Thursday, October 19, 2017

Love Not Hate



                    How does love become hate and how do you turn hate back into love again?

The world we live in has become such a strange and volatile world to me. Strange in the sense that we are are seeing such an increase in hate filled rallies that are being passed off as "freedom of speech"  instead of calling them what they are and what they are intended to be.....movements motivated to cause actions and reactions by hate filled people justifying it as their 1st amendment right. Volatile in the sense that exercising said "rights" rarely remain productive or peaceful to the cause they are promoting with violent outcomes almost always expected.
There is a white nationalist speaking in Gainesville today. I have read his background and his platform yet still struggle to understand what his concrete stance is and what he is trying to achieve beyond racism and provocation.
My husband is in law enforcement and he was deployed to Gainesville yesterday to join the increased security in the hopes of deterring violence and maintaining safety. It is certainly not something that I am comfortable with but I have accepted it as part of being married to an officer. Everyday is diverse for him, and, this day will undoubtedly be like no other for him as he dons his riot gear and stands his ground in hopes that he is met with no angst that requires his intervention.
It's always hard to explain to our children the complexities of his job. Law enforcement has taken such an ugly turn and, yet, walking a day in their shoes is not something often considered. He stands there today as an officer in riot gear which is the role he chose but I see a husband, father, and son under that mask that his spectators today won't see. I always try to remain straightforward and honest to our kids as I answer their questions about his job, but, this event is obviously more hard to explain since it is difficult for me to understand how these people, all spouses, parents, and children in their own respect, are there to support or argue events that are motivated by hate.
So, I ask you how does love become hate and how do we turn it back into love again?
#Gatorsnothaters #lovenothate #prayforpeace

Friday, May 19, 2017

He Was Ours



He was ours when he was born. He cried loud yet he was consoled easily and his deep blue eyes almost immediately showed expression. I held him and saw perfection. He was big, bold, and bright and I promised him then as I watched him sleep that I may not always know what I was doing but I would always do my best.
He was ours when the smart, inquisitive, sparkly, and happy toddler emerged before our eyes. His soft brown hair and chubby little toes I just couldn't get enough of. I would rock him every night and sing "You are My Sunshine" and joyfully anticipate it when he always pulled his pacifier out of his mouth to sing the last verse with me.
He was ours when he developed into a handsome young man with a beautiful smile that did well in school and sports. It was a joy to see him proud of himself and knowing he would always be bursting through the door excited to tell us about his day.
He was ours when he learned how to play the saxophone and hit his first home run and noticeably hid his phone out of sight when he was talking about girls.
He was also ours when he started testing the boundaries, caring less about his grades, and his stormy personality gave way to emotional outbursts we had never seen before.
The conversations now revolve around telling us how terrible we are with the same conclusion every time that he hates us and it is painfully hard not to notice that his beautiful smile no longer lookes our way.
The sparkly boy with the deep blue eyes that sang "You are My Sunshine" with me and couldn't wait to tell me about his day was now locked behind a door and forcefully telling us to go away.
Today he is a teenager. Today I am the mother of a teenager. Today I have a label to attach to the behavior leading up to this day.
I quietly tell myself he is still ours as we battle the teen years together, and, as he gets harder to love, I am trying to remind myself to love harder. I can protect my heart, be patient, take deep breaths and still continue to guide him the best I can but I miss him as I fight the urge to touch his soft brown hair and look for that beautiful smile to find me again.
Happy birthday and it's okay if you hate us. Part of me knows you are supposed to and in a weird way it tells me we are doing something right. Just know that I definitely don't always know what I am doing, especially now, but I still look in on you when you are sleeping and promise you I will always do my best.

Monday, February 20, 2017

Fly Free and Shine Bright

"With the darkness comes the rain that soaks the soul and washes away the pain; with the sun comes the rays that warms the spirit and reminds it of better days." I wrote this quote after I woke up one morning after having a rough night. In the midst of tossing and turning and trying to suppress sadness so I could sleep, my mind made up these words and kept repeating them so much that I remembered it enough to write it down upon awakening....and, so, the story of heartache that prompted this:

The words I have not always been able to find with my mouth usually pour through my hands as I type or put pen to paper. However, sometimes and in certain situations, there are no words, no profound statements, nothing that can be said when you are trying to express your sympathies to someone suspended in grief. A grief so deep and suffocating that no words I could possibly find would even be able to help or alleviate in any way that kind of pain.
An incredibly brave boy with golden locks, sparkly eyes, and endless curiosity lost his life to leukemia and took a little piece of all of us with him. His mother, my dear friend, allowed us on his journey and we became a strong village of ongoing support that had believed he would survive and we join together now in the disbelief and devastation that he did not.
His family performed the unimaginable task of burying him this past weekend and somehow accomplished a peaceful, loving, and beautiful transition of giving him back to the world in which he was created. He sleeps within the Earth, under the trees, and with the birds soaring around him. He is free, and, yet, his sweet family is not as they must learn now to live without him.
I can still remember exactly how I felt when my father died from cancer 22 years ago. As much as I was overwhelmingly relieved that his suffering had finally ended, I was immediately suffocated by his absence. His uplifting guidance and his ever present pride he had in me was now quite obviously and unfairly gone. I didn't just love him. I needed him and I knew in that moment that his loss would leave such a huge void inside me which it did. To this day, that void can be found in me in many ways, and, yet, what I have learned with time is that there is a tiny space I can still feel where he has always remained, to not only exist, but, shine and do it so brightly that it draws me in every time. He somehow manages to cast his light. I don't know how but he just does.
That tiny space where we can still connect has guided me to him in vivid dreams since he passed where we can still talk. It gave me a sense of his presence on my wedding day, I didn't just feel it, I undoubtedly knew he was there. I felt comfort in knowing he would guide my sister to him when she passed away, and I see him everyday in my oldest son's eyes. Their undeniable resemblance brings me that visual reminder that he is present in ways I never imagined.
So, I know, even though, the rawness is still too new, this little boy's family will find their way too and their connection to him will be found.
I went to bed last night with thoughts of the blank card sitting on the counter that I have yet to fill and send to them. Trying to compose words in my head through my thoughts and feelings but they did not come in the way that I wanted them too. I was tired and still too sad to do it any justice.
So, I decided to sleep on it. When I awoke this morning, the quote I wrote at the top of the page is what my mind gave me. I laid there saying it over and over again in my head and listening to what it was trying to tell me until it gave me the clarity and inspiration I have been looking for to do what I have been needing to do. I need to connect to the pain they are feeling, not the condolences that I want to give them. There are no words to ease their grief but reminding them that his presence will live on in so many ways is what I can say because I truly know it can be done.
Fly free and shine bright sweet boy.

The Dash - 2024 Edition

 As 2024 approaches, it’s time for me to put  my intentions out there and to use this post to inspire me to keep them throughout the year.  ...