Fits and Giggles

I wish myself a year of challenges that provide new found strength in each obstacle. I wish myself a heart that is used only for good, that provides healing, care, compassion, sympathy and love to others, and joy and forgiveness to myself. I wish myself a year of having an open mind and understanding and learning about others in a real connected way. I wish myself the courage to continue to take leaps, break boundaries and understand and realize my biggest fears and dreams and strive to conquer them both. I wish myself a new found strength in my faith and a willingness and eagerness to develop a stronger spiritual relationship. I not only wish myself tears of joy, but also tears of pain, because through these I will know that I let myself take  experiences with vulnerability and lead with an openness to feel, and provide that respect to all who provide that in return. I wish myself a year of curiosity, adventure, and most of all happiness. Xoxo Abby C Ashton

So many chapters, as you can tell from the above, are consumed with rants, funny, sarcastic, full blowing out swear mouth paragraphs, which im sure the f bomb count will have my grandmas, one in particular, rolling her eyes, thinking abby...but this chapter is different. I’ve been told I’m sensitive in the recent months. This is something that wasn’t easy to hear, because I realized I try to come off as having it together, being strong, confident, not worried about those things called emotions. And let me set it straight, I am confident, I am strong, but god dammit I am sensitive. I am writing this to you, after just watching the YAYA sisterhood, now if you have never watched this movie, please indulge, it really just hits home, i think for anyone, and after you view it you can make up your own judgement about what thoughts or memories it brought back to you. For me, because again this is my book, it instantly had me in tears, not only because I thought about my friends, and...

I was told a story, from a new friend that I’ve had the privilege to meet while being home. It goes like this: There was a farmer, and he had his best horse run away, his neighbors were quick to respond on his bad luck. The farmer replies, “No one can know what is good and what is bad.” The horse returns with a stallion, the same neighbors are even quicker to respond with his good luck. The farmers replies, “Good luck, bad luck, who knows” The farmers son then severely hurts his foot while training the wild stallion. Again, neighbors are now certain of the farmers “bad luck”. That night, a war breaks out, and all able men are collected to fight. With the son’s injury, he was not able to go, and spared. The farmers response, “Good luck, bad luck, who knows.” This story was told to me, a day before my so called plan, came to a complete stand still and my life took a slight turn. My desire and passion to serve in the Peace Corp was one that I really can’t explain. Man...

As I ’m sitting here on the morning of June 10 th , 2019, I find myself reminiscing on this day, and trying to think what little Abby, at 3 years old, was feeling, thinking, wearing, on the day you were brought home. Knowing myself, I ’m sure there was a SLIGHT WTF is this little guy thinking, entering my only-child life, coming in and creating havoc among our 3 person family, because c’mon at 3, its okay to be a little selfish :) ANYWAYS, knowing myself, that all changed, the second I saw you. The second I held you, I knew that you were meant for us, our family wasn’t complete without you in it, and you gave me the best gift in the world, of being your big sister. At 3 years old, I didn’t understand the significance of this gift you gave me. I now had someone to lug around, to dress up, play school with, someone to play roller hockey in the basement with, someone to eat dinners and lunches, and go to the beach with. I didn’t understand how lucky I was to have you as I...

Growing up us a little girl, understanding what happiness was, was never a concern of mine. Before we are given life’s lessons, of loss, disappointment, failure, heartbreak, and rejection, we don’t know any better, but to simply be. To be who we are without second guessing our decisions. To laugh, love, ask for help, because its born instincts driving our needs, and its out of pure innocence that we are truly recognizing happiness.  Now what they don’t tell you when they pop out into this magical world, is that this fairy tale world you want stay in, has an expiration date, and growing up, is not an option. You then begin to enroll into this insane path that you are given, that is unique only to your story. You are blindsided with a reality that is not perfect, full of disappointment, heartache, failures, and rejection, and your idea of what true happiness is starts to spin into a chaotic cycle.  With this chaos, you search for peace, you search for answers, your only...

I don’t know how or who came up with the philosophy of having days dedicated to individuals, or really what goes into actually making a specific day, revolve around a specific theme, meaning or person, but I do know I am very thankful to whomever for this specific day dedicated to fathers.  The philosophy behind this day, of being able to take a second, to stop, and let that father or father figure or figure that took on a important role in your life, know how much you care and have grown from them is priceless.  So let me take my second to tell you about my Dad, Gregory. D. Ashton. My dad has always had this silent-genuine-caring-ability about him. He doesn’t have to say much to let you know how much he truly cares, it’s just a way he is, that you never question his loyalty or motives, he would take a bullet for anyone in his family, and the fact that he doesn’t have to constantly prove that, is what makes him different. He has a calmness about him, and sincerit...

When I have an overwhelming feeling or experience or a mood swing-ishness I write, and explain, and publish, because it’s in all entirely freeing and it’s almost like a scratch you can’t itch, it does not stop scratching until you’re able to reach that spot, find some weird object that enables you to get to the spot, and itch the damn thing.  This is me itching and getting the damn spot.  Growing up, I always was fortunate enough to always have family around. I was never more then 20 minutes away, and was always able to make it home if I needed to be home. This was familiar to me, and I really didn’t know anything but.  What I realized was how much I missed this when I moved away, and wasn’t able to jump in my bug/s (if you know me you know) jeep, or whatever I was driving at that time and hop in my car and go to my grandma’s house to make applesauce, or go to my grandma’s house for stuffed shells, or go upstairs and simply sit in the same room as my brot...