To Mom with Love

“We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty.”
~Maya Angelou
 
Mom,
You have shown me by your words, love, and life that we only become butterflies when we have spent time patiently waiting to emerge from the chrysallis.  Then our wings must straighten and dry.  They are delicate and can tear easily, yet, strong enough for flight.  I love you more than words.
Love,
Pamela
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
                            

    

                      

                                                         

                                                                

                                                   

                                                                                                                                                                                      

                                                                                                                       

                                                                

            

                                                         

                               

Tragedy’s Scream

The sounds of tragedy are everywhere:  howling wind, slamming water, splitting earth, cancer’s mutterings, growling of bloated bellies, clinking of bottles, jabbing of needles, mothers’ crying, and much, much more.  What do we do when these sounds become faint?  Distant?  Far away whispers of an event or series of events that happened to “them,” “him,” or “her?”  Do we keep our masks of indifference on, tuck our legs and heads in and retreat into our shells? Or do we allow sparks of empathy to combust within our minds?  This ignition affecting quick reactions of assistance to “our” global family?  What do we DO when we hear tragedy scream?

 

 

Friday Moment

{this moment} – A Friday ritual. Photos – no words – capturing moments from the week. Simple, special, extraordinary moments. Moments you want to pause, savour and remember. “This Moment” is a ritual found on  Life inspired by the Wee Man which I then kidnapped from Almost there by Sarah-Jane.

Feel free to share your moment below! Cheers!

 

Parental Love Musings

Yesterday was my Christmas with my children.  They returned after being gone for a couple of weeks and I was grateful.  I looked at them in wonder. . .I gave birth to these two, beautiful, young adults??? It’s hard to believe.  Seems like so long ago.  No matter how much time keeps those big and little hands moving, no matter how much we are together or apart, when it comes down to it, nothing really changes.  We’re a family.  Families, despite sabotage attempts or psychological warfare, survive because you can’t kill love.

Some people try to.  They mask their insecurities and fears through talking smack about others, lying, trying to buy others’ affections.  These people believe, in their alternate realities, that love can be smothered, traded, stabbed, shot, bought.  What they don’t realize is that love is eternal, infinite, impenetrable.  Love is and always will be.  So, these militant, bitter individuals can keep at it. . .stockpiling their arsenals, detonating bombs, attempting through charm to deceive.  Some of these people receive wake-up calls and ignore the flashing, red lights and ear shattering buzzers.

To these individuals, I say, love isn’t going anywhere, any time soon.  Might as well open your hearts to it.  Let it fill those holes that need plugging.  Maybe, in the process, you might uncover joy.  Then, there will be no going back to the darkness, the bitterness, the hate.

Unconditional love sandwiched between respect and compassion make for some fantastic soul food.  My kids receive this.  From me.  Have since they were babies.  While, at times, they might not like me because I don’t give in to their every whim, tough.  Those of us ,who had involved, caring parents growing up, respect and love our moms and dads who were quick to apologize and not afraid to say no.  Kids grow up.  They’ll get it, eventually.  Time will be the great eye opener.  My kids will see clearly how much I have adored them, do adore them.  They will understand that love doesn’t die.  Expressions of it might differ but it’s not going anywhere.  Love is, was, and always will be.