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

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 ...

  “’The moment a child is born, a mother is born also.” ~ Rajneesh  As children we adore our mothers. Moms are our first home, friends, teachers, storytellers, and builders of our imaginations. They pack our lunches, give us the last of the ice cream and make sure Santa delivers, without fail. Moms laugh at our silly jokes, listen to our wild stories, replay our favorite movies repeatedly and frame our artwork on the wall like a Picasso.   Moms pick us up when we fall. Wipe our tears, dust us off and stitch us up. They’re our first confidantes, champions and defenders. Moms tuck us into bed, read our favorite bedtime stories and sing to us as we fall asleep.  Moms are the first to chase the monsters out from under the bed or out of the closet. They’re the first to soothe our screams in the middle of the night and make room for us in the bed. Moms are our safe places and our go to any time of day or night, anywhere. We trust our moms. The safety we find inside th...

“Half time goes by, suddenly you're wise. Another blink of an eye, 67 is gone. The sun is getting high. We’re moving on.”  ~100 Years/ Five For Fighting  From the moment we’re born each of us is aging. Every minute we’re breathing we’re getting older. One day closer to moving on, right? Now, most of us don’t stop and think about getting old. At least not while we’re young anyway. As we slow down and the double digits pile up, getting older becomes more of a reality than a possibility one day.  As children we rarely think about our parents' age. Or the fact that they might not be there one day. We think they'll live forever. They’re rocks. Always there. Steadfast, never wavering. Our parents are the steady force behind us. Pushing us forward. Believing in our dreams. Building us up. Encouraging us and always proud of who we are becoming. They give us our names. As children they tell us stories and sing to us when we're scared. Tuck us in at night. Turn the night light on...

  Life is strange. That’s for sure. It’s both beautiful and terrible at the same time. Some days make sense while others are completely mystifying. One day you’re on top of the world and the next you’re buried under 10 feet of rubble. No explanation. No clarification. And absolutely no resolution or solutions in sight. Just dust and debris. Who could have imagined this mess, right?  Or the destruction it brought.  But here you are. Covered in debris. Stuck and pinned down in a heap of ash. If you move one way or the other, bricks fall. If you stay still the whole building collapses. Bottom line is you’re damned if you do and damned if you don’t. Either way loss is inevitable.   Life. It’s complicated.  And loss, well, it’s agonizing.   The problem is once you’re under the rubble, it’s hard to dig your way out. Doesn’t matter how you got there. You’re there. Everything you loved crumbled to the ground. Anger, rage, resentment, and hurt each one flo...

                        Sometimes we put up roadblocks, shutting down all the easy roads to us. I know I've been there a time or two myself. It’s easier to close ourselves off than deal with the noise and commotion around us. It’s not that we’re ignoring the havoc or don’t see the chaos. We simply need silence. I know when life hands me lemons I need to slow down and be still. But mostly I just need time to figure it all out. So, the barriers go up. I steal myself away until I’m ready to make lemonade.  Truthfully, it takes time to get yourself right. To sort it all out and accept where you are. That’s the key though really. Accept then act. None of us should force things. It only leads to more upheaval. Nothing happens overnight. And the art of making a great pitcher of sweet lemony goodness starts out with a bunch of sour lemons.   Hurt and pain don’t just wash away. Happiness just doesn’t show up and...

    “No one tells you the hardest part of being a parent is when your kids grow up.” ~Unknown    Most of my adult life I’ve been a mom. In fact, for over 2 decades my whole identity has been and was wrapped up in one word. Mom. I knew no other name, job or calling. I was a mom, through and through. So, what happens when your children leave the nest? Or worse, become estranged.  How do you cope? There’s no map to navigate. And believe me, the host and array of emotions it brings is life altering. When you’re facing the sudden loss of your child, how do you keep your head above water or stop yourself from drowning in the deep end?     Truthfully, I have no idea. I wish I did. If the nest is emptied naturally, it’s bittersweet. If not, it’s devastating. As parents you wait your whole life for your children to spread their wings. You love, nurture and praise them. Build them up. Pray for them. Provide, sacrifice, and yes, you fail them just as many ti...

“As a mom I go to bed every night promising myself that I will do better. Most days I stumble, some days I am down right ashamed of my behavior. I wish I was perfect for you, but I am human and sometimes I will fail. But I promise to never ever give up!” ~ Unknown Growing up an only child with a rather big imagination I kept my mama on her toes. I had dreams as big and wide as the open skies of Texas. By now I shouldn’t have to tell you my dreams were equally as big as my imagination. I’d spend hours dreaming up adventures in far off places, I spent most of my afternoons daydreaming about kings and queens,  knights, dragons, the Jedi and of course superheroes. I wanted to grow up and be a teacher, writer, singer, dancer and even a soldier like my daddy. Contrary to popular opinion at the height of the late 70's and early 80's becoming a mom was at the top of my list too. I told you I had dreams...big ones. Now I won’t candy coat the truth, life made a fairl...

“Running away from your problems is a race you’ll never win.” ~ Unknown We’ve all heard the story of the prodigal son. He’s notorious, right? He left home, packed his bag, took what was owed him, said adios to his family, turned his back and set off to see the world and live big. He was his own man, ready to do his own thang. You know how it is when you’re young. Our protagonist wanted nothing more than to live high on the hog, party, mingle with the masses and make a name for himself. OK. I know it’s a bit of a cliché, but I can’t help but think of Smash Mouth here. I’m envisioning our wayward son pulling an “All Star” move with his finger and thumb in the shape of an L on his forehead. I mean come on. Let’s be honest. On the way out the door he pretty much flipped off his family and disappeared. In the bigger picture, we can see what he can’t. Youth, money and good times don’t last. In fact, at some point we lose all three in our lifetime. You know this and so do I, b...

“Behind her smile, there is a story you would never understand.” ~ Unknown I’ll be writing my own fairytale today…Yes you heard me correctly. For years I’ve been writing stories. Piecing each one together through old familiar tales. Today however, the tides have changed. And I think it’s time I tell my fairytale. In my own words, unapologetically.  First of all any good southern fairytale begins like this…. Y'all ain't gonna believe this ….And the truth is you might not, but that’s not my job. The task before me as a writer is simply to tell the story. Your position as a reader is to listen and then to decide which path you’ll take once I’ve finished my tale.  So shall we take take this leap together then? Are you ready? Are you sure? Alright. Close your eyes. Hold tight.  Here we go…. I was raised by Southern standards. Say what you will, horse feather or not, growing up southern has a charm all its own. Now the truth is I’m a bit old fas...