Brave Heart, Brave Soul. She who is brave is free.

  Writing has been a large part of my journey. It's brought joy, happiness and healing. But all journeys come to an end. For me, the time for words is gone and the time for living in the moment is here.  Each of our individual journeys tells a story. Stories weaved from our experiences. You could call it a collective of our imperfections, deficiencies, success and triumphs. Our familiarity and shared circumstances, adventures and encounters connect us. And for the last 18 years I've shared many of mine here. Some good, a few bad and many in between. Each has given me the ability to work through my demons, shortcomings, fears and uneasiness. Every entry has led to this one…my last. Now, don’t get me wrong. It's not that I don't have more stories to tell or experiences to learn from. Indeed, I do. I've simply reached a place of quiet and still reflection. A time to recall the past and prepare for the future and ultimately decide what I’m leaving behind.  Words or acti...

My dad turned 80 in July. I didn’t really grasp his age until the moment we all shouted “surprise” ! I understood 80 was coming, I had been planning his party for 6 months. But knowing and processing are two different things. My dad’s my hero. He’s kind and caring, forgiving and generous, compassionate, loving and forgiving. Plus he always has a bit of mischief in his eyes along with a contagious laugh hiding behind his smile. My dad’s humor is wicked and his stories, well, they’re hysterical. My dad can be humble and stubborn at the same time. Don’t get me wrong. He’s as human as they come. Dad gets grumpy sometimes, just like and gets stuck in his ways once and awhile. He’s not perfect, but he’s a good, honest man. There isn’t anything he wouldn’t sacrifice for his family.  When I was little, time didn’t seem like a foe. I was a child. In my little mind I had no doubt my dad would always catch me. But time waits for no one. So, when 80 came and went I pretty much tripped over my ...

  Son,  I'm not sure what's happened. But I think it started a long time ago. Maybe it was the TBI, maybe we weren't listening like we should have, or maybe it was just the road you were meant to take. Whatever got us here, had a purpose. I'm still trying to figure that one out, but what I know is you've become your own man. A man we're proud of. You're making your dreams a reality and that is pretty amazing.   I can say I'm sorry. I can ask forgiveness. But I can't go back and undo the past. All I can do is tell you I love you; we love you and we miss you. I'm your mom, I won't stop trying, just as I know you won't stop pushing us away. Maybe one day we'll meet up somewhere and start fresh. Maybe you'll fill us in on how you're doing and what's happening in your life. Maybe one day I'll get to see you smile and hear your laughter again, maybe one day you'll hug me again. Maybe...one day. But you know what? I'...