The End of my day

This morning I woke up and I realized that my week of debauchery was over.  You see, I gave up hard alcohol, wine and beef for lent this year so once Easter Sunday hit, I imbibed great quantities of Champagne and wine with a grilled steak that I truly believe no human being could bring to a culinary explosion except for Sweet.   Two days later, I decided that I would take a week off from working out, eating right and not drinking during the week.  

I think I earned it right?  40 days and 40 nights people!!

So, this morning, I lay in bed with my Pom, Mr. Oliver staring at me as though I didn't remember that he finally recovered from the craziness (I mean crazy) that took over his little body during the three weeks of having a tantalizing scent surrounding him like a catnip cloud. Not to mention the engorged female anatomy of  Lady, our other Pom, backing it up to him like chocolate on a silver tray.

I was waiting for him to shout out "I'm Baaaack" as though he had been through a Poltergeist experience.  So I get up and clean the kitchen, make my green tea, feed the dogs and head off to the gym for a little cardio and my Yoga class.  A few errands later, I was back at home for more chores and lunch. Fortunately, I only gained 2 LB’s during this self-indulged week of what basically comes down to going rogue.

Not too bad for everything I ate, oh and drank!  -blush-  Boy did I miss those Martini’s. 

 

So here I am with my puppies staring at me from their foyer perch and still trying to decide if they want to be inside or out.  Now with a glass of wine, my two dollar reading glasses and a comfortable mess on my table.  I will continue with the beauty of the end of my day.

Life is good!

 

The Dangerous I face

“If you don’t face the dangerous in your writing, you won’t change other people, because you’re not changing you.”    ~Naomi Wolf

This quote prompts the eternal question that plagues I hope not just me, but all writers new and experienced.  What is the dangerous in my writing? 

So I thought about it for some time and came to the conclusion that the dangerous I face in my writing would be the self truths that linger just behind a story line and creep in and out of the creative process for someone to enjoy not knowing that somewhere in the deep dark crevices I lay with a ball cap and sunglasses watching and waiting for someone I know to recognize a sentence, a word or an emotion. 

Then it all blows up.

I believe that it will happen for me and my writing will be there for all to see, bare and beautiful.  So what happens when the explosion rings through my ears and the smoke settles?  I continue writing and my sword will be my pen…

Blogging once again, but writing? Bleh...

Well, my last post was October 28th. October 28th! I can't believe how time flies when your having fun. Since my last post talking about my trip to Massachusetts we have been so busy.  As you know, Sweet took me to Massachusetts then after Halloween (great Halloween party) and our downtime, we hosted a Thanksgiving soiree with the fam, we then left for Korea for four days. It was a quick shopping trip and boy did we shop, it is a great way to give an economical Christmas.  During our flight we crossed the international dateline which was insane.  Sweet asked me if I noticed that we didn't see a sunset to which my sleepy reply was "huh?"  Sweet explained it was because we were chasing the sun.  Which truthfully, somewhere in the back of my mind where the marbles roll, I knew that but just waking to a smiley face wanting to share knowledge?  I listened and learned..  it was cute.

So we are now in Ohio visting his family and exploring the great state of Ohio. Next we are making our way to Wisconsin to visit more family and stay in the Dells for a few days.  Although fun, it has been exhausting and my writing has taken a beating.

Don't get me wrong, I love the traveling but I also miss the downtime. I miss my dogs (Oliver a Pom puppy and Lady a Pom adult (Oliver's aunt).  I miss sitting at my laptop table with my research all around, my glasses laying haphazardly on some books, my music playing in the background and the only noise is the story in my head talking to me faster than I can type.  Sometimes at night, the story creeps from the darkness taunting me, wanting me to follow it and when I don't or can't?  Stays there and begins stories that only come in the night.  Jumping from one story to the next making no sense.  You know the kind of dreams that people want to look up and tell you what it means as though they are palm readers with the remaining days of your life already layed out and only they know how it will play and can't wait to tell you. 

So I am beginning again and will write all the stories out of my head.  Although the dreams will probably stay until satiated as I can't get up in the middle of the night at someone else's house like I do at home.  My dream last night was located at my grandmother's old house only it wasn't in the city to which she lived at the end of her life.  It was actually in my old neighborhood where I lived until we divorced.  Weird, her house in place of my old one.  (ssssshhhhh, don't tell the dreamreaders)  Anyhoo, we were at some kind of party with many people swirling about.  Even Brad and Angelina were there but they retired to a makeshift muddy hottub (?) underneath my old oak shade tree where they were naked and facing each other laughing at an inside story.  So I left with my best girlfriend in her new car (?) with a little tan purse that held stuff like a Magic hat that holds a bunny.  We go into a big city which reminded me of Gotham and into a grunge like dance bar located in an industrial area.  We then come out laughing and get into her car to which I realize ...   no purse!  In a panic, I get out of the car and run back to the industrial area and begin asking everyone if they have seen it.  I am panicked about all the things I have lost and begin an inventory in my head as I hold back tears. 

I finally (after looking and looking completely panicked) look into an old style metal garbage can and right on top, underneath some brown and soggy gross lettuce is my purse, tan but dirty with some kind of melting whipped cream or ice cream on it.  I grab it up and begin to run back to my friends car (of course she waited in the middle of the freeway) got in the car and began cleaning the outside of the purse.  I finally look inside and my drivers license and library card is missing.  All the credit cards, cash, jewelry, etc..  is still there.  Although relieved, I now worry about having to pay $55 to replace the license.  Then I wake up.  The funny thing is at breakfast today while pouring my coffee, I still had the stress of the $55 until I realized it was a dream.  hahahaha?  So take that all you dream interpretaters, bring it!

I think all in all..  I didn't make the time to write because for a moment I was afraid of my writing which is what kept me from writing all these many years.  Not good enough, noone wants to read it, why would anyone read it..  blah blah blah..  If you are a seasoned or new writer, I can't imagine that it is any different for you.  I guess it is all in how you handle it.  I am diving right back in and will continue on with my goals.  Thanks for listening..

Have a Happy Holiday season and talk with you soon~

It's a Dogs Life

My parents always watch our Pom puppy when we are away.  So as soon as we get home I usually help Sweet with the unloading then I go and get our Pupperton.  I walk in my parent’s home and he is in the backyard with the other dogs.  When I say the other dogs, I mean my parents dogs, which are his mom, pop, grandmother and brother.  This is Oliver’s family.

I look through the screen door and call him, he comes running and jumps in my arms with licks and kisses.  The other dogs come running as well and are jumping at my feet.  I talk with my parents for a little bit with tales of our travels and they tell me about Pupperton’s fun, I put him in his travel crate and then we make our way home.  When I get home, Sweet and I give him a bath then he is usually tired and passes out from all the playing he did.

Sweet and I were traveling on and off this last week and as stated above the same ritual went on with the addition of my daughter’s dog that is Oliver’s aunt, who stayed with us for several days in between trips.  They played and slept and ate and it’s just a Pom festival!  Until Middle Kid comes to get her then he is alone with us and again passes out from the fun.

So this last time when I picked him up and watched them play through the screen door.  I made an offhanded comment to my mother saying that Oliver would be bored with us since he has been visiting a member of his family for the last two weeks and that he has a better relationship with his family than all of us!  Mom and I laughed then Pupperton and I left.  On my way home, I thought about what I had said and wondered if it were true. Mom didn’t deny it and my thoughts turned into memories of when I was little and how we used to go over to my aunts and uncles homes. Visiting and playing with cousins, spending weeks at a time in the summer, birthday parties, holidays, reunions, marriages and sadly funerals.  Then it all ended.  We grew up, grandparents passed, people moved, second generation began having children and families.  Jobs, school, successes and tribulations got in the way. 

 

Now all these years later, I have cousins that I don’t know.  Some of them, I don’t even know their names and they aren’t sure who I am either. Which is sad because I am also trying to keep my own family together.  It’s trying when this one is not speaking to that one, or someone said something that ticked another person off so much that a phone number is blocked from calling.  Alliances are formed then diverted, Facebook messages are sent that says somebody defriended you or you have been blocked from requesting them again. I could go on but I think you get it.

Please don’t get me wrong, we all still get together for the occasional wedding, we email and text the ones we still have a relationship with and of course the facebook.  But it’s not the same and I still have scars from the explosion that was my life and my children’s childhood.  I still get hairs on the back of my neck when I hear my kids talk about that side and how they are a family.  I want to shout out, so are we!!

I thought more about Oliver’s simple family when I nearly escaped the seduction that is my children’s fathers machine the other day.  I call it the W machine and it used to be a part of me and my family so I can tell you from experience it will roll along grabbing, snatching and snarling at anyone that dares to get in the way of it’s definition of a superior and all knowing family leadership and yet the bite always comes with a smile. 

I have been a part of this viciousness since I was sixteen and even after divorce and the remarriages, the machine continued to grow and the teeth got bigger and more righteous.   

Weird that all that time I thought that I had to live through those daily assaults from him and the new Mrs. W.  I actually thought that this was my life and I just had to be strong and deal with it, not that I was completely innocent in the opinion war.  HA!  Though me thinks great fodder for a yummy protaganist!

Not until I met this woman that had been leading a group I participated in, did I realize that I didn’t have to be.  We had started on a discussion of relationships, emotions and the social unit.  I brought up some stories of my life intending to help the person that started the discussion.  Then Whammo!

The instructor looked at me and plainly said, “You are in charge of your own emotions, no one can tell you how you should react to something nor judge you on it.”  I stopped cold.  Whaaaa?  How come no one told me that before?

She went on to say, “If I jumped on this desk and screamed, shouted and pointed to a mouse in the corner.  Would you yell at me to calm down and not act that way about seeing the mouse?  Or have your own emotion about the mouse?”

Of course I told her that I would probably jump up on the table also and yell louder than her while instructing the remaining souls on how to catch the mouse.  After I left the class, it resonated so loudly with me that I told Sweet about it and many others since.  I am allowed my own emotions! I have been freed!!   I will no longer have my actions defined by others and am free of the W machine.  As I was dancing with my scarf (saw it in a movie and thought is was time to use it) swirling in the kitchen and enjoying the release, Sweet asked in his infinite innocent way.  “Why would you think you had to answer to anyone?  Blah… (dancing stops and eyes look to the side) 

I tell you all this because I learned a few things about this thing called family with my new epiphany.  It doesn’t matter who is talking to who, who is right or wrong, who did all the work, who didn’t.  Opinions and gossip no longer rule the day.  In the simplest terms I note, a bloodline makes no difference, a family is the people closest to you to whom you care, hope and pray for, laugh and cry with, fight and love for no matter what. It’s all about who is running around the backyard with you panting, barking, biting and who’s arms you can jump into with licks and kisses!

Me and the Universe

I am a born and raised Catholic and pretty proud of it.  I was baptized, went to catechism on Saturday’s when all the other kids were sleeping in or watching cartoons.  Then came the first communion and lastly or dare I say finally the confirmation!  Oh, then of course I put my children through all that as well!  Which meant I had to go to church while they were going because I couldn’t be a hypocrite, right? 

Then came the day, about four years after Youngest Kid made his confirmation when I was sitting by myself in church one beautiful Sunday morning and I had an epiphany!  I was still going to church all by myself out of habit.  Of course I didn’t walk out, but I did daringly not go the next Sunday, then the one after that and so on.  Until one day, the old catholic guilt set in and as I laid in bed I was actually arguing with myself whether I should get up and go.  So as I watched the clock tick closer to the D-minute where I wouldn’t be able to make mass, I declared aloud to Him.  

“I don’t have to go if I don’t want to!”  (no, no, lightening did not strike but I thought I heard a thunderstorm)

So now I am in charge of my own beliefs and free of guilt!  Yayyy right?  I still toy with the idea of going back to church even though I pray and have developed a guilt free relationship with Him on my own. 

Well cut to six years later and I am sitting in my apartment with my daughter’s dog, a glass of Merlot watching Under the Tuscan Sun with a box of tissue and some Chinese Food.  Wondering what the hell happened to my life!!  When my Besti FF calls and asks if I want to go to the Friday night melee that is downtown in the summer.  “But of course” I say in my worst french impression.

So here we are, Friday night, dressed up and the band is starting.  I am standing next to her and holding a beer, we are looking around and bobbing our heads while swaying back and forth to the music.  (yes it looked just as I described it.  I’m cool right?)  When I see him, the ex coming through the crowd with each arm around a girl.  OMGsh, heart squeezin’, can’t breathe, scream building, calm, calm. Wait, did he walk through a cloud of light?

When a person whose name I can’t remember (a little league acquaintance) steps in front of me and begins talking about relationships, blah, blah, blah. I am trying to look around her to see what he is doing and if he saw me, yep just like grade school on the playground.  When her voice comes back into focus and I say what???  Then she repeats it…

“What kind of man do you want?  Let’s throw it out there to the universe!”  Whaaaaa?

I said what any good and loyal catholic girl would say.  “You mean to God?  I already have, actually ever since the debacle that was my kids’ dad.”

No she says, make a list and throw it out there and ask for it!  You’re drunk I quip back.  Well, what do I have to lose!  So I do.

* I want him to be 6’2” to 6’4” (I’m 5’2”)

* I want him to have blue or green eyes

* I would love Brown hair, preferably a little long

* He is one or two years older than me

* Must be responsible

* Must have had a job for a long time

* Must be good with money

* Must be honest

* Must like kissing

* I want him to have a good heart

* He has to own his own house, so he has somewhere to go

* He has to be a traveler

* He has no kids or current ex’s in his life

* Bonus would be if he had a Harley

There it was!  My perfect guy, the One that I have been looking for while making my way through this thing called life.  The One that doesn’t exist.  Oh boo hoooooo!    


Two weeks later I am walking into a lobby of a bar/restaurant whilst out with friends.  A tad tipsy, I see this guy coming towards me so I stop him and ask if I can ask him a question because I just have to know.  He says sure and smiles.

*gulp*  I ask if I can kiss him.   So not like me!!  He says yes.  Yuuummmmoooo!!  I was right, just as I thought it would be.  The rest they say is history, we have been together ever since and the list thrown out to the universe?   Everything except the hair, well Sweet Significant had long brown but due to follicle challenges he began having, he is now bald.  Sexy, sexaaaay!

Since then I have had many discussions with people who are in need of something or someone and I let them boo hoo for a while then I tell them whether they pray or not, whether that have a religion or not, whether they have watched The Secret (I haven’t but Sweet wants everyone to) it doesn’t hurt to just ask and throw it out there.  The only thing to remember is to be true to your conviction.  Know what it is you are asking for because you might get it and if you do.  You better be ready.

So here is my next request to the Universe….  Question:  What do I want for my future?

Here it is Universe!  I will work hard to get it…

* A full time writing career as an author

* A fabulous go get ‘em agent that gets it and me

* A research assistant that enjoys traveling, giggles and laughs while we work

* A publishing company that brings with it a family and a team oriented working relationship

* My published books on shelves and in libraries,

* A part time career as a Travel Writer

* Earn just enough money to spend, play, pay my bills and save money for retirement without worry.

* Actually find my safe harbor to work and play there with family and friends.

* Bring back Book Mobiles with books of my newly formed writer friends

The last one reminds me of when I was little and I would wait by the sidewalk for the bookmobile like the other neighborhood kids waited for the ice cream truck.  *sigh*   good times~

So with that, it’s out there.  No need to finger cross, believe and throw yours out there.  Remember…    Conviction!

Have a great weekend my friends!

Crazy Creative Emotions

Sometimes as I write on my blog, my short stories, writing prompts or the book that I just know I will be able to share with the world one day. I am often brought to tears at my own writing.  *dork*   Yep, as I am writing the tears just begin to flow.  I once wrote a story in the middle of Costco so I could test the keyboard of a laptop and just boo hoo’d as though noone else was there.   

With each heartfelt stroke of the pen or keystroke I find that some things just jump up and become something that I didn’t even know I had within myself.  Like a memory of personal tribulation or great joy, even a story that was told to me by a friend or passing stranger that I have held onto deep within. I can also say that certain stories bump up against my pocket of happiness or my bubble of sadness even though I thought I had blown that bubble away.

So today I wrote a story for a writing prompt on Writer’s Digest.com (which I love!) that wanted us to write about a special anniversary.  The story started as something I had once heard from a friend and ended up a story about two people I never met, but now consider friends.  Yes, I cried.

So I thought I would share this with you all and please if it connects with you or someone you know please let me know.  I would love to find out if others have the same experiences and if not, what are yours?

Thanks so much!!

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In the Rearview Mirror

He pulled up in front of the old church as the whispering winds swirled the leaves up around the tall steeples on either side of the building.  Martin walked in through the large oak doors and waited in the vestibule for Henry.  He could see him standing there with the others holding a chip.  They were patting him on the back and everyone was smiling.  As the crowd made their way to the refreshment tables for coffee and desserts, Henry looked up and finally saw him then walked over and looked Martin carefully in the eye and said what he said every year.

“I thought you wouldn’t make it this year.”

“I told you I would come as long as you needed me even though I don’t agree with it”

“Ya Ya, I know.  Look eight year chip”

“Nine year anniversary, are you ready?”

They walked out of the church together and down the steps to Martin’s car and they began the drive they made every year to Tahoe and back.  As the familiar drive took them through the freeways, tree lined and mountainous roads they talked about Martin’s new baby and his job.  Henry wanted to know everything that was happening to him.  Oh the joy of a good life!  Something that Henry knew deep down that he would never have but wouldn’t admit it.

Martin finally pulled into the familiar parking lot at Henry’s old watering hole, McP’s pub. They entered and sat at the bar.  Martin ordered an ice tea and water for them as they sat in silence and remembered that night so many years ago.  The drinks, the women, dancing and getting in the car for the long drive home, then the crash, the fire, the blood, the sirens, the chaos, the hospital, the regret and the enduring sadness that will forever linger.

“Are you ready for the drive back?”  Martin said with an understanding look as Henry nodded.

Back in Martin’s car they drove in silence until they came upon the site where it all happened.  Martin grabbed the flowers in the backseat and got out to lay them against the scarred tree as Henry stood with his hands folded in front of him.  They stood in silent comradeship.  Martin then walked back to the car and got in while Henry took a minute more then followed him for the long ride home. 

“Just drop me back at the church man,” Henry said as they drove into town. “I’m going to need another meeting.”

“Are you sure?” Martin asked with a heartbroken break in his voice. “You need to forgive yourself, it’s not your fault she died.”

“That’s what they keep saying but I was driving.  I am just glad you were ok.”  Henry was out of the car now and walking up the church steps towards the oak doors. As Martin drove away, he looked in the rearview mirror at the old abandoned church to see his friend vanish into thin air.

*sniff*

Where are my funny blog stories?

So of the many blogs that I have read, I note most are extraordinary mommies that work, blog, raise kids and cook.  They all have the funniest stories about their babies.  Many times as I think of what I am going to write, I instantly go to a story of my kids, but because my three babies are adults now, the only stories I have are in past tense.

Oh Boo hoo~

So today, as I do every morning, I begin the same ritual with my beautiful pom puppy Oliver.  Get up, go outside to potty, give him his vitamin, have breakfast, play and then I sit down and read my fav blogs, read emails, etc.  As I am having my breakfast and listening to music choice while I start to work on my book, I look down and see Oliver at my feet nipping at the chair.  A sure sign of needing to go outside!  He is thirteen weeks old and already potty trained.  Something that Sweet and I are very proud of although Sweet isn’t too happy of the case of potty pads that he bought.  I remind him that it will rain one day and we will need them.

So I get up and Oliver runs to the front door jumping and dancing (so cute) and I open the door so he runs down the porch steps onto the lawn, sniffs around and finds a place to pee.  As usual we come back in the house for a treat which he jumps and dances for because of course he is so proud.  Right? 

I sit back down at my laptop and this smart guy then gives me a look at the opening from the foyer to where I am sitting and stares at me.  I inquire.  He runs to the front door, so I get up and we go outside again, this time to poo.  We come back in and I sit down after all the claps, yayyys and good boy adulations.  I walk over to the laptop and before I sit he sits down by the pantry and waited for a second treat.

I just got treat snaked by my puppy!  Well at least now I now where my cute stories are ;}

A home remembered

I have been going through old stories that I have written for school, myself or just to jot down a memory and came across this little story that I had written to remember the week we buried my grandmother in 1994.  I had completely forgotten that I had written it and it was a nice surprise and still brings the memories flooding back.  It’s funny about memories, they can trigger smells, songs, feelings and emotions often thought gone or filed away in a long forgotten part of the brain.  I want to share this with you and please let me know what you think or share your story with me.  Enjoy and Thanks for stopping by!!

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It was the spring of nineteen ninety-four and in the alcove of my home of two months; I made my way to the front door.  A difficult task while carrying the bat bags of Little League, Bobby Sox and T-Ball in one arm while cradling Stretch Armstrong and holding onto a couple of McDonalds bags with the other. The vibration of the pager against my hip made me jump as I tried to grab the keys to open the door.  All that I was holding came crashing to the floor and I stood there just staring at the result giggling with my beautiful eight year old daughter as she looked up at me. “Who paged you mommy?”  She said with more curiosity about the pager than who was behind the page.

“I haven’t looked yet, but it better be good because it scared the bajeezus out of me!”  She giggled a little more then bent down to help me pick things up and at the same time yelled for her brothers to come help as I opened the front door. 

With everyone finally settled at the table and lunch in front of them, I dialed the number to call my Mother who had been the page from earlier.  “Hello Mother, what’s up?”  I said distracted, as I looked up movie times in the local paper.  “Grandma died.”  She said plainly.  I froze.  The only thing I could think of at the time was which one?  I had actually voted in my head as to which Grandmother it might be.  Crazy.

The funeral for my paternal Grandmother was the following Thursday and we were all expected to make arrangements and be at the Big House on Monday.  The drive from my home to hers became more familiar and yet just as unrecognizable as I got closer to her town and neighborhood. I realized that I hadn’t been to see her in years nor had I really seen anyone.  I felt justified for my reasons while a knot began to form in my stomach and I could feel the migraine begin.  I became melancholy of what I had missed and at the same time afraid of what I was about to see again.  I felt the need to turn and run as I had always done.  I could mourn her on my own, right?

I pulled up in front of the house with mixed emotions and I sat in the car just staring at the house that had been so much of my childhood.  My babies were already out of the car running to my Mother and Sister with kisses and hugs and I looked up from the chin lean that had started on the steering wheel after hearing my name.  Cousins, aunts and uncles had begun to come out with smiles and arms wide open to welcome me.  It was then that all the years of pent up anger began to melt away and I wondered if maybe all this time I had been wrong about my memory of what the childhood had been.  Had I stayed away for reasons that didn’t exist?  Still not sure. 

I began to hear Vincente Fernandez singing in the air that I breathed; I smelled the familiar spices of cumin and burnt chipotle peppers wafting through the air.  I smelled the grass as I moved and mothballs as I walked through the front door, then smiled with tears forming in my eyes.  That week, preparing to bury my grandmother, we hugged, laughed, danced and reminisced.  We remembered family and I was home.

A letter to my children

First Born, Middle Kid and Youngest,

I want to start by saying how much I love you and have always loved you.  Unfortunately, this has always been misunderstood and defined by many other people other than us.  The four of us are a family untied and now I want to write this to you all so you can have me to yourselves and I to you all.

First Born~

My beautiful boy and first born.  You are my greatest joy!  You are the most handsome, the most caring and the least understood.  I have thought about you everyday of my life and on some days smiled at your success, laughed at your stories of trials and tribulations and cried my heart and soul out of my existence for your love.  Not just the love I had hoped would return between us, but for the love of a woman that would understand you completely and let you be you.  Appreciate you for all that you are.  Caring, loving, funny, bull headed, sad, smart and beautiful inside and out.  Let go son. Give up the wall a little at a time so she can see you.  I want only good things for you and I pray that all the hard work you have accomplished thus far pays off.  I know you in my heart and I know you believe that you fail, but you haven’t.  You have succeeded three fold where many, many have failed.  I love you…

Middle Kid~

My spoiled and beautiful baby girl.  You and I have lived such a great life and shared so many stories, memories and comical eruptions of life.  You are the strongest of the whole family and the one with the most common sense.  I am so happy that you have found love and get to experience the camaraderie that you deserve.  I can’t wait to meet your child because I know the baby will be the greatest extension of you.  Please be sure to wipe away the scowl you often show the world and deny with an exasperated vengeance.  Your smile lights up a room and the growl that builds to a giggle is the greatest experience any one person can experience.  Please share this with the world.  I want you to remember that patience is not only a virtue, but also a defined quality that not many people have and most are not born with.  Those people must learn it and sometimes to no avail.  Love, laugh, giggle and work hard for the life you want as I know you are capable of my baby girl.  You are loved!

Youngest ~

Oh my Sweetboy!   You are my one true lovey boy.  I missed most of your childhood and as a penance, do not have some memories of you that I would love to cover me like a warm blanket and I am truly sorry for that not for myself but for you.  I let stupidity, vengeance, my arrogance and jealousy take that from us.  I do cherish the memories I do have, toddler years, kindergarten, your high school years, your entrance into adult hood and your adventurous soul looking for your calling.  To this I want you to know I am so proud!  You can accomplish anything my son because you were put here on this earth for a very special reason that will be revealed to you in small bits throughout your life.  I think you have already realized this and have begun the god planned journey you were intended to walk.  I do cringe with some of the habits you have picked up on this journey, but do not intend to caution you with change.  Please remember all the respect, manners, rules and love that you were raised with and you will be fine.  The habits you will hopefully outgrow and they have been picked up and released for experience’s sake.  I just want you to know that you are appreciated and I am so glad that you have someone that fits the bill of someone any mother would be proud to share her son with.  I love you with all my heart!

Remember one thing my loves, I am and will always be your Mother, Mommy, Ma and one true champion of all your dreams, hopes and loves.

Mom