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.