Saturday, December 31, 2016

A New Year... A New Year of Letting Go...

NEW YEARS EVE. Balloons. Bubbly. Noisemakers. Countdown. Confetti. Reflection. Resolutions.

As you end this year and move onto the NEW, yours might include all or none of these.

For those that are of the mindset to ruminate some on the year past and look forward to the year ahead… I AM WITH YOU.

What has gone right?

What has gone wrong?

What you would like to change?

One right off the cuff for me is that I only had one blog post this year. ONE. Quite disappointing. Well, now two. No better.

I am a firm believer in the “letting go” concept. It doesn’t have to be a person. It can be anything holding you back or taking up too much “space.” An old idea, tendency, habit, fear, belief. If it’s not working for you… “LET IT GO.”

I have used the below passage over the years and it is one of my favorites. There were times in the past I truly “needed” the power of these words and others, like now, it was just a nice reminder.

I share it with all of you and wish you a year free of at least one “old” and one filled with many wonderful “news!”



There are people who can walk away from you. And hear me when I tell you this! When people can walk away from you: let them walk.

I don't want you to try to talk another person into staying with you, loving you, calling you, caring about you, coming to see you, staying attached to you. I mean hang up the phone. When people can walk away from you let them walk. Your destiny is never tied to anybody that left.

The Bible said that, they came out from us that it might be made manifest that they were not for us. For had they been of us, no doubt they would have continued with us. [1 John 2:19] 

People leave you because they are not joined to you. And if they are not joined to you, you can't make them stay.

Let them go.

And it doesn't mean that they are a bad person it just means that their part in the story is over. And you've got to know when people's part in your story is over so that you don't keep trying to raise the dead.

You've got to know when it's dead.

You've got to know when it's over. Let me tell you something. I've got the gift of good-bye. It's the tenth spiritual gift, I believe in good-bye. It's not that I'm hateful, it's that I'm faithful, and I know whatever God means for me to have He'll give it to me. And if it takes too much sweat I don't need it. Stop begging people to stay.

Let them go!!

If you are holding on to something that doesn't belong to you and was never intended for your life, then you need to . . . . . . . .


If you are holding on to past hurts and pains . . . . . . . . .


If someone can't treat you right, love you back, and see your worth . . . . . . . .


If someone has angered you . . . . . . . .


If you are holding on to some thoughts of evil and revenge . . . . . . . .


If you are involved in a wrong relationship or addiction . . . . . . . .


If you are holding on to a job that no longer meets your needs or talents . . . . . . . . .


If you have a bad attitude . . . . . . . .


If you keep judging others to make yourself feel better . . . . . . . .


If you're stuck in the past and God is trying to take you to a new level in Him . . . . . . . .


If you are struggling with the healing of a broken relationship . . . . . . . .


If you keep trying to help someone who won't even try to help themselves . . . . . . . .


If you're feeling depressed and stressed . . . . . . . .


If there is a particular situation that you are so used to handling yourself and God is saying "take your hands off of it," then you need to . . . . . . . .


Let the past be the past Forget the former things. GOD is doing a new thing for 2017!!!


Get Right or Get Left. think about it, and then . . . . . . . .


Thursday, March 3, 2016

Sending Birthday Wishes to Heaven

I believe in the power of words.

Words put to “paper,” that once read can so deeply touch you that you look at things differently. You are altered. Changed. Changed in that moment. Changed… perhaps forever.

I have read something that undeniably gripping, and I am now compelled to share it with you.

May I introduce you to my beautiful friend Cindi, her equally beautiful words and her heartrending yet uplifting story.   

"My first born briefly graced this world 22 years ago... TODAY. 

My beautiful Nathan Lawrence. 

All 8 lbs 9 oz of him. 

With a head full of golden hair and such soft kissable cheeks. I remember the moment he was placed in my arms... my world stood still, and I was in total awe of him. 

I fell hard, so hopelessly in love. 

The love was greater than the pain of facing this unfathomable loss. 

I studied his face and breathed him in. I remember every little unique feature. It is burned into my vision and imprinted on my heart for the rest of my days. 

It was my dream come true and my worst nightmare running parallel in the same moment. 

Hello and goodbye became one in the same on March 4, 1994. 

What was supposed to be the most magical and amazing moment of a young mother's life, took a shocking turn and somehow morphed itself into planning a funeral. 

Such a tiny white casket, cradling the most precious person in my world. 

My head is still reeling in it all. Life, as I knew it, would never be the same. 

The only thing he changed was EVERYthing. 

Each one of the past 8,035 days... I have loved him, imagined him here, gazed upon the empty spot at the kitchen table with an unspoken ache in my heart. 

But, out of sight is never out of mind to me. 

It's just not easy to have all this love for my child, and no place to 'put it'. And nothing to 'talk about' regarding the events of his life. 

So on his birthday I have a burning desire to speak his name to the world. Well, at least to my friends... 

(So thank you for listening, it is important to me) 

This year he would (probably) be a senior in college, and stepping out into the world as the unique individual he was called to be. Perhaps a businessman, teacher, artist, musician, health care professional, NBA star :) 

I know he would have had a lot to contribute to this world.... 

Yet, for reasons unknown, he wasn't destined for it. 

22 years later, all the questions still linger so heavily in the air. 

Like, why was he created so perfectly, so beautifully... and placed in my waiting arms, only for him to be ripped away from me, to be taken onward to another realm of life where I don't get the privilege of seeing his face, hearing his voice, watching him grow, celebrating his milestones, as any mother should? 

Why would our creator so graciously give such a miraculous gift of life, just to take it right back... before it had a chance to really begin? 

Why would the universe hand pick our family to do this to? 

An innocent baby facing his own mortality seems so unnatural, so cruel... especially since, as his Mom, I should have been able to protect him from anything that tried to hurt him. Really leaves me feeling like I failed him. I hope he knows I would have taken a bullet for him, or walked through fire for him. I would have laid my life down for the chance for him to live one day. 

No mother should have to surrender her child back to God, it just all seems so wrong. 

I believe a big part of me will wander around aimlessly for the rest of my life, searching for a truth I know I will never find. 

But one thing IS certain - my boy is LOVED - from the moment I squealed in delight at the plus sign on my pregnancy test, until this very moment today. I love him unconditionally, as any mother loves her child. No different than if he was here. 

His life, although short but sweet, mattered.. and it changed mine forever. 

Because of him, I care more deeply - probably even to a fault. 

I take nothing for granted, not even a single breath. 

I don't assume that I will see a loved one again, and I don't talk about 'someday'.... as life offers zero guarantees, and our time walking this planet is quite limited, and should be held sacred. We are all on borrowed time, and all we have is the moment we're in. 

I have become ultra sensitive, my heart literally bleeds for people who are hurting. And at the same time, I celebrate the 'good stuff' of life on a much higher level since he came into my life. If I love someone, I love deeply and without abandon - and I show them - I never keep them guessing or allow them to doubt how much they mean to me, knowing they could be gone in the blink of an eye without a minute's warning. 

Sometimes my vulnerability gets me hurt, but it won't stop me. I choose not to live in regret, which allows my heart a certain freedom. 

But I do have to admit, some days I am stone cold bitter when I contemplate all I lost, ughhh.... but most days I consciously choose to embrace life's blessings with everything I've got. 

Life is in vain if is not celebrated. 

I want to make my boy proud of the fact that I don't take a single day (that he was denied, yet I was given) for granted. 

I enjoy the simple things... just a walk in the park, or taking in a sunset, or a family dinner... and I am on top of the world. 

Material things mean nothing to me - life experiences with people I love mean everything. 

Part of me died along with Nathan that day, yet part of me awakened to a new light once the fog lifted.

He taught me that life is a precious gift - yet, it is imperfect, painful, chaotic, unfair, mysterious, incredibly fragile, fleeting... but above all, it is beautiful. 

The only thing we can control is our attitude, so it's best to just make the best hand of the cards we are dealt. Best laid plans go haywire sometimes, gotta just roll with the punches. 

He taught me an inner strength I never knew I had, and makes me realize that I am equipped with whatever tools I need to face life's challenges. Some days I feel like a ninja, and I smile and I thank him for that! 

He taught me a love like I've never known. Who knew that love could be that powerful and profound, even when the separation of death attempted to alter our mother/son bond. Not a chance - time has NO power over love. Actually, nothing has power over love. 

All these valuable life lessons taught to me by one special little boy, MY boy, in such a brief little window of time. 

To deny his existence to avoid feeling the pain, would be living a lie, because he is such a big part of who I am. 

Although losing him is an unexplainable ache I silently live with every day of my life, and yes, the tears still frequently fall... I would never change a single thing about mothering him, because it was an honor to grow him under my heart and love him with a depth I had never known before him. 

And yes, there is even beauty to be found in surrendering him back to God (not that I wanted to). 

I think he is pretty amazing and special, and no doubt he has a definitive purpose in this universe. 

I don't know, maybe he makes the stars shine, or the rain showers fall, or the waves tumble over the shoreline, or the flowers bloom... or, maybe he is an artist who paints rainbows. :) But I never doubt that my son has special purpose and lives on. He was created with purpose beyond my understanding. 

I feel him. 

We get signs from him. Whenever his sister, Brittany, tells me about a moment when she knew her brother was there by her side, it makes my heart swell. 

He is alive and well in our hearts. 

I envision every little detail of his face through the years, and I know I will find out someday that I was spot on. A Mom just 'knows.' He surely is a handsome guy with his Dad's dimpled chin, Paul Newman blue eyes, and with a smile that could light up the world, much like his sister Brittany. 

And I believe that him and I would share the same heart because the connection I feel to him is quite profound. 

22 is a special number to me for so many reasons, and maybe that is why I am so introspective this year on his birthday. 

22 years.... just, wow. 

Taking the day off today with my family to go get lost somewhere, and just be together in honor and remembrance of our special guy. He will always be an integral part of our family who we acknowledge, celebrate, and love very deeply. 

Time will never change that, even another 22 years from now... and 22 years beyond that. 

He is my ever after, my little piece of heaven. 

Nothing can take that away from me."



Monday, November 16, 2015

Support, Solidarity For Paris, For Humanity

Logging on to social media can be good. It can be bad. And it can be downright ugly.

I’ve seen more than one post ranting about why are “we” supporting France/changing our profile pictures to the French flag because the “French hate Americans,” etc. This is, simply, FALSE. I’m sure there are some French that do, just as there are some Americans who hate the French (as demonstrated by said tirades). Nonetheless, it is this same bias, prejudice, discrimination and animosity that fuels the hate-crime “mindset.” It is also not true that all Muslims are terrorists, that all blacks are criminals, that all college graduates are arrogant, that “all Italians should be hated,” or any of the other generalizations, ad nauseam, that I’ve heard over the years. How are “these” attitudes any better than those that caused the atrocity in Paris?

This is a quote from the company I work for (a global company with businesses in France) about the events in Paris, “It is, therefore, with great sadness that I report that this tragedy has touched ‘our’ family directly. An employee and his wife were among those who lost their lives Friday night in Paris. They leave behind an 18-month-old baby."

THIS is why we should and need to support France. For this now parent-less young child and for anyone else effected.

I don’t understand how we are not supposed to care?! Why should we not care?! It’s called COMPASSION. It is heart-wrenching to me that some do not instinctively have this quality.

It was with true horror that I watched the news after the 9/11 attacks and witnessed people cheering.


Cheering at death?

Cheering at father-less, mother-less children?

Cheering at the pain and suffering of others?

Cheering at the heartbreak and mourning of an individual, a family, an entire nation?

While “you” might not be “cheering” at the deaths that occurred in the tragic events in Paris, you are not empathetic or even sympathetic. It rests easy on your mind and heart because “they hate us anyway” or any other rationalization for your abhorrence of an entire group of people. This produces the same kind of “horror” deep within me.

To care and show concern for others is what makes us human and we need to do this regardless of where a person was born, the color of their skin, their sexual orientation, or anything else that one can single out as being distain-worthy.

To the 18-month old baby... I am praying for you... America is praying for you.

"Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that." - Martin Luther King

Saturday, August 30, 2014

Live Well, Laugh Often, Love Much and Donate Life

I have always supported the idea of organ donation. 

I’m registered. 

It’s on my driver’s license. 

I have a green “DONATE LIFE” wristband and a pin somewhere. 

The thought that one day, when I’m oh so geriatric and have squeezed out every ounce of life I could possibly manage, one of my organs could potentially give someone a second chance at life is pretty miraculous and humbling. Sign me up.

The whole organ donation thing hit close to home and became even more of a phenomenon when I learned that my niece, Nicole, was to become a LIVING donor. LIVING. She is donating a kidney to her father on September 16th.

Gamut of emotions. Pride. Fear. Hope.

I became Nicole’s aunt when I was a senior in high school. I went on to Cleveland State after graduation. Often I dragged a toddler Nicole along with me. Willingly or not, she went to the book store with me. She went to the library with me. She looked adorable sporting the miniature Vikings sweatshirt I bought her with her famous teeny tiny high and tight pigtails. She was right there with me when I studied. And I do mean RIGHT. THERE. WITH. ME. Like, literally, hanging onto my leg. I wanted to be aggravated, but then she’d start humming or singing or acting cute and I just couldn’t. Damn her.

I’m quite proud or embarrassed to say, not sure which, perhaps both, that I probably inadvertently taught the girl her very first swear word.

She was my little side kick.

I gave myself all kinds of kudos and accolades back in the day that I was a good aunt.

Even given all of that, Nicole was eating some ice cream once. I mean digging into it and loving it. I said, “Boy Nicole that looks really good, can I have a bite?” Without missing a beat or even so much as lifting her head from that bowl, she stated clearly and without hesitation, “GET. YOUR. OWN.”

She has come a long way from those youthful bouts of stinginess. She HAS  learned to share. She has. Soooo much so… that she is now going to share her spare. She is going to donate a kidney. Whoa. That’s a way bigger deal than just letting me have a spoonful of a dairy treat.

With all that said and still pretty high up there, for me anyways, I truly believe with all my heart, that if I asked her nicely today, she would give me some of her ice cream.

Sharing is caring! You are a hero Nicole. We love you!

Please consider being an organ and tissue donor and giving the gift of hope.   

Monday, June 30, 2014

Give a Penny, Take a Penny

The glass is half full.

A negative mind will never give you a positive life.

Happiness is a choice.

Yadda, yadda, yadda.

While I very much pride myself on being a positive person I came to the sad realization that my “positivity bank account” has slowly been depleting. My cup that I am almost always touting as overflowing was being spilled and I wasn’t refilling it fast enough.

Deposits? Fewer going in. Withdrawals? Ample and frequent as of late.

“Things” happen and happened and my cup fell below the half way marker.

People have made emotional withdrawals from my personal account yet did not make any deposits in return.

While still counting and appreciating all the blessings I do have, the cumulative effect of the withdrawals were starting to take its toll. Little Miss Sunshine? Eh. Not so much. Perhaps Little Miss Partly Cloudy. Only a recent and short bout of cloudiness, but, nonetheless, I prefer the sun.

I had an old bank account that I never closed. The balance? One cent. Literally. One cent. I closed that account today and I was handed the newest, shiniest, brightest penny I have ever seen. My mood, which was really not all that bad to begin with, immediately changed. I was filled with optimism, hope, thoughts of new beginnings.

One single cent deposit replenished my bank account. One solitary penny. I’m rich.

Avoid overdrafts. Take advantage of opportunities to make deposits, large and small, into to your accounts and every person that is important to you. Do not take out more than you put in. Always top it off.

Negative comments and treatment can suck the life out of even the healthiest of bank accounts.

So I’m sharing my penny. There’s plenty to go around. Give a penny, take a penny. Right? 

Actually, give a few pennies before you take a single one. You’ll never be sorry. 

May your bank accounts runneth over. 

Sunday, May 4, 2014

Thoughts From A Jawbreaker

Wanna know a little fun fact about this slacker blogger? I broke my jaw 3 years ago. Very run-of-the-mill injury? Amirght? Nothing interesting here. Move along.

Yeah, that’s my mouth. Wired shut. TIGHT. And that’s my very own iced-out grillz. You like?

OK. So I added the “SS” mouth jewelry for this little story, but I was feeling quite bling-bling, hip-hop and all back in the day. Word.

Oh, the posts I could write on the unusual things that go along with having your teeth semi-permanently laced together with razor-sharp metal bars and titanium twine. Not titanium? Whatever. Nevertheless, when the maxillofacial oral surgeon says you are going to be “wired shut,” your teeth will be on LOCK DOWN. Trust me!

So I’ll pass for now on the story of when they unleashed me for the first time to have a looksie at the state of my still fractured chomper. I was positive at that moment, positive, that my jaw was going to fall off my face. Luckily, I caught it and held it gingerly in place before it plopped down onto the floor. Whew.

I also will not tell you about diligently trying to insert a pipe cleaner in spaces between my teeth (I have none) so I could do a pseudo brushing. Not at all embarrassed to say how many hours were spent on this fruitless task.

Never did I wish for a “trap-door tooth” in all that time. Had I one, however, I could sneak in a toothbrush and use it on the INSIDE of my mouth. I could also pass through some real food that would not and could not be sucked through my teeth. Lived on liquids and air. Even airflow seemed to stop and bounce off my shiny grillz. A little air here please. But again I say, never did I wish for wish for a “trap-door tooth,” people. Never. That’s just silly.

Also will be bypassing this gem – being hit on and the guy questioning me, “Why would you do that to yourself? You are already so thin?” Yes, schmoozy & brilliant man, this was an ELECTIVE surgery?!?

TODAY marks the third anniversary of the day that I was freed from the wires that binded me for nearly 11 weeks. Free at last! Free at last!  

Breaking my jaw reminded me of and confirmed a few things that I truly believe and these items I AM going to share with you here: 

1)         A kind or supportive word makes a difference. There is always a ripple effect. Pay it forward.

2)         Don’t underestimate the magnitude of a small thoughtful gift. A lone milkshake, a box of plastic spoons, a bag of straws, or some fancy-dancy toothpick flossers can mean the world to someone!

3)         It really is the small things in life! It’s amazing how an unrestrained yawn, an unbounded sneeze, freshly brushed teeth, or simply licking your lips can bring you joy! Don’t take the little things for granted.

4)         Laughter is good for the soul… a merry heart is a happy heart! Laugh even through clenched teeth if you must. It truly is the best medicine.

5)         Having not much choice but to smile, as it was somewhat of a permanent fixture on my face, smiling can change your mood and is contagious. Smile often & smile big! It might not be quite as large and shiny as mine used to be… but it will make someone’s day… and probably yours, as well.

I was thankful for all the large and small gestures I received. Overwhelmed really.

I’m reliving that gratitude today and am wishing all of you days filled with kind words, small wonders, countless laughs, and happy smiling faces!  

I also wish you days free from clumsy mishaps. One can really hurt themselves.
Be careful out there!

Saturday, February 8, 2014

Strawberry Fields For NEVER

Don’t have a Valentine this year? Sad about it? I’m here to change all of that nonsense for you.

Sherrie Sherrie at your service. You are welcome.

I posted a blog a while back, Yellow Flag on the Turf and on my “Date,” and many were entertained at my expense. I’m going to repeat that process as a little Valentine’s Day present. My gift to all of you. Muah.

1)      You can not say you didn’t receive anything this year.
2)      You will be thankful and grateful you aren’t with someone like this.
3)      You will laugh and smile and be merry! This is my wish for you!

So this here will be the highlight reel of a texting voyage of epic proportions I shared with a guy suggested to me by a mutual friend. I have coined this man Dr. Field Good.

This mobile rendezvous with the good “Doctor” lasted a whopping 2 ½ days. A short time, yes. Nevertheless, it journeyed me down roads of wackadoodle that I wish to never have to travel down again. **Shudder** NEVER. EVER.

I certainly don’t want to ruin a great story for lack of embellishment, but won’t inundate you with each of the nearly 200 messages that transpired. Please note, that less than 30% of these texts were my own. When you factor in that some of his texts were so lengthy they would count as 6 or 7 by normal standards, it’s clear the Doctor doesn’t realize that texting is supposed to be more of a volley. Lob one up, get a reply, lather, rinse, repeat, etc.  

Day one of this ride was “relatively” normal in terms of people initially chatting. Relatively, here, really does need the “air quotes.” Please use them accordingly. 

The first 12 hours included numerous quirky pictures: (1) him on a horse, (2) the “easy button,” (3) his knee, (4) his professional headshot, (5) him riding in a cardboard car, (6) a kitten (and not his own, just a cutesy girlie internet one), (7) the plastic divider thingy from a grocery store check out line, and (8) the threshold of his front door. Your typical run-of-the-mill let's get to know one another images to share? Amiright?!? {{Scratching head}}

Day 2 started early. 8:00 a.m.

Sweet, but after less than 24 hours, it’s a little too early to be getting the good morning Babe texts.

Slammed at work; I respond to the initial text, however, not to the stream of ones that followed for nearly 3 hours. Dr. Field Good wasn’t feeling too good about the lag in my response and questioned whether he had “done something wrong?”

This is code for “Are you Fing kidding me here with this?!?!” A day and half and there is an expectation on text turnaround time.

A bit later, my infrequency of communication is again in question.

The trip is already over for me at this point. The rental car is turned in. The suitcase is unpacked. I'm just searching for the energy to respond.

Day 3 starts off even earlier, 7:30 a.m.

Ah, yes. This “game” is called common sense to most. I know it well and play it often. 

But wait, there’s more. Field Good wants to play even more "games." This time a "silly" one. What fun?!

Ummmmm…. What'chu talkin' 'bout, Willis?

Is this fence you speak of the way out of this imaginary hell? If so I’m running for it full steam ahead. Get outta my way Buddie!

Not only do I NOT want to play this fruit fantasy, in one fell swoop the doctor may have ruined strawberries for me for life. No lie. For life. A strawberry might never touch these lips again.

Annnndddd… I’m OUT!

The barrage of texts that follow over the course of the next several hours, well, there really are no words.

Really?! Pulling out the “brought together” card after only texting for a flash in the dating pan?

 Ya think perhaps? Hhhhmmm? Yeah, maybe, just a teeny tiny little bit on the dramatic side.

It's a major award! Times three. Congratulations going out to the doctor. (A picture of one of his inventions was included for good measure)

Well, I’m kinda leaning towards “not,” but do you “promise?” Do you pinky swear promise? If not, it doesn’t count. 

Somewhere this has switched over from a courting attempt to an audition for a variety hour. At best his humor never surpassed corny. Corn Dog Award. Now his fourth major award.

Endless more unanswered texts and an invite for "one meeting in a coffee shop" later:

Annnndddd… I’m OUT! For the second time.

Give it up to the Doc for persistence and his ability to perform a full emotional analysis on me all whilst not missing a beat on the fast fingered texting:

Oh nooooo heeee di-int.  **Finger snap snap snap in “Z” formation**

So not even close.

These 25 people? Were they tied up at the time? 

Love. This. Chick. High-five sane woman, whoever and wherever you are. Us girls gotta stick together. 

Dr. Feel Good and 2 other doctors walk into a bar...

Text onslaught continues. I received at least 12 phone screen sized "pages" going over the details, ad nauseam, of previous messages, schooling me on what he believes to be proper texting etiquette in these kinds of situations, and much mention of actions, thoughts, opinions "as a man." 

Annnndddd… I’m OUT! Third and FINAL out. 

Oh right. Now he's out??! 'Bout time. And awww man, I'm both deleted and blocked. Sad face. 

I will adamantly reject the fact that I am angry or have any barriers. Nonetheless, if it keeps me away from people that are loco in noco like this? Then bring them ON.  Barriers are my friend. Barriers = BFF. 

So single gals & guys out there, think of Dr. Field Good here and be happy with your singledom. Embrace your life, your barriers, your worth. Don’t compromise what you want, need, like… the gamut. You deserve it all. And you owe no one an apology for that.

Let’s all make a simple toast. 

Raise your glasses friends… raise them high and repeat after me...

“Strawberry Fields For NEVER!”


Feels good.

“Strawberry Fields For NEVER!”


Happy Valentine’s Day Loves! Never settle for an imaginary field of strawberries when you deserve so much more than that. It's the real deal or nothing. Don't ever forget that. xxxooo


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