One evening, while on vacation this Summer, my youngest son and I went for a walk on the beach.

Just the two of us.

We walked along the beach as the sun was setting, and on occasion, he would run a few feet in front of me or beside me. It was the perfect dusk lighting when bodies are outlined by the sunset. I watched his little silhouette run, dance, jump and return to my side. There was a stillness that hushed over the water, the air and even the colors in the sky. People almost appeared to be in slow motion, even as they were taking advantage of the evening air – taking part in a jog or a game of volleyball. Everyone was still visible – Just barely. The sounds of couples, children playing and nature were surrounding us, yet – A pure sense of serenity began to introduce itself to us.

We walked. We stopped. We even retraced our steps in certain moments. We were simply present. With no plan. With nowhere in particular to go. With no reservations. No one was waiting for us. We had no phones, no technology, no toys, no shovels, no books, no schedules, no money, and no worries.

We had each other – And that was more than enough.

Everything that surrounded us was so beautiful and peaceful. Simplicity and nature intertwined into one of their finest moments.

The sunset, the waves, the seashells, the ocean breeze – All embracing us as we walked along the shoreline.

It was so fulfilling to watch my son as he enjoyed everything that surrounded us, with intense enthusiasm and with complete gratitude. We talked, laughed, hunted seashells and absorbed every moment of our walk together. He even held my hand on the way back to the condo.

At one point, we were so far from home. We looked back on how far we had gone and realized that we must have gotten carried away in the calm of the ocean – in our evening escape.

I wish we could’ve stayed in that moment forever. A moment to “bottle-up” and never let go of. The true moments I live for & that make my heart most genuinely fulfilled.

I’m so grateful to have had that much needed time with my boy. To have made that new memory with him.

It was one of life’s gentle reminders to be present – To stop. To Absorb. And to not take these simple experiences for granted.

A loving reminder of what truly matters – In a moment that I needed to recognize it the most.

This was written about 10 years ago ~ On November 12, 2004.  Hard to believe because I remember this moment so vividly ..

I often wonder

If you’ve found the calm

Within your storm.

If you’ve found the warmth

In a breath.

If you’ve held the hand

Of the one you love,

Or if you’ve traded it all in

For a brush with death.

Would it be crazy

To tell you that I miss you.

To tell you now …

That I’ll always love you.

So often I wonder …

Why my love was never

Enough?

I’ve endured your words

And blatant disregard

For all I was

And all we could’ve become.

So now I sit,

And wonder why …

Why we were never

Important enough?

For you to love us …

Is all I asked.

Instead, you traded it

All away …

To death.

Death of who you were,

And all I believed

You would become.

I loved you so much …

But, instead, you choose

To bury my love.

Was I not what you

Thought me to be?

Please tell me …

Did you not hear my

Heart bleed?

Through those concrete floors

And glass walls …

Were you not able to see

My eyes

Or feel my love?

Love left me broken. Again.

I was betrayed. I was heartbroken.

It happened again.

Everything was falling down around me.

The aching in my heart was absolutely unbearable.

I was angry. Incredibly angry.

The light in my eyes went out – Long ago.

I felt worthless. I felt unattractive. I felt like a fool.

So many empty promises filled the air that was swirling around me.

The ocean tide wouldn’t stop knocking me around.

I was barely breathing. I couldn’t quite come up for air.

On one side, my hero, the man that I loved so deeply was dying. I just didn’t know how to catch my breath.

On the other side, my husband, was distant and our vows were as broken as my spirit.

And then, there was my dream. My business. It was fragile and it was crumbling.

Everywhere I looked, failure was swallowing me alive. Heartache was consuming each and every breath. I was alone. Scared. And, desperate for a miracle. A new lesson in love.

After my Grandfather passed away – My time, outside of work, was devoted to my Grandmother. My Mammy. My boys and I spent each weekend with her. And we even extended our “weekends” out through Mondays, even Tuesday mornings, if we could – It was too difficult to leave her alone. I wasn’t sure how she would settle into her grief. She just lost the love of her life.

My older son would periodically stay with her, just the two of them – And all of the sudden, I was receiving pictures of dogs that were in need of adoption. Oh boy – Mammy and my son joined forces to guilt me into getting a D-O-G!!! NOOOOOOOWAY!!! How would I take care of another living, breathing soul?!?! I was barely keeping my S@%T together as it was! Ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous!

Until ….

Good ol’ Facebook. Yes, in the precise moment Mammy was insisting that my boys needed a dog. That I needed a dog. That a dog would offer us companionship that was invaluable – She was so incredibly persistent. I didn’t want a dog. I didn’t want a dog in my house. I had no time to train a dog. No time to clean up after a dog. I didn’t even have any love or energy in my heart to offer a dog. This was a horrible idea. The conversation was off-limits. My son was getting his hopes up – Yes, they continued to look. They were in Cahoots! They were fiercely in Cahoots! Oh boy. I never said No to her. For how long could I possibly dance around the fact that this was just not going to happen? I tried. And tried. And here we come, back to Facebook – I see a photo of a dog that was in need of adoption. A pit bull. A red-nosed pit bull. What?? No way! But, then – I went back to that dog. Back to the picture. And, in that moment – Something came over me. The eyes filled with so much soul – Spoke to my heart.

I contacted the girl (who happens to be one of our massage therapists and a friend of mine) that posted the picture of this precious, sweet soul. As my luck would have it, that dog was already adopted by the time I talked myself into inquiring. However, she notified me that there were two other dogs at the shelter that fit the same description and demeanor of the dog that began to open up my heart, once again.

Mammy, my boys and I made plans to visit the two dogs that weekend at the shelter. As soon as we got out of the car, I knew our life was about to change. I felt this overwhelming feeling of love. And how wonderful that we could rescue one of these precious, gentle souls. We met with both dogs briefly that day. I knew our path was being paved in the right direction. Mammy – of course, she agreed. She gave me a look of satisfaction as we got back into the car.

The next day, my little Sister (an avid animal lover), my boys and I returned to the shelter. When we pulled up, one of the dogs from the previous day ran up to my vehicle. He sat at the back, looking up at us – As if to ask, “When can we go home?” I don’t even know how it was possible that he knew it was us. But, he did. He knew where he belonged. And, so did I. We met with both dogs, played with them in the outdoor area and I wish we could’ve taken both of them. We did, however, have to make a decision. There was a younger female and a slightly older male. The female had been at the shelter a short period of time. While the male had spent the last two years in the shelter.

We chose the male dog. Not only was his adoption incredibly overdue – But, there was something so powerful about him that captured my heart. He was gentle with my boys. And – he radiated gratitude and love.

We were able to bring him home that next week. He has completely changed our lives by being part of our family.

Mammy loved him. He even assisted my older son and I on our weekend trips to her house, to care for her, after she had been diagnosed with cancer. He loved her. And, he knew. Just as she knew, that I was about to lose my very best friend. He knew, just as she knew, that the boys and I were going to need some very big shoes filled. Perhaps that is why she kept telling us, “You need to find a big-footed dog!”? I’m not sure, but I am positive that I was offered my new best friend, for a very specific reason.

He is the most unexpected place I would’ve ever thought of finding love.

He offers a love that is gentle and kind.

He never judges me.

He is forgiving – Almost to a fault.

His eyes are honest and genuine.

He is always overwhelmed with joy – each and every time I walk within his sight.

He knows when my heart is broken.

He even attempts to heal it.

He has taught me patience.

He has taught me lessons beyond my imagination.

He is loyal.

His eyes are full of soul, love and gratitude.

It is the kind of love that encourages me to be a better person.

The kind of love that begins to heal our hearts – And whispers that it’s okay to love again.

I know that he has a story.

Just as he knows I have mine.

So often, I watch him and as I read his “Live, Love, Rescue” collar – I am humbled by his loving nature. My gratitude for his love is endless.

I watch him in awe and wonder – How can our two souls be so connected? How is it that our love is so unconditional and genuine?

He knows that we rescued him.

And – I know, that by society’s standards – We rescued him.

However, the truth is – He rescued me. He rescued us.

It has been here, in this unexpected place, that I have found purpose and a renewed faith in love.

Today is my Grandfather’s Birthday – He would’ve turned 85. He passed away three and a half years ago. Our family referred to him as Pappy and my Grandmother, as Mammy.

I’m not sure how to express appropriately, in words, how much they influenced my life. How much love we shared. And – How deeply I miss them.

I like to think that they are around me. Still.

But, I don’t actually know that for sure. I only hold onto the hope that this is the case. That this is our reality.

I know. This is the circle of life. Right? Only, I don’t think I’m dealing with it as well as I should be. I’m not really sure how to deal with the loss of them. Or, how to appropriately fill the void that has been left inside my heart.

I suppose that when we lose someone that means so much to us, we begin to see their influence in everything we do, people we encounter throughout our day and even within the choices that we make.

So often, I feel their presence. I believe that they find ways to show me that they are still here.

I like to think that we honor them within our positive choices. And that they guide us through our – well – not so good choices. I like to think that our souls remain connected and that their unconditional love is still present in my life.

But, the truth is – That life without them lacks something. Something big. Something that nothing else can truly offer. Something that I loved so deeply. Appreciated so intensely. And, something that I will never have again.

I’m trying. Trying so desperately to continue on a path that they wanted for me. For my boys.

But, sometimes, if I’m being completely honest – I don’t know what that is anymore. I’m tired. No, actually – I’m beyond exhausted. Emotionally exhausted.

Maybe it is all part of healing. Or part of the grieving process. I really don’t know.

Today, I have been thinking. A lot. About Pappy. About Mammy. About life. About death. And about everything that occurs in between.

My Pappy – He sure was a good man. My most loyal cheerleader and one of my best friends. He radiated moral character – Integrity, honesty, loyalty – And was the epitome of a dedicated family man. He was fair, was never quick to judge and he was forgiving beyond measure.

Mammy always said that he was a charming young man. Chivalrous. And, very handsome. There were so many reasons for her falling in love with him. Looking back on their pictures, he almost resembled James Dean. He looked like and had an air about him – of a movie star. So did she, actually. They shared a love story that melted my heart throughout my entire lifetime.

He looked at her with so much love. And gratitude. Loyalty and commitment. I loved the way he watched her. How he would smile at her with gentleness and appreciation. He even wrote her poetry. I imagine that he was much more romantic than we ever were told. And that they were willing to share.

Everyone deserves a love like that.

Everyone deserves to have someone look at them with the same gentle, loving eyes.

My fear – is that I’ll begin to forget. Forget the moments we shared. Forget the many conversations we had and wisdom he so freely offered. Forget what Mammy told me about him. The things that he would’ve never spoken of. He was a modest man. And humble. So much so, that he refused to have services once he passed away.

About a week before he passed away, I sat by his bedside and he told me, “If people want to honor me, they should’ve done so while I was living. The time to honor someone is not after they die.”

Wow. How could I possibly argue with that? I couldn’t. It definitely stuck with me, that’s for sure.

I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately. It’s a concept that I believe to be a bit perplexing, actually. How after someone passes away, people come out of the woodwork claiming their right to a relationship with the deceased.

People can recreate memories, the way they want them to be. Not always as they actually were. People can redefine what that person meant to them. The impact they had. And visa-versa.

Stories can be rewritten to help ease guilt. And selfishness, even. People often attempt to right their wrongs. Take back words. Smooth the rough edges. Create the visits that they never actually took the time for.

All in hopes to rewrite their story. To smooth out the rough patches and any wrong-doings.

When I was little, Mammy and I were driving by a cemetery – I remember seeing a look upon her face that I will never forget. She got quiet. She looked so sad. In retrospect, I recognize those eyes. That distant and empty look in her eyes.

I remember asking her what was wrong as we drove past. She explained that her Mother was buried there. She missed her. Intensely. She passed away far too young. It was in that moment that she instilled, “Don’t take the people you love for granted. You never know if you will have them tomorrow.”

She explained to me that one day, I will lose her. And Pappy.

I disagreed. They were supposed to out-live me, somehow. She laughed. I didn’t. And we agreed to disagree.

She strongly urged me to pay attention to what she had to say. She encouraged me to never speak harshly to those I love. To speak to them as if it were my last words. She told me that she never spoke to her Mother with disrespect and always took the time to visit her and her Daddy. She stressed the importance – And explained how grateful she was, to not be carrying the guilt so many face after their loved ones pass on.

I never forgot that. I still value her advice, to this day. Perhaps even more now than ever.

Days before Pappy passed away, I was fortunate enough to have one last conversation with him. He made me promise him these three things:

1. To be the best Momma possible to my boys.
2. To help take care of Mammy for him.
3. To never, ever give up.

I miss him so deeply. I miss them both more than imaginable. I always knew that these moments would be the darkest of my life. They were my foundation. My greatest source of unconditional love. My mentors and my best friends. They believed in me far more than I ever believed in myself.

It’s difficult to take one step at a time, in a forward direction, when nothing looks familiar anymore.

My sanctuary no longer exists. Everything changed. Just. Like. That.

While I remain eternally grateful for the many years of love and stability we did have – I find myself wishing for one more moment. One more conversation. One more hug. And one more moment to tell them how much I loved them. How deeply they have influenced my life.

Selfishly – I want them to come back.

Today, in honor of my Pappy’s birthday, I filled my bird feeders in hopes that the cardinals will continue to visit us. And, I planted yellow mums in honor of Mammy.

I know, whole-heartily, that they would not want me in this place. Feeling sad and empty. Especially not today.

I know that their greatest wish is for me to spread my wings – And keep my promises I made to Pappy.

I know this to be true – because they taught me, from a very young age, that the best way to honor those we love is to live our best life.

To carry those we love in our hearts. Always. And to recognize the gentle whispers of their everlasting presence in our lives – And in our souls.

And to always walk in gratitude – Offering to others, what has so graciously been offered to us.

Written back on November 7, 2011 … When my legs were growing weak …

“I suppose we’ve all walked the fine line.  Balancing it all, not faultering in one direction or another.  Perhaps it’s next to impossible.  Or, perhaps it’s the test life offers us … to find our path that leads us to our purpose?  When do we determine the sacrifice is too intense, the price too high?  The need and desire to provide … realizing that your love, passion, time and your heart are the most precious gifts you have to offer.  As I sit here, on this line which connects one life to another, I find myself contemplating my price.”

A little something I wrote back in 2011 – On March 23rd, to be exact …

“Often times, we find our reflection in unexpected places.  We find our hearts travel to unknown territory, but somehow … our heart chooses to stay.  Within that unknown place.  Sometimes, it costs us a tragic loss, or the threat of one … to prioritize.  To reach within .. so deeply within … that our discoveries are unexpected.  Even to us.  Have you ever ran the risk of losing yourself?  To the hand of another?  To the emotion of another?  With the intent to save another … from themselves?  I have.  It usually ends in the same fashion as how it began.  Only, in the end … the realization of all our relationships we’ve tarnished, all the time that has passed, and all the self-respect we have lost … in that process.  Of saving them, instead of ourselves.  Love is sometimes so forbidden and almost cynical, at times.  As if to present itself to you … and then to ask for your soul in exchange.  I’ve come to the realization that I may never know the love that others speak of so fondly.  That in this lifetime – The opportunity may not arise.  All I know is how deeply I miss you.  How deeply I miss the sunlight dancing across your face …”

This poem was written on July 19, 2007 … “Dare I Ask?”

Dare I ask to hold your hand

And walk you through your sorrow?

How is it that we ended

Up here …

Hoping for a new tomorrow.

My tears get lost within

Your haste

Within the poison I refuse

To taste.

Dare I ask to hold you hand

And help you to heal your heart?

How is it that we ended

Up here ..

Blaming each other for falling apart.

My words get shattered within

Your haste

Within the poison I refuse

To taste.

Dare I ask to hold your hand

And share with you my dreams?

How is it that we ended

Up here ….

Filling the air with violent screams.

My heart gets torn,

And a little tethered within

Your haste

Within the poison I refuse

To taste.

Dare I ask to hold your hand

And lead us to our desires?

How is it that we ended

Up here ….

Dodging the raging fire.

My soul gets lost within

Your haste

Within the poison I refuse

To taste.

 

This is a poem I wrote on June 21, 2010.

“But, Not By Me”

In the face of failure,

Fear handed us our altered perception

Of truth,

Of belief,

Of promises,

Of love,

Of you,

And of me.

Perhaps through my tears,

You’ll learn to find your way.

Perhaps through my words,

You will learn to not burden

My heart –

And you’ll choose not to stay.

Perhaps through your poison,

I’ll learn how to reclaim

My soul.

Perhaps through your words,

I’ll learn how to not be

Played for your

Fool.

Your poison continues to

Suffocate my trust in you

And my belief in us.

Your promises remain empty

With insincerity.

Your love is

Conditional – at best.

And without you ..

There is no me.

Or

So you think.

My existence

No longer resides

In your hands.

My heart

No longer depends

On your love.

Our dreams no longer

Intertwine.

As I search for

The perfect shooting star

To place my hopes

Upon.

Once again.

My heart

Was misguided under

Your negative influence

And opinion of me.

The words you speak.

Your poison.

And the secrets

You’ve chosen to keep.

Perception.

In the face of failure,

Is altered,

But, not by me.

Did you not see

My tears?

Did you not hear

Your words?

Did you not see

My love?

Did you not hear

Your lies?

Perception.

In the face of failure,

It is altered.

But, not by me.