Author Archives: Adrienne Barrilleaux

Growing up I had a pretty good relationship with my grandma. She’s my dads mom. Me and my siblings would spend weekends and holidays at her house. I always thought that was part of the divorce agreement. Some of my best memories when I was a kid are from her. Mardi Gras weekend at her house. Camping. She even took us to Disney world once. Sound of Music, Dirty Dancing and Grumpy Old Men. But I also remember her taking us to get our back to school haircuts, clothes shopping and even giving my mom a makeshift child support check because my dad never did. It wasn’t much but she did not have to do that but it definitely helped us.

Me moving in with her was never part of a plan. It just happened. Me and my roommates were dispersing and she had an extra bedroom. My family moved her to Raceland so she could be closer to family and get her out of the city. She was living in a two story house in New Orleans by herself. My dad was living with him when he became sick but once he passed we noticed she wasn’t herself. It seemed like his death accelerated her Alzheimer’s. So when the house around the corner from my uncle was for sale, he bought it for her. That was over 5 years ago.

I watched my grandma open every cabinet and drawer looking for the trash can. She couldn’t find the trash can so she just left her trash by the sink. She had just empty her plate in the trash can not even 2 minutes before. And later tonight she will throw something away properly in the trash can.

Alzheimer’s doesn’t make sense. How can she remember something from 60 years ago but not last week. Or even 2 minutes ago.

It’s been interesting to say the least watching this disease attack her brain and turn her into something she is not. When I got home from work the sitter told me that it was a bad day. Which I could tell because the second I walked in the house I could hear my grandma yelling. My grandma was not a mean person. Though I can remember a few times she fussed at me and my siblings when we were younger but nothing like I hear when I walk in the door. Usually it takes me about an hour to calm my grandma down and get her to forget about the sitter.

Honestly I don’t know who Alzheimer’s is worse on, the person it is affecting or the caretakers. My uncle has been a saint retiring early to help for her but it’s taken a toll on him and myself. But where’s the line of doing what we can until we have to put her in a home? I think that line is different for each and every family and I think we are coming up to that line.

February is now over. Unlike most people, I take February as a time to reflect not January. My birthday is in February so it just makes sense to me and I was never good with that “new year, new me” mentality. I usually write a little something on my birthday anyway since birthdays are a big marker in my life, more on that in a second. This January everyone seemed to reflect on their last decade since we were entering a new decade. So that’s what I did….in February. Years 20-30. I can do that.

My twenties were eventful to say the least. My early twenties were some of the darkest times I have ever had. My depression was at its highest. So was my self harming and alcohol use. I could not see myself living past the age of 21 because of my lifestyle choices. What a way to start a decade huh? When I thought I only had 2 months left of life the Lord stepped in just two months before I turned 22. It doesn’t get all rainbows and sunshine there. In my early twenties I struggled with living the life that used to own me and living a life for Christ. Those times are a blur to me. So much trying to conform and fit in with what I thought I had be as a Christian. It took me a good three to four years to give all that old crud up. And even longer to stop living like I thought I had to live. In that time I finished college on my own, I did a few victory laps but I got my degree. For the longest time I did not see that as an accomplishment because of how long it took me and the fact that I’m not actually using my degree but hey who is.

I call the ages of 23 to 27 my stangent years. It was after my dad’s death. I kinda shut myself off to the world again. If I was to be honest, I could say that I was depressed during those years. I took myself to counseling every week, sometimes twice a week. I learned so much about myself as a person. It was scary and it was hard but it was worth it. Literally all I did was work and come home. Not much going for me outside of work and counseling. I did meet a family during this time that I clung to and helped me out more than they probably know. 

28 and 29 were fun years! I discovered what gave me joy and emplented more of that in my life. I started to travel more. Go to soccer games and concerts. It was really the first time in my life that I was having fun. That I was experiencing true joy. Birthdays became a reminder of this life I didn’t think I would have. I celebrated everything and enjoyed a good party!

Last year I turned thirty and I had ALL the feels about it. Excited. Nervous. Ready. Sad. Giddy. It was complex. I was excited because I knew this was the healthest I have been emotionally. But I was sad because I was still single and  working at Starbucks. This has always been a struggle and something hanging in the back of my mind but something about turning thirty made it hurt a little more.  

Thirty was an eventful year for me. There were a lot of mundane days but it was filled with big  experiences. I stepped out of my comfort zone often. I started an internship. I went to Haiti for a mission trip with a different denomination. I went to Africa for a mission trip with a group that I did not know. I went to conferences by myself. That may not sound like that big of a deal but I am an introvert who doesn’t do well with strangers. Meeting new people freaks me out but I survived and made new friends and relationships with those people. Thirty was nothing like I expected it to be but I’m glad because I never would have thought of experiencing anything that I did. 

This past decade was a doozie. Such a rollercoaster. But I’m thankful for it all. My experiences in my early twenties lead me on a journey with Christ and because of that I’m able to have all this life now. I’m excited to see what and where this next decade brings me. I have big hopes and dreams which is a strange thing for me to say because thinking of the future freaks me out but I’m ready with open hands!

I don’t have much from my dad. I definitely got his lack of height and last name. But other than that, I do not know. We were not in each other’s lives much. My parents split when I was young. So young that I don’t have a memory of us as a family. I saw a picture once of the five of us and it blew my mind because I didn’t know that existed- proof of us as a family.

It’s hard to have a relationship with someone if you barely see them. He moved around a lot and so did we. I only have a handful of memories with him at his house. One at a Birmingham baseball game. At my high school graduation. The rest are from pictures we have together, which aren’t many. Our phone calls were far and few between and only lasted a few minutes.

When I was in college, our relationship got even more complicated when his addictions came into the light. I won’t go into details of his addiction because that’s not my story to tell but he did get help. After his treatment, he was doing great. He turned his life around day was going back to school to become an addictions counselor. 

We reconnected August of 2011. I reached out because I needed help to pay for college. An important thing to note here is that I don’t ask for help. I especially don’t ask for money so for me to reach out to him was truly a work of the Lord. I thought this was it. We could have a relationship we never had. But I was wrong. Just two short months we lost him to a battle with cancer. 

Today makes 8 years since I last saw my dad. We were all in his hospital room watching the Saints game, only I wasn’t watching the game. I was watching his chest rise and fall. I was full of feelings that I didn’t know if I should have them. We had just reconnected two months ago so was it ok if I was sad? I remember thinking that it would be weird if people saw me cry so I did what I did best…I stuffed my emotions. 

There’s something special that happens when we allow ourselves time. Time to sit. Time to breathe. Time to grieve. It wasn’t until years after his death did I allow myself to grieve. It hit me like a ton of bricks. I broke down. I remember sitting in the grass in my backyard just sobbing. Reconciliation and forgiveness was the best gift for our relationship. We both found the Lord on our own time and He brought us together when our hearts could be open for each other. 

It’s a little strange to say that our best times were his worst but thankfully I know I will be with him again. Until then I have a few pictures, his sobriety coin and a pair of his pjs that I still wear from time to time. Grief is a funny funny thing in that we all experience it but we all experience it differently. I have learned that it’s on ongoing process. One that one still learning about. One that I’m now willing to give myself time to go though.

My friend Katibeth has been telling me for sometime that I need to start writing a blog. I love that she has dreams for me that I don’t have myself. I usually just laugh it off when she says I need to write because who am I to write a blog. Who would even read it? Well I guess I’m about to find out. 

The definition of lagniappe is something given as a bonus or extra gift. Which if you’re from south Louisiana then you know that. But why would I want my blog to be named that? Well these years that I’m living are lagniappe, extra.

My childhood wasn’t all rainbows and sunshine. I experienced abuse at a young age. Not young enough to have no memory of it but young enough to have a lasting impact. It started off small with just verbal abuse which grew to physical and then you guessed it grew to sexual abuse. I kept this a secret. For years. When I was in high school, the truth slowly leaked out in a poem I had to write for a class assignment. I only told a little snippet of what happened but it was enough to send him to jail for a short period of time. 

When the abuse was out into the light my darkness started. I had all these emotions and feelings but didn’t know what to do with them. I was still hiding things in me. I became depressed but I tried to hide it from everyone because they didn’t know about the abuse. I was so shameful about it (which is a totally different story). For years just as I did the abuse, I hid my depression. It seemed like the more I hid my depression, the more it intensified. I began to self harm as a way to cope with the pain. But it didn’t help much. I was still depressed. Still hurting. Still having suicidal thoughts. 

This is where lagniappe comes in. I did not see myself living past the age of 21. I had a plan. But so did the Lord. Two months before I turned 22 the Lord got a hold of my heart. 2 months. That’s all I thought I had left to live but God! I am 30 now. I have lived 9 more years than I thought I would live and prayerfully I have many more but all these year are just lagniappe. They are given as a gift. From the Lord to me.

It hasn’t been all rainbows and sunshine since surrendering my heart over to the Lord but it’s been worth it. I hope this blog encourages people. I hope when you read it you will see life. I hope to share adventures I go on. I hope to share the struggles I go though. The good and the bad has been given as extra to me and I hope by sharing it will bring extra to your life.