If You Hadn’t Been Born…
My darling man, On this day, 51 years ago, you were born. You were LATE and made your sweet mama miserable with the heaviness and the waiting, but then you were here and in her arms and all was well. And you cried and wailed and carried on, until your grandpa went and bought your mom a rocker to try to soothe your sweet self and get you to pipe down. You grew into an adorable little boy with giant blue eyes and sweet curls on top of your head, but there was a twinkle of mischief in your eye and you were always up for a challenge. "Sure you can discipline me!" you would say; "You've just got to catch me first!" And off you would run. I believe it was about this time that your mama...
Bare
An old friend contacted me yesterday. I hadn't been in communication with this person over the years, so I didn't know what had transpired in their life, or what road they had taken. After some really kind words, the reality of a struggle with addiction was revealed. Simple. Honest. Real. I thought about them the rest of the day. It takes a lot of bravery to be open about a struggle. Sadly, though, people often don't know how to act when something hard is revealed, so the person who has risked the telling is often met with judgement or disdain. It makes me think of a little wall plaque I saw once that said this: Don't judge me because I sin differently than you do. Yeah. I think we...
Every Day
I was blown away yesterday. I think most people who enjoy social media understand the phenomenon that is the Facebook birthday celebration, but yesterday was more than I've ever experienced. My phone app literally blew up, making the app "freeze" to the point of having to restart the phone. It was incredible. Now, I don't say this to make you think I have thousands of fans and admirers; I don't. I don't say it to make myself seem super popular, either. I say it because I was humbled by the experience. I was humbled that people would stop and take time out of the day to give me a simple wish for happiness. Me. Many don't know me all that well, and some, not really at all. Yet, they...
Letter to My 18-year-old Self
Dear 18-Year-Old me, Happy birthday, honey. It's okay for me to call you "honey," because I'm quite a bit older than you, now, and that's what I call the young people in my life. Especially those I care about, which obviously includes you. You've been waiting for this birthday, haven't you? So excited to be 18, since the rest of your class has already turned that magical number, and you, being one of the youngest, are finally bringing up the rear. In fact, there you are celebrating on campus at Southwest Texas, the week before classes start. (You won't believe this, but they don't call it that now. Texas State. Go figure.) You're there, out on your own, and the world is your oyster....
Beyond Yourself
Just after we first moved back to Texas, I was sitting in a nail salon. My Vietnamese technician didn't speak any English, and for whatever reason, wasn't much in the mood to try to communicate. It was okay, though, because, sitting next to me, there was a younger tech who spoke very well, who was in a lively conversation with an equally lively older woman. That woman was Texan through and through, and her accent was as thick and rich as her younger counterpart. Their conversation filled the room... "Where you live you grow up?" "Oh honey, I grew up out in the oil country of Midland-Odessa. I moved here to Fort Worth when I married back in '52." "You married long time!" "Yes ma'am!...