Tag Archives: Heartache

Ransomed Soul, Redeemed Heart

Magnet Keepsake

Magnet Keepsake

It’s not something I talk about often, but when I do tell people I was born in Havana, Cuba; the first thing they ask is,  “Was your dad in the military?”  When I tell them that he wasn’t, their next comment almost always is, “Why were you born there? You don’t look Cuban!”  With that in mind, I suppose my cousins “look even less Cuban” than I do.  As babies, each of my cousins qualified for any Gerber Baby look-alike contest, with their blond curls and big blue eyes.

My paternal grandparents were directly from Spain. My maternal ancestry is also from Spain with a few drops of French in there somewhere. What most people don’t know is that in 1492, Columbus claimed the island for the Kingdom of Spain. Cuba remained under Spain’s ruling until 1898. Most of the original Native Americans living in Cuba died because they were subjected to harsh slavery, or died from Eurasian diseases. A thousand or so survived, many escaped into the mountains. Thousands were then cruelly ripped from their homes and families in Africa to replace the lost native slaves.  Cuba’s ethnicity is somewhat different from the typical Latin America people imagine. Continue reading

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Filed under Everythingelse, Life with Chronic Pain, Seeds of Inspirations

Forgotten Parents – The Hardest Type of Empty Nest

Forgotten Parents

Forgotten Parents – A New Kind of Empty Nest

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We wiped bottoms and washed faces,

And took our children to many places.

We cut countless meals into tiny bites,

We made it through untold, sleepless nights.

We survived those frightening, terrible twos,

Continue reading

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Filed under Everythingelse, Life with Chronic Pain

Wedding Day Blues

Love Duo

Love Duo

With wedding season up ahead I feel this needs to be said.

Ladies, if you feel that you shouldn’t be getting married to the man you will soon say “I do” to:  

Don’t! 

As I flew to Las Vegas that fateful day years ago, I knew in my heart that was not what I wanted to do.  It was a very tiny wedding at one of Las Vegas’ quaint little chapels. The only people present were the preacher, his wife, two witnesses, my soon to be husband, and me.  The struggle within me was so strong that I nervously giggled through the short walk to the altar and through most of the vows. Continue reading

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Filed under Everydayliving, Life with Chronic Pain

Happy Birthday Son, You’re Not Forgotten

imageThis was published in our local newspaper November 30, 2011

November 30, 2011 is a very heavy day for me. Exactly 28 years earlier,
Jonathan Mathew made his debut into the world weighing in at 8 pounds and 14
ounces. He was nicknamed the ‘flirt’ at our church nursery because of his huge
dimply smiles and constant joyful nature.

As a child he often played with the small children other kids ignored, and helped
little kids learn to skate. Sometimes he gave away his lunch money when
someone forgot theirs. He loved reading, learning, sports and home school.
He was all boy! His love for guns began as a toddler when my mother bought
him a cowboy set of guns with holsters, sheriff badge, hat and boots. He would
have slept with all of it on if allowed to. When he was about nine he wanted a BB
gun as badly as I wanted him to try a different haircut so we worked out a deal.
Here is an essay he wrote about that arrangement in his own words and spelling. Continue reading

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A Memory Life Quilt

I am working on a life quilt in memory of my son Jonathan. At the age of 27
he was involved in a fatal motorcycle accident. I cannot explain what that
kind of loss feels like. It was as if my soul had been ripped from me and
turned inside out. My first prayer was that he hadn’t suffered. God was very
gracious to my son and those left behind. His death was almost
instantaneous. My heart broke when I read the police accident report,
something no parent should do. I got an instant migraine after reading it.
Though he wore a helmet, he had severe head and chest injuries. Had he
survived, it would have been a tough road for him and our family, and for the large
number of close friends he had.image

My son was total testosterone. He loved sports, guns, hunting, motorcycles,
camping, fishing; anything manly. When he was about three years old, he
began emulating his older sisters and their friends. He liked the color pink
so much it didn’t matter if he got cherry, strawberry, raspberry, or bubble
gum flavored ice-cream. When asked which ice-cream he wanted he shouted,
“Pink. I want pink.” Continue reading

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An Unforgettable Deed

I became an unwed mom in the summer of 1980 at 23 years of age. Then my babysitter quit abruptly, leaving me stunned and stranded. I depended on the childcare in order to work my full time job, my only means of support. I drove to my mother’s house and asked if she’d watch my baby until I found another babysitter. Our relationship had been strained as far back in my early childhood as I could remember, but I really believed she’d help me out considering the urgency of the situation. Of all people, I felt sure she would understand. Her mother helped her care for me when I was a baby and she was an unwed mother.

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