Truth!

Sister C and I, met up with Gypsy baby and her wife, Del 

on Monday night. The conversation was good,

yet sometimes turned to things I know little about.

Giving my opinion on politics or religion is

hard as I still wear my rose colored glasses

and still want to see the best in everyone.

I also am a firm believer in

"When someone has a complaint everyone hears it,

but when someone has something good to share they

tend to keep it to themselves. 

I read this post my friend, Camille put on facebook and

I thinks just how real this statement is.

On Monday we talked about what might be after this life.

I share that sometimes I get afraid of leaving this world.

"What if there is nothing after?"

I am not afraid so much of leaving the world but if

my family, my grandgirls will have enough memories to 

sustain me in their hearts, will my children continue to speak

of me after I am gone?

I am reminded of just a few days before, without even thinking

I make a phone call to a dear friend who 

lost her son that morning. I did not think of how hard

that phone call would be, had I, I would have probably texted instead.

I didn't think because I knew I had to speak to her, 

hear her voice, hear her cry, give her words to help her 

through this miserable time.

Sister C, reminds me over her visit just how special I am

to so many. I "Harumph" her away.
"I would never have the courage to call a Mother who lost her son."

Yet I try so hard to do those things that are hard to do,

calling friends I have not spoken to in forever,

being there for my besties, trying to bring out the

best in my children and grand girls without

being too soft. I remember to be silly and a tad weird.

It is who I am, I laugh deep belly laughs at my poor Boo

when he tells me things that he does not see funny.

Well until I have to apologize for my laughter and he laughs too.
He and I discuss tattoo's and I say to him that I just can't see
myself getting one and he says,
"Naw that would mess with your aura"

I often tell him I am such a terrible girlfriend, don't know why

he keeps me around.....

One day he may share why he does, until then I will try

and keep my belly laughs to a minimum.

Then there are the house portraits I have been blessed to do.

With each one, I learn wonderful things, make new friends,

talk of deep things that are hard to talk about and 

I thank my higher power that I am comfortable sharing 

thoughts on hard topics. As I continue to write this book,

I am remembering, finding out so many things about myself.

I will end with the beginning, read what Anthony Hopkins 

so perfectly said and make it something to live by.

Laugh, love, listen, do ...

all those things that make you, you.

Different views on Treasures...

Yes, this happened yesterday....

My Antique Bubble Gum machine that held my buttons,

got knocked down, glass ball broke and

Buttons, Buttons, everywhere.

Vacuuming and the hose knocked it over.

My first reaction was, yes......

"F&^K"

Because that one hurt.

I bought this old bubble gum machine about 10 years ago

at an antique store, had always wanted one and they 

are not easy to find at a price I can afford, so it was a good find.

A few years ago it stopped working so I turned

it into a Button holder.

My second thought was a conversation myself and

DaBoo had just last weekend.

As he enjoys adding to my collection of McCoys Pottery,

he had recently found and added to my collection a few

unique pieces and I was saying I was going to use them.

"You should not use your collections as they could get broken."

Was his response. I realize many have this thought.

Not only does he enjoy adding to this collection but 

finding one of a kind pieces is his favorite.

My thought are different, I explained this to DaBoo.

" What good is having something if you don't use it?

If it gets broken, I will be sad, but using my things

makes me happy. When I die I can't take it with me

but every time I let the grand girls play with my

expensive miniature collection and see their happiness,

memories being made, I am happy.

Every morning when I use my McCoy on my coffee station

I have in the cottage, it makes me happy,

Every time I bake something and it is mixed in a McCoy bowl,

It makes me happy" I also swear by it tasting better.

I didn't change his mind about my views of course,

but he at least knows where I stand.

So, when the bubble gum machine broke, 

my second thought was about the DaBoo and I's conversation

and that maybe he was right.

Yet, as I began to pick up all the buttons, separating

glass from buttons, I realized that this broken glass

would not be wasted as I create with broken glass

beautiful pieces of art. I realized just how many buttons I had

that were not being used down at the bottom of that machine.

Memories of the grandgirls playing in the buttons while

I painted came to mind. When they were in the machine,

they were not able to go through them, finding their favorites,

separating the colors, giving them a fun time while I painted.

We were together in the studio, spending time together,

talking while we all were enjoying our time.

Memories being made.

All of this being positive, but it did not change the fact that

my wonderful bubble gum machine was "Ka-put".

Then I had this idea....

It will become a bird bath in my yard,

or I will use it for a climbing vine. It will be used.

As I began painting later that day,

I realized, I needed that little bit of extra space in the

studio, it is so crowded and I have just a little more space.

So my opinion on using collections, antiques remain the same.

While I respect DaBoo's beliefs, I continue to wear

my rose colored glasses.

I can't take these things with me where I am going after

this life but I can leave memories with those I love.

A Mother is not always birthing a child....

Another Mothers Day has gone and mine was

almost perfect, only one thing could have made it better,

having Gypsy baby and her Wife, Del with us.

As perfect as it was, I had have been having lots of thoughts lately.

A little sad, thinking of My Mom, DaBoo's Mom, Ms. Barb

all spending Mothers Day in whatever life is after this one.

Listening to an audiobook, a famous one,

FAHRENHEIT 450 BY RAY BRADBURY.

As I listen to this after the crawfish boil on Mothers Day,

driving to the boo's house I am hit with a wave of

tears as I hear this paragraph:

"...MY GRANDFATHER DIED...

HE WAS A VERY KIND MAN WHO HAD A LOT OF 

LOVE TO GIVE THE WORLD, AND HE HELPED...

HE MADE TOYS FOR US, DID A MILLION THINGS 

IN HIS LIFETIME... WHEN HE DIED, I SUDDENLY

REALIZED I WAS NOT CRYING FOR HIM AT ALL,

BUT FOR ALL THE THINGS HE DID. I CRIED

BECAUSE HE WOULD NEVER DO THEM AGAIN.

HE WOULD NEVER CARVE ANOTHER PIECE OF

WOOD OR HELP US RAISE DOVES... OR PLAY THE

VIOLIN THE WAY HE DID. HE WAS AN INDIVIDUAL.

HE WAS AN IMPORTANT MAN. I'VE NEVER GOTTEN OVER

HIS DEATH. OFTEN I THINK WHAT WONDERFUL CARVINGS

NEVER TO COME TO BIRTH BECAUSE HE DIED. HOW MANY

JOKES ARE MISSING FROM THE WORLD... THINGS

UNTOUCHED BY HIS HANDS. HE SHAPED THE WORLD.

HE DID THINGS IN THE WORLD. THE WORLD WAS

BANKRUPTED OF TEN MILLION FINE ACTIONS THE NIGHT

HE PASSED ON...

EVERYONE MUST LEAVE SOMETHING BEHIND WHEN HE

DIES... A CHILD, A BOOK OR A PAINTING OR A HOUSE...

SOMETHING YOUR HAND TOUCHED SOME WAY

SO YOUR SOUL HAS SOMEWHERE TO GO WHEN YOU DIE,

AND WHEN PEOPLE LOOK... YOU'RE THERE.

IT DOES NOT MATTER WHAT YOU DO...

SO LONG AS YOU CHANGE SOMETHING FROM THE WAY

IT WAS BEFORE YOU TOUCHED IT INTO SOMETHING

THAT'S LIKE YOU AFTER YOU TAKE YOUR HANDS AWAY...

GRANDFATHER'S BEEN DEAD FOR ALL THESE YEARS,

BUT IF YOU LIFTED MY SKULL...

YOU WOULD FIND THE BIG RIDGES OF HIS THUMBPRINT.

HE TOUCHED ME...

'STUFF YOUR EYES WITH WONDER' HE SAID

'LIVE AS IF YOU WOULD DROP DEAD IN 10 SECONDS

SEE THE WORLD. IT'S MORE FANTASTIC THAN ANY

DREAM...ASK FOR NO GUARANTEES, ASK FOR NO

SECURITY...'

And with that very long paragraph, written many years ago

I realize, this is why I miss my Mother, the Boo's Mother,

they left a thumbprint not only in my mind but in my heart.

I cry right there on the ferry. I feel better after that good cry.

When I get to the Boo's house, I try and explain this paragraph,

Why I spend so much time talking, playing laughing with the

grand girls, why I use my collections instead of just storing them.

Why nothing is off limits to the little fingers that

grasp at things in the cottage.

I try to explain, that once I am gone, I cannot take these things

with me, but I can make memories with them,

I can leave thumbprints in their  little hearts,

in the hearts of all those I love, my children, my ex and his wife,

all those I come across. For all those that I paint portraits of

their homes, not just to paint a home on slate, but to make

it more than that. So that when I am gone, people will remember

that I didn't just breathe the oxygen as all the rest but

I tried to live my life as to make an impression on this world.

I don't know if I did a good job with my explanation

as I laid in his arms as he is quiet through my story.

Then when I get home yesterday, this graduation card is 

waiting in my mailbox.

And I realize, yes I have left some thumbprints in this world.

This little girl, graduating from college, was one of my PreK 

students when I was school nursing. There were many days

she cried for her Mommy, wanted to go home.

There were days that I went get the crying beautiful red head child

from her class and rocked her, played as her Mother in hopes

to ease some of her pain from being seperated from her Mommy.

She was one of my 1200 children in that school and I was

her school nurse for three years. Many times she came to me

to see if she was "sick enough to go home" as she

always rathered her Home to school.

I would check her out, assure her that she was healthy enough

to stay at school, I would give her a magic peppermint that

always helped so many children to get through the days of school.

10 years have passed and this little girl, remembers me.

She is now 18 and my card comes not at Mrs. Lilly or Lilly Riera

but simply "Nurse Lilly"

I have made a thumbprint on her heart.

Just as another graduation card, for KD's little cousin

addressed to MUMSIE

I have made another thumbprint.

As I absorb all of this, I pray on Mothers Day after I am

gone from this Earth, my children and my grandchildren

those who have known me will not be sad but remember

all those things we did, all the memories we made

be what they miss and in that loss they make a path 

to follow it in some way as to leave their own

thumbprints on the next generation.

For, really is this not all that really matters?

Loving each other for all it's worth not to be the "sloth"

that Ray Bradburn writes about

"... KNOCK THAT SLOTH RIGHT OUT THAT TREE

WHERE IT HANGS UPSIDE DOWN, SLEEPING IT'S LIFE AWAY.

TO HELL WITH THAT, SHAKE THAT TREE AND KNOCK THAT

SLOTH OFF HIS ASS..."

I end this very long post with this last thought,

the words I write in my handmade graduation cards this year,

"Go out and make a difference in your World"

Happy Mothers Day!