What Do You Want to Be When You Grow Up?

When I was a little girl with pigtails and a red hooded jacket playing rugby, I wanted to be an astronaut.
A few years later at age 6 I decided I wanted to be President of the United States of America.
Then I changed occupational goals to Scientist until I had to dissect a frog in 7th grade.

Sometime around age 9  I began to gain weight, a love of newts, an unforgettable mullet haircut, & puberty.

A growth spurt hit. While rehearsing for the play Mame, a fellow thespian Scott pointed out you could see my chest through my shirt. I was not as embarrassed by the things taking over my chest as I was inconvenienced. I hated bra shopping, clothes-shopping, and don't even get me started on makeup. Unconcerned with boys as much as my classmates, I focused my time writing an unseen screenplay for "Saved By the Bell" and became a vegetarian pursuing archaeology.

My story is most likely standard for tomboys everywhere. I was more interested in playing "Golden Eye" and drinking hot Natural Ice with my guy friends than finding a boyfriend. I was more interested in skateboarding, tagging structures, making music than wasting my life perusing "Hot Topic" for a trendy shirt to peacock. Some assumed I was a lesbian because I was not like other girls who spent hours shopping, dressing, tweezing or shaving to get male attention. It was the 90s & grunge was popular; it was so easy to get away with dressing comfortably. After Kurt Cobain's death, grunge lost it's luster for me. I found out that dreads were a thing and quickly chose "Hippie" as my fashion religion.

I thrived being the outcast rebelling against gender roles, societal expectations, and people who told me I couldn't.

When did I let external pressures finally collapse me from the inside?
When did I decide to shrink my esteem, my goals, and myself to fit inside a tiny box?
When did I start to give af?

It wasn't merely one event, but rather a myriad of insidious seeds planted throughout my existence, but at what point did I willingly succumb to them?

I still haven't figured it out completely; perhaps I never will.

Stay true to yourself.
Don't let the bastards get you down.
xo Cheriebobomb

Sandy's Memorial

Here are my readings from my sister Sandy's memorial last Saturday. 

For anyone who doesn't know me, I am Sandy's 

youngest sister Cherice, although many of you know me as Lana. 

I was a baby when Sandy moved from Nashville to Hickory, NC. to begin a family of her own. However, a few weeks after I was born Sandy gifted me the tattered, pink-eyed stuffed lamb you see on her table.

Now I don't recall exactly how, but so it's been told, Sandy would sing a song from a jelly commercial to me along the lines of 'lamba jamba, lamma jamma,' and thus the nickname "Lana" was born.

My fondest memories of Sandy were from when I was younger, and the family would go to visit her in North Carolina for Thanksgiving or Christmas.

Sandy's face would light up upon our arrival. They didn't have a lot, but she graciously opened up her home to us and the house was so full of love and laughter that we had everything we needed.

Around the holidays a nearby nursing home would decorate their yard with various holiday displays and allow people to drive through the campus to view the decorations. My fondest memory was of the family packing into the car and driving for what felt like hours as a kid to view the lights and displays of Jesus in the manger and Santa and the elves. My personal favorite was a Peanuts scene featuring a motorized Snoopy that ice-skated in a huge circle. We'd listen to Christmas music and sing carols. That car ride felt like "love." Those are times I will always cherish.

It's so true what they say about life accelerating quicker after you turn 30. So, with school, jobs, and family it is so easy for years to pass in the blink of an eye. Even though we weren't as close as we once were, Sandy still made time to be present and we'd occasionally exchange messages, music and funny videos through social media. When Caleb passed her messages were a lot of comfort to me just knowing how much she cared and shared the loss of someone she never had a chance to meet.

But that was Sandy: kind, tender-hearted, and compassionate, I believe these strong qualities are what compelled her to be active in her church and pursue her nursing degree. 

Because I don't know many details about Sandy's later life besides her being ill the last several years, I have spent the last several weeks trying to learn as much about Sandy as I could to give her a proper memorial, but I discovered that even without all the details we knew who Sandy was in our hearts.

I don't know what her favorite flower or color was, but I know she loved pretty things. 

I know she loved American Idol and X-factor musicians, and Adele, and she had a beautiful singing voice.

I know she loved babies and children -- especially her own children Matt and Randy Jr.

I know she was hilarious, and I rarely saw her without a smile on her face.

And she was a Collins, so we know she must have somewhat stubborn and very determined. 

And Sandy was intelligent as she said school was always a lifesaver for her and 'doing well in school made her feel confident and strong.'

She used laughter to cope with life's most difficult challenges and I know she loved her family.

Time or distance did not ever change that.

I know she was devout, and her beliefs brought her comfort throughout her life and she knew that she'd be reunited with her son Randy Jr. one day. 

Sandy was a wonderful sister, a loving wife and mother, a diligent student, and a compassionate nurse. 

She will ne greatly missed.

I'd like to close with this poem I had sent to all my sisters years ago. 

Poem: 

Prayer: