A Letter From A Friend

This is the 2^nd morning I have cried.

Let me back up … to decades ago. Between the ages of 15 years and my early 30’s I had a very best friend, Charlotte. Life happens and we lost touch over the last 6-7 years.

I received a Christmas card in the mail from her only weeks ago. The card was a family picture of her, her husband, two daughters (that were toddlers the last time I saw them) and a new baby. She had a baby! Having her new address I was happy I could send a Christmas card back. A card with a letter.

My letter let her know about both Brooke and Mariah’s dads along with my email address.

Yesterday morning I opened my 1^st email from her.

A span of time bridged. Life quickly catching up.

It was her words of friendship that she cried when she read my letter. That she couldn’t explain to her husband our friendship so long ago to life’s tragic turns. My own fresh tears of friendship.

She remembers. She was there and remembers Eric and Keith. Through my own tears reading her letter, I remembered Charlotte and Eric’s relationship and laughed to myself at the memories. I often thought of their relationship similar to the tv sitcom “Martin.” The constant teasing and insulting relationship between Martin and Pam, Gina’s best friend. Eric made her cry the first day they met, that alone made the next 10 years of my relationship with Eric full of laughs and insults between those two.  

I read on ... Charlotte lost someone, too. A daughter. Two years ago.

My favorite part of the day is early in the morning when my home is quiet and I am the only one awake. Coffee. Christmas lights. The Today show. Ahhhh, me time!

Early this morning I opened her 2^nd email. Her daughter was born and died a couple short hours later two years ago 'today' ... fresh tears for her.

Tears for her loss. Tears for her pain. Prayers for her strength today.

My thankful heart for time that spans and friendship mended.

Life catching up quickly.

Oh What a Tangled Web We Weave

She spun her web
           carefully
  methodically
                artistically
         entrapping his mind
                       watching him flail in indecision
         pulled between his own instincts
                        and her suggestions
                                he tossed amidst the silky threads
                                   that grew tighter
                                       with every inner protest
              and she
       watching from afar
             gazed at her creation
                 trusting that he would see
                     the wisdom of her words soon enough
       and just as she thought it time to move in
                       and claim her prizes
               her foot became caught in her own snare
                       crying out for help
              she realized too late
                       the help she sought was also entrapped
                              rendered useless by her own hands
                      gazing at one another
                           across the distance of their predicament
                                   they watched one another
                                           die separate deaths
                          slowly
                               painfully
                     amidst misunderstandings
                        and a million regrets
                  he
                    for not being strong enough
                           to keep her from her own ruin
             she
                for not letting go of the reins
                       and grasping his hands instead
                                his hands
                                    that now seemed further away then ever
                    constrained by her own determinations
                         losing the power they once had ...
                   feeling her own strength dissipating
                       as she watched the color drain from his fingertips
         she realized all too late
                 that webs of manipulation
                         though beautiful in the making
                                were the most deceptive of all
             their delicate lattice work
                     quickly transforming into iron prisons
                             that bound both
                                    "victor" and victim
                 the chasm of betrayal
                        too broad to afford
                them the comfort of one another's solace
                       as they quietly died inside
                               too tired to fight
                too ashamed of their own participation
                        in this most shameful demise
             they closed their eyes
                     and dreamed of better days
                              as she concluded
                                      that webs were best left
                                             to the work of spiders ...
                                                              - Michelle McKinney Hammond

"Oh, what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive." - Shakespeare

When does it begin?  A glance. A smile.

His eyes. His lips. His hands. His touch.

Femininity. Womanly expertise. She feeds his soul and he basks in her attention, well-loved and well-appreciated.

A dangerous dance that ends up costing more that it gains.

To feed the soul, then to stand back and see what comes to fruition.

A Palm Tree

Today I stand on the threshold of a new year … a new beginning!  With a thankful heart I am relieved that I have survived 2011 with my life, health and yet still happiness.

I do reflect over 2011 and am thankful for so many successes. Two happy daughters. Milestones conquered. Health. New friendships. Deep relationships. Messages from heaven. My family whole. Employment in a high unemployment economy. That our needs are met every day and that we long for nothing. This list can go much longer. 

As a categorizing girl even my lists cannot be labeled as it was a good year or it was a bad year. It was a year in my life with blessings still showered on me in the midst of a few giants.

It is natural to be excited about a fresh start, a brand new year, new dreams and unmarked possibilities. Even 2012 will have giants to endure.

The Bible is beyond comprehension with its parables that span thousands of years. Always with prayer I seek strength and today my heart was reminded by my Magical Highlighter as I read Joel Osteen daily devotional:

Have you ever seen a palm tree in the midst of a great storm? That tree may be bent so far over that it’s almost touching the ground, but when the wind finally stops, that palm tree bounces right back up. What’s interesting is that while that palm tree is hunched over under the pressure of the storm, it is actually growing stronger?

The reason God said we’d flourish like a palm tree is because He knew there would be difficult times. He knew things would come against us to try to steal our joy and victory. God said, “You’re going to be like a palm tree because when the storms of life blow, you are going to come right back up stronger than before.” Nothing can hold you back! No weapon formed against you will prosper.

As you reflect on the events over the last year, remember, the storms you have encountered have only made you stronger. You are wiser, you are more alive, and you are headed for victory. You’re brightest days are right out in front of you! – JOEL OSTEEN

The very same God that brought me safely through the last 41 years of my life will be there in 2012, too.

New year, I embrace you. New dreams, I welcome you. Unmarked possibilities, I receive you. New giants, I endure you but I introduce you to my God.

A life well lived is built one day at a time.

In the Desert

I read an analogy about being in the desert today. The story of a journey from God’s promise to a “promised land” that ended up in a desert for 40 years. For 40 years. In a desert.

This is me. I’m hoping not 40 years though.

My whole life I have loved love.

I had a revelation of my own. I am pretty good at words of affirmations. Someone special recently took my words of praise as not sincere. That I am merely good at praise, with a host of empty words ready to say. He was wrong.

Caught off guard, I had to quickly get the last 20 years summed up in my own mind before I could explain it to him, which had me thinking about my own story.

In my 20’s I was a princess brat. Love was mostly surface, hot tempered and replaceable. In my early 30’s I just had a little more experience and with a touch of real life that taught me humble pie, I did get myself into bad situations which calmed me down a bit. It wasn’t until my late 30’s that I began to really love. Deeply.

The agape kind of love where I wanted to seek it, read it, lose myself in it and perfect it.

It was during these last few years that I came to understand agape love and words of affirmations. Magical words that bring life from ordinary to extraordinaire!

Watching empty hearts come alive with sincere words of praise has taught me the power of words and even more, the power of love.

Words said are always true and sincere. If heard too much, they lose their power. This is a new balance I am learning.

When I look back over my own journey through the desert of life, I can now see the personal growth when all I used to see was broken dreams.

It was never about broken dreams. My year’s in the desert was God’s love protecting me from my own choices. God loving me too much to leave me where I thought I wanted to be, grooming me, while providing for me all along.

This desert has a beauty of its own. Initially it sounds barren and desolate; however, there is much beauty in the desert.

Strength. Endurance. Patience. Faith. Hope. Love.

Words of affirmations.

1st Anniversary of His Death

As a mom I have anticipated, planned, prepared, dreaded, and lamented over the next approaching milestone a year brings in order to buffer as much as mommy-powers can and prevent any unwanted emotions for my Brooke.

This is empathy. It is protection. It is compassion. It love for my little girl.

There are no rule books on how to handle each situation that arises or that prepares you for the dreaded unplanned moments that blindside bringing fresh tears and raw emotions to life again.

I’ve planned ahead and worried for today.

Does Brooke remember the anniversary date?  I look into her eyes days ago to ask the question. Sometimes I forget to breathe when I am trying to look calm and happy. Inside the pressure in my chest wants to suffocate me.

Brooke answers very matter-of-factly, “Yes I remember, my calendar is marked.”

Calendar?  Not prepared for her okay-ness which through me off, then she has a calendar?

Tonight Brooke will get her first spa experience of a mommy & daughter massage. We will get our massages, pick up ice cream sundaes on the way home where we will watch our DVR’d SpongeBob episodes in remembrance of her dad.

Today I woke up unexpectedly happy. Instead of dread, I woke up to the realization that our year of firsts is over!

We made it!  The past year is now a memory.

Grandma drove Brooke to school today and sent me this email …

Driving Brooke to school we got about 50 raindrops on our wind shield...Just as we pulled up to her school she noticed a huge rainbow…( just beyond school parking lot)  When she noticed it , it was vague....it become brighter and brighter and it almost glowed!!!! As soon as she walked inside the school , it faded......I told Brooke , I bet that’s from your Dad saying how happy he is in Heaven.....I made sure I didn't say it in a way to make her feel bad and she was fine with it.. While she ate her scrambled eggs she turned on sponge Bob ..:)

I haven't felt Keith's presence in over six months. Brooke said she hasn't either. Today though, we did get a message from heaven.

Love remembers.

One Year

One year.

December 19, 2010, the anniversary of Brooke’s dad’s death.

I am so thankful one year is almost a memory.

One year of milestones. A father-daughter dance. Birthdays. Holidays. Father’s Day. A first birthday without a daddy. A year of no more weekends with him. A lot of firsts with uncertainty and no rule book on how to handle them with care.

One year of living through a tragic death and picking up the pieces again.

One year of fear. One year of running to the battle line. How do I protect her heart?

I need to get this one year behind us.

I thank God it is one year later.

Lou Gehrigs Disease

It was just a few short weeks ago that I received another life-changing phone call.

My ex-husband, my Mariah’s dad, called to give me his diagnosis from five months of testing … Lou Gehrig’s Disease.

This was not familiar to me, so I asked, “What does this mean?” He replied, “It means I have 2-3 years to live.”

A simple phone call. Life changes. Forever.

It was less than a year ago that I received the phone call that my youngest daughter Brooke’s dad died.

There is a unique blend of feelings that collide during a phone call like this. It is suffocation. It is pain. It is memories. Tears become uncontrollable. Breathe. My daughter. Her dad. It is letting bygones be bygones. It is forgiveness. It is, “How do we get through this?”

As we approach the anniversary of Brooke’s dad passing, we have another tragic death approaching. This death won’t be sudden like the other. This one will be aggressive, a loss of quality of life to a tragic end. 

I have two hearts that hurt, my Mariah and my Brooke. I have two daughters that will experience life without a dad.

It doesn’t seem real to experience such loss and pain with one child, let alone both.

Life in perspective. Letting bygones be bygones.

A new journey called Lou Gehrigs Disease.