Letting Go…

I hate to use the words, “I quit”, so today my word choice is “letting go”.  There is a difference you know.

I quitI believe that “quitting” happens when you physically, mentally or emotionally come to the end of yourself and you can no longer bare the discomfort or pain of whatever it is that’s just too much.  There is no way you can possibly live with it, under it or bare it, not one more day, hour, not one more second.  It may be a very real or a very false perception that brought you to that point.  It may be that you’ve grown tired and worn.  Regardless, you are at a place where you feel forced to utter the words, “I quit”.

On the other hand, we have “letting go”.  Letting go of something is a choice.  We let go, not because we are manipulated or coerced letting go balloonsby an individual or forced by a situation.  We’ve been able to set emotions aside and have taken a good hard look at the situation, evaluated its cost and benefits.  We reach the decision to “let go”.

I’ve done a lot of deep thinking recently about many things.  I’ve been in a season of introspection or navel gazing as some call it.  Yes, there are times when we can be too caught up in this type of activity, especially if we’re the type that takes ourselves too seriously, but there are times when navel gazing is very necessary.  This particular navel gazing baby navel gazingseason for me is because of an abuse class that I’ve been involved with.  Navel gazing can bring healing.  It can bring us to a better place, plus it’s always good to get the planks out of my own eyes rather than point out the splinters in the eyes of others.  Navel gazing can help us find and know our true self.  It helps us be authentic.  Real.

Today, in an effort to be authentic to my true self, I make the conscious choice to “let go” of #NaBloPoMo, the National Blog Posting Month challenge.  The NaBloPoMo challenge was to write a blog post every day for the entire month.  While have absolutely no regrets for any of the posts that I’ve written over the last ten days, this past weekend writing wasn’t on my mind, yet I felt forced to write something because of the challenge.  That’s not me.  That’s not how I flow.  Of course, while it’s part of our nature to imagine that the world revolves around us, I’m not so naive to think that there are people out there Letting go quotethat can hardly wait to wake up in the morning so they can read all the golden nuggets I have to post.  When I write, it is because I feel that I have something to say, something someone wants to hear, something that may help someone.  It’s not being true to me or what this blog is all about to just post something for the sake of meeting a challenge.  It’s not fair to you, either.  You deserve better.  So for that reason, I’m choosing to let go.

While I do love to write and writing is something that needs to be practiced like any other skill, for the sake of all of us, when I post it will be because I feel I have something worth saying.  So, I’m sorry #NaBloPoMo.  I have to let go.  Don’t take it personally though.  It’s not you, it’s me.

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Welcoming Fall…

photo (30)Here’s is an easy breezy weekend post to welcome the fall season to Arizona.  Fall is different here in the valley of the sun.  We don’t have the big seasonal transitions that I grew up with in Ohio.  The Palo Verde and palm trees in my yard are in a perpetual state of green, so no raking leaf piles to play in.  It’s almost mid-November and our day time temperatures are still in the upper 80’s, with lows in the mid 60’s at night.  Once you’ve lived here for a while and have adjusted to the summer heat, anything below 70 is cold, so that’s the big shift here.  We are getting photo (24)to enjoy having our windows open for few hours in the morning and sitting on the patio to read and have coffee.  I love being able to be outside!  Even though my trees never reflect the beautiful colors associated with fall, I do have to take a few weeks to bring a little bit of the fall I grew up with, into my house.  So today’s post is my fall tribute.  Come on inside for a minute and welcome to the Spargo’s!

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Happy Birthday “R”!

balloon treeI’m breaking away from the “super proud mom” theme of the past few days, but I can’t quite let go of it completely.  I’m just going to mix it up a little bit, because I’m not done being super proud.   Today’s post will from the perspective of a “super proud wife”.  This won’t become a series though, because the last I checked, I only have one husband to brag on and he deserves to be bragged on!  We’ll stay with the letter theme and name him “R”.  It’s his birthday today, so this post is perfect timing.

I’ve already told you how we met in “My Knight in Shining Armor Story”.  After two previously, really screwed up marriages, I finally got one right.  Some of us just need a bigger learning curve.

“R” met me as a single mom with two kids already.   Having the courage to take on an instant family makes him “point worthy” right off the bat.  The night of our first date was as the Christmas season was approaching and my kids and I were decorating the tree when the doorbell rang.  “R” got to put the angel on the top of the tree before we left for dinner, which has been a tradition ever since.  My kids seemed to be really comfortable around him, too, and he was good with them, so that raised his score.  Yes, after twoscoreboard to many screwed up relationships, I was definitely keeping score.

Not only did “R” inherit a prepackaged deal, he also won the rights to my bill drawer.  I must tell you that this bill drawer had its own organizational system.  I didn’t have to do anything but put the unopened bills in the drawer and they organized themselves with the oldest being on the bottom and the newest on top.  It was a system especially developed to ease my mind and cut down the financial stress of being a single mom.  Whatever was in that drawer became out of sight, therefore, out of mind.   As hard as it is to admit how horrible that system was, imagine the courage it took “R” to accept that drawer when he accepted me.  Yes, give that guy some more points, maybe a high five even!

In the early days of our fast moving courtship, my soon to be husband did everything right.  He always had the right answer, he was super intelligent and seemed to have wisdom beyond his years, he had a good job and he was incredibly talented musically.  As a matter of fact, it was a song that he wrote for me that broke down the high walls around my heart and gained him access.  The fact that he shared the song as we shared a container of ice cream may have helped a little, too.  Ice cream was a staple in my family.

Sad-love-quotes-Trust-it-takes-yearsSpeaking of high walls around my heart, previous abuse and rape meant a lot of emotional baggage was traveling with me on our new journey together.  Trust was difficult for me.  Letting someone get close and really know me was difficult.  “R” would constantly tell me he loved me, but I would just let the words roll off.  If I really believed him, it meant I was opening myself up to be hurt.  He constantly paid me compliments, I mean many times throughout the day even.  My response was always to either ignore what he said or deflect them somehow.  He would stand in front of me, look me in the eye and tell me I was beautiful.  I would look away, never saying thank you, never receiving it.  He never gave up though.  Year after year, he patiently kept doing it all right.  I don’t know how many years it took before I started to listen and believe him, but it was many.  Yeah, more points here!  Big time points!Hugs heal

Our premade family of four grew to become a family of six.  There were some wonderful years in the last 25 and some really horrible, even hellish years.  I’ve talked about some of those times in previous posts, but I’ve just shared what it was like for me, as if I was alone in it all.  “R” was there, too.  He hurt, too, but of course, no one saw that.  Those years didn’t seem to scare “R”.  He didn’t run like others surely would have done.  He stood fast and he held tight.  He remained strong and focused with an amazing ability to keep things under control.

I’m remembering the health crisis I had two years ago.  Not that I remember a lot about the days in ICU, but I do remember when I icuwould wake up occasionally and he would jump up from the spot where he kept vigil.  He would do all he could to make me comfortable or offer help in any way.  How difficult it must have been for him, not just to see his wife in that condition, but still having to carry the responsibility of his job and everything at home during that time.  He didn’t seem to miss a beat in any of it.  I vaguely remember seeing his mom walking into the room once.  I heard her ask him how he was doing.  He said, “I’m just taking care of my wife”.  He certainly has taken care of me.  He’s taken very good care of me!  And the score board numbers keep adding up.

“R” works a very demanding job that doesn’t sleep.  Even if it did sleep, since it’s an international company, it’s always 8:00 to 5:00 somewhere.  They keep him around, they’ve promoted him over the years and the pay checks keep coming in.  All the people that I know that he works with really like him, so I think he must be really good at what he does.  I can’t forget to mention that I’ve been sleeping with a college student for the past few years.  “R” takes classes, too and I’m proud to say he’s a straight A student.

cyclist_superhero_by_night_oval_decalWe’ve had lots of highlights in the past couple years, thanks to “R” getting us involved in this running thing he loves so much.  He’s my marathon man!  We’ve been doing races every couple months and most of them we’ve gotten to travel for.  It’s been so much fun!    He is also big into cycling now and he’s become a mad man clipped on pedals.  I slow him way down when we ride together, but he doesn’t mind because he says he loves when he gets to ride with me.

There is so much more I could say, but I think you get the idea.   He may not be perfect, but he’s still my Mr. album coverRight.  This past summer we were cruising on the Mediterranean.  We had many beautiful nights, but one in particular stands out in my mind.   Picture it with me.  Sitting on our balcony with good wine in hand, sailing over smooth seas, warm air, gentle breeze, full moon reflecting on the water, sound of the water lapping the sides of the ship and “R” is singing to me.  “You’re once, twice, three times a lady…”  Yep, he melted my heart.

Let me tell you this “R”.  While you’ve racked up more points than I could ever count, I’m the one who scored the most when I married you.  You’re once, twice and always my man!  I’m proud of you “R” and I love you with all of my heart!

#NaBlaPoMo

The Second “J”

baby football playerProud mom here again to introduce you to the last, but certainly not least of my offspring.  Today I’m bragging about “JD”!  “JD” was my fourth born and yes, another baby over 9 lbs. delivered by C-section.  He had the most adorable round face with the kind of plump cheeks grandmas, aunts and complete strangers just had to kiss or squeeze.  It was the same with his short chubby legs.  When people would see him, the next remark after expressing how cute he was would almost certainly be something about his future career in football.

“JD” lived the sweet life as a baby, too, getting lots of attention from his oldest siblings.  Even his sixteen month old brother would entertain him by talking to him, making faces and giving him toys or a pacifier when he’d fuss.  He was a very happy baby and almost always smiled and laughed.  It’s funny how some memories can stick in your mind.  I can still see that smiley round face and hear him giggle.  Excuse me for a second.  I just need to stay in this moment a little longer…

There was no, I mean absolutely no stopping “JD” once he learned to crawl and walk.  He was a “no fear” kid!  We lived in a big old farmhousefarm house back then, which made it hard to keep up with him.  In keeping with the football player image, he was not just built with a sturdy frame, he was strong!  He could easily move chairs around and would use whatever means was available to get whatever it was he wanted.  I have a series of pictures I took of him getting into things.  He’s in cabinets, on top of counters and tables, in the kitchen sink and there is one of him standing up on a table taking down my laundry room curtains.  Once, I even found him lying on the top of the five foot chain link fence that was supposed to keep him safe in his outdoor play area.  Of course, he’s laughing and smiling in every picture.  He made it very difficult for me to reflect that firm tone in my voice, indicating when he was doing something he wasn’t supposed to be doing.  I remember thinking often, “It’s a good thing you’re so cute!”  The “no fear” thing had its down side though.  I don’t remember how many emergency room visits we had with “JD”, but there were several.

You know how most babies and small children fall asleep when they ride in a car.  With all the activity involved in his busy day, hide and seekwhen “JD” would stop moving, no matter where he was, he’d be asleep instantly.    That old farm house had a set of stairs in the front and the back of the house, as well as big closets and cabinets throughout.  It was a great house for a game of hide and seek for our family of six.  One evening as we were playing the game, we lost “JD”.  We couldn’t find him anywhere.  All of us became concerned as we searched every nook and cranny of that house, calling for him with no response, not even the sound of his laughter.  We knew he was in there somewhere.  Finally, someone discovered him.  He found the perfect hiding place in a cabinet where linens were stored.  There he was, behind a pile of towels on the back side of a deep shelf, sound asleep.  We can laugh now, but we sure weren’t laughing at the time.  I hope I don’t get in trouble for saying this, but even as an adult, he still falls asleep when he is forced to stop moving and always falls asleep in the car.

“JD” didn’t have the same challenges that my other children faced, but that doesn’t mean that he had it easy as he got older.  I hate to say it, but “JD” probably got pushed to the back burner, so to speak.  He was the easy going, roll with the punches kind of kid who didn’t make noise or stir up trouble.  We had enough noise going on in our family that he kind of got lost in all of it.  It was like when he crawled to the back of the shelf in the cabinet and was lost during our family game; only this game wasn’t so much fun.  He certainly was there and needless to say, he certainly experienced the effects.

“JD” is very sensitive, caring and loving.  He feels emotion very deeply.  He’s much like me in the sense that he doesn’t often voice dogs smilingwhat he’s feeling, but we know something is there.  He’s a great listener, too.  He accepts people as they are and he forgives when they hurt him.  He’s the kid that will come up and hug his mom unexpectedly, for no reason.  I love that by the way, “JD”!  When you meet him you will still find him, always smiling.  His great sense of humor makes him a “life of the party” type person with a wonderful ability to make people laugh.

I didn’t give “JD” the heads up about this post and he doesn’t read my blog, so I won’t get to gushy and risk embarrassing him.  I don’t think he even knows I have been writing about his siblings this week, so this will probably be a surprise to him.  I’ll send him a link though; because “JD” has to hear how incredibly proud I am of him, too!  And “JD”, I love you with all of my heart!

#NaBloPoMo

Brought to You by the Letter “J”

Two kids left to talk about, so two more days for this proud mom to use her bragging rights!  Today is “J”’s day.  Actually, let’s refer to him as “JN”.  You see, we have two “J”’s, so the next one you’ll meet tomorrow.  I also gave “JN” the heads up that I would be talking about him.  He wasn’t worried about what I would say either, so once again, I’ve been privileged with the liberty to share.  His comment was that the last manger scenetime I shared about him, it helped someone and helping people is where “JN’s” heart is at.   That post was titled, “My Grown Up Christmas Gift”, if you care to take a peek.

“JN” is my 3rd born, who also made his way into this world by C-section.  He too, was over 9lbs. at birth.  He was born right after Thanksgiving that year and was introduced to the public in his debut as baby Jesus in our small town church Christmas play.  I waited backstage, holding my breath as the guy playing Joseph held “JN” high over his head for all to see.  It was a proud moment, but did Joseph really have to hold my baby boy up in the air that high???

It was very evident from the beginning that “JN” was a deep thinker.  His gaze was piercing as he watched the people around him.   He would wrinkle up his tiny forehead and stare into people’s eyes, as if he could read their minds and interpret their thoughts.  It was pretty wild!  I would love to have been able to know what was going on in that little brain at the time.

“JN” got lots of attention, too!  He was born ten years after his big brother and sister, who were very happy to have a new baby around.  So when “JN” wanted held or fed, his wishes were granted pretty much immediately.   Thankfully, “JN” was spared from having to endure the drama of child abuse that his older siblings had gone through in my previous marriages.  I’d say he had a pretty sweet life in those early years.

Things began to take a turn though as “JN” was nearing the end of the elementary school days. He started to develop some health issues child in hospitalwhich resulted in lots of doctor visits, biopsies, surgery, medications and hospitalizations.  One of his doctors was a specialist who was writing a text book at the time and because “JN”’s condition was so rare for a child, he was going to refer to his case in his textbook.  I don’t know if his case ever made the cut or not, but I thought it was interesting.  Maybe a student or another child was helped even then by “JN”.  Needless to say, no parent wants to have their child undergo this kind of trauma.  I’m sure “JN” doesn’t have fond memories of this season in his life.

dark-streetThe season that followed doesn’t contain fond memories for “JN” either.  He would be able to tell his story much better than I.  I really only know the story from the parent’s side.  The years that followed were the very painful years of addiction.  “JN” missed all of the normal fun of the teenage years.  Instead he learned the tough existence of drugs, the streets and dark alleyways.  He had times of wanting to be clean and would check in to a rehab program, but it seemed he was caught in a vicious cycle of rehab and relapse.  These were nightmare years for all of us.

Maybe you think I’m a horrible mother for sharing this story with the world.  I might be that in your eyes, but I’m not in the eyes of my son.  I’m a mother who is proud of her son.  He’s clean now and he has been for a year and a half.  He’s been taking college courses, getting good grades, he lives on his own and he’s kept a full time job.  “JN” is intelligent, caring and obviously a fighter.  He’s still that deep thinker, too, and what he thinks most about is helping other people.  He goes to AA meetings, shares his story and sponsors others who are still struggling to be free.

No one knows the depths of the hell he went through in all of this, except for him.  For me to try to explain to you how hard he had to fight Strengthto get to where he is now would be a waste of space, because no matter how descriptive I get with my words, I couldn’t even begin to touch what he’s experienced.  So I’ll leave that story for him to tell.  What I will say is, if you are one who struggles with alcohol or addiction, why not visit one of those AA meetings.  You might run into my “JN”.  He’ll be the first to tell you, there is hope, there is help and there is healing.  You too can be free!

So “JN”, hear your momma loud and clear today, I’m super proud of you and I love you with all of my heart!

“Sometimes you don’t realize your own strength until you come face to face with your greatest weakness.” – Susan Gale

#NaBloPoMo

It’s “C”‘s Turn!

open bookIn keeping with my “super proud mommy” theme these next few days, today’s post is dedicated to “C”.  “C” is my second born and my only daughter.  It’s not her birthday but there is plenty to celebrate!  I gave “C” the heads up that this post was coming today.  She said she wasn’t worried about what I might write.  “My life is an open book”, she said.  While I don’t plan to take advantage of the privilege she granted me with that statement, I will walk that fine line between her privacy and getting downright personal.  The more you understand about the struggle, the more you’ll see what an exceptional woman she has become.

I was still a single mom when “C” came into the world by C-section.  I couldn’t wait for her to be born.  I was so impatient; I even jumped rope to bring on labor.  It was a really stupid thing to do, as I didn’t have a clue about the dangers of doing that at the time, but it worked.  She was my tiniest baby, the only one that came in under the 9 lb. mark on the scale.

I hate to say, “C” didn’t have a very happy babyhood.  She was born with severe food allergies and even what I was eating while I was pregnant had been affecting her.  Yes, as rare as it is, she was even allergic to breast milk.  It took several months, lots of tummy aches, infections, poopy diapers and crying by both of us, to pin point all the things that were making her sick.  It was very evident from the beginning, that even though “C” was far from being able to talk, “C” had a voice and she wasn’t afraid to use it.

It’s a complicated story leading up to my pregnancy with “C”.  I’ve shared some of my soap opera drama in previous posts and I’m sure OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAmore will unfold in the months to come.  Let’s just say, I was really good at weaving a very tangled web.  I guess the more appropriate descriptive word for me would be “stupid”.  What I will share now is that “C” never knew her biological father.  It was my decision for it to be that way.  I had to protect her.  Her biological father was, well… let’s just keep things nice here and say he wasn’t right in his head.  Aside from the fact that he was an addict, alcoholic, a pervert and abusive, he would have been the one who would have done more harm to her than anyone else in her life.  He wanted to have a baby girl, because he wanted to show her what love really was.  The thing is, he didn’t know what love really was.  All he knew was the perversion of love and my little girl didn’t deserve that.  No little girl does.

I did remarry after “C” was born.  She adored that man.  She, like every little girl, wanted that “daddy shaped hole” in her heart to be filled.  Unfortunately, that man was also an abuser.  She was too young to understand or remember when I ended the baby hand with fathermarriage.  All she understood was that the “daddy shaped hole” was empty now and for some reason, I had taken it from her.  Once again, we see how the effects of abuse have a far reaching effect on my children.

In spite of “C” not having the proper loving father image in the early years of her life, her inner strength and tenacity continued to grow and thrive.  “C” acted like a grown up from the early toddler days.  She was the one in control, even in her play with her baby dolls.  She wasn’t satisfied with wearing her own clothes and shoes.  She wanted to wear the clothes and shoes of a big girl, so what was mine became hers, so she thought.  I can still picture her in my mind wearing my bras upside down.

When “C” was eight years old, I remarried for the third time and I’m happy to say that one lasted!  Two more children followed and “C” liked to play mommy.  She will be the first to tell you that she got to babysit her brothers more often than she would have liked, but she did like playing grown up.  Like she did as a baby, she never hesitated to use her voice when it came to telling me what I was doing wrong or what I should be doing with her brothers.  You always knew what she was thinking and where she stood on matters regarding raising kids.

She’s a mommy now with a beautiful teenage daughter of her own.  “C” is a wonderful mommy!  She stays very connected to her daughter.  They spend time talking often and about everything.  It’s the way I wish is would have been between her and I.  I have great respect for her for this ability.  What caused me to shut down emotionally seems to have caused her to flourish.

“C” has continued to deal with challenges in her adult years, but she’s remained that strong woman and you will hear her roar when she flower blossomwants to be heard.   She has been lied to and cheated on and life just hasn’t always been fair, but she hasn’t backed down, nor has she let any circumstance get in her way.  She’s continued to stand strong, continued to be sensitive, expressive and nurturing, continued to blossom.  Best part of it all is that she has continued to love me.

You just have to know, I’m proud of you “C”!  I’m proud to be your mom!  And I love you with all of my heart!

 

#NaBloPoMo

Celebrating “M”

Just have to tell you how proud I am of my kids!  I know that I’m no different than any other parent out there.  We’re all proud!   I’ve decided to voice my feelings and the next four days will be dedicated to each of my kids.  I want it to be recorded for the world to see and hear how much I love them!  Maybe this is something they need to hear in case I’ve somehow not gotten it across to them already.  Even if I have, we all need to be reminded of these things.

As I’ve mentioned in a previous post, “Let the Future Begin”, I’m going through a recovery group for victims of domestic violence and abuse.  Of course, we do a lot of digging around in the dirty muck of the past in this group.  It’s not a pleasant experience, to say the least, but I know the end result will be worth it all.  My past rape and abuse had a very profound effect on me, so naturally it would have an effect on my children as they were growing up.  Without going into all the details of that right now, in the next few days, I will tell you a little about how it affected my children.

birthday cakeToday, we celebrate my firstborn son who is about to have his 36th birthday.   I’ll call him “M”.  I remember when he was born and that overwhelming love that I felt for the first time in my life.  I couldn’t believe that it was possible to even feel an emotion so intensely.  I remember not really liking what I felt, as I knew how vulnerable it made me.  When you love that much, there is the risk of hurting that much and I surely didn’t want to hurt that much.

“M” was born at 9 lbs. 10 oz., by emergency C-section.  This was years ago when they put you under for a c-section, so my first memoriesbaby holding hand are a little fuzzy, but I’ll never forget when they brought him to me for the first time.  The nurse laid him close to my face so my cheek touched his cheek.  I’ll never forget how wonderful that felt.

This morning I’m envisioning him as that little, almost 2 year old boy I loved waking up to every morning.  I was a single mom at this point.  I’d wake up to see his wide eyed grin and hear his little giggle.  He had crawled out of his crib again.  There was no stopping this kid.  He rolled over from the day he was born.  When he was six months old, we lived in an upstairs apartment, so we had to have a gate to guard the steps.  One day he was crawling around and I heard a little laugh at the bottom of the steps.  It was “M”.  He’d managed to wiggle himself under the gate and crawl down the steps backwards, at six months old.  Yes, it really did happen!

“M” was hungry when he woke up.  He’d go to the refrigerator and get whatever food he was in the mood for and lay it on the pillow besideFredrick's Alligator Book me.  It might be a carton of eggs, a pack of bacon or his favorite popsicle.  I remember trying to get ready for my day and he would want to read.  His favorite book was “Fredrick’s Alligator”.  He had that book memorized and he would read it to me, daily and often.  I’ll always remember that book.

This morning I’m envisioning that sweet baby boy covered in white.  All that surrounded him was covered in white.  Gooey greasy white!  Gooey greasy white that is very difficult to get off.  To all Desitin diaper cream users, if you’re smarter than I was, you’ll keep that stuff far out of reach from your kids.

My oldest was abused by his father.  You may have heard it said that what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.  Even though he couldn’t possibly understand what was happening to him at that time, I think what my son experienced helped to develop something good in him.  It helped to develop determination, drive and made him a fighter.

Tennis shoe riding toy

That Tennis Shoe riding toy is down in the left corner. Found it in the Sear’s Wish book from 1979.

I remember one occasion when I was at work and someone was supposed to be watching him.  “M” was four years old at the time.  His little sister was two.  He wanted something and he wanted it bad.  His motivation for wanting it was love.  He wanted to be with his “Gammy” and she had gone to church.  The church was five blocks away and meant crossing a major intersection.  He determined that he was going to get there and he was going to see his “Gammy”, no matter what.  He managed to sneak out of the house with his sister.  I don’t know if he knew she wouldn’t be able to walk that far, but his two year old sister was riding on her plastic tennis shoe riding toy.  I have no clue as to how he knew directions to get to that church, but he managed to guide his sister on her tennis shoe and cross several streets, including the major intersection.  When Gammy walked out of those church doors, there were her grandkids, a little tired, but beaming with pride and joy!  I was horrified when I found out what had happened and thought about what could have happened.  I was furious that they hadn’t been watched and protected like they should have been, but I was stunned to think about what my son had accomplished.  I asked him how he crossed the big street with all the cars.  He said, “I just put up my hand and the cars stopped”.  Wow!  It’s taken years for me to get past the thought of what could have happened that day, but talk about determination and being fearless!

“M” has had to fight many battles through life since that time.  I’m proud of my son and that drive and determination that will continue to keep him going after what he wants.  I can’t wait to see him take hold of his dreams.  I’m proud to know that deep love he holds in his heart will continue to be his motivation as he takes care of his family and helps to raise his girls.   I’m proud of you “M” and I love you with all of my heart!

#NaBloPoMo