If I were keeping track, my most frequently asked question this summer would be, “What does your tattoo mean?”

For those of you who haven’t seen it, I have a tattoo on my upper back between my shoulder blades with the words, “Nothing Gold Can Stay.”

Honestly, I’m surprised at how many people don’t know what that quote is in reference to — only less than a handful of people have recognized it. I thought it was more well-known, but I sometimes have a tendency to find significance or inspiration in things that others might not.

“It’s from ‘The Outsiders,’” is my usual reply, and then the light bulb goes on and they nod to signify their awareness of the novel/film. Some, in what I’m assuming is an attempt to be polite (which is nice, but in this case unnecessary), leave it at that. Others develop another look of confusion and ask, “So, what does it mean?”

Well, my tattoo has many special meanings to me, so it took me a while to come up with a reply that didn’t require a lengthy explanation that told almost half my life story to random strangers. After enough inquiries and a few revisions, I came up with the most straightforward answer I could, “It basically means nothing good lasts forever.”

That usually brings an understanding nod, a smile and something along the lines of, “Yeah, that’s true.”

On a few occasions, the conversation continues when they ask why I decided to get that as a tattoo. I’ve had this answer waiting for years, as I knew as soon as my parents saw me with a tattoo, the first thing they would ask is, “Why?”

“Well, I’ve wanted it since I was 17,” I usually say, “and ‘The Outsiders’ is one of my favorite books. It’s also the title of a really beautiful poem.”

“I’ve seen the movie,” is a common reply, along with their opinion of the film — it’s generally well liked. “Well, that’s pretty cool. I like that.”

Yes, “The Outsiders” is one of my favorite books/movies of all time. Anyone who had Mr. Domeier for 7th and 8th grade English is at least somewhat familiar with it, and of all my middle school memories, that book has always stuck with me.

Not only is it one of my personal favorites, “The Outsiders” is a classic — published in 1967, the novel tells the story of two groups of teenagers (“Greasers,” and “Socs,”) and their rivalry due to social class differences. S.E. Hinton’s inspiration for the novel came from her frustration with the social divisions in her high school — something I can understand and relate to. Basically, the novel sends the message that no matter who you are or where you come from, everyone has their own problems and in the end, we’re not all as different as we make ourselves to be. Or as one character puts it, “Things are rough all over.”

The novel and film feature the poem “Nothing Gold Can Stay” by Robert Frost. In the story, the poem is recited by Ponyboy to Johnny towards the beginning and quoted again at the end in another famous line from the movie, “Stay gold, Ponyboy. Stay gold.” Many people are familiar with this, although I don’t think it’s really widely understood — to comprehend the significance of these words, you have to examine the poem itself.

The meaning of Frost’s poem, first published in 1923, has been studied by many and has various complicated explanations. “Nothing Gold Can Stay” is short, and the general theme is pretty straightforward:

Nature’s first green is gold,

Her hardest hue to hold.

Her early leafs a flower;

But only so an hour.

Then leaf subsides to leaf.

So Eden sank to grief,

So dawn goes down today.

Nothing gold can stay.

I could break down each line, but I won’t — a little time on Google will give you much better information than I could in this limited space. One interpretation that I did particularly like refers to the title and last line of the poem, “’Nothing’ of the last line receives special emphasis; the gold that cannot stay comes to represent all perfections.” (Mordecai Marcus)

Although it seems like a negative message, “Nothing Gold Can Stay” is just a reminder to myself to cherish all I have in life while I can, as much as I can, because — like the early leaves of spring lose their golden hue — nothing perfect will remain that way forever.

It’s also in memory of the loved ones I’ve lost in the past four years: my grandma, Billy Rosas, and Alex Reeves, three people closer to my heart than almost anyone else on this earth. Their deaths have affected me in so many ways, and when I lost each of them I lost a part of myself that I know I’ll never get back. This tattoo helps me though, as a permanent reminder of my beloved guardian angels. 

The font and location of my tattoo were inspired by a picture I saw online when I was 17, and when I won a bet almost four years later last March and was presented with the opportunity to finally get the tattoo I’d waited so long for, there was no doubt what I would choose. 

The day I got it done (well, night), I had printed out the picture along with a couple different fonts I liked, but somehow managed to lose them before my friend showed up. At the time, I was panicked — but now I’m glad I lost them. I wouldn’t want a tattoo replica of another person’s; although the words are the same, mine is unique its own ways.

I’ve gotten compliments, which I’m very appreciative of, but you have to remember the tattoo artist who spent almost three hours creating it. (Not only that, he brought his equipment from the Cities to my best friend’s house in Mankato, drew it up, and didn’t finish until almost 1 a.m.—and he did it for free) I’m just the canvas, my only job was to sit still and bear through the pain as he meticulously worked, forming a piece of art I waited years to get and will cherish for years to come.

Lately here at the Star Eagle, we’ve gotten various inquiries, comments, and some complaints about the later arrival of papers. Many have grown accustomed to a certain time frame, a schedule you’ve had for years, which has been upset as papers delivered to houses and P.O. Boxes have been arriving on Thursday instead of Wednesday. I know it can be frustrating when the things we come to expect suddenly change, and we extend our apologies to the community and ask for patience and consideration as we continue to work through an adjustment period.

There’s a surprising amount of work and people involved in putting together this publication every week; I’ve been around newspapers my whole life, and I’m still learning. One obvious (I say this because it’s printed at the top of every page) but often overlooked/forgotten thing about the Star Eagle: Thursday is the official date of publication. Since the papers are already out on Thursday, it’s essentially a Monday for us as we prepare for the next issue.

Everything that will be in the current week’s paper – articles, columns, ads, etc. – has a Tuesday deadline; the pages are edited/proofed on Monday and Tuesday and electronically transferred to the printer Tuesday afternoon. On Wednesday morning, I leave at 8 a.m. for House of Print in Madelia where I pick up the papers, separated into bundles of various sizes with several bundles sorted into large, opaque plastic-like Post Office bags (these can weigh up to 70 lbs.) before driving back to New Richland.

If there are no delays, I get to town around 10:30; my first stop is the New Richland post office, where I drop off all but 3-5 post office bags in two bins – one for New Richland P.O. boxes/addresses, the other for out of town (or state) addresses. Then I go to the Star Eagle, print out postal statements and gather everything I need before going back to the post office for some stamps and signatures. By the time I’m done, it’s usually between 11-11:30, and I still have about half of the workday left.

Counter sales, a.k.a. papers we sell at area businesses, take up the remainder of what we refer to as the “paper run.” Since Nancy Jane’s Bakery is conveniently located two buildings down, I go there first. I do the same thing at every stop: pick up remaining papers from last week, subtract the number from the total number of papers they received, and multiply that number with the store’s price per paper to determine the amount to be collected. The majority of businesses get a receipt with these numbers and the amount paid, which are also written on the counter sales sheet for our records. Before leaving, I replace the old papers with this week’s, which are separated into bundles for each.

This process of exchanging papers and collecting payments usually takes 5-10 minutes, depending on how busy the store is at the time. After the bakery, I drive to the following locations (in order): New Richland Drug, Wagner Foods, One Stop, Ellendale Post Office, Lerberg’s, Gopher Stop North, Geneva Foods, Gopher Stop South in Clarks Grove, Hartland Post office, Gopher Stop (Nielsen’s Conoco); and finally Waseca Kwik Trip.

We’ve been using the same routine for years, with many adjustments along the way to try and accompany everyone’s needs and/or requests.

A big part of the paper run is knowing the schedules of businesses, as many have different closing/lunch hours. For example, the Ellendale Post Office closes for lunch from 11:30-1 p.m., which used to be an issue, but since new employees started they’ve made sure at least one person is in the building during that time so I can drop off their papers when I’m going through town (something I appreciate incredibly much!). Gas stations can be very busy around noon, so I try to get to them earlier to avoid the rush, but this isn’t always possible.

By the time I get back to New Richland and all the papers have been delivered, it’s around 2 p.m. and I’ve been driving for roughly six hours. I hope you can understand my frustration, then, when complaints are received about papers basically not arriving early enough – and remember, folks, we’re under no obligation to distribute the papers a day early, and could have chosen to make our jobs easier years ago and started waiting until Thursdays to deliver them. But we appreciate all of our subscribers, advertisers, and those who contribute to the Star Eagle in any way, so we continue to provide this service.

The biggest adjustment we’ve made in regards to the paper run – we’re still trying to work out the kinks, but there seem to be new ones all the time – was our change of printers. About a year ago, we had to choose a new printing company, as the one we worked with for years went out of business.

After many trials and errors, we’ve finally got a routine that is the most efficient. Unfortunately, due to the Hartland Post Office’s closing time of noon, some papers that get mailed out/put into P.O. boxes arrive the next morning. However, we’ve been able to deliver new papers to all the local businesses and post offices on Wednesday morning/early afternoon, and we’re going to keep the system that runs smoothest as long as we can, even if that requires a little sacrifice. After all, I’d love to take the day off, like the other employees (our office is closed on Wednesdays) do; however, I need the money, and I feel it would upset too many people to put the process off until Thursday. 

It’s hard to adjust to change, but change is also necessary in some way at some point, and a little flexibility, patience, and understanding are key in dealing with it.

Although with the weather we’ve had recently, it hasn’t seemed like it, but I think it’s safe to say spring has officially arrived. As far as seasons go, this has always been one of my favorites; I seem to enjoy it more every year (especially now, after the ridiculous winter we’ve had!). As much as I appreciate how beautiful the world is when blanketed in snow, those subzero temperatures were enough to make someone seriously consider moving to a warmer climate. But Minnesota is home; I do want to explore more of the world, but no matter where I go, I know I’ll be back.

This winter has been going on for, what…a year now? Two? That’s what it has felt like, and it’s had this girl impatiently waiting for brighter skies, warmer temperatures, and absolutely no more snow. So as the temperature slowly rises and the world is released from winter’s grasp, I can’t help but feel optimistic, motivated, and restless to start doing more with my life.

Honestly, I’ve been pretty disappointed in myself lately and my lack of progress with all the things I want to do – school, moving out (again), etc. But in perspective, it’s incredible how far I’ve come since this time last year. Despite not being exactly where I thought I would at this age, I’m so much better than I have been.

I have been dealt some pretty tough hands in life; if you’ve read any of my former columns, you know about some of them. From  2010 to 2013, I’ve had to attend the funeral of someone I love: Grandma Millie, 8/22/10; Grandpa Rodney, 7/22/11; Billy Rosas, 6/23/12; and Alex Reeves, 10/25/13. My grandma passed away the day before my 17th birthday; it was a few weeks before my junior year, which was by far the worst year I ever had academically – I went from straight-As and a 4.0 high school GPA to rapidly declining grades and missing an obscene amount of school, and essentially throwing away years of hard work; I regret it and probably always will.

My senior year was no better. Since elementary school, my goal was to be valedictorian of my class, and for a long time it seemed attainable. Until those last two years. The fire that kept me motivated to succeed for so long was gone, and I didn’t know how to get it back. I felt hopeless, insufficient, like I had failed everyone who had come to expect so much more from me. I felt like I already ruined any plans for my future, and I couldn’t see a reason to try any more, so I stopped caring.

Less than a month after graduation, I lost Billy. As much as I loved and missed my grandma, this was one of my best friends and favorite people in the world, and the pain felt unbearable. I couldn’t understand how God could take away such a young, amazing person that I (and many others) loved so much — all I wanted in the world was not to have to feel my heart break whenever I realized I could never see him again. It felt like too much for one person to handle; if I could describe what being broken feels like, that was it.

After that, I spent a long time detached from the world, indulging in self-destructive behaviors, doing whatever I could to run from the world that seemed so cruel and unfair. I didn’t know how to deal with any of it, so I tried to avoid it as long as I possibly could.

Last spring was my turning point; I won’t go into detail, but I will say this: I found out in a very harsh way that you can try and run from your problems, or emotions, or any unpleasant thing in life, but they all catch up to you eventually. We don’t get to control everything in life, but we do have the ability to choose how we deal with things that happen to us; it’s such a simple concept, yet so easily forgotten. After far too long I saw very clearly that I was not coping properly, and it was ruining my life. I didn’t recognize the person I had become; I hated that person, and I finally realized that it wasn’t the world that was making me miserable, it was me, the choices I made. After years of trying to do everything on my own, I finally reached out for help and made some serious, overdue, and necessary changes. And when I lost Alex last October, it didn’t send me into another toxic cycle. I’ve gotten much better at dealing with pain instead of avoiding it and letting it build up. I try to remember that now I’ve got another guardian angel watching over me, and we’ll meet again someday.

Since last year, I’ve worked and learned to become myself again, and I’m starting to realize how strong I really am and what those experiences provided me: proof that I am capable of handling whatever life decides to throw at me.

I wish I could talk to the naïve 16-19-year-old I used to be, with the constant “poor me” attitude and tell her, “Yeah, life sucks. Some people’s lives more than others. But that doesn’t mean that you get to give up and stop trying. You suck it up and keep going, because the world isn’t going to stop just because you’re going through a rough time. It will pass, because it always does, and you’ll become such a stronger person. Stop wasting your time being miserable and use the blows life’s thrown at you as fuel. Go at life with everything you have, because even though it has and often will knock you down, you need to stop letting it keep you down. This is not forever unless you make it that way.”

So instead of feeling bad for myself, and focusing on what I don’t have, I feel gratitude for all that I do have, and I don’t take people or moments for granted; you literally never know when you might lose someone, and trust me, you don’t want to feel the regret of those unspoken words that turn into words you’ll never be able to say.

No matter what I’ve been through, there will always be someone who’s had it worse. And even though the bad times can seem never-ending and unbearable, they pass. Like the world comes back to life after the dead of winter — brown grass changes to bright green, trees bud and grow leaves, flowers bloom, lakes melt, the air is once again filled with birds’ songs and everything is alive with activity – I finally feel like I’ve come back from the slump I was in for far too long. I may not be in school at the moment, and I may not have my own place, but I’ve come so far from where I was a year ago. I can’t wait to chase my dreams, to learn and experience all that life has to offer. I want to make a difference in the world, and I’m going to do whatever it takes to accomplish that.

Hey there, readers. Has it been forever since I’ve written a column, or what? If I’m being honest, it’s more due to my bad habit of procrastinating almost everything rather than my not-so-busy schedule. I do apologize, and I’ve already prepared for future columns so as to maintain at least some consistency.

If you’ve read any of our recent issues, however, you already know I’ve been writing/working for the Star Eagle again. I’ve had some of you comment on my articles when I’m out and about the community, and we even received a couple hand-written letters complimenting articles and the paper in general. I can’t express how great it is to hear your kind words! I don’t think I could ask for better motivation – thank you.

Other than my change of employment (I’m no longer working in Clarks Grove or Ellendale, mainly because of the distance), life has been pretty monotonous for a while, and I’m more than ready to stop running in place. I’ll be 21 in August – the 23rd in case you’d like to send a gift. . . just kidding! – and it’s time to do something with my life.

It’s not like I’ve done nothing, but I’ve wanted to go back to school for a long time, so the plan is to finally get there next year. I’ll be starting at a local community college, as my performance at the end of my high school years was less-than-satisfactory, and not even close to the ability I have and the standards I hold myself to.

After generals, I’ll most likely transfer to a four-year school. I say “most likely” because I’m still not 100 percent sure what I want for a career, but I think something involving writing will be a good fit. I’m leaning toward journalism; I already have experience, and I feel that with more education, I could potentially go far with my writing.

I’m often asked why I want to be a writer. It wasn’t a decision that I made one day; ever since I can remember, I’ve enjoyed reading and writing. In kindergarten, I asked my teacher if I could read a book to the class, because I was so proud that I was able to read the whole thing. She agreed, and after that she had a sign-up sheet for anyone who wanted to read a book of their choice to the class, which went over surprisingly well.

In second grade, I discovered the “Junie B. Jones” books by Barbara Park, and loved them so much that I made my own “book” with a similar style but my own characters and setting, complete with illustrations. 

When I was in fourth grade, I made my own newspaper – on Word Pad, it wasn’t fancy by any means – which I’m slightly embarrassed by. My dad was impressed, though, and even took copies of it to the Albert Lea Tribune, where he was a sportswriter before buying the Star. After that, writing was just one of my hobbies. Countless hours were spent writing stories when I was younger, which I never even considered might be out of the ordinary. It was just fun.

To this day, I have yet to find anything that comes more naturally to me than writing. Not only do I enjoy it; I’m fairly confident with my writing ability, which is rare for me, as I’ve always been my own worst critic. I just can’t really see myself doing anything else.