is in an abusive relationship, please exercise caution with their situation. They are in much more danger than you are, so please do not do anything that makes them feel uncomfortable or threatened. Educate them and support them, but know that ultimately, leaving the abuser is their choice.

You Are a Survivor

You are the most beautiful line from your favorite book
You are the prettiest characteristics of your favorite season
Colorful and clear as autumn
Crisp and bright like the winter
Hopeful and fresh as spring
Sunny and free like summer

You are not what has been taken away from you
You are what you give to everyone else
You are not a long night of crying
You are your biggest smile and your hardest laugh
You may be in pieces, but you are still a whole

You are not your treatments or your medication
You are not a test score or a GPA
You are not a number on a scale
You are not a measurement at all
You are not even a degree or a medal
You are effort and will

And damn it, you are what you eat because food is great and so are you

You are not your scars
You are your ability to heal.
You are not only where you have been, but you are also places you intend to go

You have cancer
You are not cancer
You have an eating disorder
You are not an eating disorder
You have depression
You are not depression
You have an addiction
You are not the drug
As long as you have the will to fight
You are a survivor