Light

 When I was a kid I loved visiting the Marietta Square. We would visit Trick Shop and The Pickle Patch Children’s Bookstore. You could hear trains rolling past and church bells ringing. Those sounds are like home to me. I remember walking over the train tracks holding my mom’s hand. Now I hear the train and church bells from my front porch. I wonder if it will be so deep rooted in my own kids. 

I feel like I fail them daily. I know that I am a good mama and I try and tell them I love them and provide boundaries, but it’s hard to know that they are supposed to break away, I do know that, and at the same time try and fill them in these last years with all the stability and integrity that you can. 


It’s hard to see them brush past you when they walk in. But I know it’s okay when I see the light come back. And it does. And then we are a family again. I will do my best to keep that light inside of him lit up, so that even when he isn’t here with us, We can help light his way. 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Fifty

  My sister turned fifty years old this week so I thought I would share some fascinating facts about Heather.  She has seen Poltergeist ninety times. Poltergeist was our It’s a Wonderful Life. It brought our family together. When we arrived at Walt Disney World one year, what was the first thing we did after the long ride? Curl up with cookies and Poltergeist of course. She attended sixty concerts in high school. Many alongside my dad. Poison, Cinderella, Neil Diamond, you name the band, she’s probably seen them.  When she was in high school, her Toyota Celica had a pile of tapes so high in the front passenger seat, My knees touched my chin anytime I rode shotgun.  Heather has an unheard of vocal range. I was so jealous. She has an amazing gift that she rarely shares. I remember all these professors coming to hear her range at one of her vocal lessons.  She’s smart. Scary smart. Like should be leading a criminal organization smart. Or maybe she is, and you just don’t know it. In high s
Read more

Mama

  Today my mom is dying. All I could see when I walked  into her room was that little girl. That scruffy little girl sitting in the grass. Smirking at the camera.  I gave her lots of kisses goodbye. One for each grandchild she helped me raise. One for each friend of mine she loved like her own. One for each time she made me laugh. Or yell. Or cry. Or smile. Or feel loved.  Driving home Heather and I saw the most incredible sunset. It was beautiful and messy and bright and clinging to its moment in the sky.  I will remember beautiful loud Christmas Eve parties. Her quiet strength with Ziggy and Charlie. How she loved my friends. That she was flawed but always full of generosity. I will try my best to do her proud. 
Read more

Holding Hands through Hell

   We’ve been tied up in a shit storm the past few months. My husband had serious spinal surgery. Then he got an infection. Then he got pneumonia. Then I had heart failure. Then my mom died.  Am I missing anything? In the midst of it all, I’ve cried and laughed and tried to make sense of it all with my friends and family. At one point I said, “Well, at least we’re all holding hands through hell.” It kind of resonated with them. Because that’s kind of all we have isn’t it? Life doesn’t really care sometimes. And all you can do is grip tightly to the things and people around you. And hope they grip back. Thank God I have people that have not only held onto me tight, but dragged me through the flames of these seasons in my life.  I know there is a light ahead. The path out of Hell is near. But honestly I’m not even looking anymore. All I can do is close my eyes and hope for the best. It’s my friends. My friends have me and will pull me through and back where I belong. 
Read more