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This human.  It's everything hard and of-the-heart to even begin to describe her place in my life. She is breathe. Fresh air kind & pure.  She is the holy-cow-get-your-groove-on-with-me on the dance floor.  She is spontaneity simple and so very sweet.  She is the grounding effect to a room just the same.  Her presence makes everyone feel important, included & cared for.  Yes, everyone.

Her path to me is nothing short of God woven.  Our stories are like a french braid.  The kind slept in with all the sweet little whispies hanging out but still in tact & secure.  We are worn.On & in, our stories are plaited only to strengthen the other's weave.

She writes.  Oh, she writes.  Like me, pressing letters matters to her so very much.  This woman feels.  Before the very reach of her strong, beautiful hands, you will know her heart. She believes in bold; she knows weak.  Together both live so very powerfully in her.

I am beyond honored to share here presence here in my space for story.  Please welcome a woman who makes this world such a better place.  Meet one of my dearest friends, Nicole Samples.

My heart started beating really fast when Meghan asked me to be one of her contributors this month.  I wanted to do it, but man, it is a vulnerable place to be! Meghan and I have been friends since college and she has always challenged me to keep seeking, to keep striving, to do what gives me joy. She is a keeper.  I have things I want to write about and Meghan has given me the opportunity to share one of my stories today. So here it goes.

Five days before I graduated from college, my dad was killed in an automobile accident. It was the week of finals at school, I walked into my dorm room on that Monday night to find my mom and my brother waiting for me. My life was forever changed. Not only did I lose my dad, my friend… I lost that feeling. That “whole hearted” feeling. Having kids has helped heal it a bit, but I will tell you, my heart will never be truly full or healed after May 10, 1999. I decided to still walk at graduation, which was 2 days after burying my dad. I remember the fog of the day, I remember trying to smile and be happy for my accomplishment. But really, I was completely shattered inside.

The last conversation I had with my dad ended with him trying to convince me to move home after graduation. He wanted me to come home. He wanted to just be with me. To take care of me. To help me find a job.  To be there. I will never forget that conversation.

The 22 year old on the phone was so frustrated that her dad didn’t understand her desire to see if she could do it all on her own. To take a chance. He didn’t want to let go and she was determined not to hold on, at least not so tightly. He didn’t get it. Or did he get it and just not want to admit it? Either way, it was a heated conversation. He pointed out all the reasons why his daughter should come home, heavily weighing on the lack of money his daughter had to her name… like maybe only had a few hundred dollars to her name and no job.

I was going to be “just fine” – I said. Ok, maybe I was a little stubborn. But I knew that if I went home, he would spoil me. He just wanted to have me home. But, I was on a path of independence and challenging myself to figure this whole “life” thing out. I couldn’t go backwards and give up this desire to just try it out. There was something that just kept nudging me to take the leap of faith, even though I didn’t exactly have a plan on how it would work out. I had made a choice and I was going to stick with it, even if it meant waiting tables again and eating bologna sandwiches 3x a day. I just knew going home wasn’t the path I was supposed to follow. So I fought hard and held on tight during that last conversation I would ever have with my dad. He continued to push the matter on the phone... and I hung up on him.

I had never hung up on my dad before. While I was in college, we talked at least 2 -3 times a week. We were close. We actually became friends. We talked about all kinds of things, he told me about what else he might want to do in his life, we discussed friendships, hardships and anything that was going on in our lives. I began to see my dad as more than just the coolest dad in the world, but also as a flawed man that had his own demons and challenges. He told me about his shortcomings with my parent’s marriage. He struggled with setting boundaries with my brother. His love for his two kids often made him a softy.  He just wasn’t good with the tough love thing. Dad wanted to hold on to us and keep us under his wing as long as we would let him.

That night, as my brother and I stood in the hallway of my dorm room… he held me tight and I told him about my last conversation with dad.  I will never forget how dark that hallway felt, the energy was strong in that small space. We stood there - shattered, lost, scared. And at that moment, my brother gave me a great gift in his words. A reminder.  A huge relief.“Nicole, there is no way that last conversation defined your relationship with dad.”  He was right and I knew that dad was aware that he had a strong willed daughter that had set her mind to something.  I made a choice that night to not hold myself to that final call. I knew and will always know that our relationship was so much more than that one conversation. Dad knew me, he knew that I was ready to grow up. He just wasn’t ready to let go… and I loved him for that.

Within 3 days of my dad passing, I found out that if I continued going to school, I could stay as a dependent of my dad for the next few years… so I had applied to UT Knoxville for Graduate School. My next few years had been decided within days of two major life changing events. I wouldn’t start classes until August, which was good because the months following May 10th were challenging to say the least. I had many days of doing nothing, I was slipping into a really dark place. Every day was defined by the death. People would ask me my name and all I wanted to say was, “My name is Nicole and my dad died.” Truly, it was a daily struggle…  I didn’t have the skills or knowledge on how to cope, how to get through the pain.

The moment that I will forever remember came to me in my apartment one night. I had many nights of crying, of writing, of thinking about what the hell just happened, and why did it happen to my dad. But this one night, my lights were on in the room, and I was lying on my bed looking up at the ceiling. I closed my eyes and immediately saw two tunnels. These two tunnels looked very different from each other. One was very bright, it was white with lots of lights surrounding it. The other tunnel that was completely dark. I couldn’t see much in the dark tunnel, but the feelings while looking at it were very familiar. Dark, sad, scary, angry.

All I saw were the two tunnels. And it was at that moment, a voice came to me and told me it was time to make a choice, pick my path. It was time to decide what the rest of my life would hold. Do you want to carry this horrible pain, anger and sadness around for the remainder of your life? To walk around pissed off at the world, at anyone that still had a dad to laugh with, to walk them down the aisle, to play with their grandkids? To believe that God “did” this? To be so angry and to bury myself down in that deep, dark tunnel for the rest of my life?

Or do I choose that bright tunnel… the one that recognizes that life is hard and sad and unfair sometimes, but I can make a choice on how I walk through my life and not let this one, horribly huge thing take over and put darkness in every corner of every room I inhabit. I can still live happily, with sadness.

What’s it gonna be?

I just laid there, tears strolling down my face, knowing that this was the moment. I had been given this moment for a reason. Someone or something is trying to give me a choice. My heart was so shattered at that time, that I almost felt comforted by the deep dark tunnel. I knew that feeling so well since I had been living in it for the past few months. But is that where I needed to go?

I woke up that next morning, with swollen eyes. I went to my closet and found a notebook from my last semester at school. I opened it up to the first page and called the phone number listed. I made my very first appointment to see a therapist.

I had made a choice that previous night. It was one of the hardest and most memorable choices I have ever made in my life. I cried myself to sleep because I didn’t really want to stop grieving. I wanted to live in sadness and pain, I wanted to hold onto him forever. And I knew that if I chose the tunnel with light, then that would mean I would possibly let go of the pain and sadness and anger.  There was a very small voice, buried deep within that night. “What if, Nicole?  What if there is more to do than just be sad and angry? What if you made a choice to figure out what your life can be like now? What if good can still exist? What if?” The nudging.. it was there again. It was small, but it was there and I felt it. It was the first time since dad passed that there was a hint of something else… maybe darkness is not my end.

My elective course that last semester was to fill a hole, a hole that I had worked hard to have. I had finished my senior thesis early so I could have an easier last semester. I believe things happen for a reason, sometimes we don’t know it until later, but I remember sitting in my elective course and thinking that my instructor was someone that I could really connect with. Of course, little did I know that I would be calling her, reaching out to her a few months later asking her to help save me from this deep dark hole.

I will be forever grateful for that night. The night I was given a choice. I can’t say it was the easier choice to take. In fact, it was a choice that made me work harder than ever. It was filled with pain about losing my dad, but really the choice I made was about figuring out what life was really all about and how did I want to live it.

Making choices.  I believe we always have choices in our lives. They can be simple or very complex. But really, I don’t think we ever have to be stuck. We all have the power to make them, you just have to find the courage and strength within to make those tough choices.  And there are always challenges with each choice we make. But ultimately, you have to ask yourself… “Which is the choice that will push me to grow in this life? Which choice will be hard, but worth it in the end?”

“We all make choices, but in the end our choices make us.” - Ken Levine

I am a balancer (not really, well sorta) of marriage, two girls (ages 2 & 4) with a full-time marketing job. I feel most at home outdoors, on the lake, in the mountains, wherever nature is in its purest form.  Tennessee has been my home my entire life. I grew up in Middle TN and then settled in Knoxville for 15 years while at college and beginning my career in Marketing.  I enjoy experiencing new places and things, but also love learning from others’ experiences which is why I am a follower of my dear friend Meghan’s blog and many others!

To open all 31 gifts in this 31 day celebration, visit here.