spring break in Puerto Rico // 2024.

 In 2019, I found a travel book about Puerto Rico in a community library near our house, and I immediately declared, "I will take my family here one day."

This particular island has been a dream of mine since college, but I wasn't sure I'd ever get there. My travel rewards hobby is no secret at this point, and it's because it takes us to places that we'd likely not be able to afford without it. This was our first trip of the year, and it was a hard-but-good one. We were fresh off of a tremendous loss, and this Caribbean paradise was the perfect place for space and healing. After waiting over a year for this trip to arrive, we spent the last few months holding it so loosely as life changed time and time again.

Alas, we made it to paradise. With broken hearts, nonetheless, but we made it.

We decided to mostly rest and recover oceanside for this trip, but there were two non-negotiables for us:

1) A day in El Yunque National Forest

and

2) A day in Old San Juan

These two are iconic in Puerto Rico, and they were the perfect amount of adventure and culture for us. We considered doing other excursions when we first booked our 6-night stay, but honestly, just swimming in the pool and floating in the teal-blue ocean felt other-worldly. If we ever get to visit Puerto Rico again, I would love for us to take a catamaran sail to a nearby island of the coast (looking at you, Icacos Island), take a night tour of the bioluminescence bay, and an ATV tour through the rainforest.

Even without the extra excursions, though, I would 1000000% go back to Puerto Rico! It was just stunning.

We had five full days on this fun island, and we stayed at the beautiful Hyatt Regency Grand Reserve. We booked flights with Southwest points plus two companion passes, and included two adventure days staggered between resort days. Our resort days mostly consisted of going back and forth between the pool and the beach, with food and bathroom breaks mixed in. This is a glimpse of what it looked like:

Adventure Day #1:
El Yunque National Forest

Our first adventure day was through the El Yunque National Forest. We were so giddy for this day! We drove 40 minutes to our first hike of the day (Angelito Trail), and spent the next few hours floating and playing in the most glorious swimming hole. It was such a peaceful place, and it didn't start to get busy until we were packing up to go explore another part of the rainforest.

Before heading to our next stop, we stopped in Luquillo for a Puerto Rican meal at a waterfront restaurant called Nativa #9 (where I enjoyed the most delicious mofongo with shrimp, yummmm).

After that, we drove back the same way and stopped at another hike: Juan Diego Falls. We hiked through mud and a sea of people to explore this tiered falls, and it was breath-taking. If we had gotten there earlier (aka before the masses), we probably would have stayed and swam a bit before heading back down; still, we all loved this short, steep hike.

As we drove out of the rainforest, we stopped at the Yokahu Observation Tower.

We were just awed by this entire day.

Adventure Day #2:
Old San Juan

We woke up early, ate breakfast, then made the 45-minute drive to Old San Juan on our fourth day in Puerto Rico. I had anticipated this experience for so long, and I woke up bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, ready for an amazing day! Just thinking about the bright colors and cobblestone streets made my stomach cuts flips.

It was even more magical than I imagined.

It was, also, a lot hotter than we were prepared for, too, so be advised (LOL).

We spent most of our time simply walking along the character-ripe town, and that in itself was unforgettable. We did a quick tour of the grounds at El Morro within San Juan National Historic Site, visited the pigeons at Parque de las Palomas, walked through Catedral de San Juan, peeked at Calle Fortaleza (aka the umbrella street), walked along the historic trail known as Paseo del Morro, and more.

We enjoyed treats at Zippops and Chocobar Cortes to beat the heat, and snacked as necessary while walking along. We aren't typically foodies, which was a good thing this day since we were so hot and full from a big resort breakfast. There were so many highly recommend food spots, but I can't speak to any of them sadly.

What I can speak to is the beauty. Just wow. We all took a special picture in front of a wall/color of our choice so we could always remember our first visit to Old San Juan:

All in all, this was one of the biggest dream-come-true days for me. And to experience it with my family was just...incredible.

Aside from these two adventure days, we only ventured off the resort one other time, and that was back to Luquillo for a restaurant I'd been dying to try: Boardriders. The food was great (loved my mahi mahi tacos) and the drinks were perfectly mixed, but the biggest reason for my desired visit was for the atmosphere and ambience. It was oceanfront and just gorgeous! There were surfers out in the water catching waves, famous Puerto Rico cats sprawled out on the street, and fellow beach-bums wandering around with their eyes on the blue before them.

Cheers for visiting a bucket list island with my bucket list family. We are a handful of beach lovers, so this was the perfect week for us.

I snapped hundreds and hundreds (and hundreds) of pictures, determined to soak and savor and freeze as much as I could. Ten frames could never tell the whole story of our week in Rio Grande, but they do give a glimpse. The tears we cried aren’t pictured, and neither are the moments where the dark side of our humanity revealed itself; but rest assured, they were just as present. Even more holy than what you see here, perhaps; but I’ll keep the memories of those grace-filled moments in my heart, mind, and body.

I think we’re getting the hang of this travel-often lifestyle, and I am so grateful. When I first became a mother (a wife, too, to be honest), I hoped this day would come — when we would be a family who spring-breaked this way. I’m so glad it’s here. I’m so glad that, in spite of every reason not to, we haven’t settled for a life less than what we want. “Easy” or “hard” doesn’t matter as much to me as “true” — that’s what we’re after, and that’s what we’re living as a result.

What a gift to be alive.

Every time my heart breaks anew and does the hard work to mend again, I believe it a little more than I did before —

What an absolute gift to be alive.

Especially in the paradise known as

Puerto Rico!

thirty-five.

I am 35 grateful years old today.

In January, I decided I was going to hike Table Rock Trail by myself on my birthday this year. I have hiked this trail many, many times in my lifetime, and it remains my favorite. It is beautiful, mighty, humbling, requires so much strength, leaves you breathless, and more.

Sadly, I didn’t get to do that today.

Instead, I am in bed recovering from an emergency appendectomy that resulted in complications, a 3-night hospital stay, holes all over my abdomen, new kinds of pain I haven’t felt before, and a 2-4 week recovery before life can resume as “normal.”

I wanted to climb a mountain for my birthday. But what I really wanted to do was choose the mountain I climbed for once. To choose how I suffered for just this one day.

I know many people think I’ve gone off the deep end in recent years with the things I have written and shared, and my response is two-fold and quite simple. First, “How could I not after all the heartache I have known?” And second, “Why is that such a bad thing?”

My 35th birthday aligning with Maundy Thursday this year feels quite appropriate. I used to try so hard to be “good;” perfection has never tempted me so much, but being a (the?) “good girl” has for as long as I can remember. When I think of Christ Himself kneeling down to wash the feet of those who overestimated their love for Him and underestimated His love for them, I can easily see myself among the faces of those who tried so hard to be “good” on their own, so eager to impress their master and friend, so desperate to live up to the call placed on their lives.

My 35th birthday aligning with Maundy Thursday feels quite holy, too, because Christ understands my sorrows and my pains in a way that no one else does (or even could, really), and He has never once silenced my tears, mocked my fears, or made light of the heaviness that I carry. Never once. Even when I am least deserving of love, He still washes my feet and offers me the most sacred communion: Himself.

When I was in the hospital, several of the nurses of asked a few different variations of this question: “Do you always smile when you are in pain?”

I’ve tried not to in recent years, to tell you the truth. I really, really have. My smile has changed through all of the trials I’ve walked, but it seems that smiling simply suits me, maybe that I was genuinely made to smile. A big thing that is different about my smile these days, though, is that I no longer use it as a tool of deception or distraction. I never wanted to lose my smile; I just hated how I used and abused it for so long, how I was known and loved for so long because how well I hid the darkest, saddest parts of me.

Pain has both hurt me and healed me. It has turned my smile true, real, honest along the way, too.
I used to smile to keep people away, to keep people from knowing the truth.

Now I smile bearing the spirit of true hospitality, especially to those who may feel like who I used to; sometimes a simple smile can be the thing that breaks through the cracks and lets the light in.

I am 35 grateful years old today.

I have climbed a lot of mountains in my rather short lifetime, and I know that there will be more to climb. I’ll climb as many as I can for as long as I can though, and I’ll carry wisdom, not resentment, from all the ones that have come before.

Mountains aren’t always fun to hike or live through in the moment, but they can work wonders on (and in) the heart in the long run.

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted. “Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth. “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied. “Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy. “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God. “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God.”
Matthew‬ ‭5‬:‭3‬-‭9‬ 

our Pops.

It’s hard to describe how it feels to wake up in a world without Troy. It feels unsteady. It feels crushing and devastating. It feels wrong and unfair.

It feels gray.

I was fourteen years old when I met him for the first time. I really (really) liked his son, and I really (really) feared his parents. I’m not sure why I was intimidated, other than the obvious (I wanted them to like me), but it probably had something to do with how close his family seemed. There was something different about TJ (in a good way), and I suspected that his mom and dad and sisters were the reason.

I was right.

And since then, they have been my family. Gradually, a little more so with the passing of time, but mine all the same. Angie has loved me as a daughter since that first year…

And Troy did, too.

How do you reconcile your past memories with your current heartache?

How do you move forward when your mind is playing reruns of days gone by on a loop?

How do you make peace with never hearing the voice or feeling the presence of someone who commanded every room ever again?

How do you grieve well for yourself when you feel the searing pain radiate off of your husband and kids even from the other side of the house?

Those are only a sample of the questions I’m wrestling with in the early days, early hours of this loss.

The answers will reveal themselves in time, I know. And I don’t need to be told all the things that people compulsively tell you when you’re sad. But the weight of life starting over without someone you’ve loved for so long is heavy.

And I am not afraid to give myself over to it.

Troy wasn’t my dad.

He was a dad to me, though.

He made space for me, sacrificed for me, trusted me in a unique way, laughed with me, moved through hard seasons with me, argued with me, loved me.

If you have known this kind of love, I don’t have to tell you that a memory could never be enough. There is no replacement for a life you treasured, and there is no bandaid big enough for a blow like this. My heart already aches for every birthday, every baseball and football game, every dance recital, every milestone, everything that we won’t look up to see him at.

He was just always there. He was always showing up even when he ran on fumes and had a million other things that he could’ve been doing. And it feels impossible to accept that he won’t be anymore.

But I feel bone-deep grateful for every moment I lingered in,

every laugh line I memorized,

every opportunity I took to hug him and feel his warmth,

every trip I was invited along for,

every silent conversation we shared,

every day I got to be under his wide, strong covering.

It’s hard to describe how it feels to wake up in a world without Troy. It feels unsteady. It feels crushing and devastating. It feels wrong and unfair.

It feels gray.

Even the sky agreed on that first day without him.

"I am standing upon the seashore. A ship, at my side,

spreads her white sails to the moving breeze and starts

for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength.

I stand and watch her until, at length, she hangs like a speck

of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.

Then, someone at my side says, "There, she is gone."

Gone where?

Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast,

hull and spar as she was when she left my side.

And, she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined port.

Her diminished size is in me -- not in her.

And, just at the moment when someone says, "There, she is gone,"

there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices

ready to take up the glad shout, "Here she comes!"

And that is dying..."

Gone From My Sight

by Henry Van Dyke