"Getting older's not been on my plans"

  It is customary in a eulogy to begin with a name, a date of birth, death date, those who have gone before and those who are left behind. However, mom does not deserve customary. So this letter is for her… Mom,     I feel like I am back here too soon. Once again, I am giving words about someone that I loved most who left me too early. Monday afternoon, I sat in front of Father Desmond and he asked me this, “Give me one thing that describes your mom.” I will admit I drew a blank. How could I take your entire life and micro focus it into one thing? How could I take you and break you down into a simple idea of one thing? I can’t.     I mean… How can anyone describe the North Star without seeing it? The only star that never rises or sets. The only star that is in the same place every night. The star that is the easiest to find and the one by which we navigate.  How can anyone describe a compass without using one? The most accurat e means to guide us ...

  It's something really...that moment of clarity. For the past 36 hours, I have been waiting for that moment. The one that makes it all just--fall in line.    I thought it would be the moment I was wheeled into the OR for my scheduled c-section. It wasn't. I thought it would be the moment I got to see if my daughter actually had hair. It wasn't. I thought it would be the moment I got to smell her breath to engulf the smell of life as I did her brother. It wasn't.    I just couldn't find it. And yet, for the last 36 hours all the wonderful little things I got to experience as I held my new little baby were leading up to the one I was missing.    You see...since I found out I was pregnant, I have been carrying around this deep-rooted sense of disinterest. Did I really want another baby? Did I actually want this? I had the perfect son who really had all the love I could hold. How would I ever love someone else as much as I loved him?    I didn't...

   If I knew that having a baby would be like this, I just might not have done it. If I knew that I would be void of every shred of energy molecule, I would have asked white boy if we could find an alternate route. If I knew that I would function at the basest of levels, such like a paramecium, I would have said this is not for me.   Now, I say these things having had a wonderfully easy pregnancy with my son. It was a breeze. I had no issues. Had it not been for the fact that I felt the hiccups and the occasional gymnastics routine while my stomach protruded outward, I wouldn't have known I was pregnant. All that to say...I was expecting another easy peasy pregnancy. Ha! I'm a flipping idiot.    I don't complain to throw in the face of all those who can't get pregnant. Or, even complain about what some would consider miniscule in comparison to what others have gone through. I do it because it is happening to me and I can't fix it. I complain because damnit...it ...

   I often wonder why, after almost 11 years, I post inevitably 2 times a year...without fail. Will I ever not? His birthday and his death day. And perhaps because those 2 days are and will always be very important to me. The day God gave him breath and when He took it away.   However, this year is slightly different. This year when we raise our glasses to toast his birthday we will toast the coming of his new niece or nephew.    *sigh* Here we are...the beginning of our second trimester of our second child, and I am still doing all I can to drum up my excitement and glorious anticipation. I've spent the last 8 weeks dreading the concept of 2 under 2, the bringing back of the bottles, the months of sleepless nights, and all the awful things that come with a newborn. And I am overwhelmed.    But, I also have spent the last 2 months looking at my son and knowing that as madly in love as I am with this kid, I will grow to be just as madly in love with the...

 Owen Hayes,   When I was a little girl on my birthday, Nanny would always recount to me my birth story. It was something I always looked forward to and always received without fail. It has been several years now since I have heard it, but could probably verbatim retell. As you get older, I plan to continue this tradition. I know that if I tried to tell you today, you would mumble something (maybe yell a little) put your hands down by your side, tilt your head down and walk away uninterested. So, instead I thought I would just share with you 2 of my favorite things about you...   1. Your magically infectious smile.           I never knew how good the feeling would be to have someone run up to you and just want love. I didn't think I could be someone's "favorite." Perhaps because I didn't understand it. Yes, I was your Uncle Andy's favorite, and I was your father's as well...but this is different. When you look at me, either when I pick you up...

 There is only so much you can take. Only so much you can handle before you just can't. Anymore.      What is strength? How can one quantify it? Can you really be strong physically and have no emotional or mental strength? If so, how do you cope? If not, how do you balance? It is innate in us to give of ourselves. To something...whether it be family, friends, work, or just ourselves. But, we give what needs the most. Or, what we think needs the most. And it drains us. Completely.     I would venture to say, most of the time it is easy, and, if not easy, then manageable. But, what happens when it isn't anymore? I remember feeling this exact way when I was working at my last job. I would go and go and go and go...and then find myself on the verge of breaking. This past month has been the hardest for me in some time. Why? I don't think I can pinpoint exactly the reason, but I feel it. I feel the over-bending and the near-shattering of myself.   ...

   Yesterday, Bee and I celebrated 4 years of marriage. 4! *Insert wide-eyed emoji* To some, that is minutes, a blip on the radar, a drop in the ocean. To us, it's everything. Our whole beings are wrapped up in the very thought of the other,  and I wish it no other way.    This year, the traditional gifts are fruit and flowers. 2 wonderfully fragrant, and refreshing things. However, they are alive, and they die. They must be enjoyed. They must be used for the betterment of ourselves before they pass.    With the birth of our son, we have had so many new and different challenges. Last year, we became tough like leather so as to weather the never-ending storms that pelted our lives. This year...we find ourselves having to become more malleable and sweet. Fragrant even for our little to be embraced in.    This has been more difficult for me. I tend to get hard and forget that the most important things are needed to be felt with an open heart and...