13 years ago, I was a senior in high school.  It doesn’t seem like it’s been 13 years, but it has.  I’ve been reminded of this for over a week now when it seems like everyone that I went to high school with decided to gather together in a Facebook group and friend one another.

I’ve heard from people that I never thought I would hear from again.

And you know what?

I was okay with that.

I talk to no one from high school anymore.

But now, the walls are a flurry with “how have you beens?”

I’m not ashamed of where I am in my life, but I also can’t seem to find a way to summarize in a wall post on what’s been going on in my life the last 13 years.

How do you respond with “what’s new with you?” when “new” to all of these people covers the last 13 years?

Until next time…

Whether you agree with what is going on in the political world or this world in general, history is being made.

Our grandchildren are going to be reading about the election of 2008 in history books.  WE are a part of the history that’s being made, whether we like it or not.

That’s just reality folks.

Today is the last day to register to vote in most states.  THE LAST DAY.  As in, if you’re not registered, you don’t have a say and with the state of the economy, it’s affecting YOU.

It is.

It’s affecting you whether you vote or you don’t, so don’t you want to have a say so in what happens?

I don’t care who you vote for.

You can vote Republican, Democratic, Independent, Libertarian, who cares?

I don’t.

I DON’T CARE WHO YOU VOTE FOR…

but I do care THAT YOU VOTE.

I care about what’s going on in the world.  I care for the issues that concern me and I care for the issues that concern you even if they aren’t the same.

Please.

Please register to vote and then, more importantly, please vote.

This is your voice.  This is a freedom that we’re granted that not every country has.  We have a choice.  We have a voice.

Use it.

Watch this… and excuse the language. Not a fan of the language but I am a fan of the message. ( I did find one with the language beeped out… yay)

Until next time…

It’s amazing the difference that one week makes.  Seriously.  Just one week ago, I was melting down.  I was throwing in the towel.  I was giving up.

I did not have the strength to go one more day and fight the spiritual battle that faced me, the one that continued to come back over and over again even though I would lay it down day after day after day.

I didn’t have the strength, the desire to continue to take my children all over the face of the planet, or leave this house for that matter.  I hated myself.  I hated being around me and I melted in a very big way.

And then?  Right after I wrote that post, I started to prepare my lesson for the youth.  We were starting a new series and it was all about spiritual battles.  It was about going AWOL on the Lord.  It was about why we ignore the battles and why we shouldn’t.

The lesson coupled with lots of hugs from children who I see as my own in many ways lifted my spirits.  Emails and IMs from the kids upon my return home, thanking me for the lesson, telling me that they enjoyed it, speaking to me as someone who was respected helped even more.

This week was no easier than last week.  In fact, additional stress was added with the influx of designs all coming due at the same time.. additional projects at work, a soccer game thrown into the middle of the week, the trip to the doctor with Matthew and his ear and the trip to the doctor with Sam and her finger… and then there was the added stress of getting my car back on Friday… with only two hours to return a rental, get my car and then get back to the doctor with Sam.

But I did it.

The same messages have been repeated to me in one way or another over and over again this week.  Some through phone calls from friends, some from IMs from my youth, some from my children, and some from bloggers.  Encouragement came in the form of tweets and comments.

And help.  Lots and lots of help from my church family and another single mom at church who happened to see my blog on Facebook and respond to me.

When I couldn’t rally myself, others did.

Today, our former youth leader was back in town and while I was at the altar she came and asked if she could pray with me.  I told her, through the tears, again attempting to forgive myself, that I didn’t even know what to pray for anymore.  So she began to pray.  The most amazing thing happened.  She didn’t know of any of the struggles that I’d been going through.  She knew of none of the events of the past week or the past few weeks.  But her prayers did not reflect that.

As I prayed in agreement with her, the weight began to lift off my shoulders.  And  I knew that something had changed.  I knew that I prayed hard and sought the answers that I needed because I was tired.

When I first began going to church, I would come home from church, barely able to keep my eyes open.  It was a sign of exertion on my part, and a sign that I had been working through many feelings, thoughts, and emotions.  I’ve felt the same way in the past few weeks that I did when I first started going to church, when I first started seeking the Lord.

My hope, my faith is restored.  I already know what I have to do to get back to where I was.  I know that it can be done, because I did it before.  I’ve done it many time, but normally on a much smaller scale.

I mentioned to several people that I feel as if I needed to completely melt so that I could be in a form that I could mold myself into who I want to be, who I long to be, and more like Christ.

And today?  Nothing’s changed.  Except my outlook on life.

I’m not alone even though I WANT to feel that way.  If I take a step back I am one of the most blessed people on the planet.

And I am a Child of God.

What more do I have to be?

Until next time…

I’d love to type something phenominal and funny for you but the fact it, I’ve been way too busy… so we’re going to be bulleting some quick updates for you…

Heh.. I said “we’re” as if there is anyone else behind this blog… nope, just me.

So here we go..

• Matthew and I have to be at the surgical center at 6:30 IN THE MORNING Monday morning so we can make his dumbo ear normal again.  Prayers appreciated.. specifically for a sense of calm and peace for Matthew… he’s kinda freaking out over this… and more specifically that we won’t oversleep.
• Had Sam’s follow up appointment for her finger today… it’s healing, but not healed… she’s mad because she can’t be the goalie for 3 more weeks…
• If you haven’t been already, please go visit these blogs… because I worked hard on them… and they are uber cool…

• I Should Be Folding Laundry
• Daily Mish Mash
• Mrs. 007
• Sweetnicks

• I’m hopping over at Desperately Seeking WordPress… not with the posts though, I’ve been too busy… they are coming, I promise…. but there was a new one today, in honor of Speak Like a Pirate Day…
• Even though there was a whole day devoted to speaking like a Pirate, not once did I participate.. I know, I’m a slacker.
• I have written two more reviews at the new review site.. and you should totally read them because I’m talking about how I hate lack of communication and how smart my mother is…
• Speaking of the review blog… there are just a few more hours left to enter to win the 39 Clues gift pack.  Matthew can’t put the book down…  and there will be a new giveaway on Monday… promise…
• I got my car back today.  It’s been three weeks.  Hottie was at the counter when I returned it.  I think he was flirting, but I was in too much of a rush to reciprocate.  I don’t like the car.  It’s not the same as before I wrecked it, but I’ll get over it.  It’s back and I can now jam to the New Kids with the sun roof open again…
• Alpha Mom has a new feature called the Alpha Mom’s Guide to Everything in 5 Simple Steps… You should check it out… and sometime soon, you’ll see my contribution… I’ll let you know when it’s up…
• Steph had Ivy and now I want another baby.
• On Twitter and in the Roanoke area?  Tweetup on October 9th… email me for info…

I think that’s all… at least I’m tired of talking in bullets.  The kids are gone with their dad and I have lots of work to do to make blogs beautiful… :D  And I have to catch up on my TV… and the new season hasn’t officially started yet…

I’m doomed…

Have an AWESOME weekend…

Until next time…

Y’all, I have to tell you. I am walking around with a HUGE hardened heart right now.

I’ve admitted it which alleviates part of the problem, but fixing it is another story. Honestly, I don’t think I’m ready to fix it but I’m sure the people around me, those who know me the best, wish I would hurry up and get over it.

I am a people pleaser by nature which often results in becoming a human doormat and at some point in time the last few weeks I decided that I no longer wished to be a doormat.

I’ll admit full responsibility when it comes to being a doormat. Someone asks, I do.

But now, I don’t want to be a doormat anymore and those who are used to wiping their feet on me and trampling all over me, don’t like it. Nor do those who have never treated me as a doormat because now, the “me” attitude that has overtaken my mentality is affecting all that are involved.

Friends, it’s not pretty.

At all.

I don’t like me right now. I don’t even want to be around myself, but my heart is so hard that I don’t even know what to do about it. Short of pray, and my prayers have been short, and less than enthusiastic.

And today, despite all the things that God was telling me during the service, I didn’t want to listen. It was if I was sticking my fingers in my spiritual ears and saying “la la la la la” as loud as I could.

In fact, I even refused communion, the first time since the 8th grade when I took my first communion that I have ever done that. But I believe in confessing before communion and I couldn’t bring myself to confess.

For the past six weeks, I’ve seen this coming on and for the past six weeks I have carried my sorry little butt up to the alter and confessed over and over again and have asked over and over again that He soften my heart, that He take these resentments that I seem to be harboring away and no sooner does service end, something else happens and I slip right back to the place that I have been trying so desperately to escape.

I’ve spent far too much time crying, an act that I believe is needed at times, but leaves me worthless when I’m done, and I’m just over it. Yet, I spent even more time crying today at church.

I’ve gotten to the point where I’ve lost faith. Not total faith. I still know that my God is a mighty God and that He can do the impossible, but I’ve lost faith that I will stop feeling this way anytime soon.

That frightens me. My “me” attitude frightens me. The passion that I once had that seems to bring more resentment now frightens me.

Yet, I don’t know what to do about it.

Rarely do I ever pull the “single mom” card but here of late, I’ve wanted to. I haven’t yet, but the desire to shout out to someone, “I’m a single mother and it’s only me and I can’t do that for you because I’m barely keeping my head above water right now as it is.” But when I respectfully decline offering my help to someone, because I physically CAN’T take on any more, I feel as if I’m letting someone down or as if I need to readjust my priorities.

And secretly, I wish, just once that someone would come to me and say, “Heather, I know that you’re really busy right now, is there anything that I can do to help?”

Knowing myself as well as I do, I would probably say no, my stubbornness getting in the way of ever allowing someone to help me, as if that would be admitting failure. But the joy of knowing that someone actually wanted to help me, just to be nice, would send me over the top, restoring the hope in humanity that at one point in time, I had.

And asking for help? I hate it, but I’ve done it. I’ve come to the conclusion, many times over, that I can’t do it all and that I HAVE to ask for help. And I do.

I know that people aren’t supposed to cater to my every whim or do things the way that I want them done. But communicating with me would be appreciated. When it involves me, it would be nice if someone would just keep me in the loop. And I’m so over people volunteering me for things. To agree to do it is an invitation to let someone down or fail and to decline makes me appear as if I don’t want to help.

So, this vicious cycle keeps going on in my head, and in my heart. And all the turmoil of emotions are like rocks tumbling around hardening the outside of my heart.

And I hate it.

Just verbalizing all of this in this post has helped some what, in being able to see just how angry I am, at no one thing or person in particular, but me.

And maybe all I need to do is forgive myself. Maybe all I need to tell myself that it’s okay to NOT want to be a doormat, but to learn to better appropriate my time and my efforts.

Maybe all I need to do is accept the fact that I don’t have to be everything to everyone and that it’s okay.

Maybe I need to sit down with God and talk about the current state of my head and heart.

I know that there’s a wonderful, beautiful heart buried down in there. I know there is. I’ve seen it. I’ve felt it. I’ve loved it.

And I want that heart back.

There’s alot of talk in the celebrity world these days about Promise rings, specifically the Jonas Brothers and Miley Cyrus, two acts that my dearest Samara can’t get enough of and that my boy, Matthew, can’t stand.

The promise rings that they are wearing are to remind themselves of a promise that they’ve made to themselves… the promise to save themselves for marriage.

It’s a concept that most of us are unfamiliar with. What? Not have sex with anything that breathes because you’re in the mood? Saving yourself for the person that you marry and not someone that you simply love or think, at the time, that you love?

Many of us don’t grasp that. Yet, we scoff at those unwed teenagers that we see out and about, questioning not the actions of the teen, but of the parent that’s back at home, supposedly a good role model. We look at those that have an STD as if they are gross. And lose respect for many when we learn of their count, most often attaching labels.

We complain about the rise of sexually transmitted diseases, the rise in the amount of abortions performed each year, and the divorce rate. However, do you know that most of these things would decrease if we just kept our legs closed until we got married?

So when the question was asked if we would give our children, at the appropriate age, a promise ring, I had to weigh in.

I’m a thirty-one year old, single woman, and I’ve worn a promise ring for just over a year now. I made a committment to myself that I would save myself for marriage and if you’re anything like most of the people I know, let me answer your question right now.

Yes, I know what I’m giving up.

I made this choice for a few reasons. (A) I’ve done the whole child out of wedlock thing and it sucks. The stares, the comments, the judgements… yeah, I’d prefer not to go that route again. (B) I don’t really feel like worrying if I’m pregnant or worrying about birth control. Guess what? Unless I’ve been chosen to carry the next Messiah, I don’t have to ever worry about it if I’m not engaging in the activity. (C) If you’re like me, and grounded in your faith, you know that sex was created as an act for a husband and wife, and it goes again my Biblical beliefs… but I could make this same argument and leave the Bible completely out of it.

But the biggest reason that I made this choice? That would be (D) I want to set an example for the lives that I am influencing. I can’t very well tell this kids in my youth group, or my own kids, not to have sex until they are married and getting it on myself. Ya know? Can we say hypocrite?

Now, regarding the whole promise ring and my children…. will I just give them each one and let them know what it stands for?

No.

Slapping a ring on their finger isn’t going to do them any good. They have to WANT to put that ring on. They have to WANT to make that promise to themselves and then WANT to explain to anyone who asks about their ring what it stands for.

They have to have buy in.

And that’s why I’m honest about the ring that currently resides on the ring finger on my right hand. (It would be where a wedding band would normally be but my the ring on that finger doesn’t fit on my right hand and I’ve not been to have it resized yet.)

I explain to my children and those in my youth group and anyone else that asks what it stands for — my purity…my promise that I will save myself for my husband.

Does it turn guys away? Yes. Does it make people say, “well, I understand why you’re still single?” Absolutely.

But what it also does is remind me that I’m special and that I’m worth the wait. And any man who has a problem with that is NOT the man for me.

I’m glad that some of these celebrities are taking a stand for abstinence amidst the current Hollywood “role models” who are anything but and I pray that they are serious about their promises to themselves. I’m sure Miley Cyrus could get through to my daughter better than anyone else could when it comes to saying that purity is cool. But I’m prepared to have the conversation about it if they do, in fact, break their promises and it will go much like the talk that I had with my children when they learned of Jamie Lynn’s pregnancy.

Hearing, “Zoey from Zoey 101 is going to be a mom… isn’t she lucky?” our of my then eight-year-old was a shock and I never had plans to explain to her at that time why “Zoey” was anything BUT lucky.

So you can call me a freak, a born-again virgin, what ever it is that you want.

I’m calling myself smart.

I’m calling myself special.

I’m calling myself worth it.

And I hope one day that my children wish to call themselves the same.

Until next time…

You know how sometimes when you get trapped in your own mind, you think about things that you wish you could say to someone who you know you will probably never see again?

And you wish that you had the opportunity to say it to them?  Just to get it off your chest.  Just to let them know the truth about how you were really feeling?

And you know how sometimes, when you’re imagining this conversation in your head, you’ve thought about what they would say?  What you hope they would say?

And during this whole process, you can imagine how great it would feel if it all panned out that way?

Fortunately, for me, I’ve been able to take this conversation from the confines of my brain and execute it in real life.  I was afforded the opportunity to sit down and talk, to share my feelings, to explain what I’ve been carrying with me for quite some time now.

I’ve also been able to hear the things that I always hoped that I would hear, even if it is much later than when I had hoped to hear them.

And even though deep down, I didn’t need to hear them to know, I WANTED to hear them.  For confirmation.

And after waiting all this time to actually say what I wanted to say and hear what I wanted to hear, it feels exactly the way that I hoped it would.

Good.

Until next time…

The other night a friend sent me a message that said something along the lines of “did you ever have a day where you questioned everything?”

My response?

“Yeah!  Tonight!”

And it was so true.  I was stuck in my own head for most of the day questioning everything in my life.

Questioning things like:

• my ability to drive well
• my parenting skills
• my coaching skills
• the type of Christian I was
• was I the youth leader that I should be?
• Am I really supposed to be a youth leader?
• An evangelist?
• whether or not I was a good writer
• whether or not I was a good employee
• if I really did know all that I said I did about the techie stuff

But the biggest thing that I questioned was the location of God during all of this.  Where is He?  Why is He standing idly by while I’m over here trapped in my own mind?

And then I questioned whether or not I should really be upset by the piddly little happeneings in my life when we have people who are losing their homes due to hurricanes, those who have lost their loved ones in a war, mothers losing children, children losing parents, and all of the other things that I see on the news and in the community that surrounds me.

But, I know that if it’s important to me, then it’s important to Him.  I know that.  I’m confident in that.

One small hurdle that I’ve overcome.

So, after my little pity party, I spent some time with Him.  I think it’s what He’s been trying to do all along but I was too caught up in my own life to realize that.

In our time together, I went down my list of greivances.  I told Him what I wasn’t keen on and things that I would like to happen.  I might have mentioned that I would really like to do it my way, but that I would do it His way.  (I always like to be honest with Him, ya know.)

In the end, I’m not sure that I resolved anything of paramout proportions.  The things I was facing and questioning in my own life are still here today.  And they will be there tomorrow.  They aren’t things that I have control over, which sucks, in a way, because I like to have control.

Don’t we all?

The difference in where I was a few days ago and where I am today is that while I would like to have control, I know that if I can’t, I can have faith that there is someone far more qualified than me to handle it.

We can’t blame God for suffering of any kind.  We just can’t.  He doesn’t CAUSE the suffering… we do.  Satan does.  But He doesn’t.

But He uses that suffering for His good.  He uses it to draw us closer to Him.  He uses it so that we can extend grace to others.

I’m not trapped in a world of doubt today.  I don’t doubt my knowledge, my abilities or my faith.  And depsite the gloomy weekend that the weather forecasters are predicting this weekend, I’ve got my own forecast.

Bright.  Sunny.  Happy.  Spirit filled.

I like my forecast a whole lot better.

Until next time…

I vote every year.

I’m the geek that was excited the first time I was old enough to register to vote.  I’m still geeked about voting every single time the polls are open.

It’s my privlidge as a citizen of this country and I don’t take it lightly.

However, with that being said, I don’t get all political.  I don’t follow much and I ask several people who are well versed in politics on both sides of the fence to explain to me why they are voting the way that they are and I make my decision that way.

And I’ve never talked about polotics on this blog, nor have I debated with anyone over a political candidate or issue.

I never planned on partaking in either however, I’m a bit stirred up over some things going on in this election.

The buzz on Twitter about the announcement of the VP candidate was exciting to follow.  I never chimed in.  I don’t.  I’m not educated enough to talk about it.  It would be like you having a battle of wits with an unarmed person.

What’s the point?

However, I have to speak up about something and I’m going to try and keep this as non-partisan as possible.

Palin’s daughter, her unwed, seventeen year old daughter is pregnant.  Why are we judging a woman on this?  Why are we judging her experience and intellect on this fact?  Why are we judging HER based on the decisions that HER DAUGHTER made?

Some might say that she doesn’t have good parenting skills.  Perhaps, but I don’t think that’s really the case.

Let me give you a little background on me.

I was raised in a two parent home of a middle class family.  My mother is a nurse and my father a military officer. I had everything that I needed, alot that I wanted (except that ez bake oven, I never got one of those) and the instruction on life that every child should receive.

I was taught many things such as how to balance a check book, how to save money, how to budget, and most importantly, that I should not have sex until I was married.  These things were ingrained in me.  My parents did everything that they could to ensure that I was a contributing, functional member of society and could stand on my own two feet when I flew the coop at the age of 18.

Even though I knew, even though I was taught, even though they took the time to show me right from wrong, I decided, as most teenagers do, that I knew everything, my parents were stupid, and that I would live my life the way that I wanted to.

At 19, I was a single, unwed mother.

Did you get all that?

It didn’t matter what my parents taught me.  It didn’t matter what the school system taught me about sex.  The only thing that mattered was that I was living MY life the way I wanted to.

Period.

My father will tell you that he failed me as a parent.  It pains me to hear him say that, I mean, my stomach falls to the floor everytime I think about it.

He didn’t fail me as a parent.  He raised me the best way that he knew how, provided me with all the tools that I needed to live on my own and I made the decision to live my life differently.

I accept the ramifications 100% of all of the decisions that I made, but do not blame my father or my mother for the way that my life turned out.

So why are we judging Palin for her daughter making her own decisions?  Why are we dragging this through the mud?  And what bearing does this have on the election?

Before Palin is the Governor of Alaska.. before Palin is the VP candidate… Palin is a MOTHER.

And if you’re a mother, than you know that we worry about the decisions that our children will make.  We hope that the examples that we’ve set will carry through and that the choices they make will reflect the influence that we’ve had on them.

I pray every day that my daughter will not make the mistakes that I do.  But I also know that despite what I teach her, what she learns at school and at church, that the reality of it is, she could end up pregnant at the age of 17 or earlier.

I shutter at the thought.

But if she does, does that mean that I’m not able to do my job?  Does it diminish my intellect?  Am I suddenly less of a person than if she waits until she’s married and of age to have children?

Palin, like me, is a mother.  In addition to her career, she’s faced with providing and mothering her children.  I bet if you ask her, mothering is much harder than campaigning for the vice-presidency.

In all honesty, while I’ve seen the comments about how this announcement from the McCain camp will drive voters away and how he’s handed the presidency to Obama on a silver platter, I have to disagree.

For once, I’m taking notice.  I’m researching.  I’m learning more and more about a woman who is a lot like me.

For once, there’s a candidate that I can relate to.

And I have to wonder how many more people out there feel the same way?

Until next time…

I am not afraid to send my child to school for fear of school shootings.  I’m not afraid to get on an airplane for fear of it crashing.  I am not afraid to take teens to a rock concert for fear that I will have a heart attack.

I’m not afraid of anything that may result in death.

I am not afraid of dying or death.  Period.

Would I miss my children if, God forbid, someone decided that today was the day they would take their anger and agression out on their school?

Of course I would.  But I am of the mentality that “when it’s our time to go, it’s our time to go” and there’s nothing I can do about it.

I know many things about God but the biggest is that His name is not Heather.

Knowing this, I know that today could be my day.  Today could be the day that He calls me home.  Are there things that I’ve not yet accomplished in this world that I would like to?

Absolutely.  The red/blue combo in Guitar Hero is on that list among other things, like remarrying, having another child, and seeing NKOTB in concert… heh.

And honestly, who wouldn’t rather be in Heaven than here?  Bodies that are free of sickness?  Mansions?  Jesus?

Yeah, it’s a no brainer.

But what I fear more than death is how people will remember me.  Perhaps it’s conceited to wonder if people will miss me when I’m gone.  It’s a thought that I’ve had and, if I’m truly being honest, I struggle with confidence and wondering if I am a functioning member of society or just a waste of space.

(I don’t really think I’m a waste of space.  I know that I serve a purpose here on earth and that I will be here until I have served that purpose, at which time, I’ll be called home.)

Wow.  I could’ve eliminated the first few paragraphs of this post, because the last two sentances summarized what I was trying to say.

Anywho, back to my fear.

I fear that my children will not understand why I made certain decisions or that I’ll be judged for them.

I had a child when I had just turned 20, before I was married.  To a man, in hindsight, I probably shouldn’t have married…. for no other reason than I wasn’t ready to be married… but then again, I wasn’t ready to have a baby either, and that happened.

I struggled alot and grew up fast after Matthew came along.  There were times that I had to get creative to make ends meet or to get them something that they wanted and I vowed that I would make it all happen no matter what I had to do.

I was having way too much fun on Twitter last night and clicking links that I would see and ended up on the blog of Rodney Olsen in which he was talking about the Sad Life and Death of Dolores Aguilar.

Rodney posted an obituary of Dolores that has been circulating the internet and went so far as to research it on Snopes to insure it’s validity.  (Do you all know about Snopes?  Because all those forwards about missing children and people in parking lots?  Yeah, totally busted on snopes.)

Here’s what Delores’ obituary says:

Dolores Aguilar
1929 - Aug. 7, 2008
Dolores Aguilar, born in 1929 in New Mexico, left us on August 7, 2008. She will be met in the afterlife by her husband, Raymond, her son, Paul Jr., and daughter, Ruby.

She is survived by her daughters Marietta, Mitzi, Stella, Beatrice, Virginia and Ramona, and son Billy; grandchildren, Donnelle, Joe, Mitzie, Maria, Mario, Marty, Tynette, Tania, Leta, Alexandria, Tommy, Billy, Mathew, Raymond, Kenny, Javier, Lisa, Ashlie and Michael; great-grandchildren, Brendan, Joseph, Karissa, Jacob, Delaney, Shawn, Cienna, Bailey, Christian, Andre Jr., Andrea, Keith, Saeed, Nujaymah, Salma, Merissa, Emily, Jayci, Isabella, Samantha and Emily. I apologize if I missed anyone.

Dolores had no hobbies, made no contribution to society and rarely shared a kind word or deed in her life. I speak for the majority of her family when I say her presence will not be missed by many, very few tears will be shed and there will be no lamenting over her passing.

Her family will remember Dolores and amongst ourselves we will remember her in our own way, which were mostly sad and troubling times throughout the years. We may have some fond memories of her and perhaps we will think of those times too. But I truly believe at the end of the day ALL of us will really only miss what we never had, a good and kind mother, grandmother and great-grandmother. I hope she is finally at peace with herself. As for the rest of us left behind, I hope this is the beginning of a time of healing and learning to be a family again.

There will be no service, no prayers and no closure for the family she spent a lifetime tearing apart. We cannot come together in the end to see to it that her grandchildren and great-grandchildren can say their goodbyes. So I say here for all of us, GOOD BYE, MOM.

Don’t you want to cry?  I’m sure at times we’ve all harbored resentment toward our parent, but is any of it that bad that you would want to post this in the paper for all the world to see?

I don’t know.  As many struggles as I’ve had with my parents, I would never say anything like this about them, nor would I publically talk about it.

Then again, my parents don’t fit any of the traits that Delores exhibited either.

But it made me stop to think.

How are my children going to remember me when I’m gone?  Am I going to remembered as Delores was, or are they going to one day see everything that I have in my heart for them and see that I did the best I could with what I had and that no matter what, the struggles with homework, the discipline, the groundings, were simply so that I could teach them to be functioning members of society?

No, I’m not afraid of death.  But I am afraid that I’m not living my life the way that I should be, living a life that’s going to leave a legacy to others, living the way God wants me to live.

And so, I embark today on our annual church camping trip.  Time to get away from the hustle and bustle of the thriving metropolis of Roanoke and computers and cell phones and everything else in this world that provides a distraction.

It’s time to make sure that my kids know that short of God, they are the most important things in my life.  And I say that not because I want a nice obit in the paper one day, but because I truly mean it.

Until next time…