More Than Momma

Last year, just weeks before Christmas, our home caught fire. Giant fire. Nothing we did or anyone else caused this.  No act of God. No arson or silly mistake. It just was. The loss was nothing like any other loss I have ever experienced. Death, even the most tragic of incidents I have experienced, are a part of life.  Everyone dies, even when you are not ready for it or it makes no sense. You can't always prepare, but deep down you know it is coming for us all. Hurricanes?  I am a master of prepping for these. Grab what you can. Protect the rest the best you can. Get out and wait. I have never lost more than pieces and parts of my home to these so maybe the full weight of their power and devastation are lost on me. You can prepare away, but deep down you know that the chances of a catastrophic direct hit are not that great when you weigh out the odds over all hurricanes we might see. I am not trying to make light of these and other catastrophes at all. I am guessing what...

 It has been a minute...or actually over a year...since I have taken the time to sit down and write. It has been lost on me the freedom that I felt, releasing my heart on the "pages" of this venue, but I have needed it so. But life took over. It has been a minute since I prioritized the things that have helped me to find peace, my daily practices that saved only for me. But life took over. It has been a minute since I utilized the tools that I have in my toolkit to manage the stress and calm the anxieties that spin through my soul. I LET life take over. It has been a minute since I took control over my day to day rather than letting the days dictate me. Now, I am working to take my life back over. It is a minute at a time. A day at a time. But my life is mine not the culmination of things that occur around me. Hoping for a minute each day to create a series of moments until I am back where I want to be.

 My Grandmother never really shared too many details about her childhood with me. Well actually nothing about her childhood at all. I know where she worked as a young teen and into young adulthood. I have seen pictures, a few, of her in those years with family.  I never knew how impoverished she and her family were. I only knew of the love story that brought her family to America. A story that I have learned through much research into Jewish genealogy could be true or could be lore.  Regardless, I find it fascinating. The Love Story My great-grandparents were born in Austria.  The town that they actually lived in no longer exists as it was back then. It was wiped out during World War II after they had already immigrated to New York via Ellis Island. But they did not come on their journey together. And the town is not the love story, although it makes for an intriguing scavenger hunt through time and history. The two young people fell in love in their hometown in a ti...

 I have heard, from lots of different folks, that one or all of the above are bogus, fake, or something that weak people say occurred to them.  I am here to call bullshit. Nobody wants to admit that they have been party to any type of abuse- especially that which they have no physical proof. The reality is that some of those who do the abusing, in my opinion, may not realize how or why they are doing what they are being accused of and oftentimes the ones being abused have rationalized through months or years of conditioning, that this abuse is somehow their fault. They have caused this treatment or they deserve what has occurred. Furthermore, in my opinion, since this is difficult to prove- lack of physical evidence- it is very difficult for authorities to take it seriously unless they witness it themselves. Verbal abuse includes but is not limited to: Name-calling, belittling, insulting Threatening or blackmail Gaslighting Patronizing Blame Manipulation through guilt- "If you...

It is really hard for some to understand the decisions that you make, especially if the view that they have of the journey you have had is skewed by their own journey or regrets. I understand.  I have been there. I have come to the point in my life, however, where I must do what is the healthiest for myself and for those that I love: even if that includes disconnecting with some of those same folks.  It is not something that I relish, do out of malice, or am particularly proud of. It just is. Surviving certain situations in my life, and thriving because of them, in spite of them, has made me appreciate and seek a certain level of peace in my life. I know what I want in what I have left on this planet and I know what I choose not to be party to. I call them boundaries yet others may call them something else.  These boundaries I have established for very particular reasons. 1. I am human and have limits.  And that is ok. 2. I am old enough to know what types of things,...

Did you have a parent that you did not always want to be around? Was there one that you just couldn't figure out? Was that parent actually the inferior parent, or were you just needing something from them? As I shared in blog #1  - Let's face it- parenting is one heck of a job.  No instructions. Often little to no support. We are just doing what we think is best.  And sometimes that might make us the favorite parent or the not so favorite one.  I have been both so I reflect on the following with respect and no blame at all. The Not-So Favorite Parent Growing up, my mom was the not-so favorite parent.  This could be attributed to many things.  Mother - daughter relationships always came to mind first but for us it was much more.  My mom had to be the "hold down the fort" parent by the very nature of the circumstances of the times and our lives. For most of my life, my mom was a stay at home mom.  When she did work, it was around my schedule so that...

Did you have a favorite of your parents? Was there one that you wanted to be around more than the other? Was that parent actually better, or were you just needing something from them? Let's face it- parenting is one heck of a job.  No instructions. Often little to no support. We are just doing what we think is best.  And sometimes that might make us the favorite parent or the not so favorite one.  I have been both so I reflect on the following with respect and no blame at all. The Favorite Parent Growing up, my dad was the favorite parent.  This could be attributed to many things.  Daddy - daughter relationships always came to mind first but for us it was much more.  My dad got to be the fun parent by the very nature of the circumstances of the times and our lives. My father worked.  I mean he was seriously a workaholic. This was how he was raised to be and what was expected if he was to support his family and provide more than he had as a child. ...