Do you get weary too?

Do you ever get weary?

Like Atlas, is the weight of the world on your shoulders?

Do you sometimes feel that the only thing holding you together is the fact that everyone else around you is counting on you to hold them together?

You have to be the glue.  But sometimes you just want to have your own meltdown.

This one's anxiety and that one's depression, and sometimes what you have JUST. ISN'T. ENOUGH.

So you start to feel like you're barely staying afloat, or you're going under.  But you can't.  You simply can't.  Because who will hold them together if you fall apart?

Dear Mama

Dear Mama,

I tried so hard to be that girl you wanted me to be..you know, the one who was selfless enough to not be angry, to understand why you felt it was time. And I do. Oh, I do understand. You felt like a burden. And God knows, 17 years on dialysis is a long, long time. And not being able to drive anymore or clean anymore, and always feeling like you put us out. I hope we never, ever made you feel that way. But I know. I know you watched as we cancelled plans to take you places. I never begrudged doing that though. And any friend who couldn't understand, just wasn't my friend.

Today though, I'm angry. I'm mad that I'm going through my adulthood without you. I have questions about raising a teenager. I need advice. I need the wisdom only you could offer me. And you're not here.

How did you survive my teen years? How did I not break your heart over and over when I wouldn't talk to you, when I simply shut down on you? Am I doing the right things? Am I asking the right questions, or setting the right boundaries? What did you do when all you wanted was to cry but you couldn't because you didn't have the time? How did you fill the silences in the car without growing weary?

There have been so many times since you've been gone that I've needed you. But I've been okay. We've all made it through. Today though, I'm angry. I'm angry you're not here. And I think I'm allowed a little mad.

I love you, and I miss you every day. I miss being able to call you for anything. I miss our stupid jokes, and I miss the way we pretty much read each others' minds. I miss your laugh and your voice, and it's getting to where I can't remember either of them.  I miss you, and I need you, and I'm so angry that you're gone. And maybe, just maybe, this stark honesty, 12 years later, is what I need to start to heal.

Love always,
"Your most precious gift"

Where Living Is A...

I grew up in a great town. Really great. Small town. Huge lake. Skating rink. Drugstore with a soda fountain. Seriously, a great town. I walked to Jr. high and high school. My granny and papa lived a few houses down. My mom and dad grew up there; my grandparents grew up there.

When I was growing up, there were jobs galore there. You see, Russell Athletic was headquartered there. And really, our community was pretty much living large...or at the very least, we were all solidly middle class. We were mostly happy. We had a beautiful lake to boat on, swim in, fish in, ski on. Our downtown was quaint. It had charm, and a fountain, and mom and pop shops that had been there forever. The drugstore had a soda fountain that sold lime freezes and egg and olive sandwiches.

To say there had been no progress would be a lie. When I was growing up there were a couple subdivisions that went in, some apartment complexes. We went from the Strand, a single screen theater, to Playhouse Cinema, a double screen. Wal-Mart moved twice into bigger locations. But we got no Olive Gardens, no Chili's, no specialty grocery stores. And that was then...when the town could've supported it. Instead we drove to 45 minutes to Montgomery and ate at their Red Lobster and then came home and cruised the parking lots until curfew.

Slowly Russell Athletic started moving out. Plants were being moved to Costa Rica and down the road closer to the bigger cities. Eventually they were almost all gone, along with the jobs. People were moving - money for the roads, the schools, the parks along with them. I was last in my hometown two years ago. I took Hayley on a tour. The Russell plant I worked in right out of high school was being torn down. All that was left was a pile of bricks.

My hometown stood still while all around it bigger cities grew and developed. It still has the same quaint little downtown area, the fountain, the drugstore soda fountain still sells lime freezes and egg and olive sandwiches. And most people still buy them...when they're in town visiting. You see, I have very few friends still in my hometown. An aunt who works at a doctor's office, a cousin in a pharmacy. A friend who teaches at our alma mater, another who works for the county. A couple who have businesses. And there are a few who do what so many others do...live there and work out of town.

I work in an area similar to that now. I hear the complaints about growth and development. I hear how we don't need new housing developments and we don't need new businesses. I hear about how progress is destroying the "hometown feel" of the area. And every time I hear these things, all I can think about are those crumbling buildings, those empty houses, and those people who spend more time in their cars than with their families. And my heart hurts.

There's a balance to be found, a tightrope our civic leaders walk daily. How do we preserve and progress all at the same time? I'm glad it's not my job. But I have the utmost respect for the ones who do this job. The county I live and work in is ranked 95 out of 3100 counties in the US for per capita income. That's a lot more than I can say for my hometown.

Memories of Mama

Tomorrow marks 13 years since my mama went home. Over that 13 years, I've been a lot of things. I've been morose. I've wallowed in self pity; I've created an ornament swap, that this year swelled to over 130 participants, in her honor. I've talked to Hayley and Brian about her... a lot. I've tried to live up to the example by which she led. And mostly, I've fallen short.

But for tonight, rather than think about those things... rather than dwell on how much I miss my mom, I'm choosing to celebrate her. 

Mom was always good for a silly little saying. Do you remember was "Member, FDIC?"  TicTac candies were "Emtacs." We'd go fishing and she'd sing "Come on little fishie and bite my hook," or "Did you ever go a-fishin' on a bright sunny day, sit on the banks and watch the little fishies play, with your hands in your pockets and your pockets in your pants, watch the little fishies do the hoochie-coochie dance." She even swore in silly-speak. I swear the worst word I ever heard her say was "shithook."  And she could throw shade like no other. She definitely had the "bless his heart" down pat! But my all-time favorite, and one I still use to this day, was "if brains were cotton, he wouldn't have enough to make an ant a tampon."

If you know me at all then you know my hair is completely unmanageable. Like, completely, completely unmanageable. So my mom dried my hair. Seriously, until I was 18, she dried my hair. She would have me bring a chair into the bathroom, she would back into a spot next to me and dry and style my hair. And I would grouse. Because, really, what self-respecting 18 year old wants their mama to fix their hair? So this one time, I was grousing and complaining and I jumped up out of that chair knowing full well she couldn't come after me real fast. Well, she ripped that hair dryer out of the wall and brandished that thing like a whip! Needless to say that was the last time I tried to make a break for it.

As a family, we often would play a game after a big dinner when the whole group of us were there. We'd often play men against women, and my favorite was Cranium. I have some great stories from this including the time my mom (after a margarita or two) played the charade card of belly dancing. But I digress. The point of this one is to say my grandpa used to get irate when playing this with us. As a team, my mom and I were unstoppable. Seriously, she'd draw a straight line in the picture part and I'd scream, "aardvark." And lo and behold, it'd be an aardvark. We were just that in tune with one another.

When I moved to California, my mom had a 1-800 line installed so we'd never miss a day of talking to each other. And we didn't. I don't think we missed very many in 31 years. She was my best friend, hands down. And, every day, I miss her. But I know I carry her with me wherever I go. She's watching me. I'm sure she's seen some things that would've made her want to snatch a knot in my butt. But I hope she's seen some things that made her say, "that's my girl."

So today, I celebrate her. I bought some orange Emtacs, and maybe I'll convince Brian and Hayley to play Cranium later.

Love One Another....

Today, in the wake of the SCOTUS's decision for marriage equality, I've seen many comments. Some were filled with love and happiness, and some filled with hate. As a Christian, it hurts my heart to see the hate-filled comments coming under the guise of religion.

Christianity is not a smorgasbord. It's not a place to go and pick and choose like Ryan's. We don't bat an eye anymore when a couple divorces, and then marry others. Yet the Bible tells us it's a sin. Matthew 5:32 - But I say unto you, That whosoever shall put away his wife, saving for the cause of fornication, causeth her to commit adultery: and whosoever shall marry her that is divorced committeth adultery. It actually tells us that in some variation no less than 7 times. And, how many of us eat shrimp or lobster or crab? I'm over here waving my hands like crazy cause I love me some shrimp. But you know what? The Bible doesn't. Nope. Leviticus 11:10 - But you must never eat animals from the sea or from rivers that do not have both fins and scales. They are detestable to you. This applies both to little creatures that live in shallow water and to all creatures that live in deep water. And who, from the South, doesn't love football? Leviticus 7-8 -… and the pig, for though it divides the hoof, thus making a split hoof, it does not chew cud, it is unclean to you. 'You shall not eat of their flesh nor touch their carcasses; they are unclean to you.  Oh Lawd. I love me some Auburn football...and pork chops...and pork rinds.

Really, I could go on here, but my point here is this. Jesus commands us, as Christians, to do 7 things.

1)     Repent, believe and receive the Holy Spirit (these three essentials for salvation go together; one cannot do any of them without the other two. For example, one cannot have heart-felt repentance without the conviction of the Holy Spirit, being born again of the Spirit.

2)     Be baptized

3)     Love (love God and neighbor in practical ways, forgiving enemies and showing mercy to the needy)

4)     Break bread (Communion)

5)     Pray (this includes all aspects of spiritual warfare)

6)     Give (this includes all aspects of Christian stewardship)

7)     Make disciples (this includes teaching the Word, shepherding and sending workers to neglected peoples)

Love. Love God. Love your neighbor. Not, love your neighbor as long as they live the way you want them to live. Just love.

And since we're here, it ain't making disciples if you're spewing hate. Just sayin'.

Now, this is only my opinion. And it's the way I choose to live as a Christian. Maybe it's not right, and if that's the case, I'll answer for it. And there are plenty of other things I'll be answering for on judgment day. But at least I'll know that I loved as best I could.

John 13:34-35  - A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”

Open Letter to a Teenage Girl

Dear Smart, Amazing, Talented, Beautiful Young Woman,

    I get it. I really, really do. I know what it's like to just simply want to be wanted. I know what it's like to feel like I would do anything at all to be that person... you know, the one they want. I know what it's like to feel invisible... and worthless... to feel like the undesirable, the excess, the tag-along. I've felt all those things. 

    I've done the things you're doing. I've sought attention from unsavory characters, from people who weren't worth my time, and who didn't want me, who simply wanted what I could give them. And I convinced myself that it was me they wanted. I convinced myself that it made me worthy. I convinced myself that it made me whole. I've let people degrade me. I've let them use me. I've let them demean me. I did all those things in the name of being wanted. 

   I've walked this path you're on. I've rambled along aimlessly, seeking something, anything to make me feel better. And I've found that none of these things work. Someone wanting you doesn't make you wanted. Someone loving you doesn't make you lovable. 

   Those things, those feelings you get after... they don't last, do they? That's why you have to do it again, that's why you have to keep moving from one to another to another. In the end, my sweet girl, they only serve to make you feel worse about yourself. Surely you can see that. The pain, the depression, the feelings you're trying to stave off are getting harder and harder to push away.

   I'll let you in on a secret. You're the one who holds the key to feeling better. It's hard. You have to dig down deep and do something that's really, really hard to do. You have to learn to love yourself. Because, here's the thing, we lied to you when you were little. We told you there were princes who would come along and slay dragons for you. We told you these princes would save you. But that's not the truth. The truth is that the princess has to save herself.

   Love yourself. Encourage yourself. Be true to yourself. Believe in yourself. Celebrate yourself.

With love, compassion, and understanding, 

Someone Who Has Been Where You Are

Mom Winks

    This coming Tuesday, it will have been 11 years since my mom passed away. That's 4018 days, or 96,432 hours, or 5,785,920 minutes without my mom. That's eight miscarriages, a nine-month separation from my husband, my dad's heart attack, the loss of two grandparents, a hospital stay, and six moves without my mom. This will make 11 Christmases without my mom.
    Oh, I'm not in any way throwing a pity party for myself. I mean, I have. Hell, the first six Christmases were one great big, non-celebrating, I-hate-holidays pity party. I realize now how blessed I am. I had 31 years with my mom. And since then, my stepmom, my amazing mother-in-law, two aunts, a myriad of older cousins, and two of my best friends' moms have all stepped in to fill that void. They've done a great job. And every single one of them is so very appreciated (Sharon, Diane, Sandy, Jean, Dixie, Jo, Dawn, Brenda, Kay Kay, Mrs. Barbara -- <3 you all). Besides being blessed, my mom would never, EVER have suffered through my six year pity party. So, there's that.
    Many of you know that I started my ornament swap three years ago as a memorial to my mom. She loved Christmas and it's something we shared. We decorated the tree together, and once it was decorated, we would turn off all the lights in the house, sit around the lit Christmas tree and sing "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen." Yeah, we were dorks. But we were dorks together, and we were happy being dorks. One year we put all blue lights on the tree, all blue balls (my mom was so much better a mom than me, cause she never once cracked a smile over those blue balls), and we made fans out of heavy-duty aluminum foil and blue ribbons. Again, yes, dorks. But we were quite possibly the only people with a tree safe from aliens that year. Well, except my Grandma, cause mostly you couldn't see her tree for the silver icicles.... that she placed individually. Yes, my entire family is dedicated to Christmas decorating.
   Anyway, this is mostly all backstory for the real meat of the blog post. A week ago, my cousins lost their mom to cancer. She valiantly fought that God-awful disease for over 14 years. And I just want to take a minute to say that the grace and beauty of how her girls have handled things this past week is surely a testament to her. Kim posted an anecdote the morning after her mom passed away about seeing the Rockefeller Christmas tree and how it made her think of travelling to New York with her mom three years earlier to help her find the strength to keep fighting. I commented on her post, and said that I truly believe things like that happen when you need them. 
   SQuire Rushnell, an author, motivational speaker, and former television exec, has written several books about coincidences, calling them "God Winks." Maybe I'm crazy, but that's what I like to think of things like what Kim mentioned. Maybe "God Winks" but really more like Mom Winks. Just a little reminder that she knows what I'm going through and I was raised by a strong, godly woman, and I can take it. My mom loved hummingbirds -- loved them. Like seriously, if they flew into my mom's windows she would pick them up, massage them, and if necessary, perform mouth-to-beak resuscitation. (Dorks, remember? Or as my mom would have said, "Dorks, member, FDIC?") I've seen hummingbirds late in the year, long after they should be gone, and years after I've had a feeder out for them... when I was going through a miscarriage. I've had hummingbirds fly up and hover... when Brian and I were separated. Basically, when I've really, really needed my mom, a hummingbird shows up.
   So, this week, since Monday, has been a pretty crap week. Without going into too much detail, we're slogging through a hot mess that would probably make Letterman's top 10 list of parent's nightmares and if not that then it would definitely make a compelling Jerry Springer episode. Yesterday was an incredibly long day, with about three hours of driving and meeting with people, and just sheer mental exhaustion. When we finally got home, I stopped in the garage to smoke. (Cut me some slack -- really, seriously, crazy bad week.) Brian sent me a message that there was a package on the table for me. I came in, grabbed the package, went down to talk to Brian more about the hot mess, then opened my package.
    Carolyn Rucker, of Tallahassee, Florida, I know you don't know me. I've never met you, and the only time we've "spoken" was when I gave you your recipient's name for the ornament swap. You, dear lady, healed my soul last night. I opened that package, and lo and behold.....

there was my hummingbird reminding me that she KNOWS what we're going through, and that I WAS raised by a strong, godly woman, and that we CAN get through this.
     My wish for my cousins, as they enter this next stage of their lives, is that they have plenty of Mom winks. Merry Christmas everyone, and if you have the chance, gather your loved ones around the tree, turn off all the lights, and sing "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen."