Posts Tagged With: children


As it was just Mother’s Day, I feel compelled to write something about them.

I have nothing against mothers, but I could more easily write about a fork.  Really. I could write you a nice little blog about the fork in the road, or the fork that I stuck in your hand, or the way I sometimes just don’t give a fork.

But mothers? The subject encompasses too much and I wouldn’t know where to begin.

So what I’ll do, rather than burn my few remaining cranky old menopausal brain cells, is share a few random thoughts with you about mothers or mothering.

***AM I STILL A MOTHER even though my only child has passed away? I don’t usually leave the house on mother’s day because it hurts when well-intentioned people say things like, “Happy Mother’s Day!” or worse yet, “Are you a mother?”

***THE LOSS OF MY INFANT SON changed my life forever,” I said to my therapist, tearfully. “I not only lost him, but I was robbed of an entire lifetime and a completely different lifestyle.”

“You need to let it go.” She replied.

Then she suddenly switched gears and quickly grabbed her briefcase off the floor.

“Oh, I’m so excited, I’ve finally got my daughter’s wedding pictures and I can’t wait to show them to you! Do you  want  to  see?” She asked brightly.

The thought crossed my mind to snatch them from her hand and set fire to them. Then gone would be her precious paper memories. Poof! And then SHE could just get over it.

“Sure.” I replied.

Later in the car, I cried the entire way home.

***I HAVE GIRLFRIENDS who are mothers. And in my eyes, THEY ARE SUPER HEROS! They astonish me with all they can accomplish in any given day. And they do it ALL. With grace. And humor. And love. I am in awe of every single one of them. I must remember to remind them of that.

***MANY OF MY FRIENDS have had to mother their own parents. We are of that generation. I admire and am humbled by them.

***MOM IS THE ONE who will be there no matter what. So what happens when she’s gone? I have friends who have lost one or both parents . . . and it breaks my heart.

***NO MATTER HOW MEEK OR SHY some of us may feel at times, most of us turn into a MOMMA BEAR if someone threatens harm to a child. We don’t even have to know that child and we would protect them without hesitation. We need to protect and love our own child within with the same voracity and ferociousness. We must learn to mother, nurture, and protect ourselves.

***I HAVE THE MOST REMARKABLE GIRLFRIENDS who have mothered me at times. I am grateful for their comfort, love, and precious time. They touch and inspire me.

***MY MOM created some special memories for us children. Here are two of my favorites:

1) All six of us kids would sit at the dining room table and mom would provide us with all the makings for homemade pizza:flour, dough, sauce, and a variety of toppings, and we all made our own individual mini pizzas for dinner.

2) All four of us sisters would sit in a row in front of the television set, and with a gentle touch, mom would brush and curl our hair; one by one. Sometimes I would get “spit” curls or banana curls, and sometimes the Marlo Thomas, “That Girl”, flip.

Please tell me, what are your favorite memories of you and your mom?

Categories: Family, Friends, Grief/Healing, Holidays/Birthdays | Tags: , , , , , | 29 Comments


“Julie, wait. You need to adjust your pants. You’ve got to look natural or you’re so busted. Now strap this to your waist and pull the top down over it. There, how do you feel?” Mary asks.

“How do you think I feel?” I ask sarcastically. “I mean it! I’m not even kidding! I know I said I’d do this and I’ll do it, but I’m really not in the mood.”

Mary smiles faintly and is about to speak, but changes her mind.

“Yeah, yeah”, I continue complaining, “I see that smile; you’re so funny. I mean it; just give me the damn bag already.”

I step outside and my eyes squint as the bright noon sun pierces them. I feel every one of the day’s 87 degrees as the sweat trickles down my back and underneath my arms. This is my first time and I’m hot, and cranky, and unprepared.

I jog slowly down the sidewalk and around the corner.

“I just need to get there and get this over with.” I grumble.

Upon arrival, I walk to the back of the small house and open the chain link fence. My heart races as I sprint into the backyard, grinding my alto voice and roaring from deep within.

“MMM!” I bellow, “Me want cookies! Big Bird sent me! He says someone has birthday today! Me want cookies!”

Within seconds, four year old children swarm towards me like happy, squealing, little honey bees.

“Hey! It’s Cookie Monster! Cookie Monster’s here! Yay!”

Some wrap themselves around my legs while others hang off of my arms like big Christmas tree ornaments. Within minutes I’m flat on my back in the grass, laughing and flailing wildly.

I pass out coloring books from my white bag and the helium balloons that I’ve been holding in my oversized, furry, blue hands.

My sister, Chris, walks by and I grab her butt.

“MMM, Momma! Nice cookies!” I shout.

She yells and slaps at me, and parents screech with childish delight.

Soon the kids line up to say goodbye. My niece, the birthday girl, a petite, precious little thing, hugs me firmly and looks up into my big googly eyes.

“I have your picture on my wall” she says earnestly in her sweet, tiny voice, “I love you Cookie Monster!

I tear up, swallow the lump in my throat, and take a breath.

“MMM! Cookie Monster loves you too! Me thinks you yummy like little cookie! Yum! Yum! Yum!” I say and hug her back.

Then off I go, trotting down the sidewalk back towards Mary’s.

As I make my way, a passing car slows and a little girl hangs out of its window shouting, “Hi Cookie Monster!”

I wave my big blue hand, do a little dance, and continue on.

Moments later, a woman comes from her home with her son and a camera and asks if she can take a picture. I am happy to oblige.

I arrive at Mary’s and change back into my civilian clothes.

Now, I head back to the party . . . . once again.

“Aunt Julie! Aunt Julie!” My niece yells with excitement as I enter the backyard, “Cookie Monster was here!”

“Oh right; sure,” I say hoarsely and brush right past her, “like Cookie Monster would really come here; you’re so funny.”

“Really! Really!” She shouts.

I wipe the sweat from my face with the back of my hand, gently push past the children, and plop into a lawn chair. I am overheated and exhausted.

I glance over at my sister. She smiles.

I smile back.

And wink.

It’s been a good day.

Categories: Adventures, Family, Holidays/Birthdays, Humor | Tags: , , , , , , | 27 Comments

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