twloha:

“If I Didn’t Have You In my World”
Vince Gill

“If I didn’t have you in my world, what a lonely place my world would be.”

My grandmother was a spunky woman who always seemed to be in the know. She was consistently up on current events in the local, national, and international news and oftentimes compared them to the happenings of yesteryear. Even better was the history lesson I received every time I visited her, because stepping into her home was like taking a time machine through the 1900s. Collections of items from every decade of that century lined the walls of her house. Needless to say, my gram was extremely memorable and full of memories.

She used to tell me all about my relatives and who was connected to whom. Eventually I would lose track of names, look at her, and just smile and nod. My mom always wanted to take a mother-daughter trip to Sweden, where our family is from, so the two of them could not only learn more about this family history she shared with us, but also to spend some quality time together. Sadly, my gram passed away too soon for the trip to take place.

Losing someone is painful, regardless of whether the parting is planned or unexpected. As people come and go in our lives, there are some who find a special place in our hearts, a place where the thought of losing them is too hard to bear, too painful to even consider as an option, because they are so important to us.

I chose the song “If I Didn’t Have You In My World” by Vince Gill as my song of the week, because he captures this message perfectly. His words are simple and straightforward, expressing how much a person can mean to another human being, proving that we cannot live, or even survive, in this world alone.

Just over a week ago, I saw Vince Gill perform at the Ryman Auditorium in Nashville, TN. I was there on vacation with my mom, and this event happened to be a benefit concert for Mental Health America of Middle Tennessee. I found this both ironic and fitting, as it aligned not only with what I do for work, but because it meant so much to me personally. This artist was taking the time to openly discuss mental health and raise awareness about the painful realities that so many millions deal with on a daily basis. He was bringing attention to something I wholeheartedly believe in, and in doing so, my respect for him deepened.

The trip I took with my mom last week meant the world to me, because I felt fortunate enough to have this opportunity with her, a mother-daughter trip just to spend some time together, one that she and her own mother did not. I hope when you listen to this song the words become a reminder to you, as you go into this week, that you are memorable, you matter, and you are loved.

Take advantage of spending time with those that you love, both now and in the future, because while life may be short, it is most definitely worth living.

With Hope,

Nichole
TWLOHA Staff

twloha:

“If I Didn’t Have You In my World”
Vince Gill

“If I didn’t have you in my world, what a lonely place my world would be.”

My grandmother was a spunky woman who always seemed to be in the know. She was consistently up on current events in the local, national, and international news and oftentimes compared them to the happenings of yesteryear. Even better was the history lesson I received every time I visited her, because stepping into her home was like taking a time machine through the 1900s. Collections of items from every decade of that century lined the walls of her house. Needless to say, my gram was extremely memorable and full of memories.

She used to tell me all about my relatives and who was connected to whom. Eventually I would lose track of names, look at her, and just smile and nod. My mom always wanted to take a mother-daughter trip to Sweden, where our family is from, so the two of them could not only learn more about this family history she shared with us, but also to spend some quality time together. Sadly, my gram passed away too soon for the trip to take place.

Losing someone is painful, regardless of whether the parting is planned or unexpected. As people come and go in our lives, there are some who find a special place in our hearts, a place where the thought of losing them is too hard to bear, too painful to even consider as an option, because they are so important to us.

I chose the song “If I Didn’t Have You In My World” by Vince Gill as my song of the week, because he captures this message perfectly. His words are simple and straightforward, expressing how much a person can mean to another human being, proving that we cannot live, or even survive, in this world alone.

Just over a week ago, I saw Vince Gill perform at the Ryman Auditorium in Nashville, TN. I was there on vacation with my mom, and this event happened to be a benefit concert for Mental Health America of Middle Tennessee. I found this both ironic and fitting, as it aligned not only with what I do for work, but because it meant so much to me personally. This artist was taking the time to openly discuss mental health and raise awareness about the painful realities that so many millions deal with on a daily basis. He was bringing attention to something I wholeheartedly believe in, and in doing so, my respect for him deepened.

The trip I took with my mom last week meant the world to me, because I felt fortunate enough to have this opportunity with her, a mother-daughter trip just to spend some time together, one that she and her own mother did not. I hope when you listen to this song the words become a reminder to you, as you go into this week, that you are memorable, you matter, and you are loved.

Take advantage of spending time with those that you love, both now and in the future, because while life may be short, it is most definitely worth living.

With Hope,

Nichole
TWLOHA Staff

twloha:

“Seventeen”
Youth Lagoon

longing |ˈlôNGiNG| - noun: a yearning desire.

When I was twelve, twenty-five felt like it was a lifetime away. Twenty-five was old, and I would probably have tacky brown carpet in the home of the gated retirement community I lived in. Granted, my current apartment does have tan carpet and some would say Florida is one giant retirement community itself.

Still, here I am. Twenty-five. Male. Tan carpet. My twenty-two-year-old friends say, “Hey, old man.” My twenty-eight-year-old friends say, “You have so much life ahead.” Thanks to twenty-five, I now occasionally have to eat healthy because everyone who said all those bacon and cheese fries I ate from Outback would catch up with me were actually right. My knees hurt more than I would care to say. I have a frequent desire to go to a golf course. And there’s apparently something called a 401K I’m supposed to look into.

Longing can be a tricky thing.

I’ve learned it’s not limited to my own experiences, or anyone’s really. You can long for worlds you’ve created in your head.

You can long to go back to when you were on the moon, or even when a race to the moon was something that electrified society. You can long for when you swung from a tire attached to a rope into a lake. You can long for the smell of fried chicken filling up your home after you were out running around your neighborhood finding ways to build and destroy your innocence.

Longing has no lines to cross. It just expands in your chest until each step you take cracks the pavement.

“Don’t stop imagining. The day that you do is the day that you die.”

I tend to listen to Youth Lagoon’s The Year of Hibernation without a touch of reality in mind. I find myself longing for that classic summer montage where I’m in the passenger seat of a car full of friends whose faces filled each day for two solid months. That scene with the windows down and the beach and ocean and falling sun to the right. The kind of moment that could last forever.

I don’t want to believe I never got to live this memory. This album leaves me longing for it nonetheless, and that is enough.

Longing can be a tricky thing.

—Chris
TWLOHA Staff