To my mom

My mom left my town, my sister, my kids, and most of my life four years ago. She decided to explore a new life for herself. I have kept many of the emotions about this event in the back of my consciousness, to the point even I was not sure how I felt about it. However, the time has come for me to explore how I feel about this event in my life. I feel much better after writing this.

As a child, you were magical. You could make a scrap feel better with a kiss. You could tell what was going on behind your head. The house was clean in a twitch of a nose, and I never ran out of blankets to keep me warm.

As a teenager, I hated you. I was in love and you did not understand. I needed more independence and privacy. I felt like you were smothering me. My world was different then yours.

As an adult, you left. I don’t understand. You packed up your things and left town. You split from everyone like a rebellious teen. Do you hate me? I don’t understand. I wonder if it were not for HIM would you still be here. I watch my peers mourn the death of their parents, and I feel disconnected. Do you think you can just call every once in awhile and it makes it ok? Promises of visiting have been met with nothing. Would I even recognize you if I saw you? Even as an adult, four years is a long time. Even when I was sick, you did not come. I could not walk. I could not talk. It was not you that took care of me. It was my mother-in-law. She had to bathe me; she had to help me to the bathroom. She held me close, and when I could talk she listened to my struggles. As grateful as I was, I could not stop thinking about you. You should have been there. How dare you choose to be THERE and not here. Wherever there was? Was it Indiana or Kentucky? Do you even remember? I sat in a hospital room looking at the cornfields of Illinois.

What about all the problems with my son? They don’t know what is going on with him. His behavior is unique, hard to control and impossible to predict. I cannot be magical. He does not believe in it. His world is dark, and everything makes him angry. I wish I could help. I don’t know how. Things are hard, and where are you! It is not as you don’t know what is going on. You call. I tell, and still you don’t show.

A phone call is not enough. A phone call does not make you a mom, a grandmother or a better person.

I was raised not to hate. I was raised to say please, thank you, and excuse me. A parent’s job is never done.

Excuse me, will you please come home? I promise to thank you.

Southern story idea

This is just a little bit a story idea I had last night. It is not a lot, and I am not even sure I will finish it. It nagged at my brain for so long that I just couldn't move on until I typed it down.


She stared at the phone. It was time to make that phone call. She had practiced this over and over for years. Sometimes she had even got the courage to let it ring, but she would hang up.  She just never knew how to say what she needed to say. It had been five years since she heard that voice, the voice. His voice left her weak during that summer they had shared together.

He was going to be mad, who could blame him. With everything she had to tell him, it would be no wonder if he picked up and then hung up on her after she got everything out. This is if she could actually get it all out. What would she say. How would she say it. Where did she start. Just blurting out the fact that they had made a baby together during the hot summer when she turned twenty-one was not actually the easiest thing to say.

However, that hot summer was all she could ever think about. Of course it helped to have a living, breathing mix of the love the entwined that summer. Whenever she looked at her little baby sleeping she remembered the hot summers and long nights.

So there she was in need to make the phone call she had been practicing for a long time. This was not about her, or him, but about the little girl that slept in the next room. The time had come and she had to call him and tell him about his sweet daughter. About the daughter that looked just like him and had sky blue eyes that reminded her of the sky they so often loved underneath.  

Have a heart for Kloey

Have a heart for Kloey

If you are near or far
The message is the same
Wishing on every star
We have the same aim

Have a heart for Kloey

Away from home
She has to be
Although never alone
And often very smiley

Have a heart for Kloey

Here miles apart
Friends and family wait
To here about the heart
That will be given by fate

Have a heart for Kloey

Together with the same desire
We live our lives each day
For this girl we admire
Knowing someday she will be okay

Have a heart for Kloey