Home
About Chels
Quotes & Memes by Chels
Featured On…
Contact & Collaboration

FACEBOOK INSTAGRAM

November 15, 2022

It Wasn’t a House That Built Me

Archives by Month:

First Name

Last Name

Email address

Leave this field empty if you're human:

FACEBOOK INSTAGRAM

💙 © Chelsea Ohlemiller: www.hopeandharshrealit

💙
© Chelsea Ohlemiller: www.hopeandharshrealities.com (link in bio) Follow Happiness, Hope & Harsh Realities on FB for more content.
#grief #griefquotes #griefandloss #griefjourney #griefsupport #griefawareness #motherlessdaughter #motherlessdaughters #losingamother #loss

I cannot believe I get to make this announcement,

I cannot believe I get to make this announcement, as it’s truly a dream come true.

I’ve been waiting for all of the contracts to be signed and the paperwork to be finalized, and now that it is, I can finally share.

I accepted an offer with Revell, a division of Baker Publishing, to write my first book!!!!

I’m writing a book, y’all! It’s really happening!

My very own book— with my heart and my soul on each and

I get every page. A book you’ve been asking for. A book I’ve been called to write. A book that I dream would/will make my mother proud.

This book will be for you, for me, and for anyone that has known the loss of a mother. It will have some of your favorite and most-loved pieces, and many more that you’ve never seen.

From the bottom of my heart, thank you for reading my work each day. It’s the very reason this book is becoming a reality! This community is so encouraging and supportive and I’m so incredibly grateful.

Stay tuned for all of details of the journey. There will be lots of opportunities to be involved.

A huge thank you to my agent who saw something in my writing that was worth taking a chance on, and to my editor Rachel and the entire Revell team, for seeing something special in my words and having faith in my work in a way that still feels like a dream come true. I cannot put into words how much of a blessing they all are!

Thank you— to every single person that follows this page and every single person that has encouraged my writing path! Now, let’s write a book!

xox, Chels @debbiealsdorf @revellbooks

His death has always felt so incredibly unfair. He

His death has always felt so incredibly unfair. He was taken at the peak of the ‘glory days’, where the naivety of youth still clouded our judgment, and where our only priorities were fun and freedom.

He was my first friend, though in reality he was always more like a brother. All of my childhood memories include him– from birthday parties to holidays, from sleepovers to daycare, he was there, always.

My mother kept a photo of him and I in the living room of my childhood home. It sat next to pictures of my grandparents and my cousins. That picture of us was always one of my favorites. He wore his favorite Honda shirt and I donned a red Kool-aid grin while my arm was draped around him. You can tell how from our smiles we were two peas in a pod. You can see carefree joy and youthful bliss.

He was probably the first boy I ever loved. Never in a romantic way, but in the way that you love your sister or your best friend.

In the same way that we loved each other like family, we argued with each other like family too. I still tell the story of the time my parents took a rap CD of mine and gave it to him. Somehow being two years older got you added privileges. Either way, I still managed to memorize the lyrics to Dr. Dre and Snoop Dogg– CD or not. And even now I think of that memory with a chuckle and a roll of my eyes.

He had two distinct smiles, the one that told you he cared for you and the one that told you he was scheming trouble. Both were contagious.

We grew up together, though we grew differently. Different circles, different crowds, but that never changed the way he showed up for me or the way I looked up to him. He was family. He would make me laugh when I needed it or stand tall as my protector when highschool boys didn’t meet his standards. He had a heart that was one-of-a-kind with a tough red-headed exterior.

He had a trifecta of loves in his life– cars, music and his daughter. The last being his greatest joy and his greatest asset. She shaped his heart and smile in ways that no one could have predicted. He loved a couple of girls in his life, but his daughter held his love in a way that would remain unmatched.
CONTINUED IN COMMENTS…

They say death comes in threes and for her it’s

They say death comes in threes and for her it’s true. She sits, paralyzed by another death, another loss, another incomprehensible piece of her story erased before she was ready and before she even had time to comprehend the ones before.

She wonders how to continue stepping foot into each new day with all of the heartache of the grief and all of the fear of the unknowns. She wonders how she got here, hurting this deeply, so young, still naive to the world’s harsh capabilities.

She thinks of her friends, the ones that haven’t experienced profound loss, which she now realizes is all of them. They still have grandparents, some even great grandparents, and here she is having lost one of the solid foundations to her family and two other special people. Losses multiplied and compiled within months of each other, an addition of pain and a subtraction of those that remain. It feels wrong in a way that she cannot express to anyone around her.

It feels like a pain that she will not survive.

Lucky for her, she is surrounded by a support system that feels as sturdy as steel. She knows she has people to lean on when she feels herself falling. She knows she has people to help her up when she has fallen to her knees in unbearable and invisible pain. She knows not everyone gets this luxury, which is where the small sliver of hope that she carries comes from. When she is ready, she knows she has people to help her pick up the pieces that remain, no matter how broken or shattered they are. She has help.

She realizes that she holds more grief than she knew existed and a unique pain that no one truly prepared her for– though she wonders if this is preparable. Can you comprehend something of this magnitude if you’ve never lived it? Can you imagine something when you’ve never felt its sting or its destruction? She doesn’t think so. CONTINUED IN COMMENTS…

everything. © Chelsea Ohlemiller: www.hopeandhar

everything.
© Chelsea Ohlemiller: www.hopeandharshrealities.com (link in bio) Follow Happiness, Hope & Harsh Realities on FB for more content.
#grief #griefquotes #griefandloss #griefjourney #griefsupport #griefawareness #motherlessdaughter #motherlessdaughters #losingamother #loss

💙 © Chelsea Ohlemiller: www.hopeandharshrealit

💙
© Chelsea Ohlemiller: www.hopeandharshrealities.com (link in bio) Follow Happiness, Hope & Harsh Realities on FB for more content.
#grief #griefquotes #griefandloss #griefjourney #griefsupport #griefawareness #motherlessdaughter #motherlessdaughters #losingamother #loss

copyright © xox Chelsea Ohlemiller blog design by Koba Themes