Looking for answers to life's questions

Posts tagged ‘Healing’

In Search of Reasons to Celebrate

Labor Day falls on September 2 this year. The whole country gets a day off to rest or run; the choice is theirs. It was a labor day of a different kind 65 years ago in a tiny village in Germany. It’s still a tiny village, by the way. My mother labored a long time to give birth to a 13 pound girl (yes, you read that right) at home, with no anesthesia. She remembered nothing of that day and it took me awhile to understand why. Mom was a 2 pound baby, incubated in the oven at home and was never supposed to be able to have children. The four of us sure made a liar out of the doctor who told her that.

Main street. You can see beginning to end.

Main street. You can see beginning to end.

No motel or grocery, just a bar and convenience market. They sure are a friendly bunch though.

No motel or grocery, just a bar and convenience market. They sure are a friendly bunch though.

Why celebrate turning 65? That’s just getting old. Well after my birthday, I get Medicare. I have had no health coverage since my divorce a couple of years ago. Not that I need it, but it’s like car insurance, nice to have just in case. The other reason I celebrate is that I’m still here among the living and loving. My first husband only made it to 42. I’m grateful for each and every minute of pain and pleasure. I plan to celebrate big time…for me.

My daughter is taking me to my favorite German restaurant, Gustav’s, where after months and months of a very strict diet, I’m going to indulge in a good German beer, pretzel and cheese fondue, followed with a dinner I will probably end up taking home and topped off with their famous apple strudel. That’s MY idea of celebrating.

Is your mouth watering?

Is your mouth watering?

I have other reasons to celebrate. I’ve exceeded my weight loss goal by more than enough to indulge one day. It’s not easy by any means but I’m feeling sooo much better everyday as well. I think the Bells Palsy is improving as I’m needing the cane less and less for balance.

Another reason to celebrate is that this is my 100th post. I mainly post once a week unless fatigue overtakes me. Life is pretty simple for me and I want to keep my posts remotely interesting. As healing progresses, so will the variety of my writing. I’m still two months shy of my two-year blogiversary. Every time I get a bit discouraged, someone comes for a visit to my site and leaves an encouraging comment. Thank you all for reading and adding so much to my life. Each of you are treasures.

How and what are you celebrating this fine day of no labor?

If all the cars in the United States were placed end to end, it would probably be Labor Day Weekend.~ Doug Larson

From my heart to yours,
Marlene Herself.

In Search of a New Routine

The saying is, “the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.” It’s something which I seem to have a lot of experience. I’ve had a pattern since I became ill more than 3 years ago to get a ton of rest, watch some TV, read and eat food that required very little effort on my part. There is a V groove in my carpet from my bed to the kitchen to the chair and back again. Any wonder why I’ve gained (a lot of) weight?

Most mornings I would get up, get a cup of coffee, do my journaling, (morning pages) meditate, read my email and think about exercising. I HATE exercising. Just beat me with a stick and get it over with. I was hungry after the coffee and all the reading so it was time to make something to eat. You can’t exercise on a full stomach so more time would go by and I’d find more excuses. The fitness center is at the bottom on a tiny hill and it’s free though quite small. Another excuse.

Something has changed. I’m not sure what it is but I’m feeling better. I found a new spiritual center on Palm Sunday. It felt like I was home. Then,trying once again to do my Qi Gong exercises, I noticed that I’m not losing my balance if I do it early in the morning. Logic would have it that I change my pattern. Ok, I have a logical mind. Now I get up, turn on the DVD player and begin. One good day lead to the next. I only took Easter Sunday off. I didn’t need to but it was a good excuse. Then I read Simple Abundance by Sarah Ban Breathnach for that day and begin writing my morning pages. Coffee comes with the e-mail. Yay! It’s watered down, half decaf, half regular coffee but since I’m recovering from a stress induced illness, I try to take it easy on my system. I just can’t give up the coffee.

A very gentle start for those who and do little

A very gentle start for those who can do little

It's a gentle combination of Tai Chi and Yoga  Easier than most and a great start

It’s a gentle combination of Tai Chi and Yoga Easier than most and a great start

On nice days I’ve been taking a walk, with my cane, of course, increasing the distance slowly after the long shut-in winter. I have no yard right now but trying to plant a bit in pots to insure outside activity. I’m finding that I can sew again and even concentrate enough to tackle a project or two that has been on hold all these years.

I've had this for years. Any daily inspiration works.

I’ve had this for years. Any daily inspiration works.

My health is the number one priority, and I’m finally acting on it. No more sitting and waiting for it to return. Being a person who requires routine, I’ve turned mine upside down and do the hard thing first. It will get easier with time. The e-mail will have to go to later in the day as well. I’ll scan it for business that needs to be taken care of, then proceed to the next hardest job. Does this mean I’m no longer insane? Hmmm. I doubt it, but we can hope.

Do you require a regular routine or can you just go with the flow?

The secret of your future is hidden in your daily routine. ~ Mike Murdock

From my heart to yours,
Marlene Herself

In Search of Focus

I can easily get lost in the wonder of exploring things I haven’t seen in the last year and some of my things have been stored for well over two years. Some are still in boxes in the garage waiting for the last move. That leads me to a familiar quandary. On what do I place my focus now? I’ve had this discussion with my son many times as he has inherited the interest in a wide variety of things from his mother. Some people call it ADD.

I have a book somewhere as yet unpacked called “The Power of Focus” by Jack Canfield, Mark Victor Hansen and Les Hewitt. I also own “The Power of Focus for Women” by Fran Hewitt and Les Hewitt. It has been sitting on my headboard for the longest time waiting for me to finish it. I just couldn’t get focused.

focused on the project

focused on the project

What I thought I picked up from the first perusing of the book, was that it’s hard to get good at everything so focus on just one thing and become proficient at that. That wasn’t the case. There was so much more to the book. It was more about focusing on getting the life you want. Well, I could use a little of that.

I have so many interests that most days I was spinning my wheels just trying to decide what to do next. I would normally go sew, embroider, craft, paint, or walk miles for exercise and meditation. These days, I’m requiring a different kind of focus. It seems to be more introspective than creative.

Right now my sewing room is a guest room while my sister makes her changes from one place to another, so I can’t sew anyway. We spent the last week packing up her apartment and then cleaning it from top to bottom. Not an easy feat for this tipsy chick. I’m going to try and figure out how to make that a more comfortable guest room since it looks like it will be used in that capacity more often than not.

I read voraciously. Now I can do it without guilt. I have finished 3 books this week including this one.

A good read

A good read

I’m trying also to focus on ways to get well. I think that it’s an option still open to me. Meditation is something else I’m trying to focus on since the walking and gardening meditation have not been available this winter. Come on spring!

Most of us have many things going at once. Trying to do too many of them sometimes leads to doing none well. Making a list sometimes helps me see what should be a priority for the day, week, month, etc. The top of my list is my health but often my actions put it at the bottom. Not eating healthy all the time and easily being distracted from exercise brings my lack of commitment into focus big time.

When I look back on all that has transpired in my life, it seems like everything else has been stripped away from me so I have only a couple of things to focus on. Writing is what I can do now; even more so than reading, actually. The other is my next topic, if I find the courage to post about it. We shall see.

One reason so few of us achieve what we truly want is that we never direct our focus; we never concentrate our power. Most people dabble their way through life, never deciding to master anything in particular. ~ Tony Robbins

From my heart to yours,
Marlene Herself

In Search of the Combination

My daughter and I had a girl’s day hanging out in our favorite metaphysical bookstore last Saturday. New Renaissance is located in downtown Portland, Oregon. Or is it uptown? We could spend days there but that would be a very expensive venture.

We started out spending some time with one of their readers, just for some fun. Don’t go shaking your heads now. I take everything with a grain of salt but this young lady was pretty good for someone so young. My daughter and I had plenty to giggle about and that was well worth it.

As I perused the books for a few moments before we headed out for linner, (lunch/dinner) a book jumped off the shelf at me. Now I don’t need another book, but this one was insistent. I certainly didn’t need another writing book as I have a minimum of 108. I’m a little slow to learn.

This is my combination so far.

This is my combination so far.

I also picked up the book written by the woman who was giving the evening seminar we were to attend, “Intuitive Healing” by Marie Manuchehri. I had hoped to have it autographed. There were too many people waiting so we gave up and called it a night after the seminar. Yes I’m a bit out there. I’m sure this was not your first clue. You have to cut me a little slack here.

February 11 marks a full three years with the debilitating remnants of Bells Palsy. I’m looking for answers everywhere and anywhere. It should have been gone by now. There has to be a reason it’s not, so the search is still on.
I tend to absorb books more than read them. Like this writing book which has stayed by my side since the first moment I opened it. It combines my primary interests; writing, healing and spirituality.

By the time I read to page three of the first chapter, I was moved to tears. Janet Conner writes of her Covenant. They are vows to herself that she will not break. I’m hoping for some changes in my writing as has felt a bit stilted and shallow. I have waited to post anything because I didn’t like anything I wrote.

It brought me back to my practice of morning pages that Julia Cameron writes about in “The Artist’s Way”. I actually took a 12 week workshop on it doing one chapter at a time. My copies of Julia Cameron’s books are unfortunately still in boxes in the garage.

artistsway (2)

Writing is the most healing thing I have done. When I read Louise Hay’s book, “You Can Heal Your Life” it said that Bells Palsy was a manifestation of extreme control over anger and unwillingness to express feelings. Yup, that was me, the people pleaser. So paper is where I blow off steam and process loss. It’s less messy. Right now, I have nothing left to be angry about. Not even Bells Palsy. It was a gift. I’m hoping to get more from this book and others. It seems to be what I have to do at this moment in time.

I have 3 copies of this well worn book.

I have 3 copies of this well worn book.

Do you have any books that helped you with your writing or your life that I may not have heard of yet? I obviously have nothing but time right now.

“Grace strikes us when we are in great pain and restlessness. . . .Sometimes at that moment a wave of light breaks into our darkness, and it is as though a voice were saying: You are accepted.” Paul Johannes Tillich

From my heart to yours,
Marlene Herself

In Search of What to Read

I’ve tried all week but there seems to be no end to my cave dwelling. Trying to understand why I couldn’t get anything accomplished brought me to the realization that I’ve been a human doing, not a human being for so long that I need time to refuel. The last four months have been quite taxing. Oh, gosh, that’s coming up too. So, giving myself permission to stop, rest and continue to heal all those damaged nerves in my face and head, takes a great deal discipline.

I’m also coming off sugar and refined carbs. When the munchies encroach on my space too close to the kitchen, I retreat to the cave for protection. Once there, I have no desire to go foraging. It’s a warm and cozy drawing me in some evenings as early as 7:00 p.m. I will read till at least 10, hoping to find peaceful sleep at the end. It works unless a neighbor decides to slam a door or take a shower at 11 p.m. These old buildings are not well insulated.

So, now you will discover my odd reading habits. On rare occasion do I read start to finish. That’s part of why I don’t borrow from the library. Some stories want to be savored for as long as possible. Other books, mostly my non-fiction, require a bit of digestion after each chapter. Can’t rush learning. I also keep several notebooks handy. One is my gratitude journal that I write in immediately after crawling into the cave, the other is my writing and thoughts notebook. Some nights I wake up with something that just has to be written now or lost. I rarely buy magazines anymore but this week I found a couple that wouldn’t stay on the shelf. They just followed me home.


Here is what is sleeping in my bed this week. I read a chapter of each until I get to the mystery. The one here is an excellent second to the first of the series. I read three chapters last night but still trying to make it last. I’ll end my day with something inspirational to stay in my mind as I sleep.

books in bed

I took this old canvas bag apart to experiment on it after having my sewing machine serviced. I take it with me to try to start conversations whenever possible. Not that many people read anymore and I’m looking for slightly different reading material than many I come across. I have more room for books in my bed since my little dog is no longer taking that space.

book bag

Do you have books in your bed too? Or is it a furry friend? Maybe you just have people partners and your books must reside elsewhere. What are you reading these days?

My furry friend Schatzie sorely missed.

My furry friend Schatzie sorely missed.

“A room without books is like a body without a soul.”Marcus Tullius Cicero

From my heart to yours,
Marlene Herself

In Search of Tact

My mother was a woman who spoke her mind. She was not one to mince words. I often wondered about that expression. Mom was direct in an abrupt, abrasive sort of way. By the time we were done with a meal at a restaurant, most of my siblings and I wanted to crawl under the table and hide. She was just being honest. The silverware was not clean or the glass had something in it. It was always something and she was going to make sure they knew it. Mom had her standards and they were quite high. I was often of the opinion that people like my mother just needed a set of skid chains on their tongue. Sometimes many of us are in need of those skid chains. Now, where did I leave mine?

I am not much of a verbal communicator. There was very little opportunity to express myself. Staying quiet gave me lots of time to read and I tried to learn how to say things in a kind and tactful manner. I was married to a man for 25 years that did all the talking. Every thought in his head, came out of his mouth. We called it “diarrhea” of the mouth. Have you ever been to a party with one of those people? They monopolize the entire conversation.

That’s when I started to write my words on paper instead of holding them in. Problem solved, you would think. Not so much. Words on paper have no facial expression and you cannot see the writer’s face. It takes work to tell if what you meant to say got to the person you were writing to in the same context. You can’t see the sender smile because they were being facetious or attempting to be humorous.That’s where skilled writers have the advantage. They have my deepest respect. Knowing how to put words together so another can feel what you are writing, is a skill I desparately want to learn.

I can read a note and be hurt by it, while all the time the sender was just trying to elaborate their point. Been there, done that, know it will happen again and again. How many times have we written a note, hit the send button, only to wish we had a lasso to rein it back in and make a few adjustments? I have deleted more notes and posts than I have sent because the phrasing can so easily be misconstrued.

The writers that I truly envy are those that can write funny. They don’t have to be tactful. My folks had no visible sense of humor. At least I didn’t see it. I think I inherited the lack of it. Please let that be a skill you can learn.

Mom and Dad smiling.

Mom and Dad smiling.

My day is always better if something makes me laugh so I search it out. Janet Evanovich is one of my all-time favorite writers for relaxed reading. Her “Stephanie Plum” series guaranteed a belly laugh. I even bought her book on how she writes. Though I rarely read novels since I have so many other kinds of books waiting, I yearn for light and funny. It’s very healing.

Writing is not something I have a good handle on yet. Maybe I never will but I have to keep trying. So, let me say up front, if I offend anyone, it’s not intentional. If I take offence, I’ll get over it quickly. Life’s too short and words are so powerful. Intention is the key here. My intention is to be kind, with a sprinkle of humor or my attempt at it. I’ll keep working on developing tact and getting skilled with that lasso.

From my heart to yours,
Marlene Herself

In Search of the Comfort of Home

It’s moving day. I can’t begin to express how excited I am. Except for a short period of 7 months, I have been without “home” for 2 years and 10 days. It’s my own choice of course. There are many reasons to be home-less. I may even consider it again at some point in time which is what makes apartment renting somewhat attractive.

Originally, I preferred to try to purchase something small so I wouldn’t have to do this move thing again. The house in Arizona hasn’t sold so purchasing one isn’t an option right now. It’s expensive to move, to say the least and time-consuming. Pack it up, then unpack it, then pack it up again. I’m really good at it if you need help with your move. I was bragging to someone yesterday that when my last husband and I moved from California to Arizona, I packed and moved 40 thousand pounds worth of our “stuff”. Books weigh a lot. The only thing that broke was something I had not packed myself. We had a yard sale before that move, selling $3,000 worth of “stuff”. That’s not counting what I talked him into giving away.

I wanted to simplify our lives only to wind up with more of the same. My move to Oregon, alone, was with a rented 26 foot truck. Now I will live in 1000 square feet rather than 3000. At 64 years of age, that’s enough to take care of while having the time to pursue more creative endeavors.

After spending over 50 years cooking, cleaning and caregiving, which I thoroughly enjoyed, I have reached the point where I want my home to be a place of comfort for myself as well as my guests. Now, I think that can finally be done. I have learned in the last two years to say NO. Doing it my way is now an option. I can put up my favorite artwork where I want to see it. The lights can be on when I want them on because I’m paying the bill. I can have my windows open for fresh air. That’s why they invented quilts, isn’t it?

What makes your residence a home? I have moved over 30 times in my life so home is almost a foreign concept. Is it a place you park your “stuff”? Can it be more than that? Especially if it’s an apartment and not a home you own. My grown children don’t even have that sense of “home”. We moved quite a bit when they were young though my daughter went through school in almost one neighborhood. Home was not the comfort zone I had hoped it to be.

My daughter said a home is the place that reflects your inner self and nourishes the soul. In doing so it helps you to heal. My last apartment was small, dark and a bit chilly but it gave me time to do nothing but heal. As many people as I manage to talk to, no one has ever heard of Bells Palsy manifesting in the way it showed up for me.

I’m hoping to make new friends to invite to my home; where we can share ideas and laughter. Maybe teach a niece or two to sew, quilt or embroider. I’m looking forward to finding out what my Style is. Of course, it appears to be what I’ve scrounged from here and there but soon my real style may surface. How did you discover your style? I’ve been looking on Pinterest for mine but can’t seem to duplicate what I think I like at the thrift stores. I’ll keep looking though.

My new place has a nice “feel” to it. Is that what makes it comfortable? Is it the bottle of wine in the fridge to make a toast and celebrate another milestone in life? I look forward to hearing from you.

I had spent my whole life feeling homesick. The only difference between the two of us was that I didn’t know what or where home was.”
― Marian Keyes, Lucy Sullivan Is Getting Married

From my heart to yours,

In Search of a Little Peace and Inspiration

I’ve been lazy this week or maybe it’s just sagging motivation.

Next weekend I get to move into my own apartment. You can’t even imagine how excited I am after living for the last year on family member’s futons or sofa beds. The lack of major responsibilities has aided in the healing process. People who have not seen me in the last year remark how much better I look and sound. Their observation reinforces that there is still hope for complete recovery from two and a half years with Bells Palsy. The last doctor I saw gave me no hope.

Last weekend my daughter drove the two of us to the Newport Beach here in Oregon. I’m specific because I know there is one in California. We made a quick stop for hugs in Albany at my niece’s and then visited several quilt shops in the surrounding area for a little quilting inspiration. I found a Christmasy Log Cabin quilt on Pinterest that I’m anxious to start. It amazes me that each quilt shop is so very different. Albany has a less than inspirational store. Lebanon and Corvallis, Oregon had bright, cheery places with lots of finished quilt items and fabric to inspire for years to come. I believe they reflect the owners taste in quilts and fabric choice. The quilt shop in Newport Beach was almost not worth the stop unless you are looking for a little beach themed fabric.

The first place I wanted to visit in Newport was the Sylvia Beach Hotel. I had the pleasure of staying there once several years ago. It’s technically a bed and breakfast that also serves dinner if you want it. Every room is named after a different writer. The dinner menu is listed as “Chapters”. There are books available to borrow if for some odd reason you forgot to bring one and there are quiet places to sit and read or to do your own writing. It sits right on the edge of the beach so the sound of the surf will lull you to sleep each night or sit and peacefully write your next chapter of your own book or life.

Newport happened to be cloudy and quite cool as we took off shoes and socks to walk along the beach. I watched as my feet would sink down into the sand but as soon as I lifted it, the footprint disappeared. It was as though I had not even been standing in that spot. The earth has a way of showing us how fleeting we are on it. I chose not to spend the money for the Sylvia Beach Hotel this time though my free night at the La Quinta was more than comfortable.

Maybe after I’m all done paying the expenses of another move, I will save enough to spend a week there. It’s a good place to find both, peace and inspiration. Even one quiet day and night at the beach can do that. For me, peace has been essential to healing while inspiration is essential to life itself. We all find both in different ways. How do you find your peace and inspiration?

“Inspiration is God making contact with itself.” ~ Ram Dass

From my heart to yours,

In Search of a New Story

For the first time in my life I am getting the opportunity to take a creative writing class. It’s at the senior center and I have become an early member at the ripe age of 63. I fit in quite nicely there with my silver cane and cautious step. They have been warm and kind even though I still find it hard to express myself verbally as the facial paralysis continues. That’s where the writing comes in.

Writing is something I have been doing for the past 25 years to preserve what sanity I had left. I know, it’s questionable as to the amount of sanity still available. I’ve never been a story writer per se but I love a good story. So many wonderful writers out there weave a web that draws me in and I can’t put the book down until I see what happens to the characters. I recently read a story of a woman whose husband had left her for someone younger. When that didn’t work out he came and tried to manipulate his way back into her life. I had decided then and there that if the writer had her heroine take back the louse, I would never read another of her books. Lucky for her the story turned out how I wanted it too. I was caught up as though I knew these people. That’s the kind of story I want to write. I want to find where my creativity and imagination have been hiding and bring them out to play. Daily journal writing documenting the chaos that is my life is what I do and in a way it’s a story. It’s a “just the facts ma’am” kind of writing that if I told the whole story it could make you laugh, cry and curl your hair. It’s a story that I will eventually need to tell in full.

Though I am without formal education, at my heart level I think I’ve always been or at least wanted to be a teacher. Now I am trying to use my words to teach. For the time being, my subject is Bells Palsy; how I’m trying to heal from it and the consequences of not heeding the bodies warning signs that something in life isn’t working. My life was out of balance and now my body is trying to get its balance back. Funny how that worked out. It would help a lot if the Bells Palsy hadn’t short circuited the pathway in my brain that helps me find words but slowly and with certainty, new circuits are forming and old circuits are healing. Sentences are coming quicker and writing anything helps that healing process.

I’ve written well over 20 volumes of the same old story of my life. When I hear others that I know continue to whine about their lives I think to myself; either do something about it or shut up already. I’m pretty sure my family and friends were thinking the same thing about me. Thank goodness I’ve finally turned the corner with that. These last two plus years have brought the greatest and most positive changes in my journal writing.

Now I write about the actions I’m taking, like signing up for the class or getting the sewing and needlework back out. I write about the house I want to buy when the house I still jointly own with my ex-husband is sold. No, I’m not holding my breath. I have written the description of every room down in detail. My cozy cottage has a welcoming and spacious covered front porch with several wicker chairs and small tables so my neighbors can come and sit; sip tea or wine while exchanging ideas and stories. There is a library in this house and a comfy white wicker desk and chair to sit at and write. The kitchen is optional. I’d prefer take out from the local health food store or just fresh fruits and veggies.

I believe we create the life we live with our thoughts, attitudes and actions. My thoughts become words and then they can become real things. My life so far has me really wondering what the heck I was thinking back then. Through my writing I want to create the most interesting and fun life ever. I want to tell you about all the places I have seen in the world and all the interesting people I have met. Will I ever be a real writer? I don’t have an answer to that though I would like that very much. That’s why I’m taking a class. What makes a writer real? At the end of the day, I guess it’s the need and desire to put words together to express ourselves in print. Each of us does it a bit differently. That’s what makes it so very interesting. Vive la difference!

The reason 99% of all stories written are not bought by editors is very simple. Editors never buy manuscripts that are left on the closet shelf at home
. – John Campbell

From my heart to yours,

In Search of a Good Mother

On this Mother’s Day weekend I want to wish all of you who are mothers a great, love filled day. Being a mother is the hardest job in the world as well as the most rewarding. On the other side of the coin, it can also be the most heartbreaking.

Mothers’ Day brings up so many emotions for many of us. If our child or children don’t acknowledge us on that day does it mean we were not a good mother? What is it that makes a good mother? I can remember in the early years of my first marriage, the greatest insult my husband could hurl at me was to proclaim “You are just like your mother”. Then the fight was really on.

I had a very difficult relationship with my own mother for far too many years. I was so grateful that our relationship was finally mended long before her passing. Mom was raised in Germany while Hitler was in power and had all the warmth and nurturing ability of a rock. But was she a good mother? Absolutely! I made certain to let her know. What I received from her was a desire to do it differently with my children. To balance the strength and independence she instilled in us with love and compassion. I probably already mentioned that when I was 10 I started looking for my adoption papers being certain that these people couldn’t possibly be my real parents. I think lots of kids feel that way growing up. Mom used to threaten me when I had done something to upset her that she was going to send me away to boarding school. I kept wondering what it was I had done so wrong and how could I do it again. I’d have my bags pack in a heartbeat. I think it took the wind out of her sails that I was looking forward to being sent away. Moms, don’t make idle threats. I know I drove her nuts and when my daughter went through adolescence, yup, she got even with me. Nothing new under these stars.

I’ve apologized to my children many times for my inadequacies as a parent. Mom didn’t have a book of directions that came with the four of us and I didn’t get one with my kids. There are no directions. We are flying by the seat of our pants. I used a lot of tough love and hugs. Mom couldn’t hug till she was quite advanced in years and you could tell she was uncomfortable but stretching herself. Dad didn’t hug either so they were a matched set. Mom created in me strength so many only wish they had. I shine in emergencies, never getting rattled until the crisis is over. I wouldn’t change it for the world.

I have seen every kind of mother imaginable. We’ve all seen the over-indulgent, permissive moms. Thank goodness I didn’t get one of those. I’d rather have the rock, thank you very much. Then there are the moms with a mean streak a mile wide who are totally overwhelmed by parenthood and lash out with a loud slap or an arm grab and shake. They didn’t get a how-to book either and were probably raised the same way so that’s what they know to do. I’ve met moms who love enough to let their child go to a family that’s better able to care for their child. I have also met moms who gave away or used their children for the price of a fix. When you look back at their history, no one seemed equipped to be a parent.

So how do you tell if you are a good mom? Well, I guess if your children are willing to let you live with them while recovering from a long-term illness, that’s a good sign. This Bells Palsy of mine has tested all my relationships. I am fortunate that both my children and my sister who was a child of my heart have all stepped up willingly to help me heal. They have been there for me through 2 divorces as well. They are strong, independent thinkers with huge hearts and always give it to me straight just like I gave it to them growing up. I don’t need anything else to know I’m wished a happy mother’s day. I was able to be there for my mother and I miss that rock every single day. I think I also found the book. It was in my heart all along and there was a happy ending.

From my heart to yours,

Most mothers are instinctive philosophers.
~Harriet Beecher Stowe