Saturday, April 23, 2016

Spine Poetry

April is poetry month and a work challenge was to create a poetry out of book titles,,,

Sunday, October 18, 2015

Just for a few laughs...

Can you do this?

Exploding cheeks

Laughing so hard

photobombing already! We were supposed to be in the picture together!
My daughter Cassidy (Leyla's mommy), Leyla, and me

Sunday, August 23, 2015

What is the cost?

It wasn't what I'd thought life would be like, watching my daughter lying in the hospital room while she mumbles that she wants to go home or she loves her dad. My nose is plugged with the emotion I've bottled up, the occasional tear drifting down only from happenstance rather than emotion. The bars on her bed are the only thing keeping me from curling up on the bed next to her and finally allowing the tears to flow.

"Hey Mom" Her voice is almost a whisper. "what are you doing here?"

"I came to make sure you were okay, of course, silly." I brush back the hair from her forehead and give her a small kiss.

"Oh I'm fine." She reaches out to me with her mummy wrapped arm and grabs my hand. "jusss fine. I'm just sooooo tired. I don't know what they gave me but I could sleeeee----p alllll....."

"You sleep. I'm going to sit here for a while and make sure you're okay. I will have to leave in a while to go back to work but I wanted to come see you and make sure you were okay."

"Thank you mommy. I love you."

"I love you too hon." I sit back to watch her sleep thinking she would slip into quiet unconsciousness but her head tosses back and forth as she moved into immediate restless delusion.

"Don't call me a liar. I'm not" She is talking loudly but the dream is her companion. "Hit. Don't hit..."

"He's gone, hon" Her eyes are still closed, involved in the conversation of her nightmare. "Shhhh." I console with little result. "I love you. Just relax."

The nurse peeps in and notes that the doctor will want to see her alone in a few moments to check vitals, says her condition is stable, alcohol levels are low enough that she is out of danger and the cuts on her arm were stitched up and she'd have scars but she could probably be released under parent supervision later today when she is sober enough. I'm skeptical but relieved.

I lean back into the chair, trying to relax but the muscles are taut with anxiety and apprehension. Too much, Too many times. Too hard to bear. I'd made mistakes. I know I did. I made mistakes that couldn't be unraveled but it's too much to think that it started with that day sitting on that doorstep in my wedding dress, wondering, dreading, but telling myself it was the Right thing to do. It was What the Church Wanted. It was what the Parents Wanted. It was what my Baby needed. It was what GOD wanted. It was what was RIGHT. And as a result it would all work out. right? RIGHT????

IT would right????????  


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