My First “True Love”

He had the coolest car ever!!! It was an old ’75 Dodge Charger. Metallic gold. White vinyl top. Racing wheels. Black interior with white leather seats. Racing steering wheel. Pistol grip gear shift. Soft rumble of an idle that you could feel in your chest from the end of the block. *sigh* And, if he was gettin’ on it at the main intersection six blocks away, it felt like he was coming right through the living room. God, I loved that car!

He was pretty cool, too. In fact, he was the most awesome guy I’ve ever known. Sadly, no other man has ever even come close.

He was the older brother of my best friend’s boyfriend. They all lived at the opposite end of the block from me. I was 15 the first time I saw him, he was shirtless with his head stuck under the hood of that beautiful car. When he stood up to greet me, I locked in on those piercing, soulful blue eyes of his. Oh, and that GREAT smile. But, those eyes. The way he was looking at me, I never wanted him to stop.

He was 6’4″, lean, tan, really nice arms, blonde hair… and, those beautiful blue eyes. He had such a fun laugh, too. We could talk about anything at all… or, he could be really quiet and we’d just soak in being together. You know how when someone gets quiet all of a sudden and you wonder if you said or did something wrong? I never felt that way with him. When he was quiet, I knew he was just processing something internally and would share it with me when he was ready. And, even when he was quiet, he would still lean in for a kiss, or hold my hand, or tell me he loved me. I never had to wonder how he felt. He always made me feel as if I were the only girl alive for him.

We never argued. Even if we didn’t agree on something, we would take the time to listen to each other and either compromise, or one of us would realize it meant more to the other and would be willing to try the other way first. He NEVER raised his voice to me or talked down to me. He showed me I mattered to him in every way. He was patient, understanding, and loving in everything we did together.

He knew I loved that car as much as he did. He would pick me up and we’d drive for a bit before he’d ask me what I wanted to do for the night. I would tell him we were already doing it. I was happy just riding with him. I didn’t care where we went or who we saw.

Sometimes, there would be a gathering at a parking lot where guys would race their cars. The first time I was with him, he stood me by the biggest friend there and told me he’d be right back. He saw I was disappointed and asked wasn’t I scared to be in the car while he was racing. I wasn’t. I trusted him. I knew he loved me and the car, and wouldn’t take any unnecessary risks to hurt either one of us. I knew he was smart enough to never go faster than he felt in control. He was an awesome driver and I loved watching him drive, especially racing. I don’t remember him ever losing.

He knew I loved the water and would take me to this park by the river not far from our homes. We would sit on the rocks and listen to the water lap up on the rocks while watching the boats pass by off in the distance. Then, he would swing with me, or climb to the top of the ladder with me and just hold me in front of him while we sat there looking out over the water together. When he would wrap his arms around me from behind, I felt like nothing bad could ever touch me.

A couple times a week, he would drive me over to the beach, even if it was late and we’d only be able to spend a few minutes there before getting me back home. He knew how much it meant to me to smell the salt air (especially at night) and listen to the waves crash in while digging our toes into the cool white sand.

One night, as he dropped me off at home, he gave me an extra slow kiss, held me a little tighter in our goodnight hug, and told me how he’d love me forever. But, just before he drove away, he told me that I couldn’t see him again. I still don’t know why. Whenever I would visit my best friend, I would say hello to him, but all he would do is smile and turn away. He never spoke to me again. There would be nights I would get calls with no one speaking, but if I called my best friend back right away, I’d hear the same background noises from the call before. My best friend would tell me all the time how he still talked about how much he loved me, but wouldn’t tell anyone why we weren’t together. We had seen each other for two years.

They ended up moving to the next town and I started seeing who would become my first husband. I ran into my best friend a couple years later. She said Jim still hadn’t seen anyone else and pretty much spent his evenings coming home from work, having dinner and a shower, and then going for a drive. I would hear him drive by my house. She said if he was drinking he would talk about missing me, but would never say why he broke it off.

I hope he found someone to love and have a family with. I’m sure he did. I hope he still enjoys taking long drives. I miss them so much. And, I hope she is loving every moment spent with him like I did.

Sheri’s First Love

Two grandmothers lived next door to each other with each of their daughters expecting their first child. On October 19^th, Grandma Davis’s daughter gave birth to a beautiful dark haired baby boy with deep brown eyes and a gorgeous smile. On October 29th, Grandma Mulling’s daughter gave birth to a blonde haired baby girl with blue eyes. The two babies would love each other unconditionally from the moment they met. David and Sheri were adorable together walking around as toddlers holding hands and him putting his arm around her.

When Sheri’s dad was stationed at the Long Beach, California, Naval Base, even being on opposite sides of the country didn’t make them forget each other. When her grandmother would write letters to her mother, there was always a special note at the end that told of David coming over to ask if she was home yet. He would tell her grandmother to give her the message that he loved her and to hurry home. They were only 3 years old!

Luckily, when she did come home, they both spent a lot of time at their grandmothers’ homes. He would walk over each morning to spend the day with her. He would gently push her on the swing, help her climb the ladder to the slide, and run around to catch her as she slid down. They would run around playing and giggling most of the day. When Sheri would hear his grandmother calling for him to come home, she would pout from the sadness of having to end their day together. David would put his arms around Sheri and tell her, “Please don’t cry, Sheri. It hurts my heart when you do.” Awwwww. How could you possibly not love him? They were only 5 years old!

Her grandfather kept a ladder in the back yard propped against the roof of the carport. David loved climbing up there. That part of the roof was flat and covered by a HUGE oak tree. Knowing she was scared, he would always be right behind Sheri holding onto her and the ladder to make her feel safe the whole way up and down. They could see the entire neighborhood from up there and it was like they were in their own little world. One day, her grandfather asked her why she climbed up there with him if she was afraid of heights. She told him she had to because she didn’t want to miss seeing how much David loved it up there.

He would help her climb the Japanese Plum tree and pick plums together. What they didn’t eat would become grenades for playing Army. They would throw them and roll down the little hill between the two houses. David would always cover her when they reached the bottom. God, that boy always smelled so good!

They would set up the laundry room as their “house” with dolls as their “babies”. He would walk through the door from the carport as if coming home from “work” and always pick up the “baby” and hug his “wife”. One day, as David walked in the door from “work”, Sheri ran up and threw her arms around him and kissed him right on the lips. He look quite surprised! He asked, “What was that for?” She said, “I’ve missed you so much! I hate when we’re apart.” Suddenly, he realized they needed something from the “store” and said he’d be right back. After that, he made a lot of quick trips to work and the store, always receiving a big hug and kiss from her when he walked in the door. They were only 8 years old!

As they got older, he spent less time at his grandmother’s house. But, every time they were together was like they’d never been apart. Their love for each other was unstoppable. Until…

About 6^th grade, David’s mother remarried and they moved away. Sheri was heartbroken!

She wonders often what became of him. She knows, without a doubt, he grew up to be a good man who is a loving husband and devoted father. Sheri had been spoiled by his sweetness and hoped whoever was lucky enough to have his love appreciated every moment of it like she did.

Happy Birthday, Papa

A heavenly happy birthday wish to my late grandfather, one of the greatest men I’ve ever known. Being a veteran of two wars, he taught me what true patriotism and sacrifice really is. Being a Georgia farm boy living through depressions and wars, he taught me the importance of a job well done and anything worth having being worth working for.

My grandfather, William Clayburn Mulling, Sr, was born in the tiny Georgia town of Lyons. He quit school in the 7th grade to help with the family farm. Papa learned the value of hard work from a very early age. He would later tell me that “anything worth doing is worth doing right.”

As World War II broke out, he proudly joined the Army as a medic. He wanted to do all he could to help his fellow countrymen survive the war. He often told gruesome and haunting tales of the time he served. (I only wish I remembered more of his stories.) He would also later serve in the Korean War.

While on leave during WWII, he and his Army buddies would walk into a small diner in Tampa, Florida. His world would forever change. He told me that he noticed this cute little country girl coming over to take their order and when he looked into her eyes, he knew he’d found his forever. From what I remember, they were married before his leave was up. Soon after, the war ended. A couple years later, my mother would be born, and then my uncle. Papa worked at a local plant in Tampa and would respectfully remain a union member there until retirement. 

After work, he would come home to a hot dinner and iced tea. He would then change clothes and relax in his recliner to watch the news. However, as a little girl who clamored for his attention, I doubt I made it too relaxing for him. I would climb up into the recliner and stand behind him so that I could put curlers in his hair. This was no easy feat, I assure you. His hair was Army short and slick from Vitalis, but I would keep at it until I got my grandmother’s pink and green curlers to stay put. He never squirmed. He would just let me do my thing for as long as I wanted. That poor man just wanted to relax after a long day of hard work and there I was digging my toes into his back end and pulling on his hair in every direction with him quietly asking me if he looked pretty. If that’s not pure love, then it just simply doesn’t exist!

As far as I know, I was the only person he would regularly say “I love you” to. Most likely because I say it A LOT and he probably just wanted me to hush. I once asked him why he didn’t love the rest of our family. He gave me a very hurt look and asked how could I say such a thing. I told him he must not love them since he doesn’t say it to them. His reply was, “Even if I don’t say it, they should know by how I treat them. What I do for them should tell them how I feel more than any words can. I do love them! But, just saying it doesn’t have half the meaning as doing things to show them.”

Even with only a 7th grade education, he was undoubtedly one of the smartest men I ever knew. He had beautiful penmanship, read and watched every piece of news available to keep up with current and historical events, and could mentally solve complicated mathematical equations faster than I could do them on the calculator.

He would swim with me and my brother in the pool. He would take us on walks around the yard and let us help him in his garden. (The man could grow anything anywhere.) He would let us crawl and climb all over him, no matter how tired he was. My absolute favorite memories of being with my grandparents were taking road trips. A lot of times we were visiting family in Georgia and Mississippi. But, there were a lot of times we would pack up the RV and just head up the road. No particular destination in mind. Just drive until we see something we like and stop to check it out. Those trips were the BEST! We’d watch old barns pass by the window, play road travel games, and sing. And, because my grandmother and I LOVED waterfalls, when he would see a sign for one, he’d stop so we could hike out to see it up close. I loved those hikes. I loved staring at those waterfalls.

I miss our talks. I miss our travels. I miss that man so damn much!

My Baby Boy Is Now A Man

My baby boy turns 18 today.

Let me allow that to sink in for a moment.

My baby boy turns 18 today!

I am so proud of the young man he has grown into.  And, while I am honored to have been a part of this beautiful journey of his, I can’t help but whine how unfair it is.  It’s really not fair, you know!

I used to rock this boy and sing him to sleep each night.  I’d pat his cute little tush or run my fingers through his hair if he woke up through the night.  Sometimes, I couldn’t help but to scoop him out of his crib just to hold him in my arms to watch that sweet little face dream.  This baby had the most infectious giggle I’ve ever heard in my life.  He ALWAYS woke up happy and ready to play and be loved.  As a toddler, he would run so fast at me to give me a hug that he would often knock me right off my feet.  Hence, the nickname “Zac Attack.”  (He still gives THE greatest hugs ever.)  I miss all that…

Yet I am eager to see the choices he makes as an adult now.

In making those choices, I hope that he remembers the man he is meant to be.  The man that I know he can be.  He is smart, witty, compassionate, sweet, talented, strong physically, mentally, and emotionally.

While the law may see him as an adult… he will forever be my sweet little baby.

As a man, I hope that he never forgets the joy he has brought to those who know him.  I pray that he finds more love in his life than his heart can ever hold.

I hope that his friendships stay strong and deep.

May he find peace in the simple things in his everyday life and never take them for granted, no matter how small or silly they may seem to someone else.

I hope he always remains humble, treating everyone he encounters with the same common decency he deserves in return.

I hope he doesn’t forget his manners and politeness to whomever he’s speaking with.  Keep holding doors open for others, say “Please” and “Thank you” along with “Sir” and “Ma’am”.

I pray that his smile continues to brighten the day for everyone who is lucky enough to see it.

I hope that he’ll continue his education into areas of interest and never stop wanting to learn more.  And, more.

I hope that he’s lucky enough to work in fields that he enjoys and never finds it difficult to treat his co-workers with the same respect he treats his superiors.

I pray that in love, he is caring enough to share an embrace tight enough to put her broken pieces back together again; compassionate enough to take her hand in his at just the right moment for no reason at all; passionate enough to kiss her “hello” in a way that shows her how much he’s missed her and “goodbye” in a way that will always give her a reason to miss him as much; loving enough to show her in all the little ways that she is his world and make her feel as lucky to have him as she really is.

I hope he’s smart enough to know when to apologize, realize when he’s wrong, or simply admit when he doesn’t know the answer but is willing to find it.

I hope that he NEVER forgets that no matter how far he may be away from me, he is always in my heart.  He ALWAYS has a home with me, no matter the circumstances.  He can always ask me for help with anything, for any reason.

I hope he understands how desperately I wish I could’ve given him everything he so richly deserves to have in this life and that it pains me to know that at times I let him down, whether he ever saw it or not.  I hope that he also understands that I always put him first and did all that I could to take care of his needs and keep him loved and happy.

But, most of all…

I pray that he knows how much I have loved him every single second since the moment he was conceived.  And, that I love him more and more with each passing day.  I know he’ll understand the depth of that love once he becomes a parent himself.  And, I know that he’ll make the most incredible daddy ever.  (Ummm… YEARS from now, right?)

I hope he remembers that he is a better man than most and his value as a man is only as good as his word. How he treats others is NOT a reflection of what they deserve or how they’ve treated him, but a direct reflection of the type of person HE is.

He will never be too old, or too big, to hear me tell him how much I love him or kiss and hug him.  And, I hope that he’s not too terribly embarrassed when I still call him “punkin'” or “baby”.  (Not that I’ll stop if he is.)

I know he’ll continue to make me proud…  and he’ll always be my baby.  I will love him unconditionally…

ALWAYS & FOREVER.

 

Who should park there?

I’ve seen a lot of posts about handicapped parking lately and I’d like to put in my two cents. I 100% agree that if you do not NEED to use that parking space, then you should never use it. Under any circumstances. No matter how quickly you intend to be in and out.  I believe that there is a lack of compassion and an overabundance of selfishness involved in utilizing disability access when unnecessary.  Maybe you’re just purely lazy that day, or maybe you’re simply too impatient as you hurry throughout your day.  Maybe, even, you don’t think it affects anyone and are simply ignorant or unaware.  Whatever the reason, be assured, it DOES matter!

To many, having simple access to a place of business means the difference between being productive and carrying on with their lives as best they can, or being completely and utterly helpless and dependent on others.  Many of us recklessly take for granted the ease of moving about doing simple tasks without restriction or severe pain.  Most of us have no frame of understanding of a chronic illness or disability.  Thankfully, the majority of people will never have to know.  They won’t know the physical pain, the shame, the helplessness, the hopelessness, the depression, the embarrassment, the emotional and physical struggles that occur many, many times on a daily basis.  I thank God that they will remain “normal” and continue to lead healthy and productive lives.

The problem is, there are many who ARE embarrassed to use the handicap spaces because they don’t “appear” to be handicapped. Too many of us have disabilities that are not visible. I won’t use a space unless I absolutely have to!!! Even if the other spaces are up close to the door, that handicapped spot should be saved for someone who needs wheelchair access. Someone may need as few steps that day as possible.  Someone may have bulky walkers or other equipment that they have to deal with each time they enter or exit a vehicle.  They NEED those parking spaces or access to the ramps!  Some of us have disabilities that make us choose to either be able to walk the parking lot to the store, or be able to walk long enough to get our shopping done. I make my choices wisely. So, please don’t judge someone who seemingly is not handicapped with anything you can SEE.

Most days I can’t even stand long enough to do more than a sink full of dishes. But, on better days, I would like to try to get errands done, if possible.  Some days, I force myself to do things that I know will cause even more pain, and restriction, for days to come.  Every day, I have to make choices.  I choose which priorities of the day will be attempted first before being unable to do anything else.  The only things I know for sure that will get done on any given day is that I will wake up my son (several times because he always manages to fall back asleep), drive him to school, eat something so I don’t get sick from my meds, try to concentrate long enough to work (luckily from my own computer at home), and… well, that’s about all I’m absolutely sure will happen.  Everything after that is a bonus.  I don’t want it to be like that, yet it is.

I won’t go into the severity of the symptoms or pain.  I will only pray that I will be one of the blessed ones to find a treatment that works well enough to “take the edge off” so that I can tolerate and manage them to function as a “normal” person again.

You can’t see or feel what I’m going through, but I assure you it is very real.

So, while I want everyone to CARE enough to not use handicapped parking spaces without absolutely needing to… and, I mean REALLY need to…

I also want everyone to be EDUCATED enough to not judge those who do need to use them, even when the necessities are not visually obvious.

Pride vs Prejudice

I’m perplexed by something I’m seeing more and more lately.  Someone, somewhere on some social media site, will make a post stating how proud they are of their (insert heritage, religion, ethnicity, political affiliation, gender, etc.).  In essence, they’re simply saying they’re proud of who they are.  The crazy part is that inevitably someone else views this as a personal attack for not sharing the same (insert heritage, religion, ethnicity, political affiliation, gender, etc.).

It doesn’t take long for virtual yelling and name-calling to ensue.  It can become quite ugly and nasty.  In fact, it can result in a loss of friends, or even a family feud.

Craziness.

Now don’t get me wrong.  I have no tolerance for bullying or prejudice.  But, there’s a huge difference in someone stating that they’re proud to be an American versus someone saying that anyone not an American is (insert horrible, wrong, worthless, etc.).  A monumental difference.  If someone is proud to be who they really are, why would you belittle them for saying so?

On the flip side, if they say that anyone who is not (insert American, heterosexual, liberal, Catholic, Caucasian, married, etc.) is wrong or stupid or whatever, then why would you even care to engage in a conversation with them?  They’re obviously close-minded.  If they’re narrow-sighted enough to only believe that THEY are right and EVERYONE else is wrong, your words will not sway them into any other view.  Trust me on this.

We should be proud of who we are.  Plain and simple.

That pride doesn’t mean that we dislike any and all who are not just like us in every way.

I’ve said a million times that our differences are what make us so great.  I don’t want all my friends or family to be exactly the same.  I can’t learn anything from someone who shares all the same opinions and beliefs that I have.  Only interacting with those who have different views can bring about the opportunity to learn from one another.  Understanding and accepting the fact that we can each possess our very own belief system, yet be respectful of each other and even be friends, is key to our own personal growth.  Growing is good.  I want to grow.  Don’t you?

We should all take an extra moment to think about what is really being said BEFORE we respond.  We might learn something.  And, that’s something to be proud of.

Saying Goodbye To 2015

I can’t say that I’m sorry to see this year end.  In fact, I’m quite happy for it go.  Don’t get me wrong, 2015 started out nicely.  However, the last quarter went downhill very quickly, and drastically.

For most of the year, things were going smoothly, with only a minor glitch here and there.

Finances were strong and we were able to take care of long neglected necessities, and even took in a much-needed small family weekend vacation.  Paying bills was enjoyable instead of stressful.  Being able to handle emergencies or unexpected expenses was a huge relief instead of pure panic.  We even treated ourselves occasionally with a nice dinner out or a movie, which had previously been far out of our reach.  We were blessed to be in a position to help others in need by making donations or giving gifts, and would take great pleasure in things like surprising someone behind us in a drive-thru by paying for their order.  It was so nice to not have to constantly tell our kids, “I’m sorry, but we can’t afford that.”

Work was plentiful and we took pride in providing for our family.  Long hours could be tiring at times, but we were thankful for them.  We were grateful for the opportunity to do what we do best.  We felt productive and relished in the fact that goals finally appeared to be attainable.

Family is always cherished.  The kids excel in everything they do, have great friends, and are very happy while maturing so much more quickly than we’d like.  We’re a strong family that doesn’t hide from our disagreements that can sometimes turn into full-blown knock-down drag-outs, while always making it extremely evident that we love each other so deeply that we cannot even fathom anyone or anything being able to tear us apart.

Friends are always a blessing.  They are my very own personal support group.  They are treasures that never fail to bring a smile to my face.  They offer encouragement even when I’m unaware that I need it.  They give from their hearts without knowing that their timing is impeccable.  And, they give me nothing but 100% complete honesty, even when it’s hard for me to hear, because they respect me enough to never doubt I’m worth the truth.

And, then…

Work trailed off.  Unexpected expenses blew through our long fought-for savings like a category 5 hurricane.  Finances became a struggle again before the holidays and things became very uncomfortable again.  We know that things will pick up again soon, but we also are familiar with the fact that it always takes longer to get caught up than is expected.

We soon became living examples of Murphy’s Law.  It seemed at every turn some other something was going wrong.  We continued to fight to keep our spirits up and remain focused and positive.  Among the going-wrongs, three different vehicles required costly repairs.  In fact, mine will go into the new year sitting motionless in the front yard until we can afford the needed parts.  And, of course, by then, Scott’s hours will have picked up and we’ll fight for the time for him to be home long enough to actually make said repairs.  His new work location will be a trade-off of him giving us a better payday for spending most nights away from home.  Can’t win for losing, right?

Health has been an enormous issue this past year.  With this large of a family living in such tight quarters, there’s always someone sick as every little illness makes its rounds.  Scott has had two procedures done to try to alleviate severe back pain.  So far, they don’t seem to have helped like we had hoped they would.  I pray that he’ll be pain-free again soon.  I finally started going to the doctor after years of not being able to afford to seek medical care, but unable to take the pain and various symptoms any longer.  Boy, did I open a can of worms there.  I never knew there could be so many different things wrong with one person.  I’m sure neglecting medical attention for so long contributed to the deterioration of my health.  Along the way, some cancer scares came into play in more than one area, but cleared biopsies were more than a mere relief.  Fibromyalgia, rheumatoid arthritis, hypothyroidism, insomnia, and various other ailments are finally on their way to being treated.  Ankylosing spondolytis (which is currently the largest source of chronic pain at the moment), bleeding diverticulosis, irritable bowel syndrome, and a host of other problems have yet to be treated, but I’m working on them.  Excruciating pain, along with a plethora of other symptoms have rendered me pretty much useless for almost an entire year.  Many days are difficult to function even on a minimal level.  Much of the time I feel as if I’m in a fog and find it almost impossible to focus.  At times, my ability to concentrate on anything at all is gone.  And, yes, I still have a loss of vision in my right eye.  It’s a wonder no one has taken me out back and put me down yet.

But…

My family and friends remain the biggest blessings of my life.  Without even a single one of them, I seriously don’t think I’d make it through one more day.  They are my life support.  They keep me going when I have no idea how to function.  They’ve stepped in to pick up my slack.  They are my heroes.  Scott remains my rock and without hesitation, while in pain himself, takes on even more responsibilities to keep our lives moving forward.  My world continues to exist only because of the help of Scott, Mom, the kids, and my loving friends.  I am more than thankful for each and every one of them.

So…

Going into 2016, I am hopeful that things will pick back up and become our best year ever.  We WILL survive our set-backs and come out further ahead than we could have ever imagined.  We WILL be back on top and finally provide the life we dream of for our family.  We WILL.

My New Year’s wish for all of us, and all of you, is to have all we need, more laughter than sorrow, more sunshine and warmth than stormy weather, more health than sickness, more dreams coming true than nightmares, more flying high than rough and bumpy roads, and more love than hearts could ever hold.

Hello, 2016, please be good to us all.  2015 was a moody bitch.

Happy New Year!

What Is The Answer?

In response to those who feel rioting is justified:

I completely agree that there is a problem. A problem on both sides. I’m very fortunate to not know any “bad” cops. Yet, I am fully aware that they do exist in greater numbers than anyone cares to admit. Does it need to be addressed? Absolutely. However, my stance on the riots remains. There are how many peacefully protesting? Many. The few that are tearing apart their own neighborhood and businesses are accomplishing what, exactly? Taking even more needed money and jobs from their own community? Believe me, I’ve been OUTRAGED at many a thing in my life, but I have yet to physically attack anyone or damage their property. Should these people be frustrated and outraged? Yes, they should! Enough to do something about it? YES!

Is rioting the answer? I don’t believe so. If you can explain to me what issue the rioters’ violence resolves, I’ll be happy to give it due consideration.

And, by the way, these wrongful deaths don’t JUST happen to non-whites and they are not ONLY committed by whites. Is there still a race issue in some areas? Sadly, yes.  Should we do something about it?  Of course.

Is there a problem with crime?  A VERY big problem.  Do we need to make a stand against it?  You bet we do.  But, can we at least admit that criminals come in all colors, shapes, sizes, with little regard to religious, ethnic, or political background?

So, if outbursts of violence, theft, and property damage aren’t the answer, what is?  What can we do to turn this around?

I wish I could make all the problems go away for everyone.  Unfortunately, I can’t, no matter how hard I wish for it.

I know too many people who have come from bad neighborhoods, poverty, broken families, and various other “handicaps” that have gone on to overcome it all.  What pushed them forward?  Determination that they would not fall victim to being defined by their “handicaps”.  Self respect drove them to become the people they wanted to be.  Many had at least one person in their lives that truly believed in them and offered encouragement.

While I believe that in EVERY neighborhood, we need to provide better education, more jobs, and more crime control… I also believe that it takes people who WANT to have a better life.  If a person believes their best, or easiest, option is to be a criminal, that’s all they’ll ever be, no matter what other options are available to them.

So… what is the answer?

I’d say it starts with parents SHOWING and TEACHING their children good work ethics, respect for themselves and others, and to believe.  Believe that they can do better.  Believe that they can be better.

What do you think?

Reflections of 2014

As one year closes and another begins anew, we always find ourselves reflecting.  Looking back… and, looking forward.

We, of course, hope that any unpleasantness is left far behind in the old year and that we will have bestowed upon us a bounty of blessings in the new year.

2014 was a wonderful year in many personal aspects and I truly hope that 2015 will only bring more joy.

It was a year, along with many in the past, that held sorrows from loss.  Deaths of loved ones, lost friendships, missed opportunities, and the pain of burdens carried.  This past year brought about challenges, both difficult and empowering.  It created growth and enlightenment in many areas.  The year was full of changes that were both scary and exhilarating at the same time.  Sadness and joy were at every corner.  Choices were made with the best intentions at heart.

And, I have to say… I think we did okay.

In fact, under the circumstances and starting from little to nothing, I feel that we did more than okay.  Much more than okay.  We still have so far to go, but I’m proud of what we’ve accomplished in 2014.  So while in many ways I see the year as a disaster worldwide, personally, I’m putting it in the win column for us.

We became more financially stable, to a degree.  Is anything ever really stable?  I can’t tell you how gratifying it was to more easily meet the needs of our family and to randomly be able to help others in various ways.  That’s very important to us.  Obviously, providing for our family comes first, but it’s such a wonderful feeling to be able to do a little something for someone in need.  We’ve been there.  We know what it means for someone to reach out, even when the last thing you WANT to do is take from others.  We’ve had NOTHING so we really do understand the blessing of receiving, no matter how small.  Being wealthy is nowhere in the cards, but getting by is so much easier these days and I’m so thankful for that.  It’s a very peaceful feeling and I’m grateful.  Besides, our wealth comes from much more than just our bank account.

Our relationship is stronger than ever.  Our love is deeper than I’ve ever felt.  We work together to make things happen.  We share the same beliefs, faith, and dreams.  We encourage each other.  We lean on each other.  We keep each other grounded.  And, we enjoy each other.  We keep no secrets from one another and it’s easy to trust each other.  One’s fear is the other’s confidence.  One’s weakness is the other’s strength.  We fit together perfectly.  We have an ease with each other that neither of us has ever experienced with anyone before.  We don’t argue, we discuss.  To be truthful, I’m not sure we ever REALLY even get mad at each other.  We learn from each other and we share every emotion and experience we encounter.  Separately, we are flawed and unraveled.  Together… we are one perfect love.

Our family is doing well, even when encountering setbacks.  To be honest, I think our biggest complaint at the moment is being in such a tiny home and not having anywhere close to enough space for all of us and the things we need.  I love this street (dirt road), mainly because there’s so few people living on it and we’re surrounded on three sides by wooded areas.  Our neighbors are all in front of us.  And, they’re good neighbors.  It’s a quiet neighborhood with friendly people.  And, it’s very comforting knowing that Zac has a “second family” with his best friend right across the street from us.  A few streets up and over is a local pharmacy that has a basketball hoop that the kids play at.  Dairy Queen, Huddle House, and the convenient store are close enough for the kids to walk to.  (Because, you know, allowances burn holes if left in the pockets too long.)  There’s room in most yards for them to play football.  The boys camp, hunt, and hike in the woods all around us.  There is only one middle school and high school in the entire county, and since we’re in the county seat, they’re close by.  Everyone seems to be deeply rooted here and it’s fun learning everyone’s connections to each other.

We live “in town”, but we’re still very much in the “country”.  And, it’s great.  We’re close to all the little stores, local bank, post office, etc.  But, neighbors have chickens that roam freely and visit house to house.  (Which is cool as long as they’re not eating the cats’ food.)  We have room for our dogs to run and play and roll around in the grass.  The cats enjoy hunting squirrels and birds.  Rabbits and deer are spotted on a regular basis throughout the year.  During the summer, we get to enjoy crickets serenading and lightnin’ bugs glowing in the night.  During the winter, the sound of the trains passing less than a block from us to the east echoes even louder through the crisp air.  We have to drive at least 30 miles to get to any type of store or restaurant of size, but it’s a straight shot and no traffic.  Even in the bigger towns closest to us, the biggest traffic jams are laughable compared to driving in Tampa at the least busiest times of day.

There’s really only one major goal for us to achieve.

Our dream is to one day own some of the land next to us to build a farm.  We’d love to have a big farmhouse with a fishing pond, barn, workshop, animals, swimming pond or pool, gardens of vegetables and flowers, a football field for the boys to practice, and lots of woods for ATV’s, dirt bikes, hunting, and camping, a kitchen big enough for cooking large family meals, and a wrap-around porch to take in all the beauty of country living.  We’d love to be able to raise enough food to help our neighbors near and far.  We’d love to rescue animals.  We’d love to help out our little community in every way possible.  This would be a place that our family and friends would always feel welcomed and at home.  Yes, this is a BIG dream.  But, the crazy thing about dreams is you just never know when they may come true.  Until then, we’ll just keep moving forward and working to make it happen.

Hopefully.

One day.

So… what I choose to take with me from 2014 is hope.  Hope that we will continue to thrive.  Hope that our love will continue to grow.  Hope that our generosity is allowed to increase.  Hope that we continue to make friends.  Hope that we’re able to do more and more for our family and those we hold dear.

Hope that we will, one day, make our dream come true.  Together.

 

Thanksgiving 2014

I slacked this year big time.  I did not do my “30 Days Of Thanks”.  I’m a bad girl.  I know.

But, that doesn’t mean that I’m any less thankful for all the blessings I have in my life.

I’m thankful for my family more and more each passing year.  We have adored each other, fought each other, and not spoken to each other… usually all at the same time.  But, we never stop loving each other and appreciating how lucky we are.  Each of them holds such a deep and special place in my heart and I can’t imagine my life without any of them.  Okay, I do fantasize how quiet it might be sometimes, but I’d be lost without them and they know it.

I’m grateful for my friends.  I have some truly special friends that I love as much as my family.  I thank God they have given me the honor of their friendship.  I don’t even want to know where I’d be without their love, support, and encouragement.  I feel so sad for those that have few or no real friends to speak of.  It breaks my heart to think about so many people being lonely… especially during a holiday.

I gripe a lot about where we live and how I dream of us having our own farm and a real HOME.  But, I know we’re lucky to have a place to live at all.  It may not feel like “home”, but it’s a roof over our heads with a place to sleep out of the cold.  And, we’re TOGETHER.

I’m very thankful that our money situation has improved.  We’re not wealthy by any means, but we’re doing it on our own and usually have a little (very little) left over after all the bills are paid.  And, they are paid on time.  I can’t tell you how great that feels!  We were able to save some to have a Christmas this year for the first time in several years.  I’m very, very thankful for that.  We’ve been able to help others out here and there again.  THAT is a most wonderful feeling!  In fact, I believe I am most thankful for that this year than just about anything.

If you get the chance to share your celebration with someone who might be alone, do it!  If you can feed someone who might not have a meal this Thanksgiving, or any day for that matter, do it!  If you find yourself being alone or hungry, please reach out.. whether to us or anyone.  Let’s make each other’s lives better.  More fulfilling.  More enjoyable.  More loving.

Thank you for being in my life.  Thank you for sharing your love with me.  Thank you… for being YOU.

Happy Thanksgiving.