In the Garden...

I had laid there, unable to respond to anything around me. My family was there. I fought to breathe, but found I was unable to do it.

I gasped for air. It seemed to be the signal they all needed to know my time was here.

One daughter called for another, and she called for another.

They were scared.

I wasn't.

I could see what was beyond anything they could ever imagine.

My breathing became very labored. I fought for each breath with all my might, although I couldn't understand why.

Beauty like none could imagine laid before me.

Maybe I breathed for them - those that surrounded me. I just don't know.

One daughter grabbed my hand, but I couldn't help her hold it. Her hand slid down my wrist, resting at my pulse point. She seemed happy enough with that, and honestly, I was, too.

I gasped for a breath, and they began to sing...

"I come to the garden alone;"

(The song that had somehow kept me going since I had gotten so sick.)

"While the dew is still on the roses;"

(I see tears of understanding. I'm leaving. I hope they won't hurt too much.)

"And the voice I hear, falling on my ear;"

(That voice says, "Joe. Well done. Come home."

"The Son of God discloses;"

(He was calling for me. I hope they understood that.)

"And, He walks with me, and He talks with me;"

(I cannot wait to walk and talk with Him)

"And, He tells me I am His own."

(I know now, if I ever had doubt, I am, indeed, His own. The angels are singing. I am going home.)

"And, the joy we share as we tarry there;"

(My mother! I see my mother! She's calling to me! Oh, Mama, you are so beautiful! I love you!)

"None other has ever known."

(I fly away from the room, all the while, watching them. I wave to my great grandbaby, Tyler, on my way. He sees me. He smiles. I hurt for them, but not enough that I will stay. My God has called me. I am ready to go Home.)

And, just like before I had found them all those years ago, there was my family. Alone but together, trying to live life without me.

I don't know about those days, but I do remember about the day I arrived.

If you have a minute, sit right down. I want to tell you a story...

Lift Me Up...

This year, of all years, Mothers Day has a completely different meaning in my life. In September, my child's blood put life into a tiny, little being in this world.

I'd like to tell you that on the day my grandchild was born the earth moved, the sun came out and everything was suddenly perfect.

Ashamed, I tell you it didn't happen like that. As a matter of a fact, it couldn't have been farther from that.

I spent most of the year 2010 coming up with every reason in the world that my child was NOT going to be a father: could NOT be a father...

And, God forgive me, blaming the one who carried that beautiful little creature in her womb.

I didn't want any part of it, and I made every effort to let her know just that.

My friends, I shed tears as I admit that.

There are no words or anything I can ever do to change that. I can never undo it. I can never take it back. I missed the first six months of that completely innocent baby's life because of foolish pride and fear.

It will forever haunt me that I spent nine months purposefully making a scared, pregnant teenage girl miserable.

And, then, as God usually does, a miracle happened...

In April, a path opened up, and on an incredibly hot Louisiana spring afternoon, I waited on a bench at the zoo to meet my granddaughter for the first time.

It was to also be the first time I had seen her mother since before the signs of her pregnancy even began to show on her tiny frame.

Scared, pensive and hopeful, I turned to see them waiting at the entrance, and I began to move as quickly as I could toward them.

And, there, in the middle of the Alexandria Zoo, people, I learned about grace...

And being gracious...

And about forgiveness.

I didn't see the girl my son once dated...

The girl I blamed for each of his shortcomings since the day he met her...

I saw a terrified, overly-exhausted, but ready to start over fresh little girl who was now a mother.

And, I might add, doing a great job at it.

Oh, my friends, I cannot even express to you how proud I am of her, how unbelievable grateful I am to her, how amazed I am by her!

Without even a question, she forgave me...

For everything I had put her through.

I truly do not believe I have ever experienced human forgiveness on that level.

I don't believe I can even articulate how she has moved me.

I think of her being alone, knowing I was not championing her, and I am so ashamed. I cannot imagine how that made her feel. I can never make up for it.

I did that. Me. The one who demands all human beings be treated with dignity and respect refused that right to a young girl who had to feel as though it was she versus the world. The one person I probably owed it to most. And I made the choice to refuse her.

She deserves far better than I have ever given her, and yet, she's taught me about forgiveness without stipulations.

She and I are working toward building a solid foundation that will last a lifetime.

And, this time, I will get it right.

I will be her cheering squad.

I will respect her.

I will be on her side.

I will protect her.

I will encourage her.

I will tell her she's doing right.

Because she deserves that...

And so much more.

Great Mothers are those who work tirelessly to make a better way for their children. She is one of those mothers. It is truly my honor to share this journey with her.

So, sweet girl, Happy First Mothers Day. I am so very proud of you. Thank you for teaching me about life. Thank you for extending your hand in friendship to me.

Chances are we will probably disagree again, but just know I will always respect your right to be the mother of your child and I will always respect your choices. This time, if we disagree, we will do it in love, never to repeat our past. I look forward to our future.

I hope you know I am here for you and will always lift you up.

True Colors...

I can still smell the summer air and feel the sun on my shoulders as we all enjoyed being young, trying hard to impress one another with our cartwheels, back walk-overs and how well we could get our legs down into the grass into a perfect split.

I wasn't as good as the rest of them.

People, I was not blessed with athleticism...

I could do it...

I just didn't look good doing it.

And, then there was Melissa.

She was about as big as a minute and could leap through the air with the most amazing grace that any of us had ever seen. Even at our tender ages, we all knew Melissa had something special.

She could start a sprint at one side of the yard and never stop flipping until she reached the other side, and she executed it perfectly.

Being competitive as we all were and as talented as she was, you'd think she'd have bragged on how much better she was than we, but not Melissa...

That tiny bit of a girl would get in that yard and lift us and instruct us, telling us exactly what to do next so that we could be as graceful as she.

But, you see, those were her true colors...

Ever-encouraging;

Ever-teaching;

Ever-inspiring.

As we grew into teenagers, we did what most of us all do and after high school, we really lost track of one another.

Naturally, I'd hear a bit here and a bit there about her, her life and her children, but I honestly couldn't tell you the last time I saw her.

Although I don't know her story, I know her life held some challenges for her, and as Melissa always seemed to do, she overcame...

And, she didn't do it the normal way...

She did it her way...

Over the top...

Bigger and better...

Encouraging everyone she met, lifting them and instructing them, telling them exactly what to do next so that they could be as graceful as she.

She made peace with her God and it was obvious in everything she did and every person she touched.

Melissa knew God, and she knew God in a mighty way.

This world lost Melissa on Sunday.

Since then, I've thought and thought and thought of her and one word alone resonates with me...

Inspiring.

I remember her, tiny as she was, lifting my legs into the air (and struggling to get her arms high enough to get to my feet) and saying, "Now, point your toes, bend your legs just a little and go on over."

I think of her, and the vision of her so effortlessly flipping herself into the air is what I see.

Beautiful...

Graceful...

Carefree.

She didn't want to keep what she had just for herself. She wanted to share it.

I know that today she sits in the lap of God.

I know that, in spite of everything, my friend has heard the words, "Well done."

And, it was well done, Melissa.

It was done Melissa-style...

Ever-encouraging;

Ever-teaching;

Ever-inspiring.

Over the top.

Bigger and better.

And, with absolute humility.

Because those were your true colors.

They are beautiful.

Like the rainbow.

And I Won't Let Go...

I held my breath and dialed the number, counting the rings...

One...

I dreaded this call.

Two...

I hated what I was about to be forced to say.

Three...

I hated to be the messenger that morning.

The raspy "hello" coming through the receiver told me that my beloved childhood friend already knew what I was calling to say.

He and I sat there talking, processing what he was feeling, grieving the loss of his dad.

Familial relationships are, quite honestly, the most cruel and complex relationships we will ever have. The people who are supposed to never turn their back on us sometimes do, and the realization that this time the clock can't be turned back is absolute torture, even if you are blameless, and it is cruel.

If I could carry him in my pocket where the world couldn't touch him, I promise you, I'd do it.

But I can't do that.

So, instead, I just listened to him and let him feel what he was feeling.

I will stand in the gap for him. He would do it for me.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


"It's just stuff, honey. It's going to be alright," I whispered in his ear as I hugged him.

"It's just stuff," he repeated back, as he stared at nothing in particular somewhere in the distance. He didn't believe me, but somehow, I think he thought if he said it, it would make him believe.

His eyes were as tired as I had ever seen them, and they held a secret pain that I hadn't seen there in quite a long time.

I understood that look.

I understand that feeling.

I've been there, standing in what was once my home that somehow, in a matter of just a few hours, suddenly feels oddly foreign. It's still your house, but you realize the dynamic of how home is now defined has changed, and as much as we believe we're ready for it, we are not.

God didn't ordain marriage that way, and you are never more accutely aware of that fact than you are in that particular second.

If I could carry him in my pocket where the world couldn't touch him, I promise you, I'd do it.

But I can't do that.

So, instead, I just held him and let him feel what he was feeling.

I will stand in the gap for him. He would do it for me.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


I walked in the house and went to look for her. I found her in the living room, working diligently.

"It's really not that bad," I said to her.

She looked up at me, "No, it's not, but it's got Dad in knots, and I've got to fix it. I can't let my dad feel this way."

As we went about the business of organizing what needed to be done, I looked at her...

Such a beautiful young woman, who for that instant, wasn't worried about anything except her dad and righting his world.

At that second, a respect for her grew within me that I don't think could ever be challenged. She has character. And it runs deep. And it's very rare to find in one so young.

I was honored. It was as if I was granted priviledge to witness her grow right before my eyes.

I knew what she was feeling. I, too, would move heaven and earth to protect my dad.

If she could carry him in her pocket where the world couldn't touch him, I promise you, she'd do it.

But she can't do that.

So, instead, she just did what she could do and let him feel what he was feeling.

She will stand in the gap for him. He has done it for her.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Painfully aware of the human condition this week and how fragile we truly are, I saw love in action, and even though the pain was as real as anything could possibly be, love was even moreso.

We all need to know someone is on our side...

That someone cares...

That we are not alone.

That someone stands by us...

And they won't let go.

My hope for us all, my friends, is that none of us are ever alone, and that as long as we live, someone is there to stand in the gap for us.

Hold the ones you love tightly.

And, don't let go.

Hello World...

Ah! Blessed, beautiful springtime is in the air and teasing me with those tiny glimpses into what it's going to be like after winter finally admits defeat and succumbs to spring's promise of something new to come, traveling back to its cave, falling in to a deep slumber until December.

I love spring.

I love the smell of fresh air and flowers and freshly mowed grass.

God Himself wraps his arms around me through the warm sunshine on my body and whispers, "Everything is going to be alright, kid. Just sit back and trust Me. Watch what I'm about to do. You'll see. Something good is coming and it is just for you."

The world is new again...

Inviting us all, if only for a bit, to just relish in the glory of living...

And to understand what an honor it is to be here...

To be given another chance...

Another tomorrow...

Another promise.

When you least expect it.

In the least likely of places.

In the least likely way.

Through a most unexpected source.

Hello world.

How ya' been?

Good to see you, my old friend.

Realizing that every zig and zag and fork in life's road; every tear, every tragedy, every triumph...

Brought me here.

And, here is a very, very good place to be.

On the surface, "here" should be in shambles...

But inside, "here" is about as close to perfect as I have ever known.

Sunday afternoon I was thinking these exact thoughts when he said, "I like this song," and reached out to turn the radio up a little bit.

No words were spoken between us as we both listened...

Hello world.

How ya' been.

Good to see you, my old friend.

A tear formed in my eye, as I realized I was experiencing my very own moment expressed in the song, as I took in the lyrics.

When it finished, I looked over and told him, "I like it, too," hoping he wouldn't see the shimmer of the tear in my eye.

He smiled at me.

I smiled back.

Hello world.

How ya been?

Good to see you, my old friend.

Sometimes, maybe spring's a time to erase past hurts and forgive.

Just maybe some are worth a second chance.

And, maybe - just maybe - this time when we forgive, we have to remember to forget...

Because others' slates deserve to be wiped as clean as ours.

And, as you're drinking in that moment, thinking that God is a Masterful and Wondrous Creator, orchestrating everything to show you what He's been saying all along...

You'll get to giggle a little along the way as the person with whom you are sharing this incredible moment that you know, without doubt, you are going to wrap up and place in your heart from this day forward and cherish it forever...

This moment...

This day...

This look between you...

When you think life just couldn't get any better than it is right now.

He'll look over at you and ask you this question - the one you never expected him to ask:

"What's this song about, anyway?"

Hello world.

How ya' been?

Good to see you, my old friend.

Sometimes I feel, cold as steel.

And broken like I'm never gonna heal.

I see a light.

A little grace.

And a little faith unfurl.

Hello world.

I Forgot...

We stood there in my mother's driveway for what seemed forever. I hadn't seen him in weeks, and honestly, the days between our separation seemed to be just what I needed to remind me that I wasn't built for this...

That I didn't care...

That nothing could touch me.

In a moment of non-thinking, I told him, "You smell so good," as my face cradled into his neck and I breathed his very essence.

"I've been at work all day," he mumbled into my ear.

Without thinking, I spoke aloud my thought, "I know. It smells like you, and I love that."

Dammit.

I had revealed my cards before I even realized it.

He had me, and he knew it. From there, I'd just have to trust him with my emotions.

I hated that part. I always have. I have never wanted anyone to know they had any emotional power over me whatsoever, and there I was, as if wrapping it in pretty paper and putting a ginormous ribbon around it.

What he would do from it from there was up to him, and I was forced to just stand there, my face buried in his chest until he spoke...

Because as we all know, the first to speak is the first loser.

And, he said...

Nothing.

For minutes, he said nothing.

Unable to take it any longer, I spoke up, "So, do you want to stand here forever like this, or are you going to let me go?"

I heard the words, "I don't know, but for right now, this is perfect."

I said nothing, but only stood there in his arms until his grip loosened.

I had been here before...

The absolute reality of life's reality hitting me slam in the face to the point that I was speechless.

I was so very aware...

I had given my power away...

And, I was his.

He could do with me what he wanted, and I would stand there and take it.

He had me.

He knew it, and I knew it.

I am so very, very grateful he treated my words with the respect they deserved.

It was him...

Nothing else. Just...him...

That had me wrangling for words.

For all words that were spoken, so many more had been unspoken, and the heaviness of the air admitted that truth.

So, where from here?

I don't know...

No clue.

But, I'll ride, because he drives...

And, at long last, I trust him.

And for as much as I've worked to prove him not worth my trust, he has proved that he actually is.

So, for now until forever, no matter what, I'll remember the exact moment that, for the third time in my lifetime, I realized I was in love...

And, I will hold it close to my heart, and even though it may fall apart tomorrow, I will hold that moment close, and I will never, ever forget...

That I forgot to tell you I loved you.

The Need to Be...

Oh, the words have been within me, begging to get out, but I've had to hush them. So garbled and beyond recognition to even me, to spill them out would have been foreign...

No one would have understood. Least of all, me.

So, as I sit here, I realize our lives are no more than chapters...

Composing one big book at the end.

I've been with those as their books came to completion...

Sometimes, even, in the middle of the story...

Leaving us begging for more.

My story, as of today, is yet unfinished.

I await the ending of this chapter so that I can move on to the good part of the book, but like a dutiful reader...

I will read this part, as difficult and laborious as it is, knowing that when it's over, I'll have forgotten most of it, so that I can get to the part where the story starts to turn.

All the while knowing that the parts that irritate me today are the parts that I will miss tomorrow.

I am still working at making my life to be an old friend I find in a book...

That I could sit on the back porch swing and read over and over and over again.

It still hasn't happened, but I know that one day it will.

My chapters unfold...

I find myself looking back to those chapters when my children were young and I chased them and bathed them and laughed with them and loved them and their chubby little faces, dirty from whatever adventure had captivated them on that day...

And, I'm longing to get to the part in the story where I find resolution and my children are grown and happy and settled and their lives are nothing short of greatness and happiness.

My mother knows how I feel.

She's still reading that same part of her life's book.

I await the part of my story where I have it all resolved.

That I am settled.

And, at long last...

Happy.

In every sense of the word.

Secure.

Nothing in the world can touch me.

It hasn't happened yet.

And, people, I'm not ready to stop reading.

I'll continue this story on and on and on.

Because, as sure as there will be a tomorrow...

There is an ending.

It was written for me before I was even born upon this earth.

And, honestly, knowing that Someone...

The One who created me...

Knows how this story ends...

Is enough for me.

For right now, I am all that I need to be.

Our Home, Louisiana...

Special thanks to the talented Jep Epstein for articulating what all of us felt, but none of us could articulate, five years ago.

Anais Nin once said, "The role of a writer is not to say what we all can say, but what we are unable to say." Mr. Epstein did that, seemingly effortlessly, for the citizens of Louisiana with this most beautiful song...

Five years ago, the much anticipated Hurricane Katrina came ashore, and at the time, none of us could have predicted the destruction that little bitch would leave behind.

And, I remember...

I was at Outback with a group of friends, about to go meet my children for a Bowling for Soup concert at the Riverfront Center here at home.

I was newly separated; quite intrigued with a man I should have never even tangled with, and more worried about what was going on in my little corner of paradise than what was going on in the gulf.

Hurricanes...

Yeah, we'd had 'em.

But usually when they got this far inland, they were little more than bad thunderstorms with a chance of tornadoes...

We'd lived with it all our lives...

No big deal.

New Orleans would live...

It always did.

The world worried and waited, and we just lived on, waiting for tomorrow.

Although I wasn't worried, I wasn't stupid, either...

I made arrangements for my children to stay with their father, and then I did what any woman separated from her husband would do at the hint of danger...

I went home.

To my husband.

His job as a catastrophe adjuster dictated we would stay glued to The Weather Channel from Sunday afternoon until the storm had passed to see where he would be working next...

None of us could have guessed that aftermath.

None. of. us.

I awoke on Monday morning to the sight of Matt Lauer standing in the middle of New Orleans, ankle deep in water, and thought, "What? The storm's been gone nearly 24 hours, and New Orleans made it. I don't get it."

I woke my husband up with a, "Get up. You're not gonna believe this."

For three days we watched as waters rose...

And people tried to flee...

Sending messages on rooftops, overpasses and by boat...

That people needed help.

Our people were dying...

Had died...

Our home was slipping away.

For that brief moment in time, two people who were worlds apart in their idiology and beliefs had to cling to one another, for at that time...

Nothing else made sense.

I remember dreaming of people walking in water at night as I tried to sleep...

I remember dreaming of people screaming at the sight of their loved ones slipping away...

I remember waking up to realize I was only dreaming what was going on in real life...

And, I remember the pain.

Oh, how I remember that pain.

Should you ever doubt what is important, just imagine it being ripped away.

Five years ago, my friends, I realized I was home.

The very place I had fought against was home...

And, there was no other place on earth I'd rather be.

Louisiana...

This is our home.

I Believe...

I'm a small town girl. You all know this, and I've never kept it a secret.

As much as I have fought this place, it is my home. I love it, and anyone that knows me, knows that I wouldn't have it any other way.

The fact that everyone here knows me and can talk against me are the exact comforts I find when I realize that I am here...

There is security in knowing everyone around you...

Enemy, friend...Whichever...

If you live in my town, I know you...

And I know who you are.

And I know in which category you belong.

In all actuality, and even though I try to present myself as if I'm above it, I feel sorry for those who aren't fortunate enough to have my life.

To me, life is beautiful...

My mistakes are mine...

My good choices are mine...

And, no one else can take credit for it.

The fact is this: I am happy here.

I never wanted it, and really thought my branches were stretching farther that my roots...

But at the end of the day...

My roots are embedded far more further than my branches will ever spread...

I love life simple.

I believe in hard work and friendship and family...

I believe that home is where your heart is.

And...

My heart is here.

You can find my heart in a little man in a wheelchair living in a nursing home less than a mile from where I grew up...

You can find my heart in a little old woman that complains too much, whines too much and fusses too much, but all the while, worrying about that little man in the wheelchair.

You can find my heart in a young adult girl who has decided, after all these years, to return to college...

You can find my heart in a young man that doesn't even know where he's going, but knows his future starts at the beginning of September.

You can find my heart in a man that lives, quite simply, just a few miles from here that believes in his daughters...his grandson...his job...and that something better's coming.

Yes, my friends, after all this time...

I believe.

Living Inside...

"Our fingerprints never fade from the lives we touch."

- From the movie "Remember Me"

This quote jumped off the television screen, planting itself in my brain, moving me to a higher level of self-examination. I searched in ernest for proper credit, and after finding none, realized this golden nugget must be the gift of a screen writer somewhere in this world that didn't, nor will they ever, get the recognition warranted for revealing, what I believed to be, the most important lesson any of us could learn in life.

The last couple weeks have found me taking a closer look inward, maybe even on a more intense level than ever before. Those of you who've been on this journey of self-discovery with me over the last five years will understand the magnitude of that statement.

This time...

It's different.

No more am I beating myself up for the choices I either made or failed to make...

I don't regret my life well-lived...

Nor the people I have loved...

Nor the ones I have let go.

No, friends, today, I am pleased with me.

I am where I need to be and doing the things I need to do.

There's a satisfaction in living life simple and being happy with where you are...

Struggling to understand, and one day, as if by magic, realizing that you've had the answers all along.

In one defining moment...

One look...

One tiny little look at someone across a room...

Looking at them looking at someone you love...

With whom they have no connection except that they are part of you...

When you realize that you are alright.

That the journey may have been long...

There may have been tears...

There may have been troubles...

But it all led you today.

And, today is perfect.

One look, and that fingerprint is there.

It could be taken away tomorrow...

But that print is there now, and will never fade.

It's living inside.

Heavenly Day...

As I lie in the bed and watch the shadows on my bedroom wall announce the sun's sleepy ascent into the sky, I can feel the softness of my favorite sheets scented with their fresh from the dryer perfection, and my senses are at a heightened plane of awareness.

I think for a second about my strong believe that my bed is the most comfortable, cozy place on the planet, and as I yawn and glance over, my lips curl into a grin when I see the eyes of the two beautiful creatures sprawled out beside me look over to wish me good morning.

Somehow, those two seem to know when I'm just stirring...

And, when it's official, we are starting our day.

This morning; however, with all my intent on greeting the world, I lie there...

Just thinking about how life is a most painfully beautiful ride and that, no matter what may have ever happened, or what may ever happen, that for this particular moment in time...

Life is perfect.

My parents are with me...

My children are safe...

My home is my haven.

Today, I will see the one who makes me smile...

And, everyone I love is accounted for.

Yes, if only for this moment, today seems to be a heavenly day.

I Wish I Could be There...

I awoke from a most deep and peaceful sleep, only to argue with the sun beginning to pry its way into my bedroom. As I realized my surroundings, I knew it was Sunday and Father's Day.

I didn't even think.

I rolled from the bed, went to the bathroom and brushed my teeth.

I hurriedly dressed and jumped into my car.

I had a destination in mind...

I whipped into that drive-thru at 6:30 in the morning and ordered donuts and milk.

As I continued on my journey, it occurred to me that they may not even let me in...

Surely, there must be rules about visiting times, but I had never seen it, so...

I continued on.

I had my donuts and my milk and I just kept driving.

I arrived just before full daylight and found the place asleep.

As I walked back into the "C Wing", I wondered if I had made a huge mistake.

He may be sleeping...

He may be in the tub...

He may have been 10,000 things, and none of them included me.

Instead, what I found was his devoted aide sitting beside him, just chatting with him.

I insisted that she not leave, but with my being there, she wanted me to visit and she left.

There he was...

The most beautiful man on earth...

Lying there, half asleep.

"Whatcha' doin', PawPaw?" I quizzed him.

I knew the answer. I was just waiting on him to say it.

"Not much. Just sittin' on my can-can. It's a good job, but it doesn't pay too much."

"Yeah, but there's job security in that, right?" I asked him.

"There sh-ore is that, baby."

And, so, he and I sat and talked as the rest of the world slept.

We talked about the peach cobbler I was making that day, and he told me to put an egg in the batter if I wanted it fluffy...

But to leave it out if I didn't.

Somewhere in the conversation, he asked me, "How is your sunburn, baby?"

"Ah, it's getting better. I'm pretty good now, PawPaw."

"Your mama didn't even tell me you had that until yesterday," he said, frustrated.

"Well, I wasn't sick. I was just miserable for a day. I'm fine now."

"I know!, he exclaimed, "But if she'd told me sooner, I could have told you how to get rid of it."

He went on to tell me that mouthwash will cure a sunburn in a second. Next time, I should remember to put mouthwash on my burn.

"I'll do that, Pop." I assured him, and he was ok with that.

We sat in a comfortable silence for a second, when he told me, "I want to get me about a pound of lead and a line of fishing wire."

"You do? Why?" I asked.

"I'm thinking that if I could make a thousand pieces of pounded lead and attach them to string I could sell them over the internet..." He trailed for a second.

"The internet? How much does that cost?" He quizzed.

"Well, it's really free." I told him.

Then I continued on, "Unless you're selling something. Then, I think EBay will let you sell things for a cut. Why?"

"Because if I can pound out 1,000 pieces of lead and attach them to strings to cure poison ivy, and if we sold them at $100 each, that's $100,000."

"Your math is good, PawPaw. That is right." I told him.

"That's what I thought." He was satisfied with my answer.

His breakfast came in, and he and I discussed everything he could imagine as I fed him eggs and bacon.

I left, promising I'd get him a piece of peach cobbler up there the next day...

And, I did just that.

I sent it with my mother on Tuesday...

I miss him.

His mind, at one time so quick and sure, is today...

Still quick and sure...

Just not always right.

It's ok.

I always let him be right.

It's just easier, and in his mind, when I ask him advice...

He is still being my dad.

Yesterday, I ran by to see him in all the confusion with my mother.

I realized he'd been by himself for two days, and my heart was breaking at the thought.

I ran down the hall of the nursing home to find him...

And, there he was...

At the patient telephone...

Leaving a message for my mother.

Telling her, "I guess you must be somewhere, so call me later."

I sneaked up behind him, "Hey, sweetheart!"

"Come around here and let me look at you," he commanded.

I complied.

Before I could say anything, he went on, "I was about to call you and tell you that on that cobbler, if you're using fresh peaches, you need to add a cup of sugar to them and boil them for a minute."

I giggled.

"It was a little tart, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, but you'll do better next time."

He wishes he could be there...

But he can't.

Yeah, PawPaw, about yay big, and around and around and around...

I Miss My Mama...

My phone rang this morning before 7. Not strange at all, until a check of the caller id told me it was my Mother.

She never calls that early. As ever, when a call comes in from her number at an odd hour, I held my breath, and said a faint, "Hello," into the receiver, awaiting news on my dad.

She sounded horrible. She was so terribly congested. She was coughing and sounded miserable.

When I realized she was calling me to tell me she needed ice water, a task that could have easily been completed by one of my sisters living far closer to her than me, if she really was feeling too badly to even get up to go to the kitchen, I drove right over.

When I walked in, she looked ok. I knew she was feeling really badly, but she looked all-in-all, alright.

I got her ice water and began cooking her some breakfast.

She sat back with her feast, little more than picking at it...

She just didn't feel good.

I got busy doing a few things around the house waiting on her to finish breakfast, and when I had done all the dishes I could do, washed all the clothes I could wash and taken the trash to the street, I went in to find her still working on her eggs and grits.

Her face had started to look a little grey, but she was still working on her breakfast.

I really started to worry about my mother. I've worried over her in the past, but this morning, I was seriously worried about the mortality of my mother for the first time in my life.

I knew I was over-reacting, but I was scared.

In fact, I was more than scared...

I was terrified I was losing my mother.

In those seconds, even though she was right there with me, I began to miss my mother.

I thought about all she had sacrificed for my brother and my sisters and me...

I thought about her love for me...

That little woman loves me more than anyone in this world, and for no reason other than I am her daughter.

She thinks I'm a computer expert...

Because she came to my house one night and saw my MySpace page...

She began to tell everyone that would listen that, "Pam can build websites. On the internet!"

She has always thought I was far more beautiful, more kind, more intelligent and more talented than I have ever been.

She has always been my number one fan.

She's aging now, and there are times I want the advice of mother before I want the advice of anyone else on this earth...

And, yet, I cannot go to her.

If I am sick, I don't let her know...

For she can do nothing about it.

If I'm hurting, I can't share it with her...

Because it would hurt her more.

Sometimes, I am so lonesome for my Mama, my heart hurts.

Out of nowhere, she asked me, "Pam, do you know who I was missing so bad last night?"

"Sure don't, Mama. Who were you missing?"

"My mama. I could feel my mama around me. I wanted my mama. I missed my mama."

Hot tears came from the back of my eyes, as I replied, "I bet you were."

"I was. It was like she was right here. I could feel her. She was trying to make me better. Mama can always fix everything."

A grin of understanding stretched across my face...

There were to two of us...

For completely separate reasons...

Experiencing the exact same emotion.

Yeah, Mama, I understand.

I sometimes miss my mama, too.

Our Home, Louisiana...

I have been thinking for the past couple of weeks...

Sad, but not really knowing why...

Homesick, and yet, I am home.

Ever so proud, and yet, unable to articulate why.

The truth, people, is I am frightened out of my mind.

Everything I call home is threatened...

Oil is spilling out into our waters at a speed that no one can even calculate...

Our fishermen cannot fish...

Our oilfield workers cannot work...

So many families watching...

Praying...

Waiting...

Hoping for the best.

And, yet, my heart hurts for those 11 families that have given up the watching...

Praying...

Waiting...

Hoping for the best.

May God be with them.

May God grant them peace.

May God grant them speed.

The sad reality is those men are not coming back.

Life, as those families know it, is no more.

And, I am sad.

I have been that wife waiting on news after the flash on the television that something terrible has happened.

I have been that mother anxiously waiting and all the while, not allowing the children to know you are waiting on the news that Daddy won't be making it home...

I have been that family that all the world proclaims as awful because we are dependent upon fossil fuel to...

Clothe our children...

Feed our children...

Shelter our children.

Shame on the public for condemning a man for making a living for his family...

Shame on them.

As ever, Louisiana, the government and the fat oil cats make light of our plight.

I was in the grocery store this week, and I cannot even begin to explain to you what it felt like as I passed the seafood aisle and saw...

No shrimp...

No oysters...

No fresh Gulf seafood at all.

Everything in that store that identified "home" as "home" was not there.

I thought about those families, too.

I thought about the hopelessness that must be in those homes today...

I thought about how it was to be young and raising children, and knowing no other way of doing it...

And, I thought about not knowing when it may end.

Shame on those who attend sporting events, instead of trying to clean up their own mess they've made of our land...

Shame on them.

Once again, Louisiana, we are being called upon to pick ourselves up; dust ourselves off and start all over again.

And, I think of a tiny little boutique sitting on Jackson Street in my little town of Alexandria, Louisiana...

And, two children visiting their aunt that formulated a plan...

Lemonaid for the Gulf...

All proceeds going to clean the brown pelican...

Our state bird...

And, how their aunt, realizing their quest, put her own business on hold and took on a project that, even she, could not have imagined the magnitude...

And, I am refreshed and renewed.

This is our love...

This is our life...

This is our home...

Louisiana.

This is our day...

Come what may...

This is our home.

Louisiana...

It wasn't until about 5 years ago I realized the weight of my heritage...

Nothing like a disaster to make you realize what's important in life...

In love...

In your soul, right?

I spent my first 40 or so years denying what was within me, acting as though none of it mattered.

The country said we were next to dead last, so we must be, right?

Oh, but how this country was wrong.

So much is right with where I live...

Far more is right than could ever be wrong.

We've seen our share of disaster...

And we've always persevered.

1927 couldn't drown us...

A bitch named Katrina tried, too...

And she failed.

So, now you tell me there's an oil spill that threatens us.

Yeah, it can threaten...

However, it won't win.

No one ever does.

Our people are stronger than anything that gets in our way.

We'll make a new plan.

We always do.

Yeah, people, this state runs so deeply in my veins that even should I try to cut it out...

I'll still bleed its soul.

It's been there all along.

I only wish I had realized the depth of that meaning...

As I was fighting against it.

You can not win against Louisiana.

You may get us down, but you can never get us out.

We'll rise up stronger than we were before...

Because we know no other way to be.

It is in us all...

The spirit...

The soul...

The food...

The music...

Everything that makes us just a cut above the rest.

Ah, Louisiana...

They're trying to wash us away.

But we hold strong.

"Daddy, Play Number 4!"

"Daddy, play number 4!"

Each time his dad was anywhere near the cd player, we heard that command.

Don't know why, but he loved it...

His 4 year-old frame, stout and chubby and beautiful, for whatever reason, felt the words to this song.

The boy was born with the heart of his mother.

Some would call it his biggest asset...

Some would call it his downfall.

I, personally, would call it one of the biggest gifts of my lifetime.

To literally be able to see yourself growing inside of another human being has to be the most amazing experience anyone could ever hope to see.

I know that boy's heart.

He knows mine.

He's Mama's boy.

I can only hope I've done him justice.

Tomorrow, he turns eighteen.

Yes, we've climbed the mountains...

We've fought...

We've laughed...

We've cried...

We've failed...

We've persevered.

Almost 18 years ago to this very second, I began to feel the first pains of labor...

Half believing it...

Half believing I had simply talked myself into feeling it...

The anticipation of making his acquaintance grew.

I'll never forget climbing into bed that night and holding my hand on my belly as I felt that last pain as I drifted off.

Nor will I forget opening my eyes at 3 the next morning and waiting on the next pain just to be sure it was real and not imagined.

They had told us he was a girl.

For all those months, I had been awaiting the arrival of a boy only to have all my hopes dashed by the image coming through the sonogram.

He came into the world at 1:03 p.m. on Wednesday, June 10, 1992.

The sonogram was ever so wrong.

The boy I had dreamt of was here.

Covered in jet black hair from his head to his toes, he was exactly what I had been waiting on.

Oh my God, people, the absolute honor of watching that child grow has been one I did not deserve...

I did not earn it.

It was granted to me.

I am ever so humbled...

I am ever so grateful...

I am ever so proud to be his mother.

Tomorrow, he becomes what society considers a man.

To me, he is, and always will be, my baby boy.

The one I will forever hear saying, "Daddy, play number 4!"

If You're Reading This...

"True heroism is remarkably sober, very undramatic. It is not the urge to surpass all others at whatever cost, but the urge to serve others at whatever cost."

- Arthur Ashe

Louisiana Army National Guard

Major Ronald "Wayne" Culver, Jr.

Husband, Father, Son, Brother, Nephew, Cousin, Neighbor, Friend...

HERO.

Lay down his life May 24, 2010 in Iraq in the name of freedom.

United States Army

Spc. Joshua Tomlinson

(Promoted to Sargeant Posthumously)

Husband, Son, Grandson, Brother, Cousin, Nephew, Friend...
HERO.

Lay down his life May 18, 2010 in Afghanistan in the name of freedom.

I know neither of these two men...

I never had the honor of meeting them...

Shaking their hand...

Or wishing them Godspeed as they left behind all they loved and cherised to go fight a war which was much bigger than either of them.

Major Culver is just about my age with children younger than mine.

Sgt. Tomlinson could be my son.

I would imagine on the days of their separate departures their hearts were full of worry over the families they were leaving behind, counting the seconds until they would see them again.

I can imagine they both saw horror over there that you and I cannot even fathom.

I can imagine there were nights with no sleep when the sand threatened to consume them, the immeasurable heat of the desert ready to overtake them at any second.

And, each second of each day, I am sure they thought of home.

They both returned home this week.

I cannot imagine believing in freedom for others as much as believing in freedom for myself...

I cannot imagine fighting for the rights of children on foreign soil as hard as I fight for my the rights of my own...

I cannot imagine the heart of a soldier.

Willing to live and willing to die for those who, sometimes, are the very people fighting against you.

But you continue to fight, believing the heart of the human condition is bigger than the human condition.

How beautiful are the hearts and souls of our men and women fighting so that we can have the right to speak out against their very mission...

Giving us the right to dishonor everything that they honor...

Devaluing their values.

Willing to pay the ultimate price for freedom for all men.

Freedom isn't free, my friends.

Just this week it cost us two of the finest.

Major Culver and Sgt. Tomlinson, I take this opportunity to say thank you.

May your lights continue to shine...

May your mission be accomplished...

May one day all this world live in freedom.

And, when that day comes, the two of you, as well as all those who have gone before you and those who go after you in the name of liberty, will be the victors.

You two have touched me this week.

I just wanted you to know that...

If you're reading this.

To Jesse on His Graduation Day

My friend, Gracie, is borrowing my blog space today so that she can send her son a special message. It's from her heart.

Love to Jesse, Gracie and Micki today and everyday!







Dear Jesse,

For all your years of life, I have been preparing you for this day. Tonight, we will all watch with hearts full as you accept your high school diploma.

I'm not sure, son, you realize how proud of you I am. I don't know that I can find the words to even tell you.

I suppose one day you will understand as you get to experience graduation from the stands as the parent, instead of the football field as a student. When that day comes, still, I will be there with you. Whether it be in body, or in spirit, on that day, I want you to remember I am just as close then as I am right now.

Jesse, through all my struggles as a single mother, you and your sister have been the reason I refused to give up. When I was so tired I thought I couldn't carry on, I'd catch a glimpse of your grin and your sisters and I would remember what I was working for. When I was overcome, I'd walk into your rooms and see your sweet, sleeping faces and would find the resolve to get up the next day and start all over again.

Many times during your school days, I know you, too, felt like giving up. Teachers would discourage you; principals would discourage you. At times, I know I felt the world was placing too much responsibility on you. I can only imagine how it made you feel.

Somewhere between the madness and the sadness, my boy, you found a way to persevere.

When the world told you you couldn't, you told them to watch you do it.

When the world told you it would never happen, you made it happen.

When the world told you not to try, you became more determined.

That fighting spirit that lives in you is as strong as your loving spirit, Jesse.

Today, you prove them all wrong. Again.

You are such a good man, son. You have grown into more of a man than I hoped you would be all those years ago when you and I sat together as I rocked you to sleep.

Thank you for being my special gift to the world.

Today, as I release you to take your first steps as a man, I have no doubt you will make your mark. You will leave this world in better shape than you found it. It will be a better world because you are here.

I love you, son.

Moreturntee,
Mom

Grandpa Told Me So...

"Try not to become a man of success, but rather try to become a man of value." ~Albert Einstein

I can still see him...

Black haired and bright eyed and beautiful sitting on his lap...

Kicked back in the recliner, he and his PawPaw spent most every Sunday afternoon from the day the boy was born until that dreaded day he became too much for Paw Paw to handle.

From that point on, he had to take a seat at the end of the sofa.

Mind you, that seat was, and still is, closest to Paw Paw's recliner.

Today, that recliner sits alone, the days of Paw Paw filing it, becoming a memory.

When I tell you I was literally forced to fight the child when it was time to leave is putting it mildly...

The boy didn't want to come home.

Somewhere, in his little three year old mind, Paw Paw WAS home...

His dad and I were just a little irritation he had to endure until it was time to go back to my parents.

It was in that recliner they solved the worlds problems...

Talked about which teams were going to the Superbowl...

What they wanted to eat for supper...

About the love of Jesus...

And, how to repair a lawnmower.

His eyes were always captivated by the Mason ring on his Paw Paw's right hand.

"Paw Paw, can I wear your ring?," he'd ask each time.

"No, baby, this ring is too big for you. I can't let you lose it. I've got plans for this ring one day," was always the usual reply.

"It sure is pretty, Paw Paw," he'd say in amazement.

"You like that ring, baby?"

"I sure do."

"One day, I'll let you wear it. But, not today, ok?"

Of course, he NEVER argued with his Paw Paw and just,somehow, seemed to understand, and would let it go.

Until the next time.

The love between that boy and that little old man amazes me.

The two of them, honestly, can be the two most stubborn people in the world.

Somehow, they just bring out the best in each other.

I watched the boy tear up in frustration five years ago when I had to sit him down and teach him two new words...

Parkinson's Disease.

Over the months it took us to accept, I watch Paw Paw's "baby" become his Paw Paw's "buddy".

They faced the illness together, the two of them...

The boy turning into Paw Paw's legs...

And eyes...

And hands.

Yes, that recliner full of all the memories sits empty today.

Its former occupant now resides down the street with 109 of the most beautiful people on earth.

It was there we found my mother today to celebrate Mothers Day.

As we walked with them back to Paw Paw's room after lunch, a moment of realization hit him...

The boy and his sister stayed behind, as Grandma and I were sent to the house on a mission and dared not return until it was complete.

When we got back, precious cargo in hand, I called the two of them from the room, as Grandma entered to deliver the package.

As we walked back in, the boy heard these words, "So, big week this week, huh?"

"Yes, sir." The boy answered.

As he handed the boy a little red velvet bag, his Paw Paw said to him, "Well, let's see if this is big enough to make it too big, how 'bout it?"

I saw that boys eyes squint, half-confused, half-knowing in disbelief, as he reached for the bag and answered him, "Ok."

As he opened the bag, frantic to get the tissue paper out of his way, he could only stare at it as he pulled up a golden ring with a red stone with the letter "G" inscribed in gold.

"Oh, Paw Paw, thank you. It's perfect."

"I told you I had plans for that ring, didn't I, son?"

"Yes, sir, you sure did," He responded through teary eyes.

We all knew he had big plans...

Grandpa told us so.

Find Your Wings...

Tomorrow morning at approximately 5:59 a.m., I will walk up the stairs, turn on the upstairs hall light, open his door, peek into his room, and for the last time, I will say, "6 o'clock, baby. Time to wake up. You have to go to school."

That thought has been swirling through my mind all day today, and I'm not sure which is more bittersweet to me...

The first time I ever uttered those words, as I planned to release my baby on a world far bigger than he...

Or the last time I'll ever utter those words, as I release my baby on a world far bigger than he.

The baby boy who was placed into my arms all those years ago; a head full of jet black hair, filled with the promises of all life's possibilities stands before me today...

A man with a head full of jet black hair, filled the promises of all life's possibilities.

The world sees a dapper, handsome, strapping being standing over six feet tall, and...

I see my sweet chubby ball of wonder, full of laughter and sweetness and an innocense beyond measure...

I see the one I had to sit in the kitchen floor with his breakfast and wait on him to crawl over to take a bite before moving on to his next momentary adventure...

The one I watched capture the hearts of everyone around him because to be near him, was to be entranced...

He was a man's man, even at the age of 3...

Sitting at his place at the breakfast bar, trying to drink coffee with his Uncle Paul, because "working men" drink coffee...

And making the most awful of all faces when it touched his lips, because, try as he might...

He just didn't have a taste for it.

I see the little boy asking his uncle in amazement, "Uncle Smitty, you're a real cowboy, aren't you?"

And, grinning from ear-to-ear when his uncle let him know that he lived in Texas, and all real cowboys come from Texas.

At one time, he was gonna "put on his light-up shoes and run all the way to Texas".

I see that little boy that worked so hard to keep up with his PawPaw, step for step...

Who, just today, slowed his steps down a bit so his PawPaw could keep up with him...

As he turned to his PawPaw and asked him if he'd be his special guest on Tuesday to watch him walk across the field and claim his diploma.

I see so much when I look at that child, but mostly what I see when I look at that boy is simple...

I see one of the two greatest gifts I have ever been given.

So, tomorrow, my boy ends but one phase of his journey...

And quickly begins another.

It is my hope that I have given him the tools he needs;

The faith that will be required to travel it;

And, the insight to know that life is 50% choices...

And, 50% chance...

And, the ability to know when to make the choice...

And, when to chance it.

Oh, baby boy, we've had a long walk through life...

We've run...

We've stumbled...

We've fallen...

And, each time, we've gotten back up and started all over again.

May your finishes always be as strong as your starts;

May you find success in your failures;

May you always know the grace of God;

May God always grant you His mercy;

May you always know the difference in the two.

Before you can fly, baby boy, you have to jump...

But, it is in the free fall where you will...

Find your wings.