I mentioned in my last post my friend Teagan calls me jewelry. After I wrote that post, I started thinking about why I chose the name Julz in the first place for myself. 

My birth name was Clare, and my adopted name was Kathleen. I never once felt like a Kathleen or Kathy. I had felt this way since I was young; it sometimes sounded odd.

Many people called me by my maiden name, which was Parks, not because I asked them to; they said it was just more fitting for me. I had to agree.

I went by and answered to Parks, Sparks, Spark-plug, Sparkler, and Sparky. When I met Marty, he called me Sweets or some other name, but rarely Kathy.

I changed my name to Julz for many reasons. I wrote about it when I first started my blog in a post called I am Julz. 

I wanted a name that meant something to me. It needed to be something that represented me and my personality. I decided on Julz but almost went with Jade.

A jewel or a gemstone is precious with many different shapes and cuts. Some gemstones are opaque, and others are brilliant in color. Some gems like diamonds have many cuts which are glittery and sparkling.

A piece of jewelry can be made up of different types of gemstones. The jewels in that piece of jewelry represent me.

I have as many sides to me as cuts in a diamond. I am funny, sometimes a tough guy, or a softee that gets mushy and emotional. 

I am a hard worker and a daydreamer. I curse like a sailor but have a deep spiritual connection with God. I am a leader and a teacher but want to be taken care of when needed.

I am strong, a perfectionist, and highly driven, but I have allowed myself to be vulnerable, hurt, and heartbroken by a few people who were supposed to love me. 

I try to be generous and kind but do the people I love wrong or me, and I will be in your face so fast it will make your head spin. I like peaceful moments and know when to keep quiet, but I love being loud, dancing and laughing. 

Yes, I have many sides, represented as the cuts in the jewels that make up me; I am a precious piece of jewelry. My name is Julz; this is me!

*** The photo of the Crown Jewels of Ireland popped out when I looked at images for inspiration. I read the Popsugar article and decided I wanted to use it. Ironically, through Ancestory.com, I found out I am more than 70% Irish, something no one ever guessed, not even me.

I met Teagan four summers ago at the Saratoga Farmers Market. She was in a wheelchair being pushed by her mom Holly. They stopped at my spätzle booth; I gave them the spatzle spiel and a sample. Teagan loved it. Holly was thrilled she loved it. 

Teagan and her mom Holly visited me every couple of weeks at the farmers market. Some weeks Teagan was too sick to come with her. Teagan was battling cancer again for the second time in her short life. 

It was heartbreaking for Teagan to stay home because I knew the chemotherapy was making her very ill. I was glad our spätzle was one of the few things she could tolerate and eat during this terrible time, plus she loved it.

After Holly would come by to pick up Teagan’s spätzle, I would get so emotional and sometimes wept on my way home. I remember questioning God why he chose this for Teagan, such a beautiful, sweet girl.

One day just before Christmas, Holly seemed upset. I was amazed how she could hold it together and be so strong for Teagan. It seemed Teagan wasn’t doing well, and Holly was afraid. We hugged each other at the indoor market, both of us crying. I prayed harder than I had ever prayed before.

I saw Teagan once at the beginning of covid; then I stopped doing the Saratoga market since we decided to grow our wholesale business and only concentrate on doing one farmers market. 

I was friends with Holly on Facebook and was able to keep tabs on how Teagan was doing. For a while, they made endless trips to the ER and hospital. The chemo was taking a toll on her body. 

Then guess what? She got better! She kicked cancer in the butt twice. Her hair was growing back! She was smiling, and so was Holly. She didn’t need her wheelchair anymore.

I watched Teagan finally get to go on her Make a Wish Disney cruise after being canceled numerous times due to covid. I saw how beautiful she looked in her prom dress she got to go to this spring. This made me cry tears of joy.

I saw Holly in person for the first time two weeks ago. She came to Troy to pick up some spätzle for Teagan. I told her to say ‘hi’ to Teagan for me. 

Teagan always calls me Jewelry, and she would correct her mother when she referred to me as Julz. When she gave her my message, she said you meant “Jewelry?” I got a big laugh when Holly messaged me later that day.

Last Saturday, I saw Holly. I was surprised since I had seen her the week before. She told me Teagan wanted to come to see me. I waited for Teagan to come by, then, through a sea of people, I spotted her at the same time she spotted me. 

She started running towards me, I ran out of the spätzle booth, and we hugged each other. You could almost hear music playing like when that happens in a movie.

Can I tell you that was the biggest and best hug I may have ever gotten? I started to get emotional but pulled myself together in under 2 seconds when I looked at how happy and healthy she was and silently thanked God. 

We talked about her prom and her trip. It was like the entire world stopped when we were talking to each other. Her smile could not only light up a room but the whole sky!

Teagan is my hero; her mother is one too. What this family went through not once but twice required so much strength and love. Teagan had the will to kick cancer’s butt because she has many things she is determined to do, like going to prom and back to school. 

Cancer affects everyone in a family. Teagan has two older brothers and a giant circle of family and friends that love and support her and Holly. I watched on Facebook how wonderful her brothers are with her, even when they are away at school. I met one of them at the market on Saturday, and we laughed that we both know a lot about each other. 

Being reunited with Teagan was a special moment in my life. Watching her run towards me still makes me smile. If it weren’t for our spätzle business, I never would have met Teagan. Everyone comes into your life with a purpose; maybe hers was to show me what true determination and strength look like.

I know I am just one small person in her big circle of supporters and fans. How lucky am I?

*** I knew I wanted to write about Teagan; this blog post practically wrote itself this morning during production. I sent Holly a message asking her if it would be ok, and she said, “Of course.” I always ask permission before writing a blog piece about someone else. I’ve only been turned down once and respected the person’s wishes.

I rediscovered our library here in Arlington last winter. We have a lovely library and a great selection of books. I used to take the boys there weekly when they were little.

I have been staying off social media except for business stuff on Facebook and Instagram. I jump around my pages like a madman avoiding as much negativity as possible. 

I haven’t watched the news either because when I do, the stress and anxiety attacks I’ve been having are relentless. For my own mental health, this is what I have chosen; to live under a rock. Ironically, I’ve been sleeping better as well.

I went online and looked up the summer reading list for 2022 and made my own list which included other light, romantic, fictional novels about history and food. 

I found a shit load of books online and made a list in notes on my iPhone so that I won’t leave it home while at the library; I can’t lose it either. 

My shopping lists are always left behind on the kitchen counter when I am at the store. When I remember, I take a photo of the list, but not always. It infuriates me when I forget the list because my mind goes blank as I wander up and down the aisles of the food store. 

Luckily, today the library hours are 9-8; after production and lunch, I went to look for books. The place was empty and quiet, which was fantastic.

I found a book from the 2022 summer reading list right away. I also found one of the culinary romantic novels as well. This is a perk of living in a small town; popular books are available and not checked out. 

When I was young, I loved reading. I used to walk to the library all the time. Reading took me away from the shit in my own life and transported me to faraway places and different timelines. 

I made “new friends” with the characters in the books and was sad when I finished the book. I was always pissed when the book had a shitty ending. Whenever I would finish a series of books, it left me heartbroken and empty, not knowing what to read next. I know this is a little dramatic, but that’s how it felt to a 13-year-old girl.

I loved reading on vacations at the beach or a pool when I got older. After we had children, my dad died, and dealing with my mother; I didn’t have the concentration to read. I tried many times but couldn’t concentrate. I desperately needed the escape, but it wouldn’t happen.

I did love reading out loud to the boys when they were little. I used many different voices and made the books exciting, funny, and enchanting. Even though they loved when I read stories and books theatrically to them, neither grew up to be readers; they took after Marty in that respect. That’s ok.

After I checked out my books today, I marked on my calendar when they are due since they don’t stamp the date in the back like they used to. I used to play library as a kid whenever I had a stamper and an ink pad. Sam took after me as a child when it came to imaginary play. It would make me smile whenever I saw him setting up a school room, store, or office like I did.

I know many people love reading and downloading books on their Kindles, but I like to hold a book in my hands and turn the pages. I am old-fashioned regarding a few things, and this is one of them. 

Now, I have to decide which book to start first. I look forward to reading at the pool, front porch, and back deck. This will be much healthier for me than staring at my phone in disbelief. 

After I finish these, I have a list of 25 other books to search for and read. I’m so happy I can concentrate and read again. I look forward to escaping this crazy world we live in and being transported to another place and time, just like I did when I was young. 

It’s the damndest thing. Since I turned 50 6 years ago, or even a couple of years before that, I put limits on myself without really knowing it. When I thought of myself and how I looked I was fighting a battle that I wasn’t going to win. 

It’s taken me well over a year on this self-acceptance journey, and I finally woke up and realized I was practically there. It’s harder than I expected to grow old gracefully. Hard af to be honest.

I blamed wearing black all the time on trying to hide my new size and body. I tried wearing color and realized that wasn’t it. I refused to wear shorts or feel comfortable going out bare-faced. I hated looking in the mirror because all I saw were wrinkles and a post-menopausal body. 

I was depressed because I realized none of the miracle creams were going to help my crepey neck or the skin above my knees. This was the real reason I discovered why I wouldn’t wear shorts anymore.

Finally, without warning, my brain said, “enough of this ridiculous bullshit.” I finally accepted the inevitable; I was getting older after years of fighting it. I’ve written about how getting old is a privilege, but now I believe it.

I am wearing shorts again, including cut-off denim shorts. I bought ones already cut off with holes in them. They still look like they did on me when I was younger; however, they are slightly longer and more appropriate. They are not cut up to the crack of my ass like Daisy Duke’s shorts.

I am back to wearing playful t-shirts and bikinis. This, my friends, is a big thing for me. I don’t need to hide behind tankinis anymore; that made me feel disgusting anyway. 

Our trip to Vegas last year was eye-opening in so many ways. I saw many women older, bigger, and wrinkled than me rocking their shit and owning it. Saying fuck it. They weren’t wearing teeny bopper clothing but cute, sexy, stylish, trendy clothing and bathing suits.

This spring, I had the urge to go shopping for shorts. This fall, I went black to wearing black not to hide my body, but because I like it. It is not a shroud of shame; it’s that I like black and gray, damn it. I still add a pop of color here and there when I feel like it.

What does all this mean? It means I feel younger again, not on the outside but within. I sometimes feel beautiful, cute, and sexy, and I don’t hate everything I see in the mirror or in photos. 

They say age is only a number or to be young at heart. I had always believed those sayings but lost sight of them when my body changed. I am a confident person but lost a big piece of me. I no longer feel betrayed, ashamed, or disgusted by my body.

When I looked in the mirror this morning before heading out to make a delivery in East Greenbush, NY, I saw my old self and liked what I saw. 

You know what? I can and will rock that shit like those women I saw in Vegas. I wish I wouldn’t have waited so long.

Happy Friday! Have a great Fourth of July weekend. My sister Jen is coming to visit on Saturday for the weekend. It will be fun, and the weather looks excellent on Sunday, our first day off in a few weeks.