I Looked Evil in the Eye

On a worn, grassy path through a park meadow in town, I looked evil in the eye. I had known I would be seeing him. Every day as I passed him I made sure to look at the ground, the trees, the sky, my children. Anything to avoid him. But then I thought to myself, isn't that just the same thing as avoiding the car in the parking lot?

So I looked him in the eye. And he smiled at me. And said hello.

How dare he? This person who so literally, intentionally, selfishly and cowardly pursued a change in so many people's lives?

My gaze did not waver. I put forth everything I had to tell him. He may have changed my life, but to the dismay of many he did not destroy it. So many, many things have been made better.

I looked evil in the eye. He looked away first.

A "Birthday"

Today's date does not escape me. You could be one today. The year of "what-ifs" and milestones don't go unnoticed.

I think of you daily, though I must admit that I do not cry anymore. I guess time really does lessen the pain now and then.

I still feel the pressure of the hand that held mine on the day we sent you away. But more so I can feel the strength of the arms that held me up when I finally fell under the weight and the pain of the realization that you were gone.

As I work so hard towards forgiving others, I hope you can forgive me, and know that you will always be remembered.

Summer Breeze

Sand in between
Fingers and toes
Splashing water, rivers
in the sand.

Sand covers bottoms
Hair streaked with sun
A shout, a laugh, a cry
Too much beach?

A grain of sand in
a bite of sandwich,
a piece of
watermelon.

A breeze in the air
to topple umbrellas,
flutter the towels
carries with it

A memory.
The scent of charcoal
lighted with a
strike...

A match and lighter
fluid.
Comfort in the memory
Comfort in the breeze.

It's a Mom Thing

On Monday, I went to a funeral for a person I didn't know.

Last week, emails and phone calls spread like wildfire one early morning. Sadness on the day before summer vacation.

For all my criss-crossing of town and school, I had met her only once, though I'm sure I'd seen her dozens of times. She was an every mom: Soccer, ballet, camp, PTO. Our daughters were in the same class.

My husband asked me why I wanted to go to the services for someone I didn't know. But that is also a question I am sure was raised in other houses, other minds last week. "It's just a mom thing," I replied, as I looked at my oldest daughter. "It's just something I need to do."

She could have been me. Young, pretty, blonde, wife, daughter, friend, mom. Taken too soon by a heart that didn't work quite right.

Yesterday, I talked with her husband. I am so impressed by him, though I am sure shock is driving him right now. Celebrating the end of school and the start of summer with his young children at the BBQ at their teacher's home. You would not know to look at him that 8 days before his world had ceased as he knew it.

For the last 8 days, I've hugged and kissed and pinched little bathing-suited booties a little more than I did before (if that is possible!). It's just a mom thing.

The Power of a Word

A friend of mine signs her emails with a particular tag line... "peace." It's funny, but reading her emails there actually is an air of calmness and peace about them.

So I decided to try an experiment. I wondered if the fact that reading the word "peace" actually felt like it brought some, what would writing it out bring?

I've changed my own email closing line (getting her permission, of course!). I used to sign off my emails with the word "best," for best regards, but it didn't seem quite fitting anymore. I'm still searching for peace, some days more than others. So... "peace" is my new closing.

And you know what? It works.

When I'm working hard against a PTO deadline, it helps calm me down. When I'm sending an email I'd really rather not be spending time on sending, it helps take the sting out of the hurt. When I'm writing with friends, it helps affirm their friendships in my life.

It's true. One word can have a lot of power, meaning, and the ability to change.

What Do You Do All Day?

A friend emailed me this little story. It's very funny. I know, at some point and in some way, this question has been asked of every mom who doesn't "work" outside the home.

A man came home from work and found his three children outside, still in their pajamas, playing in the mud, with empty food boxes and wrappers strewn all around the front yard. The door of his wife's car was open, as was the front door to the house and there was no sign of the dog.

Proceeding into the entry, he found an even bigger mess. A lamp had been knocked over, and the throw rug was wadded against one wall. In the front room the TV was loudly blaring a Cartoon channel, and the family room was strewn with toys and various items of clothing. In the kitchen, dishes filled the sink, breakfast food was spilled on the counter, the fridge door was open wide, dog food was spilled on the floor, a broken glass lay under the table, and a small pile of sand was spread by the back door.

He quickly headed up the stairs, stepping over toys and more piles of clothes, looking for his wife. He was worried she might be ill, or that something serious had happened. He was met with a small trickle of water as it made its way out the bathroom door.

As he peered inside he found wet towels, scummy soap and more toys strewn over the floor. Miles of toilet paper lay in a heap and toothpaste had been smeared over the mirror and walls. As he rushed to the bedroom, he found his wife still curled up in the bed in her pajamas, reading a novel.

She looked up at him, smiled, and asked how his day went. He looked at her bewildered and asked, "What happened here today?"

She again smiled and answered, "You know every day when you come home from work and you ask me what in the world do I do all day?"

"Yes," was his incredulous reply.

She answered, "Well, today I didn't do it."

by Jennifer Johnson

Never Alone

Moms are never really alone. Especially when the more children you have, the harder it gets to be to find that time! Shower time? Someone always come in. Potty time? Ha! Phone time? Isn't that code for "come talk to mom" or "fight with sister over a Polly Pocket?"

Even when I get to sneak out and actually get my alone time, I'm not alone. For one, there's all the carseats and toys in the car. But here's my example from yesterday...

Tuesday and Thursday nights are my escape for myself. A little me time to tone my body and calm my mind, heal my spirit. A little more than an hour of taking care of me. Bliss.

Yesterday, during a few errands, I filled my water bottle for the car, leaving it there to take with me into my class last night. When I picked up the bottle to head into the building, water sloshed in the almost empty container. Some little body had needed cooling down on our way home from Girl Scouts.

Halfway through class, while lifted in a vinyasa series, my arm brushed my side. It found a sticker. An Easter sticker, no less.

No, mommies are never alone.

My husband reminded me that someday I will be, and that will leave me sadder than an empty water bottle and ill-placed sticker. He knows me too well.