It's been a minute... or two
I haven’t written here in a while. I would reintroduce myself, but it’s my website—so of course you know who I am. If you don’t, just read my other blog posts and you’ll probably be even more confused than when you started. So yeah, there’s been a lot going on in my life since I last wrote.
checks last blog post… yikes… almost six years ago
Let’s see... there was the pandemic—that was a whole thing. I landed my first agency job at the end of 2020. Did some solid work. Got promoted. Then, a couple years later, I decided to buy a fixer-upper—and boy, did it need some fixer-upper-ing. Three years and some of the longest days of my life later, I was pretty pleased with the results. (Also can’t forget to mention that I got a new puppy at the same time.)
Alright. New job? Check. New house? Check. New puppy? Check.
I think that takes us up to 2025-ish. A whole lotta nothing happened in between, so I’ll spare you the details. (You’re welcome.)
It’s June. It’s hot as hell. I want to move into my new house that has air conditioning. So I finally do. Slowly but surely, I start making the place feel like home. I had my routine. I was happy. Life was great. Honestly, I was at peak Enrike. It was also the first time I’d ever lived on my own. Unfortunately, what I didn’t share much of was something deeply personal.
As we approached September, life started to feel different. We went on our usual family trip. When we came back, I could see my mom was struggling with her health. Trips in and out of the hospital were nothing new for our family, but this time felt different.
I cried a lot.
There were so many nights of trying to hold it together. Picking myself back up. Hiding tears while sitting beside my mom's hospital bed when she could barely talk to me. I lived with my parents until 2025 so I could help care for my mom. That meant I got to see her every day. I would do it all again. And I'd ask for more time. Near the end, my mom could barely speak. She was hardly awake. And when she did talk, it felt like she was somewhere between this world and another. She talked about having meals with her family. Having dinner with my grandparents. And of course, she talked about my dad not doing something the right way.
Love you, Dad. Mom was a little stubborn.
After watching her battle through so much, I could tell this time she wasn't leaving the hospital. On December 17th, she passed away. Life hasn’t been the same since. Every day there are little reminders of her. My family is learning how to navigate life without my mom around. I may not always show it, but there are definitely hard days mixed in there. Every tear I shed—even as I write this—is to honor the incredible woman my mom was. She fought through Lupus. Heart attacks. Strokes. Raynaud’s. Surgeries. Double amputations. Through it all, she was a warrior.
Okay. Taking a deep breath and aggressively wiping away my tears. As life continued on, I went on an amazing work trip to Spain, which was definitely much needed. Then, almost immediately after getting back home, my dad and I decided to buy a second house.
So naturally, I moved again. Twice in one year felt excessive, but here we are.
I've been settling into this new place ever since. Trying to make it feel like home. Enjoying the pool. Hosting family barbecues. Living for those nights spent under the string lights talking with family for hours. There’s been so much change since the last time we all gathered here on this blog—or even since I’ve responded to some texts, if we’re being honest. I’ve just been taking more time for myself and spending more time with the people I love.
Story time is over. Go call your mom. Your dad. Your sibling. Your friend. Whoever that special person is in your life. Tell them you love them. I mean it. Get coffee. Grab dinner. Go for a walk. Make the phone call. Spend more time with the people you love.
I love you. Thank you for reading and joining me for what unexpectedly turned into a cry session.
I’ll write again soon.
Stay cute,
Enrike