If you can't make it better you can laugh at it. ~Erma Bombeck


Sunday, April 19, 2009

Keep Believing

I sat down here to write something profound about the fact that today is not only my husband's birthday but also Angie and Brian's wedding anniversary. I was going to talk about how blessed we both have been to have such wonderful men in our lives. But for some reason the words won't come. That always happens when I try to write about the things that are the absolutely most important in my life. There are just no words that seem adequate -- No turn of phrase that fully describes the total peace and gratitude that having this man in my life brings.

That was hard enough, but then I tried to add in something warm and insightful about Angie's loss of Brian and how hard it must be and how so amazingly, incredibly strong she is, and all I could do was cry... Cry for Angie as I try to imagine what her life must be like as she learns to walk through the shadows on this new path she's been pushed down... Cry for the fear that I wouldn't ever be able to be that strong...

In the end, the only thing I can really say coherently is this:

My best friend, strongest supporter, toughest critic, and most amazing lover turns 55 today. I am grateful to have been given 30 years (so far) with this amazing man. It seems like Only Yesterday that we met, and no other song says how I feel better:

I am going to Keep Believing that we will have at least another 30 together.

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

My Girl is 5 today!

Dear MG:

Wow! I cannot believe that it has already been five years since we stood in front of the judge and vowed to become a family. I'm still not sure you really wanted to make it legal. You had such hopes of somehow being able to live with your little brother. (I'm sorry we couldn't make that happen for you. At least we've been able to maintain contact and see him a few times a year.) I'm so glad you you didn't back out at the last minute; that somewhere deep inside you knew that in this family you would finally have a forever home.

What a rocky road we've had. You came to us so hurt by the life you'd already led. You were one angry, bitter, and often mean and cruel little girl who had built tall and thick walls around her heart to avoid being hurt anymore; who used emotions like a poisonous snake uses venom to paralyze anyone who dares get too close. But there were tiny slivers of cracks through which your true self shone so brightly that it was almost blinding. In those moments, when you let down your guard, Daddy and I saw a beautiful, loving, delightful spirit that we knew we had to free.

Now here we are, 6-1/2 years into our relationship, on the 5th anniversary of the day we finalized your adoption. It hasn't been easy, kiddo. There have been times when we wanted to turn tail and run for the nearest exit. But then we'd notice something miraculous: The cracks in the wall had widened a little more. With each catastrophic event came new insights. With each major blow-up came more cracks. With each heart-breaking, gut-wrenching setback came a few more steps toward you finding yourself.

Today, I can honestly say that there are more holes than wall. More and more the true heart of the little girl I fell in love with shines through.

My sweet little Girl, I want you to know that we have never stopped believing in you. No matter how hard things got, your dad and I have never (for more than a minute or two) been willing to give up on you. And we never will. And, until you can start believing in yourself enough to stand on your own, we will believe enough for you and be there to help you stand. Together, we will tear down the rest of the bricks and free that beautiful, loving heart for good and ever.

Please remember, honey, that you will not always be 17, with 17-year-old angst, hormonal upheavals, and fluctuating brain function . One day you will be a woman with an open and secure heart. And though I will ALWAYS be your mother, I will not always have to mother you. I look forward to the day when my daughter becomes a woman whom I will be honored to count among my best friends.

I love you, you sweet, ornery, uplifting, disheartening, insightful, stubborn, delightful pain in the butt. Thank you for being mine.

Wall Photo Credit: Jonathandes

Thursday, April 2, 2009

Twenty Five Years

One-quarter of a century of birthdays and Christmases.

Three hundred months of love and laughter.

9,125 days of successes and failures, sadnesses and joys, triumphs and defeats.

219,000 hours of growth and understanding, of wisdom gained and sanity lost.

13,140,000 minutes of life void of a mother's advice. And annoyances.

Not one moment of regret for having been chosen as your own.

It's been twenty five years since I last heard you say, "I love you, my angel." Yet, somehow, I know that you've never left me. I've felt you near; heard you whisper softly in those wee hours of the morning when I'm not quite awake but not fully asleep.

I see your presence in the mirror of my mind when I have to live through hard times.

I remember the laughter in your eyes when I use one of your lines to deal with difficult people.

I live in the warmth of the love of the heart of the kindest, most loving and giving woman I've ever had the honor of knowing.

You were only my mother here on earth for 17 years, but you have never stopped being my mother here in my heart.

Happy 25th Heavenly Birthday, Mom. I love you very much. See ya in a few...

Mother and me - 1967


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