TEXARKANA MAGAZINE J ohn and I gave each other letters on the day of our wedding, November 15, 2008. I’ve kept them in our Bible ever since and just recently reread the one I wrote to him. As I read, I smiled at the 22-year- old version of myself, writing from my childhood bedroom after our rehearsal dinner. I wrote about my dreams for our future, optimistic about what I imagined our life would be like. In most ways, we’re still right on track, and our words remain true. One thing I wrote was, “I look forward to our unknown—our ups and downs, our children, rich and poor, and those times you can only get through with each other.” We have experienced all those unknowns and more over the last seventeen years. Looking back, knowing how we made it through each one, I wouldn’t change anything. I’ll be 40 next summer, and gracious alive, this Liz is different from 22-year-
than we’re not. We sit at the dinner table together maybe once a week, and Loca Luna is a weekly staple (shout out to Mr. Antonio & Mr. Gabriel). Every so often, John and I have an “I’m still here. You still here?” high-five as we carpool in different directions. We search for the pauses now, but like the others, I know this season will inevitably end as a new one begins. Our family lost both of John’s parents this year, just four months apart. While we lean on God’s promise and know they are spending eternity in Heaven, we find ourselves in one of those times we can only get through together. Cleaning out John’s childhood home and making decisions about what to do with their belongings wasn’t exactly on our Bingo card for 2025. As parents, we had to let our kids sit in some sadness we couldn’t make better and have conversations that were just plain hard. We’re reminded to give ourselves and others grace, especially entering a holiday season we’ve never experienced before, because there is no rule book on grief. Earlier this year, I realized the Flippos are no longer part of Texarkana’s “young generation” anymore, and I’m okay with that. We are rooted in our careers and community involvement and, for the most part, are staying settled. I’m not making much room for new things these days. I have fewer friends now than I did in 2008, but my relationships are more intentional and sacred now. We’re walking through life with our
old Liz. Perimenopause is knocking at my door, and this season of my life feels more grounded with less pressure to do all and to be all. I guess we were so busy surviving
I’ll be 40 next summer, and
and growing we didn’t realize how fast time was marching on. I miss some of the seasons past. When the kids were younger, the days felt long, but there was some pause in the chaos. We scheduled things around naps and didn’t attend evening events if it conflicted with bath and nighttime routines. We snuggled on the couch watching
gracious alive, this Liz is different from 22-year-old Liz. ”
Disney Junior, and nobody wanted to sleep away from home. Most outings included all five of us because one adult to the three of them was a logistical nightmare, so we spent our time together. Now, the Brothers are in first grade, and Gabbie is in fifth. Progress reports, compliments, and discipline are more meaningful. Emotions are high and can’t be as easily soothed with a good hug from Mom and a snack. But now we’re having more fun with family Uno games, and we really just like being around each other. We’ve redecorated living spaces in our home from “we need everybody where we can see them” to “everything must stay in the playroom on the other side of the house.” Since they’re more independent and aware of basic safety, we’re dreaming about putting a fireplace in the courtyard where the gate was once zip-tied to ensure no one escaped. Between Nutcracker practices, church, flag football, and dance lessons, we’re passing each other more
friends, celebrating their wins and feeling their disappointments as if they were our own. Conversations have matured out of the latest gossip and into honest, supportive ones. I’m more grateful for those friendships now than ever before. I suppose the last few months have offered moments of clarity to the life I’m living—I’m too young to be old, and too old to be young. I’m trading the ability to actually lounge by the pool for the first time in 10 years for the need to have real conversations about the world we are living in. Trying to balance the need for pause, but also, YOLO (You Only Live Once)! I’ve learned a lot that I could share with others, but there is a lot more life to live and lessons to learn. Our responsibilities are real and heavy, and as our kids get bigger, so will their problems. The unknowns won’t stop here, but if the next seventeen years are anything like the last, I’m looking forward to all the seasons to come.
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LIFE & STYLE
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