I wake surrounded by darkness and she’s gone. . . Again. I fight to remember the details, but they disappear like steam rising off a pond in the early morning hours. The dream is foggy, as if I am watching through barely open eyes. A tiny glimpse, a distant memory, a shooting star flying across...
It’s been quiet in this space for awhile. Me, always confused about the business side of me and the mom-blogger-figuring-it-out side of me. Last week I say to Chad, I think I want to go back to Running Chatter. Why? he asks as if I haven’t said this sort of thing a hundred times before.Shouldn’t my business thoughts and personal thoughts be separate? Just be you, he tells me, all of it is you. Just be you. . . easier...
I knew this girl in middle school. I’ll call her Sam, but that isn’t her real name. Actually, to say I knew her is an overstatement. I knew of her. I shared classes with her. We walked the same halls, had the same classmates, took notes from the same teachers, navigated the same hell of...
We have an art gallery in our living room. Twenty-six handmade pieces of one-of-a-kind art secured to the wall with Scotch Tape, hanging, slightly crooked, under our stairs for all the world (or our family) to enjoy. The gallery began about two weeks ago, during a winter storm. The wind whistled outside while snowflakes danced...
ohio
Oh, Summer. It’s been 6.5 years since the cigarettes my mom chose took her away from us. I can relate with everything you shared here, the wishes especially brought tears to my eyes. You articulated it all beautifully. Hugs to you today
Jenny, I am so so sorry that you understand any of this. I wish this wasn’t a common story. . .
Thank you for your words and I am just so sorry that you know. . .
Thank you.
You’re welcome, Woody.
Thank you. . .
Thank you, Summer <3
Much love to you, Jacinta. . .
Oh friend… so much of this sounds like it could have been my own life. I have the same unanswered questions. The same longings and wishes. The same anger that turned into confused acceptance. My mom has been gone almost 14 years and just like you, each day I think of her, wish I could hear her voice or smell her smell. My mom passed from lung cancer still puffing away on cigarettes as she was hooked up to her oxygen. But she was also an alcoholic. Addiction gripped her in many forms and it changed her. I always wonder what we could have done differently to help her. But now that time has passed I have come to terms with the fact That this was how things were meant to be. It was her time. Watching it all unravel and being there when she went to Heaven changed me. I’ve let go of the anger because I have faith that God’s plan transcends beyond what we want or understand. It doesn’t make it easy though. It never goes away. Big hugs, sweet friend. Xoxo
Holly, I am so sad to hear that our stories are so similar. Thank you for sharing a tiny piece of your own story. . . reminding me that there are so many with our story. You have obviously come so far–thank you for sharing that and I am so sorry that you understand my story as much as you do. So much love to you, Holly. . .