“Hello, I just wanted you to know that Deborah is approaching the end of her fight with cancer. Please keep her daughters in your prayers.”
That is the message I read in front of the Home Depot. I was there to buy nails and paint to fix things around my apartment. My eyes spoke for me when I started crying out of control.
Two of my daughters had their eyes fixed on me. I told her that I was confused. I didn’t know she was ill. My friend then told me she’d been fighting for a few years. …
For starters, I know people have a deep regard for the dead, as they should. But what amazes me is how someone can live a wicked, abusive, manipulative life and still gain praise.
People will travel miles out of respect for a person who has never given them any. There is always someone assigned to praise this individual. Most of the time, they start with, “He had a big heart, but he wasn’t perfect.”
That’s the caveat? They were great people, although he/she abused their family? …
I was in the produce examining fruit with my oldest daughter. My toes curled, and when they cracked, warmth filled my shoes.
We had just finished a twenty-minute walk in the bitter Colorado air. The car we had sometimes sputtered when we started it, so instead of gambling with it, we used the time to talk, connect, and vent.
I grabbed a mango for my middle daughter and a seedless watermelon for my baby because she said, “she hates those little black bugs.”
My daughter dropped bundles of vegetables in the buggy because she has declared herself a…
Some say I am dwelling holding onto my past
I say if you love someone you don’t recover fast
I am just making sure I left no words unspoken
Also, I could use a break from being broken
Some say it’s over and to move on with my life
I heard one man’s trash is another man’s wife
I am not saying I disagree, and hell, that is what I am hoping
But for now, I just need a break from being broken
Some say I am a mess and I must trust again
I plan to do it with a…
Kissing you, and holding you, and putting you in my lap and
Holding you, and touching you, some memories never happen
Cuddling you, and singing to you, and putting you down for a nap and
Listening to you, and talking to you, I wish those memories could happen
Putting you down, and picking you up, and swinging you all around and
Covering you up, and tucking you in, if only those memories could happen
Your sister hits, and the other pushes, I scream at the top of my lungs and
You guys make up, and have some fun, some memories…
Mother and writer. Offering articles and poems of humor, love, support, encouragement, and bravery—life.