Invisible Warrior

The silence of the night swallows your screams

Nobody hears you

Every effort to move your laden limbs are futile

No one sees your struggle

You reach your hand to grasp one in danger

They slip right through your fingers

Cries of desperation echo back

They are swallowed by ears of stone

A flood of tears threaten to drown you

You cry alone

Instinctual fears cinch your heart

No one shows concern

               Pleas of urgent needs pour from your soul

               No credence given

               You are an invisible warrior

               The battle rages,

but your eyes are the only ones that see.

 There are people all around you, how can this be?

Every effort is made to make you doubt that which

cannot be explain... You. Just. Know!

Without the help of others, you battle on,

because that's what invisible warriors do.

              

The Bitter Sweet Taste of Change

Seth catches the garter

One of our boys got married this week. Not one of My boys, but one of the boys that feels like mine (does that make any sense at all). I was doing just fine until the music started and then the tears took over and the chill bumps ran up and
down my arms. How could it be that they are all grown up adults now,taking wives and having children? It's absolutely what you're shooting for when you
become a parent, to see your children grow into functioning adults, but then watching it actually happen, rips a tiny bit of your heart out. I had this sudden urge to stand up and shout "Stop! Let's rewind back a few
years when you were just a wee one and let me pinch your cheeks again." Yeah, that wouldn't be inappropriate at all at a friends wedding, so I sat there biting my tongue until I was pretty sure a steady stream of crimson blood was running down my chin, but no, it was just tears. Sweet, bitter, happy and sad tears, all at the same time. Life is truly a complex mixture of

all of the above and it leaves a salty taste on your lips as you
kiss the past goodbye and smile hopefully into the eyes of forever.

What Is That in The Driveway?!?!?

Yesterday I had one of those most embarrassing "You're a bad Mom" moments. I've had a lot of those over the last 28 years. I was sitting at break enjoying a game of brick breaker on my cell phone, listening to my co-workers chat about this and that. I wasn't paying close attention, just enough attention to add my wisdom when and where I thought it seemed appropriate (so mostly I was sitting there with my mouth shut). The subject turned to school activities, when one of the girls asked me what grade my youngest was going to be next year. hmmm, uhhh, regardless of how hard I thought, I couldn't remember. Than one of them asked... "Was last year his first year of high school?" I know I had to have looked stunned when I said... "I don't remember anything about his school year last year." and they certainly looked stunned. Hey! I was trying to recover from that stupid head injury! The rest of the afternoon I sat at my desk trying to dig out some remnant of memory I had about school last year. Notta, zip, zilch! And The World's Worst Mother Award goes to...... Me. On their death beds Mothers are suppose to remember every pet name you had for every little thing. They are suppose to remember the month, hour and second of when you got your first hair cut and have snippets of hair with details of the event written up and preserved for your childrens childrens children to read. Any yes, Moms are suppose to remember what grade you are currently in regardless of how much of their brain is or isn't functioning. That's just what is expected of good Moms (insert pouty face here). When I replayed break for my husband after work, he wrapped his arms around me and tenderly assured me that I was a good Mom (in spite of my pitiful memory... my words not his). This morning I hesitated at the breakfast table while I was on my way out the door. I reminded my husband that our baby boy (who is currently a sophomore in high school), would be headed to Oklahoma City to work with his brother at The Plant Stand after school, and that he would be gone all weekend. This is his first out of town trip by himself and I am a little uncertain about it. He carefully ran over all the reasons why everything would be fine and why this would be a good experience, then asked me what I thought.... "Well, I don't even think he should be allowed to drive because he's just a little baby.... That's what I think!" He laughed and said it did seem like just yesterday when he would pick him up from daycare and give him little Star Wars characters as an afternoon surprise. He's growing up and we have to start letting go. "Fine, just fine!" I thought as I walked out the front door. I may not be the best Mom in the world but I'm pretty certain that if I lay prostrate in the driveway so he would either have to run over me to leave or just stay home this weekend, that he likes me enough not to floorboard it and plow over my pitiful self. But then again, I'm not really certain I should take that chance. Ugh, being a Mom.... even a mediocre Mom is difficult.

The Power of Love

We enjoyed a beautiful, although hot weekend. My son and his two best friends opened a seasonal flower shop (The Plant Stand). We went to see how things were going and of course to pick up some flowers for the front flower bed. They were busy little bees buzzing around taking care of customers and their plants. It was quite heartwarming to see them doing what they've always said they wanted to do.... Have a business together. My son gestured to his shorts, tee shirt, and flip flops and said... "This is my working attire." with a big grin. Indeed, the boy has never had a desire to hold a job that required him to wear shoes. I'll admit that I'm as green thumbless as a person can be. There is a large brick planter I acquired when I began working where I now work. When I started there was a huge tree (of sorts), and some fern things planted in it. They weren't thriving, but they were alive (were being the key word there). After everything was dead and gone I could work guilt free because I had nothing struggling to survive in my area... Until.... The other day a co-worker noted.... "Oh, you planted plants!" Hmm, no I really

No shoes, no problem

didn't, but heaven help the person who did. Why would someone do that do me? The culprit was found and will be severely punished by being the one responsible for the, well whatever is required to keep them alive. That being said, I had to buy plants from my son. A few years ago for Mother's Day he brought me a trunk full of flowers and built a flower bed. The fact that I diligently watered, fed, and maintained the flowers through the season, speaks volumes about the power of a Mother's love. I'm hoping the fact that I bought the plants from him will give me the same determination to keep these alive as well. I did find that shopping for plants for a sunny flower bed is much more enjoyable than the actual planting of said plants in the Oklahoma hot weather. I guess it's like a lot of things in life... The thinking of doing it is more fun than the actual work of doing it. But love conquers all things and I'm hoping that includes my greenless thumb condition.