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'...

  There are times in life when nothing goes right. I mean absolutely nothing! For one reason or another everything is out of sync. We might know why, or none of it makes sense at all.  Confusion usually follows. Sadness and depression typically creep in at some point. Anxiety is a given and anger eventually makes its rounds too. So, what comes next? How do we turn things right side up once they’ve flipped upside down?  I have no idea, to be perfectly honest with you.. There’s no magic answer or trick to it. Sometimes you’ve just gotta go through hell and keep going till you reach the other side. It’s not a simple answer. It's simply the truth.   Why do I say this? Well, because I’ve spent a lot of time there myself recently. Let me just say it now, it's not fun. Nothing about being out of sync is amusing or a beer and skittles moment. It's downright miserable and uncomfortable really. When life gets all knotted up and the worms are out of the can, things can get...

  An Open Letter To My Son ~ I’m not sure where life took a wrong turn. But it did 2 and a half years ago. I’d love to tell you I understand everything. But I don’t. Not because I’m blind to my own faults. I know I have plenty of them. I’m mistaken often. I make the wrong choice, say the wrong thing and embarrass myself a lot. But what I’m not, is cold, without emotion, unfeeling or unapologetic. What I am is truly and deeply sorry for everything. I’m sorry for your pain and anger. I’m sorry for the damage done to our family and the rift between you and your brother. I’m truly distressed you’re separated from your Nana and Paw Paw. And I’m deeply remorseful that you've ever felt rejected. You are my son, and nothing can or will ever change that.  I hear your resentment and I deeply feel your hate. And it breaks my heart. However I’ve contributed to this injury, I’m sorry. I want to understand and hear you, to acknowledge and recognize your hurt. To face what it is I’ve do...

  I’m an optimist. Always have been, and always will be. It’s just who I am. I like to see the good in people and situations. I try to look past the negative. Not that I don't have moments of doubt and skepticism or hesitation. I do. I’m a realist too. I understand that not everything is going to come up roses. However, just because I have moments of confusion or uncertainty doesn’t mean I lose hope. I always have hope.  Some folks ask how I keep a smile on my face, especially when I’m at my lowest. I’ll be real with you here. I may be an optimist, but I’ve learned how to hide my pain and smile through it. Sometimes it’s easier to smile rather than explain. Chronic illness has taken a lot from me. Especially in the past 3 years. Surgeries, loss and grief have taken their toll. Estrangement has broken me. And yes, I feel every pin and needle prick drawing more and more energy from me every day. Still, I smile. Why? Because I have hope that whatever the outcome, I’ll find peace ...

  Sometimes life goes sideways. You can fight it and struggle with it. You can even scuffle with the pain and stress all you want. But the bottom line is you eventually have to stop grappling your demons and start sorting out the actual root of the trouble. Problems don’t just go away on their own. Toil and trouble doesn't just disappear because we want them to. Obstacles don't miraculously disappear by hiding from or ignoring strife or conflict. Our mix-ups and setbacks only get bigger, uglier, more intense and hostile the longer we brush them aside. It's like a gremlin, add water, and another one pops up. Then another and another one. Before long, your one gremlin has become as army of it's own. That’s the thing about discord, especially among family. The longer it continues, the more hostility and division it creates.  Prolonged quarreling, squabbling and engaging in assumptions only leads to more confusion and misunderstandings. Hence the gremlin effect.  Now, I’m ...

  “Your mistakes don’t define your character. It’s what you choose to do after you have made the mistake that makes all the difference.” ~ Dave Williamson If my life was a montage in a film, you’d probably be surprised by the bloopers reel. And when I say bloopers, I mean gigantic, enormous, colossal epic fails. My life is full of them. Quite regularly too. I’m an ordinary, everyday run of the mill, clumsy, muck it up, fish out of water. If there’s a way to mess it up, I’ll find it. Kinda like those Pinterest fails. Yep, that’s me. I start out with good intentions and suddenly the whole thing goes sideways before I know what’s happened.  So, let's get this out in the open right away. I’m about as flawed as they come. I don't have any superpowers. Well, that is unless you’re counting my ability to put my foot in my mouth or trip over my own feet. Then I have some rather amazing, dynamic and extremely high-powered capabilities.  Not that my whole life is amuck, all the time...

  “I think as you grow older your Christmas list gets shorter, because the things you want can’t be bought.”  ~Unknown    I’ve always loved the winter season, especially during Christmas time. As a little girl I’d bounce around the house with joy and curiosity watching my mom decorate. Hanging stockings, stringing lights around the tree all while listening to Christmas music fill the house. I’d dance in delight with the smell of cookies coming from the kitchen and the perfectly wrapped gifts piling up under the tree.  I remember waiting eagerly for each and every Christmas special. Everything felt magical. My excitement and enthusiasm built until Christmas day finally arrived.  As children, this time of year is wondrous and many times mesmerizing too. But as we become adults, Christmas can become complicated, burdensome even. It’s not that the magic is gone. We’re simply aware of life’s complexities. We carry stress and anxiety and at times feel more awkwar...

    I’ve been grappling with what’s around the corner lately. In fact, I’ve been thinking a lot about this subject. Pondering where I’ve been and where I’m going. What I could have done differently. What I can change. Some days I have a pretty good idea. Others I have no clue. But what I do know is this: I've lived a full, imperfect life. I’ve been bold, loved fiercely and unconditionally. I’ve definitely made hundreds of beautiful memories along with a good number of painful ones too.      Yes, I’ve made mistakes. Lots of them. Horrible and excruciating ones. I’ve fallen flat on my face. Landed on my butt. Are there moments I’d like to do over? Of course, certainly there are. But I have no regrets. Everything in my life has happened for a reason. Every step has led me to where I am. Every slip-up and blunder has been a teacher.      I have faults. Many of them. I’m lacking in more ways than one. I’ve been completely in the wrong and to...

“I like weird people. The black sheep. The eight balls. The left centers. The wallflowers. The underdog. The loners. The rejects. The outcasts. The odd ducks. The eccentric. The broken. The lonely. The lost and forgotten.” ~ Unknown    I grew up the oddball. Maybe you did too. You know, a little weird? I was different and not in the funny girl kind of way either. I was always too much for a lot of people. And honestly, it’s been that way my whole life. People either love me or they hate me. I rarely find anyone who falls in between. If you're a member of this club you know exactly what I'm talking about. You and I have never been what anyone expects; or to be honest, who they want us to be. I’ve never moved in the popular circles. I’m a wallflower and a book worm with a big imagination. Even now I’m not a girly girl, but I’m not a tomboy either. I was and have always been somewhere in-between.    To this day, I’m still the oddball. I’m sensitive; and believ...

  Let's get real today!  Be genuine and authentic. Speak truthfully, wholeheartedly with intention. If you're a spoonie, you probably know where I'm heading. If you're not. Pull up a seat, sit down and join the conversation. There’s a lot here to unpack. Ok, my question today, if you're dealing with any form of chronic illness, is this. How do you deal with family, trolls or outside influences who call you a phoney? Every spoonie has a muggle in their life or two or three even who invalidates their illness.Those who make it abundantly clear you're putting on an act.  You don’t even have to think about it. Names are already coming to mind, aren’t they? Let’s face it, you know the drill. It's an old routine and we all know how it goes…You need attention. You're dramatic. There’s nothing wrong with you. Oh and my personal favorite....you're faking it.  These kinds of people can’t grasp how you can actually be THAT sick, at all. I mean, come on. You don...