Archive | January, 2013

My Late Grandmother

29 Jan


I was nine when my grandmother died. From what I hear my grandmother was spunky and beautiful and stubborn and full of life. She said what she meant and meant what she said. I remember her calling me “child” with an affection that only comes from a grandmother’s voice. I remember her Christmas cookies and waking up on Christmas morning having her be the most excited person to start the day. I remember my grandmothers big  jewelry and flashy clothes. I remember “her” chair and to never sit in it. I remember her strawberry hair and her baby powder smell.

I remember the morning she died and seeing my mom sit at the edge of her bed and cry until she had no tears left. My dad sat at the edge of the bed with her and rubbed her back as she rocked back and forth silently sobbing. I didn’t dare go in their room. I was scared. I didn’t want to cry. For some reason I felt like I didn’t deserve to. I felt like tears wouldn’t bring her back. All they would do is make my mom cry even more. I thought crying would make me selfish.

I remember driving to Texas in silence wondering why no one was talking. Wondering what exactly happened. Because no one was telling me anything. I remember trying to stay strong for everyone and feeling like I was in some sort of twisted dream. I remember everyone smiling and pretending like everything was OK when we all knew it wasn’t. Why were they pretending everything was OK? I remember feeling SO guilty for smiling while playing in the hotel pool. I didn’t deserve to smile.

I remember my mom giving me fifty cents to go to the vending machine and walking into the vending machine room to find dead cockroaches covering the floor. My brother and I didn’t dare walk in there, but we also didn’t dare complain that we were hungry…because we really didn’t deserve to. I remember walking into the viewing. My cousins were crying because they didn’t want to see Granny Annie like that. I remember seeing her hands and was confused that they were a strange shade of orange. I remember wondering why she was wearing her glasses because I knew she wouldn’t need them in heaven. I remember being so mad at my parents for having me see her like that. I didn’t say anything about it because I didn’t deserve to.

I remember talking to my brother at the funeral and having my other grandmother “shush” me because they were bringing out the casket. I remember being mortified and felt like I had somehow disrespected my late grandmother. I remember that I was supposed to sing at the funeral, but I didn’t want to. My voice wouldn’t bring her back. I remember my mom always singing “Country Roads” while looking at the sky for months after my grandmothers death, I remember that her windshield wipers always went off randomly and she laughed saying that Granny Annie was telling us hello. I remember that being one of the only times my mother laughed for a year after my grandmothers death.

I often wonder how things would be if my grandmother was still here. I can’t help but feel that she is a part of me and I am, in a way, like her. I wonder if she would be the only one who understands me if she were alive because my personality is so much like hers was. I wonder if she would be my voice of reason. My son is just like my grandmother. Stubborn and brutally honest. I love that about him because I see a little bit of her in him.

My grandmother passed away 15 years ago and my heart still aches to smell her baby powder perfume and see her smile on Christmas morning. To see her jingling over sized jewelry and sequined jackets. Would she be proud of me? Would she still look at me as if I were her happiness just like she used to?

I miss my grandmother and I can’t help but wonder if I would have a little more clarity if she were here to say “Child, pick yourself up by your boot straps and stop crying about something you have no control over. Stop feeling sorry for yourself.”

You Know What Makes My Blood Boil?

25 Jan

Ignorance. Ignorance makes my blood boil.

Facebook has a tendency to bring out the worst in people. It saddens me to see people that I once looked up to spitting out hatred without even thinking twice.

Lately the biggest issue I have seen is homophobia. Everyone has the right to believe what they want, but sheesh, find some facts to back up your completely baseless claims.

If a man wants to marry another man or a woman wants to marry another woman WHY DO YOU CARE?! How the hell is it any of your business?! People act like whenever a same sex couple gets married that they personally get a year taken off their own life. Newsflash: Them getting married has absolutely ZERO affect on you… at all… Period.

If a man is on his death bead in the hospital and wants his partner by his side, if a woman wants her partner of 20 years to get life insurance benefits after she dies, if a same sex couple *GHASP* wants to adopt a child so they are loved and aren’t in foster care or in an orphanage IT ISN’T ANY OF YOUR BUSINESS!

You know what really makes my blood boil? People who preach that these same sex couples would make TERRIBLE parents. If you are one of these people I would love to hear how you are higher than God and know what is going on behind the closed doors of same sex houses. No straight people are bad parents? No straight people get divorced? GET REAL!

Spend your energy focusing on something more productive. Fight human trafficking. Fight hunger. Fight domestic violence.

While you are painting your world into a corner I am teaching my children to love everyone no matter what color their skin is, what gender they identify with, who they love or how much money they have. I am even teaching them to love you. Why? Because God said to love thy neighbor and I believe in that.

You’re welcome.


When In Doubt, Refer To Dr Seuss

23 Jan

When In Doubt, Refer To Dr Seuss

Thanks for the confidence boost Mr Seuss. I needed it today.

Life’s Not The Breath You Take…

18 Jan

It’s the moments that take your breath away.

I have woken up with this song stuck in my head every morning for a week now. I don’t think that’s a coincidence. I think its the universe trying to give me a big wake up call because clearly the little wake up calls haven’t worked. Its no coincidence that my mom gave me that exact phrase in a frame without even knowing how important the song was to me. Its no coincidence that I read an article about creating my own future the same day I got the framed picture. Its no coincidence that I got a letter with words of encouragement in the mail on the day I was feeling incredibly discouraged.

I want to do the universe justice. I want a life full of monents that take my breath away.

Things that are important:

My son telling me that he loves me to the moon and back and ALL THE WAY TO  NEW YORK CITY

My daughter singing along to the lullabyes that I sing to her that my own mom used to sing to me


Sometimes I Am Proud That All I Did Was Breathe

14 Jan

Some days I dont want to get out of bed because the world is swallowing me

Some days all I want to do is scream YOU WILL NEVER UNDERSTAND

Some days I let fear consume every ounce of my being

Some days I know how stupid it is to let fear control me

Some days I wonder how it got this way

And some days I feel blessed to be this complicated person

Some days singing is the only thing that makes me happy

Some days I curse the world for not GETTING IT

Some days I forgive them for their density

Some days I wish people could live in my shoes for five minutes

But some days I feel like that would be cruel and unusual punnishment

Some days I know I am my biggest critic

But some days I feel like I am my only supporter

Some days I feel so alone

And some days all I wish for is to be alone


And some days I should be happy even if all I did that day was



Are You Finished Yet?

Life is all about moments...

Denim & Dumplings

Fashion, food and everything in between

101 Books

Reading my way through Time Magazine's 100 Greatest Novels since 1923 (plus Ulysses)

write meg!

Writing, Reading and Loving Like a Mother

The Picture Book Review

Reviews of Children's Board Books, Picture Books, Activity Books, and Graphic Novels

Small Potatoes

Because in MY life, these things are no small potatoes


Everyone has questions. Few have answers.

The Lemonade Chronicles

A quixotic quest for the bright side.

Talkin' Reckless

Thoughts on feminism, health, and education


betcha can't read just one

Aging Gracefully My Ass

A sincere blog about a donkey

Mike is happy.


Pretty Feet, Pop Toe

It's just my point of view. Love it or hate it.

Ginger's Grocery

Come on in and browse. The biscuits were made fresh this morning, the Slush Puppie machine was just refilled with a new bottle of red syrup, and we have the biggest selection of bait this close to town.

Her et al.

My thoughts, my life, my words. My quotable world.

Zen Scribbles

Sometimes a pain, sometimes a klutz, sometimes even a Grammar Nazi, but always a writer, always a reader, always a self-proclaimed chocoholic.

Ms Toy Whisperer

I am a writer whom journals about life, family, New England, everything and nothing and whispers of the Holy Spirit.