~ Quote

Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass, it’s about learning to dance in the rain.

~ Happy Birthday, Stinkerbell

“I hope when you get married and have kids, you have a daughter just like you!” Those words are what I call the dreaded “Mother’s Curse”, the words that probably should have made me think twice before having kids of my own; the words I’m sure my mom said to me on a daily basis when I was growing up.

My mom’s wish came true in the form of a 7 lb, 11 oz brown-eyed bundle of joy who I soon discovered was full of piss and vinegar. Lynsay Michelle, born on April 25th, 1988 was welcomed into this world by two parents who had no idea how their world had just shifted under their feet and by a brother who thought his newborn baby sister was the best live toy ever.

It was no surprise that she had her dad wrapped around her finger in less than 24 hours and her mom vowing to beat to a bloody pulp the first boy who would ever dare to break her heart.

She brought a light into our lives that to this very day, continues to shine as bright as the brightest star. And, it was only a matter of days before I realized that this beautiful child reminded me of someone. Me. She is definitely her mother’s daughter. Even KJ will say, “She’s just like you.” Now granted, sometimes when he says that, I’m not sure it’s a compliment!

Headstrong. Stubborn. Passionate, kind and loving. Cheerleader of the underdog and for those who are less fortunate. Cruelty breaks her heart. She dances through life one pirouette at a time, never once missing a beat.

I’ve seen her courage and her strength on a daily basis since the day she was born. She learned early in life to voice her opinions, to stand up for what and who she believes in and to always speak her mind. She dances to the beat of her own drum and I wouldn’t want her any other way.

Like most mothers and daughters, we’ve butted heads many times throughout her 22 years. She’s been the reason for countless sleepless nights and several gray hairs. During her teenage years, whether it was fashion, boys, curfews or piercings, we often disagreed. If I said be home at 10:30, she’d walk in the door at 11:00. But sometime over the past few years, we’ve seemed to have formed a different type of mother/daughter relationship, one that I deeply treasure. I have a deep respect for her and all that she’s accomplished.

Whether it’s our daily phone conversations, our random conversations on Facebook or the ‘Holalala’ text messages that make me giggle, she is and always will be my Stinkerbell, a nickname I gave her when she was about 2 or so.

On this day, her 22nd birthday, I have the same hopes and dreams I’ve had since the day she was born . . .

May she love and be loved with a passion that only gets stronger as each day goes by. May she find a man to stand by her side not only on the good days but also on the not so good days. I hope she never loses her childlike sense of wonder. I hope love and laughter continue to fill her heart. I hope she never loses faith, always dances and never gives up on her dreams.

22 years ago today, the ground shifted beneath our feet. Our lives were missing something we didn’t even know about until Lynsay was born. Our family of four was complete.

Happy Birthday, Stinkerbell. You are the star that continues to shine brightly for me . . . wherever I am. I love you . . . to the moon and back.

~ Me? Exercise?

~ The Best Thing . . .

The best thing in life is finding someone who knows all your mistakes and weaknesses and still thinks you’re amazing.

~ Life Is A Series Of Many Journeys

I’ve been working on this for weeks. And now, as I sit here in the quiet of the house, Murphy not only sleeping soundly, but gently snoring on the floor next to my feet, (which, I have to say, sometimes makes me chuckle to myself) a glass of wine at the ready and Wayman Tisdale jazzing it up from my iTunes, my mind has decided to go blank. Go figure, huh?

Isn’t it funny how once we hit mid-life, we realize our lives have almost come full circle. As teenagers, we’re rebellious; full of piss and vinegar and ready to take on the world. Our motto was, ‘we’ll do it first and think about the consequences of our actions later’. Much later. By the time we’re ready to get married and settle down, our parents have finally heaved that huge sigh of relief, thankful that we (and them) made it through those tumultuous teenage years. We go on to get jobs (real ones), buy a home and have a mortgage, have babies and find ourselves muddling through parenting as best we can. And at the end of our babies teenage years, we heave that huge sigh of relief. Just like our own parents did so many years ago. Full circle.

At almost 50, I can honestly say that I’ve led a full life. Not, by any means, one that I’m prepared to give up. I’m married to a man who loves me more than life itself. He’s learned to just shake his head as he tolerates my quirky and sometimes Type A ways. He’s forgiving of my shortcomings, of which, I tell you, are many. He’s a good provider and loving father. I find that I’m damn lucky to have him in my corner.

I have two kids who never cease to amaze me. One is quiet and laid back like his dad while the other is sensitive and passionate like her mom. They’re both a good mixture of two parents who love them more than I can say. And Stinkerbell? I’m sorry you’ve got more of me than you do of your dad...lol.

I have a loving family and while we’re scattered all over the place (okay fine, I’m the only one who’s so far away) we still manage to keep in touch while loving and supporting each other through life’s journeys.

I have a circle of friends who stand beside me through all of the speedbumps in the road. They love me and support me and vice versa. Without our friends, what do we have, right? We have our family, but sometimes, if we’re very lucky, we find a circle of friends who somehow surpasses ‘friendship’ and they also become ‘family’.

I’m sure all of us can say this about ourselves and our lives. But what I’ve discovered is it’s not until we find ourselves facing our own mortality that we sit up and realize what we have and know that we’re not near ready to give it up. It’s like we all of a sudden have this huge epiphany and we want the entire world to know.

Mine came about in January, after having my yearly mammogram. Following that phone call telling me that I had ‘abnormalities’ in both breasts, has been 3 months of worrying and waiting and oftentimes reflecting on the type of wife, mother, daughter, sister, and friend I’ve been. I would find myself wanting to be alone where I could think. I’d find myself laying awake at night. I’d ask myself if I had been a good and loving wife and did KJ know how much I loved and respected him. Was I a loving mom? Did I nurture them and teach them everything I wanted to teach them. Did I prepare them for marriage and for parenthood. Did I leave them with memories of a childhood that they could look back on with love and laughter. Would they be able to laugh and smile and cry happy tears and was it a childhood they would want to share with their own children.

It’s really odd the things you think about when faced with the possibility of a serious illness. It’s like the demon of illness has suddenly decided to invade your head and make you question everything you’ve ever done in your entire life.

During these 3 months, KJ has been right beside me. Albeit, he hovers at times, but he’s been right here when I needed him. Loving me and giving me strength. Making me laugh and letting me know he loves me. I have to be honest here and admit that I’ve sometimes taken his love for me for granted. After finally letting friends and family know what was going on, all I can say is I’m blessed to be surrounded by such love and support.

In a way, it’s sad that we sometimes don’t realize how fortunate we are until faced with an illness, either that of our own or that of a friend or family member. I’d like to think that I’ve been everything I’ve wanted to be to everyone who has been a part of my life. I’d like to think that I’ve touched lives in a positive and loving way.

The thing is, I’m not perfect. However, the good thing is, I’ve got quite a few years left to become a woman that I can be proud of. Years and years to continue on with this life.....a series of journeys that will continue to come one after another.

~ Happy Easter

Happy Easter . . . . I hope the Easter bunny leaves you all kinds of gooey goodness . . . in the form of chocolate!

~ For You

This is something I came across that I felt was worth sharing with my daughter, my sister & sisters-in law, my nieces, my Ya Ya’s . . . .

To me, you are all astoundingly beautiful and full of strength. Thank you for being who you are and for sharing with me the wonder of your ways.

~ Finding Her Here

I am becoming the woman I've wanted,

grey at the temples,

soft body, delighted,

cracked up by life

with a laugh that's known bitter

but, past it, got better,

knows she's a survivor-

that whatever comes,

she can outlast it.

I am becoming a deep

weathered basket.

I am becoming the woman I've longed for,

the motherly lover

with arms strong and tender,

the growing daughter

who blushes surprises.

I am becoming full moons

and sunrises.

I find her becoming,

this woman I've wanted,

who knows she'll encompass,

who knows she's sufficient,

knows where she's going

and travels with passion.

Who remembers she's precious,

but knows she's not scarce-

who knows she is plenty,

plenty to share.

Jayne Relaford Brown