It’s Okay

Eyes still closed, but conscious of the activity beyond my eyelids

The rustling of the bedroom and bathroom drawers awakens my mind

One must go, but one can stay

I tear my body out of the warm, cozy bed trying to hold on to me so tightly 

I ask her to stay more than once fantasizing about “us” time. 

It’s obvious her thoughts are in the midst of a wrestling match

I don’t barrage her with enticing offers, even though I secretly want to

The match concludes 

A trip with dad to her sister’s soccer training lesson raises its hand 

I surrender and retreat to my bed that longs for me

She’s a sucker for sports…I understand 

I still long for her company more than I can find comfort from my bed

It’s okay though

We are teaching her independence, allowing her choice, and providing practice for decision-making 

It’s about her growth, not about me

But…I still wish she stayed

Equals

Bedtime = HGTV time

HGTV time = House Hunters International 

House Hunters International = Vacation ideas

Vacation Ideas = Visiting new places

Visiting new places = More experiences 

More experiences = Fun

Fun = Happy Family

The Choice of Kindness

I’M SORRY!!
I’M SO SO SORRY!!!
Putting my hand up,
Also gesturing my remorse.
She can’t hear me,
But she must see…
The horrified and panicked look on my face.

Without any hesitancy,
She raises her hand.
She nods and reassures me,
With a gentle smile.
She graces me with mercy.
So understanding, so kind.

She looks to be about my age.
Her morning rat-race –
Probably just as hectic as mine.
I don’t know her story,
Nor has she read my book.
It’s irrelevant.
She decided to grant me compassion today.

I wanted to stop,
To get out of my car,
To give her a hug,
And express my gratitude.
There was no time,
I was forced to exit the parking lot.
She was on her way to her destination.
But I think she knew.
She knew just by her reaction,
The appreciation I felt.

Emotions came flooding.
My eyes welled-up quickly.
A perfect combination,
Between nerves and appreciation.
She is probably a mom,
Just like me.
Who knows what she is battling,
Because we are all fighting something.
But…she chose kindness.

She gave me a break.
She gave me a pass.
She reminded me.
Life is so much more,
More than a constant race.
It’s about who we are,
How we treat others.
Be benevolent in your acts.
Have sympathy and empathy.
Make someone’s day.
Give her a break.
Give her a pass.
Remind her.

Too Sleepy

I have to write?
Oh no, not tonight!

I am much too sleepy,
And about to be weepy.

Not a thing in mind,
I’m in a big bind.

It’s only day two,
What’s this writer to do?

My brain is at rest,
So this is my best.

I’m struggling for sure,
There must be a cure.

Oh wait, could that be my bed I hear?
It must know my time is near.

Hopefully tomorrow won’t bring the same,
With some sleep I should be on my game.

Try me out another day,
I’m sure I’ll have much more to say.

1st of the Month

“It’s the 1st of the month, wake up, wake up, wake up…”

The moment my eyes opened this morning, I recalled it was the 1st of the month. The first thing on my mind was that it was the first day of the writing challenge, but immediately thereafter, Bone Thugs-n-Harmony began singing to me, their ever-popular song, “1st of the Month.”

Ever-popular? Okay, maybe not, but it was to my “posse.” My posse – my college friends – the five of them, plus me, that shared so many good times and fond memories.

Those were the days…

that now seem as if they were so simple.

when we thought “we were it.” We were so “cool”…rapping and belting it out to Bone Thugs-n-Harmony.

when we dreamed about who we would become, wondered where we would live, and how our lives would play out.

that allowed us the time to create such amazing memories and most importantly friendships to last a lifetime.

that should remind me to slow down, take it in, and smell the roses because time passes much too quickly.

“It’s the 1st of the month, wake up, wake up, wake up…” Time to text the “posse” and let them know they are on my mind.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Chance

She’s simply stunning…every last bit of her! Every curve, every foot, every inch. With perfect posture she exudes confidence. With such elegance and style on the outside, I can’t imagine she is any less amazing on the inside. Age seems to only intensify her beauty. I am drawn to her perfection, from top to bottom. I have been admiring her from afar for at least 8 years now. My eyes are glued to her each time we are within sight of one another, and I cannot help thinking about meeting her one day. I wonder if she realizes the love I have for her even though we have never been introduced. Does she understand the pangs of jealousy I experience? I know, I just know she would love me if we had the chance to be united. How could she not when I have nothing but adoration for her?

After many years of appreciation for her, marveling at her perfection, and dreaming about our first encounter with one another, I received an email from her. I did not even know she was aware of my existence, yet she emailed ME. I was not so naive to think I was the only one that received the email, yet I was still included. Perhaps she saw me frequently sneaking peeks. Maybe she sought me out as someone she wanted to get to know at some point in her life? Hard to believe, but just maybe.

I did not waste a single second. She beckoned me and I was going to respond, and respond promptly. Or…so I thought. It turned out that I was a day late. Others received the email the day prior and sought her attention first.

A contract was accepted for asking price the same day she hit the market. She will now belong to someone else. Are they as captivated by her stature and magnificence? Do they have an abundance of appreciation for her like I do? Will they honor and respect her like I would? Only time will tell.

My heart was crushed. I never thought I really had a chance. But…the chance…there it was in black and white…it presented itself and I couldn’t be more thrilled. Then, BAM…I was knocked out before I even had a chance to enter the ring. However, I will not stop marveling at her exquisiteness and I will continue to have hope that someday she will be mine.

Oh No You Didn’t

If you know me you know just how competitive I am. Recently, I have been talking about my desire to get involved in some type of team sport with others my age. I am not necessarily skilled at one particular sport, but I will certainly try my best and play competitively. I was hoping to find others, who are also athletic but not collegiate players, to form a team with the goals of getting back into shape, playing hard, and having fun.

An opportunity arises. My husband informs me that the assistant coach (semi-pro soccer player) for my daughter’s soccer team is forming a co-ed, 30 and under soccer team and he is looking for players. I responded, “It is going to be too competitive.” My 12-year old daughter happened to be within earshot of the conversation. She piped in and argued, “I don’t see what the problem is. Are you saying you are not competitive?”

Wow! Both my husband and I began laughing immediately. It’s funny how your kids know you so well. After listening to me from the sidelines for the last 6 years or so, she wasn’t going to just let that one go. I love it! Her personality is starting to bloom and it’s showing a good sense of humor – somewhat dry – but that makes it all the funnier. Thanks for the laugh, Leah!

We All Deserve To Be Our Best Selves

It was a normal drive there. I asked about her day and shared my happenings. She is my thinker – always wondering, analyzing, and asking for clarification – so the questions flowed. At the end of our short 8 minute ride we exited the car, entered the building, hopped a ride in the elevator, and arrived on the second floor.

In the 7 or so steps from the elevator to our destination something changed, as it does each time. It’s just different, we’re different. It’s sort of like a preparation. We quiet down, or at least I do, and await for what/who we may encounter. With caution we open the door. Sometimes it’s a ghost town and other times there may be a few people waiting. Nonetheless, it’s often silent with the exception of the white noise used to create a sound barrier.

Yesterday there was one person waiting. She appeared to be a mom. Reading a magazine, she never acknowledged us as we entered. This is not abnormal in this familiar room. Nobody tends to talk, but is either buried in a book, in a magazine, or is glued to his/her phone. I am guilty too. But why? Normally I talk to anyone who will listen.

As time passed, the mom was called back and disappeared . Shortly thereafter, I am called back. Me? I wasn’t expecting that. I obliged and divulged all the recent issues my little one has been experiencing with her anxiety. The conversation gave me hope. I hate when she suffers.

The majority of the appointment was consumed by our conversation, but there was still 15 minutes left and I knew my little one could use to empty that mind of hers today. So, I re-entered the waiting room only to find some different faces. A dad and his daughter were passing the time by reading. The little girl gave me a once over. I said “hi.” I then began reading myself. The little girl was eventually called back and her dad followed. In just a few minutes he returned.

I wanted to talk to him and give some support. But…maybe he is not interested in conversation, maybe he doesn’t need support, maybe he is embarrassed, maybe he just wants to explore the internet or email as he stares at his screen. My mind continued to go around in circles…just say something, maybe he needs it today. No, keep your mouth shut. But people need to talk about this – it’s a good thing. He’s going to think you are nuts. Oh so what – add him to the list. “Can I ask how old your daughter is?” He replies, “She’s 6.” “Well good for you for brining her here. I bring my daughter so she can learn some tools to deal with her issues now so she is not dealing with them when she is 18.”

The kind man continued the conversation speaking of the importance of counseling and how he makes it a priority to be there nearly every week. I was happy I spoke up and was enlightened by his perspective. He was no longer the quiet stranger distracted by his phone, but another parent who deeply cares about the well-being of his daughter. We spoke of the amazing benefits of our children speaking to other adults. We were not ashamed nor embarrassed. We were proud of our children for being brave and we know they will be better off for it.

We all deserve to be our best selves.

The “Signs” of Spring

How could one not be excited by the signs of spring?

Brighter days

Warmer weather

Fresh air

Rain showers

Budding trees and flowers

Chirping birds

Giddy children

While all the signs of spring bring a smile to my face and add some pep to my step, I am most excited by a different “sign” of spring.

You know, the sign that stands approximately four to five feet tall indicating a move.

Yes – the FOR SALE sign that decorates lawns, most prevalent in the spring.

I am not necessarily looking for a change in residences, but on the other hand, I am not against it either.

Most of all, I just enjoy viewing homes and dreaming of the possibilities.

Oh, the signs of spring!

For sale

 

 

 

 

 

 

Feelings

I served as a witness today…a witness of an amazing interaction.

The teller sensed the customer’s frustration and perceived anger. Instead of ignoring it, she happily greeted the customer and told her to take a seat. With a bit of an attitude the customer refused, and stated she had been sitting all day. Many would have allowed the conversation to die and feel put-off. But, not this considerate teller. She had a much larger job today in addition to managing monetary transactions. The teller continued the conversation – demonstrating compassion and genuine care. She acknowledged the customer’s perceived unhappiness. A conversation ensued. Little by little I witnessed the customer’s demeanor change. Shoulders dropped. The earpiece was removed. She may have even shed a bit of a smile. I am positive she left with a brighter outlook. This occurred all because the teller acknowledged the customer’s feelings.

It didn’t take any more time than the transaction would have taken anyway.

It didn’t take too much effort.

It didn’t cost a thing.

It did make a difference in at least 3 people in the room – the teller, the customer, and me!

I served as a witness today…a witness of an amazing interaction.

 

(And…yes, of course I told the teller she is fantastic, expressed what a difference she made today, and asked for her boss’ 411.J)