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Your name is not depression, your name is Beloved.

Your name is not bipolar, your name is Beloved.

Your name is not borderline personality disorder, your name is Beloved.

Your name is not schizophrenia, your name is Beloved.

You are not any of your illnesses. He has called you by your name.

surely this fun coffee drink will save me from my immeasurable exhaustion

do you want to see the best trail cam photo ever

let it be known he is chilling like crazy

In 1970, my mother's family adopted an intellectually disabled man named Horace. Horace was 56, and had been in an institution since 1921.

My uncle, who was 19, was working as an orderly at the institution where Horace lived. He only stayed a few months as the abuse he witnessed was too much for him. He had become friends with Horace and told him "I'll come back for you."

Horace replied "They all say that."

By that Christmas, Horace lived with my uncle and his family. My grandparents did the official adoption. Horace had never seen a Christmas tree, and that was his first real Christmas.

Horace died in 2010, at the age of 96. He laid down for a nap and just slipped away.

At least two generations of children grew up with him. He felt immortal to us. He loved Hot Wheels, pizza, cartoons and to talk to the portrait of my grandparents as he sat in his rocking chair.

He knew everyone's birthday. He loved unconditionally.

He had scars on his back from the institutions. If you asked him about that place, his face would screw up and he'd say "oh, it was a bad place. Bad place."

And for 40 years, he was safe, loved, and happy. He loved us in return.

No point to sharing this. But I still miss his laugh as he held a conversation with a portrait, whispering about his day to the people who had helped rescue him.

Memories of Horace:

Oh my god. 😭💕💕💕 The response to this in so little time is wonderful.

Horace deserved the world and I'm so happy his story moves people. Thank you for remembering him with me.

when u finish a really good game or book and suddenly reality closes in on u and u are just sitting there wishing it wasn't over yet but it's over and u have to deal w it. and other such feelings

the ceo of boeing has just admitted to killing whistleblowers - "it happens" he says

ok

BRO??

“My first end-of-life patient was a 97-year-old man. He had a much younger girlfriend; she was seventy-four. But they loved each other so much. Back when their spouses were still alive, the four of them had been great friends. They would double date together. And when their spouses passed away, the two of them became a thing. Every day she would come over for lunch. I’d always cook a little meal for them. I’d prepare the table; I’d lay out my little candles and my little flowers. As soon as she arrived I’d put on music and dim the lights, then I’d leave the room and go wait in the bedroom. They would cuddle and snuggle. And the beauty of it was, even though he couldn’t control his fluids at that point, she never minded the smell. Her love for him was so great that they would still kiss and all that good stuff. When the doctors said that it was time for him to go to hospice, he said he didn’t want to go. He told them that he wanted to come back home and die with me. I was with him in the end. My patients never die alone. Never, ever. One week after his passing I was hired by his girlfriend’s family. She had terminal Alzheimer’s, and I ended up staying with her for seven years. I fell in love with her. We were family, just family. She used to be a tap dancer. We’d sing together. And if she didn’t feel like singing, I’d sing. Even near the end, she always knew when something was wrong with me. When I wasn’t being the Gabby that she knew, she would always know. When the doctors said it was time for her to go to hospice, her children said: ‘We want her to die with Gabby.’ In the final days she wouldn’t eat, she’d lock her jaw. But she would always eat for me. One night I could see the fright in her eyes, and I knew it was time. My patients never die alone. Never, ever. So I climbed under the covers with her. And she passed away in my arms.”

Good morning, you have to be the thing that saves you

I ASKED GOD FOR A SAVIOUR AND HE SAID LOOK AT YOUR HANDS

My God sent His pure, perfect, holy son to earth so He could stretch out His arms and let sinful men nail His hands to a wooden cross because He knew my hands could never save me. How freeing and yet heavy and solid this truth is.

That post I made over new years had people at my THROAT for saying I only buy real leather. Sorry I really do think that wearing textured plastic that will fall apart in under 5 years and go on to irreparably poison the environment is the worse option here.

if you look into the mushroom leather or apple leather or cactus leather or any other plant-based alternatives, they're all still about 50-75% polyurethane. They'll still fall apart fast and then they wont decompose except into microplastics. They're just not sustainable. I thrift pretty much all my leather garments and some of them are 30 years old and still hold up like they're new. Like there's no contest.

I have been seeing a ridiculous amount of rainbows this pregnancy. I don't know what God is trying to tell me but each one has been a wonder of joy and comfort and beauty.

all life is sacred btw. you don't get to say that that life is somehow less deserving of life than any other. to try and claim that people with abnormalities should just die instead of being born is kinda eugenicist. sorry. also adoption exists. also also late term abortion is more dangerous than a caesar.

and yes. tied into all this is the self-evident fact that suicide is wrong, MAiD is wrong, that kind of stuff.

louder for the people in the back

tags credit to @margindoodles2407

I already knew, but it's nice to have a chart.

Well I didn’t know that chipotle was a raisin jalapeño

i was today years old when i found out "chipótle" was spanish for "jalapeños pepper raisen"

I like that serrano’s dried name is just “dried chili”

@psalm40speakstome