And Until We Meet Again, May God Hold You In The Palm Of His Hand

And Until We Meet Again, May God Hold You In The Palm Of His Hand

When you lose someone, everything seems black; but if you try hard enough, you might find gold.

May the road rise up to meet you.

May the wind always be at your back.

May the sun shine warm upon your face,

and rains fall soft upon your fields.

And until we meet again,

May God hold you in the palm of His hand

Three years ago on Labor Day, I struggled to finish my summer reading, "A Lesson Before Dying."

Three years ago on Labor Day, my sister and parents had another dreaded college talk.

Three years ago on Labor Day, my uncle Steve, amazing husband and father of two, collapsed and died.

September 3, 2012: For the first time, I experienced true shock, heartbreak and a total realignment of everything I previously believed.

I come from a big, Irish family that's always loud and always laughing until you get call on a gorgeous summer day that one of you is gone unexpectedly, never coming back. An amazing part of human memory is that we remember things of great pain. I remember this entire day, and the few that followed. I remember my mom getting the call, getting the news, my world changing. I remember having to going with my sister and cousin to pick up my other cousin at soccer and tell him the news. I remember seeing my aunt who had just lost her husband, sitting on my grandparents' steps, having to call other family and friends, reliving the pain over and over. My grandpa, in tears, at a loss for what to do and what to say. Worst of all, I remember the cries and screams of my two little cousins who had just learned their daddy was gone forever.

But then there’s another amazing part of human memory, remembering the good things. I remember the way me and the older cousins rallied around each other; growing up together, we could communicate with just a look. I remember going to field hockey practice that night, not stable enough to practice, but just being embraced by my coaches and teammates. I remember going to my grandparents house Tuesday and Wednesday nights with my whole family, technically to plan services, but really to laugh and reminisce. I remember my whole team, old friends, and my cousin’s entire football team coming to the wake to show their support. I remember the whole church singing “This Little Light of Mine” at the funeral, with my younger cousins smiling and holding candles, then later our family releasing balloons to this tune in the cemetery, still smiling, knowing Steve was watching. On what should’ve been the most painful day, I remember two after-parties filled with friends, family, music, food and of course, laughter.

That was one of the things my uncle Steve did best, laugh and make people laugh. He also loved to watch sports, play guitar and listen to Irish music. Most of all, he loved his family. And we love him. I miss him everyday. I miss him for me because he was a great time, always fun to play with and talk to. I miss him for my aunt, she lost her best friend, but she gets up everyday and carries on as an incredible mother. I miss him for my cousins. At 18 years old, I remember how much I loved my dad at six years old, and how my love for him has only grown with me. My heart breaks to think that they’ll live more of their lives without him, than with him.

October 15, 2015: My uncle Steve would’ve turned 50 years old.

I miss him. But I also know losing him made me realize how damn lucky I am to have such an amazing family. Through all the chaos, we’re there for each other in our darkest and happiest times to lean on and support. I thank God every day for blessing me with such strong role models to lead me, and I pray to Steve everyday to continue to bless and watch over us. If I could wish him back tomorrow, I’d do anything to make it possible. But I can’t. I do know, though, that one day our entire, crazy family will be together once again.

And until we meet again, may God hold you in the palm of His hand.

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I'm A Woman And You Can't Convince Me Breastfeeding In Public Is OK In 2019

Sorry, not sorry.


Lately, I have seen so many people going off on social media about how people shouldn't be upset with mothers breastfeeding in public. You know what? I disagree.

There's a huge difference between being modest while breastfeeding and just being straight up careless, trashy and disrespectful to those around you. Why don't you try popping out a boob without a baby attached to it and see how long it takes for you to get arrested for public indecency? Strange how that works, right?

So many people talking about it bring up the point of how we shouldn't "sexualize" breastfeeding and seeing a woman's breasts while doing so. Actually, all of these people are missing the point. It's not sexual, it's just purely immodest and disrespectful.

If you see a girl in a shirt cut too low, you call her a slut. If you see a celebrity post a nude photo, you call them immodest and a terrible role model. What makes you think that pulling out a breast in the middle of public is different, regardless of what you're doing with it?

If I'm eating in a restaurant, I would be disgusted if the person at the table next to me had their bare feet out while they were eating. It's just not appropriate. Neither is pulling out your breast for the entire general public to see.

Nobody asked you to put a blanket over your kid's head to feed them. Nobody asked you to go feed them in a dirty bathroom. But you don't need to basically be topless to feed your kid. Growing up, I watched my mom feed my younger siblings in public. She never shied away from it, but the way she did it was always tasteful and never drew attention. She would cover herself up while doing it. She would make sure that nothing inappropriate could be seen. She was lowkey about it.

Mindblowing, right? Wait, you can actually breastfeed in public and not have to show everyone what you're doing? What a revolutionary idea!

There is nothing wrong with feeding your baby. It's something you need to do, it's a part of life. But there is definitely something wrong with thinking it's fine to expose yourself to the entire world while doing it. Nobody wants to see it. Nobody cares if you're feeding your kid. Nobody cares if you're trying to make some sort of weird "feminist" statement by showing them your boobs.

Cover up. Be modest. Be mindful. Be respectful. Don't want to see my boobs? Good, I don't want to see yours either. Hard to believe, I know.

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21 Tweets About Anti-Vax Children That Will Make Parents Get Their Kids Vaccinated ASAP

Vaccinate your kids. Period.


I have compiled 21 tweets about anti-vaccination parents and their children that did not only make me laugh, but made me further enforce my belief that parents need to vaccinate their kids.

These tweets are pretty dark, to be honest, but once you think about the situation at hand, sometimes it is best to approach it in a funny way so you can get your point across.

You have been warned.

These tweets may be funny, but the situation is not funny. Do your research and help people around you not get sick by vaccinating your kids.






















(and probably the most important tweet of all).

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