Samantha Jane Buice

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My grandmother gave me some helpful advice this morning. She usually does. She is a fountain of wisdom, a source of strength in my life. We spoke on the phone for a while today, longer than usual. She sounded happy, and hopeful. If there comes a day when everything is wrong, Sandy puts a positive spin on the situation. God listens to her prayers, and God answers.

I have expressed my love and gratitude for my adopted grandmother, but she is worthy of much more. I would like to share a bit about our relationship.

When I was sixteen, I was helping with Vacation Bible School at my church. In the life of a preacher’s kid, I have often been roped into volunteer work. This year was special. My area of expertise is art, so I was assigned to the arts and crafts station. I wasn’t the sole leader. A wonderful, talented, energetic, fun, funny and endearing woman worked by my side. Over the course of the week, we spent quite some time getting to know each other. I learned that she didn’t have grandchildren. My grandparents live at a distance. I fell in love with Sandy, and asked her if she would be my grandmother. With tears in her eyes, she agreed to be adopted.

Over the years she watched me grow up, right by my side. Her house was located not far from mine in the Westcross Neighborhood, the distance of a one mile run and a halfway point before reaching home. I would often stop at her house for a “drink of water,” and that glass of water transformed into a soda, an ice cream sundae, and visits that lasted hours after the sunset.

If I had traveled by bicycle, my Grandaddy T would load the bike into their van and drive me home. If I ran to their house, though it was safe to run home, I also hitched a ride down the road to my house on Planter’s Lane.

I spent so much time hanging out with my grandma watching daytime television, shopping, walking and talking for hours. I vacationed at her house during the summer; when times were the hardest, I skipped school and hid out at her house where I felt safe, warm and loved. The feelings of dread and anxiety washed away with each moment I sat next to her. We have a close relationship to this day. Today her advice anchored me, tethering me to a reality that helps me face the truth without fear.

“When you fall, it’s not about how you fall. It’s about how you get up.”

Life is all about being positive and pulling through when times are hard. It is about leaving the negative feelings and triggers in your life behind, the reasons for your fall.

Give thanks for another day.

Help others.

Do something good.

Stay connected to people outside of your internet presence (six feet away and wearing a mask).

Take a deep breath.

Stay in the now.

Take nothing for granted.

Enjoy every moment.

I challenge you to enjoy every moment without trying to catch it on camera, and to limit your screen time.

In these times of anxiety and uncertainty, it is easy to lose track of time. Mornings turn to evenings so quickly. Time has confused us. It is slipping away as we prepare for what comes next, which is why it is so important to find ways to slow it down. Keep busy, stay productive, and do not take the special people in your life for granted. My life would not be the same without Sandy. I cherish her. She is a bright light in my life, and she glows brightest when I am in the dark. Her advice is sound, and I urge you to heed it.

—SJB

The season of Easter within my faith is the celebration of the living God. It is the miracle of the resurrection of Christ on the third day after the crucifixion. On Palm Sunday, Jesus’s followers paraded through the streets with gusto believing that their king and prophet was going to smite their enemies and raise them up to power. They had great expectations for the Son of God. Most did not listen, understand or accept his parables as he taught them what was to come. During the Last Supper, the disciples broke bread and drank wine together, symbolic of God’s sacrifice and the bond we all share with God even after death. Many did not understand the significance at the time. Their expectations were not fulfilled. As Jesus was dying they could not imagine a resurrection, though he tried countless times to open their eyes. This story has been passed down for thousands of years and we know what happens, but at the time the people did not. They relied on their faith as we do, but watching their hero appear vanquished made room for doubt in their hearts. When Jesus was resurrected, doubt was replaced with awe. We are now blessed with the knowledge of what transpired so long ago, though we did not witness these events first hand.

This year during the Palm Sunday service I cried as my father read the portion of Mark’s Gospel, in which Christ is crucified. I usually do. This year, even sitting at home attending virtual church I felt God’s presence within me and all around me. I broke out in chills. It was a very rainy day, and I found time to talk with God. I thought maybe the rain drops were tears from Heaven, expressing God’s sadness about the sacrifice which saved us from sin.

We preach that God is love, and not to be feared. We buy new spring dresses to wear to church. We have an Easter egg hunt after the service. An Easter bunny visits the children. Easter is about so much more than running around trying to collect the most candy. We must not forget this. This is a sacred week to study and pray. It is a time for silence and searching deep within ourselves to define what really controls our lives. Money? Power? Comfort? Material objects? It gives me hope and a feeling of security to have faith in a higher power we call by different names. We are all here together. I think we should try to make a conscious effort to help each other and to spread hope and love no matter what we believe. Jesus teaches me and many others that death is not the end. It is the beginning.

—SJB

I am currently experiencing the deepest depression I have encountered since the very first time I was depressed. It is not because of oatmeal, or apple juice, or any underlying reason I can think of. I haven’t been triggered. Still, the depression washes over me like a tidal wave from which I cannot surface. There are key differences between the depression I am suffering now and the first time it coursed through my veins. This time, I know that with the right medication and therapy I will push through to the other side. I have shared bits of my first depression story, but not all. I will try to recount those first few hard weeks.

When I was twelve years old, and Justin Timberlake was around eighteen or so, I had a mad crush on him. N*SYNC is indisputably the best boy band the world has ever known. When I was twelve, I loved listening to one of my favorite N*SYNC CDs every night, crying myself to sleep. It was so moving and romantic and I figured I would never love another person the way I loved Justin. But he would never know. I figure that’s a reason to cry, but it wasn’t the reason for my silent suffering and the tears that spilled from my eyes.

At the time, no one knew how to help, and I just thought it was normal to feel that sad. As time passed, I began to realize that there really was something going on in my mind but I didn’t know what to do about it. My pediatrician tried to figure me out, but psychiatry wasn’t his area of expertise, so my suffering continued for a few horrible weeks and then it became a little piece of myself that never truly went away. I stayed at home from school for about a week, wrapped up in comforters without an appetite and drinking only apple juice. This was a time of much change in my life. My family moved to an unfamiliar part of the state, and still my depression enveloped me. I skipped school, and my mom stayed by my side to help me with my mountain of make-up work. I remember sitting on the floor wrapped in an old blue sleeping bag while Mom and I made it through The Odyssey. Then the veil of depression was lifted and I went back to my new school, made friends, played soccer, and strived to be “normal.”

Now I am taking an anti-depressant in the mornings and it hasn’t really kicked in yet. I take a load of pills at night to help me sleep because that is very important for my condition. Mood stabilizers keep me from having too much energy, but lately they have been pushing me down really hard. The mood stabilizers I am currently taking are so very helpful most of the time, but they reduce the serotonin production in my brain. Serotonin is the chemical in our brains which causes us to feel happy. I have never felt so far away from happiness.

It is important to note that I am not suicidal, no matter how unhappy I am. I have many reasons to live, and many people I love. I will make it through this. That is the key difference between my first bout with depression and this one. I know I will heal, no matter how slowly. If you are feeling as miserable as I am and depression darkens your door, know that you are not alone. There is a light in the darkness.

This too shall pass.

—SJB

P.S. Now there is a man in my life who inspires smiles and laughter instead of the tears that JT brought upon me every night when I was twelve. I just had to wait twenty years.

National Suicide Hotline:

988

Good morning and Happy Friday! Have a great weekend!

—SJB