I look around my house and see four very happy and content dogs. Molly is on the big chair cuddled up and snoring. Tank is on one end of the couch on his back with his tongue hanging out and the little girls are on the other end curled up together on the big pillow. Times like this make my heart happy.
In the last few years I have learned to enjoy and cherish the little things. I never thought of myself as a materialistic person but there is nothing like a financial blow to open your eyes wide open. It was not until Jess lost his job that I saw how caught up I was on things that did not really matter.
I am not the type of person that needs the latest designer this or that nor the kind that needs my hair and nails done all the time. I am very low maintenance. My problem was that I loved having what I had and loved the idea of being able to get whatever I wanted when I wanted. We had no problem taking off on the weekends to wherever we wanted and spent money as if there was a never ending supply. I took my pay check and his for granted…bottom line.
I lost my job in 2009 and struggled until 2012 to find another one. I collected unemployment so it was not that big of a blow financially. In October 2011 Jess lost his job of 14 years and man that rocked my world. I remember crying when he called to tell me he had collected his last check. I think I took it harder than he did.
Slowly but surly we had to start selling our things just to pay bills. We started with my car. I played it off as if it did not matter but God knows how many tears I shed in the shower over it. I stayed positive on the outside but was angry and scared on the inside. We went from having to not having in what seemed like overnight. Top Ramen Noodles were the staple food and I hated it!
One day I was sitting right here where I am sitting now and I looked over and saw Jess laying on the couch with Molly laying on his lap and Tank and Gidget laying next to him. I had all 7 of Molly’s puppies as well as Snooki sleeping next to me on this couch and as I looked at them I felt so much happiness it took my breath away. I got up and ran to the bathroom to cry. How could I possibly be so happy in the midst of all that had happened? I was sitting on old couches, walking on pee stained carpet and at that time had 20 bucks until pay day…really?
Somewhere along the road I learned to be content. I had been praying and praying for God to remove any pride and haughtiness from me. I prayed that He show me how to be content with the little things. Here I was living God’s answer to prayer. That moment will forever be etched in my mind.
So tonight I sit here and can not help but feel so thankful that God put us through that trying time…both Jess and I are different people because of it. Financially, we are no where near where we were before, but that is fine with us. We have enough to pay our bills, feed our dogs and enjoy date night once a week. The most important thing is that we have learned how to find joy in the small things…movie night cuddled on the couch together, having lunch in the cafeteria of my job, the half hour it takes us to move the dogs around on the bed just so we can have room to sleep on the very edge and, for me, the content look on my babies faces as they snooze on the couch while mom watches the novela. And doggie kisses. Yup, thank you God for doggie kisses.
Monday, February 4, 2013
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
The Hokey Pokey
I have always been a music lover. I love to sing and I know the power a song has in lifting our spirit and calming our anxieties. The music I listen to is determined by what type of mood I am in. When I am feeling blue and need to empty myself out, I reach for Fred Hammond and sing along until I have let out all my hurt. Other times, I will blast the old school music station and dance around the house.
It is no secret that I sing to my dogs. For most people, that may sound strange, but to dog lovers, like myself, it is just another thing we do to show our babies how much we love them.
Gidget was the first of all my doggies I have ever sung to. It started when she was sick with Parvo and we thought we were going to lose her. On one of her worst nights, I lay her on my chest and sang every Gospel song I could think of. At times, she would open her eyes and look up at me as if to say, “I like that song mommy”, and at others, she would just close her eyes and whimper. Regardless, I knew it was a comfort to her.
I continued to sing to her on occasion. Usually in the evenings, when we were laying in bed, I would pray and then sing her a song or two. I never really thought anything about it, I just felt she enjoyed it and left it at that. Even now, when we go to bed and after I pray, I will sing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star to her until she goes to sleep. Don’t judge me!
Last year when we got Tank, I tried singing to him but he was not interested at all. He is too high strung to sit and listen to me sing. Tank is part Chihuahua so I think he is naturally nervous and has no attention span whatsoever. When he is stressing out, he likes his face rubbed and spoken to. Tank, no doubt, needs a whole lot of gentle words and love…but no songs.
Now Molly, she is a whole different type of dog. She is a very smart girl and extremely demanding when it comes to attention. She does not like to wait for a belly rub and will literally grab your hand to let you know what she wants. She is also very in love with her papa. He belongs to her and she belongs to him. Bottom line. That is a well known fact in our house.
Papa recently started a new job a few weeks ago and his hours are less than ideal for me, but especially for Molly. The first night he was not home at bed time, Molly had a melt down. She ran around the house crying and mooing (her signature cry and the reason her middle name is Moo) in a frenzy looking for her papa. She did not calm down until he came home a few hours later and lay down with her.
Since he began working these odd hours, I have learned to lay down with Molly and the gang until he gets home. Both Molly and Tank will not go to sleep until he gets home, so I talk to Tank and sing to Molly until they are calm enough to either let me sleep or until he gets home. Yes, my babies are spoiled.
I did not know how much power a song has until last night. I was laying in bed with the hounds when Molly reached up with her paw and tapped my mouth. I told her that was not nice and she did it again. Finally she did it a third time and then mooed at the same time. I knew what she wanted. She wanted mama to sing to her. So I grabbed her ear and sang her favorite song…”You put your left ear in, you put your left ear out, you put your left ear in and you shake it all about…you do the hokey pokey and you turn yourself around, that’s what its all about.”
By the time I got to her left paw in, she was snoring. I lay there in awe of how smart Molly is and how much power a simple song, sung with love, has. I looked down at her, and she looked so content. For the first time since papa started this job, she actually slept…we all slept.Who would have thought the Hokey Pokey would have that much power?
It is no secret that I sing to my dogs. For most people, that may sound strange, but to dog lovers, like myself, it is just another thing we do to show our babies how much we love them.
Gidget was the first of all my doggies I have ever sung to. It started when she was sick with Parvo and we thought we were going to lose her. On one of her worst nights, I lay her on my chest and sang every Gospel song I could think of. At times, she would open her eyes and look up at me as if to say, “I like that song mommy”, and at others, she would just close her eyes and whimper. Regardless, I knew it was a comfort to her.
I continued to sing to her on occasion. Usually in the evenings, when we were laying in bed, I would pray and then sing her a song or two. I never really thought anything about it, I just felt she enjoyed it and left it at that. Even now, when we go to bed and after I pray, I will sing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star to her until she goes to sleep. Don’t judge me!
Last year when we got Tank, I tried singing to him but he was not interested at all. He is too high strung to sit and listen to me sing. Tank is part Chihuahua so I think he is naturally nervous and has no attention span whatsoever. When he is stressing out, he likes his face rubbed and spoken to. Tank, no doubt, needs a whole lot of gentle words and love…but no songs.
Now Molly, she is a whole different type of dog. She is a very smart girl and extremely demanding when it comes to attention. She does not like to wait for a belly rub and will literally grab your hand to let you know what she wants. She is also very in love with her papa. He belongs to her and she belongs to him. Bottom line. That is a well known fact in our house.
Papa recently started a new job a few weeks ago and his hours are less than ideal for me, but especially for Molly. The first night he was not home at bed time, Molly had a melt down. She ran around the house crying and mooing (her signature cry and the reason her middle name is Moo) in a frenzy looking for her papa. She did not calm down until he came home a few hours later and lay down with her.
Since he began working these odd hours, I have learned to lay down with Molly and the gang until he gets home. Both Molly and Tank will not go to sleep until he gets home, so I talk to Tank and sing to Molly until they are calm enough to either let me sleep or until he gets home. Yes, my babies are spoiled.
I did not know how much power a song has until last night. I was laying in bed with the hounds when Molly reached up with her paw and tapped my mouth. I told her that was not nice and she did it again. Finally she did it a third time and then mooed at the same time. I knew what she wanted. She wanted mama to sing to her. So I grabbed her ear and sang her favorite song…”You put your left ear in, you put your left ear out, you put your left ear in and you shake it all about…you do the hokey pokey and you turn yourself around, that’s what its all about.”
By the time I got to her left paw in, she was snoring. I lay there in awe of how smart Molly is and how much power a simple song, sung with love, has. I looked down at her, and she looked so content. For the first time since papa started this job, she actually slept…we all slept.Who would have thought the Hokey Pokey would have that much power?
Saturday, February 11, 2012
Being a Girly Girl
I am a sucker for nail polish, make up and all things girly. I have not always been this way. As a matter of fact, when I was a kid I was a tom boy…gasp! I climbed trees, played in the dirt and jumped ramps on my skateboard with the neighborhood boys. It all ended when I was 8 years old and became a “woman”. All of a sudden my mother decided I needed to learn how to be a young lady…that is when this whole girly thing started.
I went from playing toy soldiers in the dirt to tea sets and dolls over night! I hated it! Hair bows and clips replaced the wild hair and nail polish and lip gloss replaced the collection of toy cars I had hidden under my bed. The nights of watching boxing with my dad were now nights of tears and begging to not sleep with rollers in my hair AGAIN. It was sheer and utter torture!
My mother was a plain person. She dressed plainly and was not the type to need to be the center of attention. I do not know if she did it on purpose, if I was maybe her life sized doll, or if she just wanted to impress people, but she had a deep need for me to look good at all times. By the time I was 12 years old she had me wearing foundation because the spider veins on my face were ugly. I hated it.
I do not think my mother intended to make me self conscious. I really believe that she had good intentions and that it was more about her insecurity and wanting people to like me. Unfortunately in the process of doing so, I learned I was not pretty enough to face the world without a mask. I was stuck in that mentality for years.
When I started attending an apostolic church one of the first things I learned was that make up was wrong. I had, and still have, a very hard time with that. For a season, I gave the “mask” up completely but was never really happy with myself as a woman. I did not like looking like every other woman in church and I was miserable. I prayed about it and asked God to take the desire of the make up away. He never did. I am, however, more comfortable without it now. I no longer have the NEED to wear it and can go days without it.
When I started being a “young lady” I did it because I had to obey my mother. Now I love being a girly girl and all that it entails. I love changing the color of my nail polish…red, pink, blue, green, purple, sparkles, glitter…you name it I have it! I am a sucker for bright eye shadow and am learning to wear bright red lipstick in my old age!
I do not wear make up now because I feel the need to hide behind it. I have learned to live with it or without it and I have learned that it does not make me who I am. After years of being told make up was wrong and feeling bad for wearing it anyway, I had to experience something I never thought was possible. A room full of make up and pant wearing, short haired
Christian women ushering in the spirit of God like I had never felt before is what finally opened my eyes to the realization that God does not judge us by our appearance but by the condition of our hearts. Being a girly girl does not separate me from the love of God. As a matter of fact, NOTHING can…Romans 8:38-39 tells me so.
I am free.
John 8:36
I went from playing toy soldiers in the dirt to tea sets and dolls over night! I hated it! Hair bows and clips replaced the wild hair and nail polish and lip gloss replaced the collection of toy cars I had hidden under my bed. The nights of watching boxing with my dad were now nights of tears and begging to not sleep with rollers in my hair AGAIN. It was sheer and utter torture!
My mother was a plain person. She dressed plainly and was not the type to need to be the center of attention. I do not know if she did it on purpose, if I was maybe her life sized doll, or if she just wanted to impress people, but she had a deep need for me to look good at all times. By the time I was 12 years old she had me wearing foundation because the spider veins on my face were ugly. I hated it.
I do not think my mother intended to make me self conscious. I really believe that she had good intentions and that it was more about her insecurity and wanting people to like me. Unfortunately in the process of doing so, I learned I was not pretty enough to face the world without a mask. I was stuck in that mentality for years.
When I started attending an apostolic church one of the first things I learned was that make up was wrong. I had, and still have, a very hard time with that. For a season, I gave the “mask” up completely but was never really happy with myself as a woman. I did not like looking like every other woman in church and I was miserable. I prayed about it and asked God to take the desire of the make up away. He never did. I am, however, more comfortable without it now. I no longer have the NEED to wear it and can go days without it.
When I started being a “young lady” I did it because I had to obey my mother. Now I love being a girly girl and all that it entails. I love changing the color of my nail polish…red, pink, blue, green, purple, sparkles, glitter…you name it I have it! I am a sucker for bright eye shadow and am learning to wear bright red lipstick in my old age!
I do not wear make up now because I feel the need to hide behind it. I have learned to live with it or without it and I have learned that it does not make me who I am. After years of being told make up was wrong and feeling bad for wearing it anyway, I had to experience something I never thought was possible. A room full of make up and pant wearing, short haired
Christian women ushering in the spirit of God like I had never felt before is what finally opened my eyes to the realization that God does not judge us by our appearance but by the condition of our hearts. Being a girly girl does not separate me from the love of God. As a matter of fact, NOTHING can…Romans 8:38-39 tells me so.
I am free.
John 8:36
Sunday, January 15, 2012
Ode To Miss Molly
Your life started out ugly
With abuse and painful wounds
A broken tail a reminder
Of the things you had been through
Yes you are damaged
And not too trusting yet
But that does not stop you
From being a wonderful pet
When I see your happy face
And your wagging broken tail
I am thankful they did not break
Your beautiful spirit as well
You are a smart little girl
Full of energy and love
Happy to run and play
And an occasional belly rub.
You are a fearless dog
Not afraid to stand your ground
You run the show around here
And let all know who is boss
You love to play outside
And have even taught Tank
To not be such a baby
And go outside to bark
I love to see you running
And chasing the hounds
Out the back door
To romp and run around
So little Miss Molly
Don’t you worry about a thing
No one will ever hurt you
You are always safe with me
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Granny Panties
When I was young, I thought 40 was old. Now that I am in my 40’s I still think it’s old…just not that old. My body no longer does what I want it to do and my mind is not as sharp as it use to be. Foods I like I can no longer eat because they don’t sit well with me anymore and if I plan on doing any type of out of the normal activity I better cancel any plans I have afterwards because I will need a few days to recover. In my mind I am still young but can someone tell my body that because it has no idea!
When did I get old? Just yesterday I was swinging on the swings in the back yard with my dad pushing me as high as I could go. The day before that I was skateboarding off of homemade ramps in the middle of the street with the neighborhood boys. The other night my sister and I got into a huge fight because I wanted to watch The Hardy Boys and she wanted to watch M.A.S.H. Now I am a mother and grandmother of two with bills, responsibilities and too many aches and pains. Did we pay the electric bill? When is the phone bill due? We need to go to the grocery store and get dog food. Is there enough milk? Does anyone know where the Advil is? Yikes…I grew up!
Am I really suppose to have all the answers because I don’t! Did I miss a class somewhere in my 20’s or 30’s that was suppose to help me with this time in my life? Did I not get the memo? My body has betrayed me. It can be 30 degrees out and I’m hot! Not a normal hot but a heat that comes from so far inside me I feel as if I am about to boil over! The heater is set at 68 degrees in the bedrooms but I will sleep in the living room with the door open and still be warm! Foods that I enjoyed before will now make me break out in hives, give me heartburn or cause me to stay close to the bathroom! If I get out of bed wrong my back will lock up and I will be in pain for days! Let’s not talk about the wrinkles…oh those darn wrinkles! Where did they come from? When did they sneak up on me? And why did they bring their friends, the gray hairs? It’s just too much!
But you know what? One trip to the mall or a post on Facebook from a young person makes me dance in my granny panties with gratitude for my old age! Have you seen the young people out there? Boys with sagging skinny jeans and hair the covers their face. 12 year old girls with the body of 20 years old walking around the mall half naked with more makeup than face. Young people constantly complaining about how their lives suck because their boyfriend/girlfriend didn’t call them that day or they can’t go out and hang with their friends because they have to do chores. 9 year old with Iphones and Kindles and 500 friends on Facebook. I look around and am disgusted most of the time. What happened to our children? What happened to my generation that would make them allow that type of behavior? Yup, I am old!
I sound like my mother! I never understood her until now. I always said she didn’t understand me and it was true. I think we get to an age where we aren’t suppose to understand. I think we have a certain amount of time to instill morals and values into our children and hope they can some how pull that out of themselves when they get older. My mother use to tell me I should listen to her because she knew what she was saying but I never believed her. I believe her now. I understand her frustration now. It’s funny how we don’t get it until we get older. I wish now I had listened and taken her advice. Maybe it’s just something we need to learn on our own.
So with aches and pains, hot flashes and granny panties I take up my torch as an old lady proudly. I will grumble and complain and never understand this generation. I will stick to foods that agree with me and I will roll my eyes when I see young boys in sagging skinny jeans or girls with words like “Juicy” on the butt of their sweats. I will cringe when I hear disrespectful young ladies and crude young men. I will proudly purchase hair dye, and spend an outrageous amount of money on anit-wrinkle creams. I will not be ashamed to buy Activia or lactose free milk. And I will hold my head high when I forego the sexy lingerie and go straight to the flannel jammies! I am, after all, a well seasoned old lady!
When did I get old? Just yesterday I was swinging on the swings in the back yard with my dad pushing me as high as I could go. The day before that I was skateboarding off of homemade ramps in the middle of the street with the neighborhood boys. The other night my sister and I got into a huge fight because I wanted to watch The Hardy Boys and she wanted to watch M.A.S.H. Now I am a mother and grandmother of two with bills, responsibilities and too many aches and pains. Did we pay the electric bill? When is the phone bill due? We need to go to the grocery store and get dog food. Is there enough milk? Does anyone know where the Advil is? Yikes…I grew up!
Am I really suppose to have all the answers because I don’t! Did I miss a class somewhere in my 20’s or 30’s that was suppose to help me with this time in my life? Did I not get the memo? My body has betrayed me. It can be 30 degrees out and I’m hot! Not a normal hot but a heat that comes from so far inside me I feel as if I am about to boil over! The heater is set at 68 degrees in the bedrooms but I will sleep in the living room with the door open and still be warm! Foods that I enjoyed before will now make me break out in hives, give me heartburn or cause me to stay close to the bathroom! If I get out of bed wrong my back will lock up and I will be in pain for days! Let’s not talk about the wrinkles…oh those darn wrinkles! Where did they come from? When did they sneak up on me? And why did they bring their friends, the gray hairs? It’s just too much!
But you know what? One trip to the mall or a post on Facebook from a young person makes me dance in my granny panties with gratitude for my old age! Have you seen the young people out there? Boys with sagging skinny jeans and hair the covers their face. 12 year old girls with the body of 20 years old walking around the mall half naked with more makeup than face. Young people constantly complaining about how their lives suck because their boyfriend/girlfriend didn’t call them that day or they can’t go out and hang with their friends because they have to do chores. 9 year old with Iphones and Kindles and 500 friends on Facebook. I look around and am disgusted most of the time. What happened to our children? What happened to my generation that would make them allow that type of behavior? Yup, I am old!
I sound like my mother! I never understood her until now. I always said she didn’t understand me and it was true. I think we get to an age where we aren’t suppose to understand. I think we have a certain amount of time to instill morals and values into our children and hope they can some how pull that out of themselves when they get older. My mother use to tell me I should listen to her because she knew what she was saying but I never believed her. I believe her now. I understand her frustration now. It’s funny how we don’t get it until we get older. I wish now I had listened and taken her advice. Maybe it’s just something we need to learn on our own.
So with aches and pains, hot flashes and granny panties I take up my torch as an old lady proudly. I will grumble and complain and never understand this generation. I will stick to foods that agree with me and I will roll my eyes when I see young boys in sagging skinny jeans or girls with words like “Juicy” on the butt of their sweats. I will cringe when I hear disrespectful young ladies and crude young men. I will proudly purchase hair dye, and spend an outrageous amount of money on anit-wrinkle creams. I will not be ashamed to buy Activia or lactose free milk. And I will hold my head high when I forego the sexy lingerie and go straight to the flannel jammies! I am, after all, a well seasoned old lady!
Thursday, November 24, 2011
Twinkies and Strawberry Milk
I have always wanted a son. I have a beautiful daughter but a part of me has always felt a son would have been nice. A few months after my daughter was born I became pregnant again with a boy. For whatever God’s reasons, I never got to hold my baby boy. We named him Steven Ray. I have never forgotten him and as the years go by I can’t help but wonder what kind a man he would have turned out to be. Would he be like his father or me? Who would he look like? Would he be a mommy’s boy? So many unanswered questions.
As my daughter grew up I wished she had a sibling to play with. She had her cousins, Albert and Jessica, but to have a brother or sister would have been nice. She played well alone. She would sit and play with her dolls or play with the dogs or we would read together. As most kids do, she would ask for a brother or sister. Unfortunately it never happened.
When she was 18 years old she met a young man named Devon. We live in Northern California and he lived in Southern California but they communicated over the phone or internet. On one of our trips to Southern California my daughter asked her dad if he would mind picking up Devon so he could spend some time with us. I was not thrilled but there was nothing my husband would not do for TiAnna, so we picked this young man up. We spent some time at Universal City Walk…had a nice dinner and walked around. Like I said before, I was less than thrilled but what could I do once he was already there? After a few hours, we took him home and that was that.
My daughter eventually married and moved away to Texas then to Mexico. She has given me two beautiful grand daughters, Mireya and Natalie. Her life is her own and she lives it to the fullest. I admire her for her zest for life and for living life on her terms. You can say she is my hero. I love my daughter with all my heart and my grand babies are my heart. I am a very proud mom and grandma.
Last year she made contact with Devon via Facebook. I am not sure at what point he and I became online friends, but we did. As time went by I started to see how “together” this young man was. He had grown up. I was in awe of how intelligent and hardworking he was. I guess I assumed he was just another knucklehead when I first met him. At that time my daughter was attracted to less than decent boys so I thought he was the same. Man was I ever wrong!
In the last year I have grown to know and love this young man. There is a strength and determination in him that leaves me in awe. He has overcome so much and has not allowed himself to become bitter or angry at what life has handed him. Devon lived with his grandparents for a while and his mother came in and out of his life. When his grandparents lost their home he ended up living in a park and trying to stay out of trouble. He kept going to school and eventually graduated. He did not want to become a statistic so he had to encourage himself to keep going. This young man lived through hell for years but continued to push forward.
Devon now has his own place, is a college graduate, a Chef, a kick boxer, the owner of one kick ass car and the father of a beautiful little boy. This summer he went to Hawaii for a competition and while he was there he taught himself to swim! I am convinced there is nothing he can not do! He knows what hard work is and is not afraid to try anything! He puts 100% into everything and everyone and expects nothing less in return. Devon strives to succeed in all he does and if he ever fails its not because he did not try. I am bragging aren’t I?
A few months back he asked if he could list me as his mother on Facebook. I cried. I know he does not know about the little boy I lost way back so he could not possibly know how much that one little act on FB meant to me. I love my “I love you mom” messages he leaves me and I enjoy seeing the pictures of him and his little boy. When he went to Hawaii I was like a nervous mom asking him to text me when he landed so I would know he was safe. And like a good son, he did.
I am a very blessed woman and I have so many things to be thankful for. I take nothing for granted and know only too well how temporal some things are. I value each and every person that comes into my life because God placed them there for a reason. Being thankful for my family is a given but this year I have to say I am thankful for my son Devon and the lessons he has taught me in the last year about strength and perseverance...and for Twinkies and strawberry milk! God is good.
As my daughter grew up I wished she had a sibling to play with. She had her cousins, Albert and Jessica, but to have a brother or sister would have been nice. She played well alone. She would sit and play with her dolls or play with the dogs or we would read together. As most kids do, she would ask for a brother or sister. Unfortunately it never happened.
When she was 18 years old she met a young man named Devon. We live in Northern California and he lived in Southern California but they communicated over the phone or internet. On one of our trips to Southern California my daughter asked her dad if he would mind picking up Devon so he could spend some time with us. I was not thrilled but there was nothing my husband would not do for TiAnna, so we picked this young man up. We spent some time at Universal City Walk…had a nice dinner and walked around. Like I said before, I was less than thrilled but what could I do once he was already there? After a few hours, we took him home and that was that.
My daughter eventually married and moved away to Texas then to Mexico. She has given me two beautiful grand daughters, Mireya and Natalie. Her life is her own and she lives it to the fullest. I admire her for her zest for life and for living life on her terms. You can say she is my hero. I love my daughter with all my heart and my grand babies are my heart. I am a very proud mom and grandma.
Last year she made contact with Devon via Facebook. I am not sure at what point he and I became online friends, but we did. As time went by I started to see how “together” this young man was. He had grown up. I was in awe of how intelligent and hardworking he was. I guess I assumed he was just another knucklehead when I first met him. At that time my daughter was attracted to less than decent boys so I thought he was the same. Man was I ever wrong!
In the last year I have grown to know and love this young man. There is a strength and determination in him that leaves me in awe. He has overcome so much and has not allowed himself to become bitter or angry at what life has handed him. Devon lived with his grandparents for a while and his mother came in and out of his life. When his grandparents lost their home he ended up living in a park and trying to stay out of trouble. He kept going to school and eventually graduated. He did not want to become a statistic so he had to encourage himself to keep going. This young man lived through hell for years but continued to push forward.
Devon now has his own place, is a college graduate, a Chef, a kick boxer, the owner of one kick ass car and the father of a beautiful little boy. This summer he went to Hawaii for a competition and while he was there he taught himself to swim! I am convinced there is nothing he can not do! He knows what hard work is and is not afraid to try anything! He puts 100% into everything and everyone and expects nothing less in return. Devon strives to succeed in all he does and if he ever fails its not because he did not try. I am bragging aren’t I?
A few months back he asked if he could list me as his mother on Facebook. I cried. I know he does not know about the little boy I lost way back so he could not possibly know how much that one little act on FB meant to me. I love my “I love you mom” messages he leaves me and I enjoy seeing the pictures of him and his little boy. When he went to Hawaii I was like a nervous mom asking him to text me when he landed so I would know he was safe. And like a good son, he did.
I am a very blessed woman and I have so many things to be thankful for. I take nothing for granted and know only too well how temporal some things are. I value each and every person that comes into my life because God placed them there for a reason. Being thankful for my family is a given but this year I have to say I am thankful for my son Devon and the lessons he has taught me in the last year about strength and perseverance...and for Twinkies and strawberry milk! God is good.
Thursday, November 10, 2011
My Husband
You are my best friend
My life long partner
When I lost faith in love
You came into my life
We have struggled
And at times felt discouraged
But your gentle and calm ways
Always soothed and encouraged me
You have been my rock
My shoulder to cry on
Never once complaining
Only listening and consoling
Through the good and the bad
The ups and the downs
You have been there
Standing strong besides me.
Never once have you complained
About any of my downfalls
You accept me as I am
Imperfections and all
For all of these things
And for many more
I love you
And count myself
Beyond blessed
HAPPY BIRHTDAY TO MY BEST FRIEND…MY HOONYA
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