3 Things That Will Make Your Life a Bit Happier

I've been thinking about this a lot lately, and here is what I've been making an effort to do. And, yes, it is making a difference.

1. Move your body. Get up and get physical. Or lie down and get physical. ;) Just do something to get your blood moving for just 15 or 20 minutes. And then do it again tomorrow.  One of my favorite methods is also the easiest. Put on some music that you love and dance around your living room.  Wave your hands and shake your bootie.  It doesn’t matter if you look like a lunatic. You’ll feel better for it. Trust me.  

Note- Dressing up as The Incredibles isn't entirely necessary, but it helps.  ;)



2. Make a point to be happy for other peoples’ successes. When you find yourself about to criticize someone else for no reason other than the fact that they have achieved something you haven’t, just stop. Take a soft, deep breath. Imagine their success as your success, their happiness as your happiness. Practice this phrase, “Good for them”. And mean it. When they feel good, it does not take away from your ability to do so. Use them as inspiration and be grateful for the example.

3. Stop avoiding reality. Focus on the here and now. Feel into your body and notice where it is that you’re you, with your feet on the ground, your butt in your chair, whatever you’re doing, just be there with it for 3 long, soft breathes. Many habits interfere with your ability to really feel this moment of your life for what it is… fantasizing about the past (or future), television, constant busy-ness, obsessive worrying, drinking, drugs. What these things all have in common is that they pull your attention and your energy away from the present moment. The here and now is the only time in which you can actually live your life… one moment after another, one breath after the next.  You don't want to miss it.

So enough from me.  What is it that you all do to grow the happiness in your life?

If You Have an Imagination, You Have Freedom

I want to share a fantastic poem with you this morning. It was written by our friend Raven, who is 11. And let me just say right now that this poem is as good, or better than, many I've read that were written by professional poets. Raven often tells her mom that she wants to be a writer when she grows up and her mother reminds her that she already is.

I completely agree.

What Freedom Means to Me

You ask what freedom means to me,
you want to know, ill say. Freedom is
the sky to the birds and their right to
fly away.

Freedom’s the song the crickets sing,
to lull their people to sleep.
Freedom’s the imagination of children,
thinking deep.

Freedom’s the sound of a mother,
cheering for her child.
Freedom’s a herd of horses, always
running wild.

Freedom’s two men hugging,
one is black and one is white.
Freedom’s a young girl fighting,
in the cover of the night.
Freedom’s brave men dying,
for what belongs to them.
Freedom’s a woman singing,
a lovely religious hymn.

Freedom’s people excepting,
one another for their race.
Freedom’s children frolicking,
in a large wide open space.

Freedom’s a small boy dreaming,
that he’s a proud and honorable knight.
Freedom’s a mother working,
for her family with all her might.

So you ask what freedom means to me,
and I have told you clear.
My poem is done,
for no you know,
that freedom is very dear.

And she has a little postscript to the poem, which is just as nice as the poem itself...
Freedom is the rights of people everywhere. We are still working for freedom in many ways yet we have attained many types of freedom. If you have an imagination, you have freedom. Freedom is a dream. Freedom is hope.

More background- Raven's teacher submitted this to an Elk's club competition and she won first place. After her mom told her that she'd won and asked her if she'd like to know what the prize was, Raven replied, "It doesn't matter. I won!"

A Tale of Two Grandmas- Part 1 (I think)

Last Thursday I received a call that my paternal grandmother had passed away in the night. Then on Sunday I received another call that my maternal grandmother had just passed that morning.

Neither of these calls were totally unexpected. Both women were in hospice care. They were both in pain, mentally and physically. In a lot of ways, it was a relief. What was hardest was the fact that they died within 3 days of one another.

It makes for a long and emotionally exhausting week.

However, the reason I stopped in here this morning is to share with you the songs that each of these women requested be played at their funerals. On more than one occasion in the last 10 years, each of my grandmas has played me their individual songs, making sure that if every other person in the family was suddenly struck with grief induced amnesia, I was to ensure that we heard these songs when we sat and pondered their lives.

And I have to say, their choices are completely spot on.

Losing two grandmas in the space of 3 days has thrown into sharp focus the differences and similarities of these two women. I've been thinking about how each of them handled society's pressure to be a good wife, mother and woman in a very different way. I may or may not share that here, depending on how coherently I can pull those thoughts together.

But for now, I think their songs say enough...

Thelma- Orange Blossom Special


(When they played this song during the funeral, I started to giggle and then I started to cry as well. I got to the place of such intense giggling and crying that my whole body was silently shaking. I was worried that it was going to just burst out in great waves of sobbing and snorting, but somehow I managed to maintain.)

Juanita- Riviera Paradise


(My MeMaw had a serious crush on Stevie Ray Vaughan. And I have to say I'm totally with her on that one. His music was so sexy and groovy. She never missed an episode of his on Austin City Limits. I hope that he meets her at the Pearly Gates playing this song and then busts right into The House is a Rockin', with her accompanying him on the piano.)

Family Christmas Ornaments

The first Christmas after I moved into my own apartment I realized that besides one or two metal engraved ornaments, I didn’t have anything of my own to put on the tree. It turned out to be the beginning of my love of all things crafty as my roommate and I worked to fill our tree with ornaments we made with our own two hands. Lots of sea glass, grape vines and seashells. It was the one and only time that my tree had a theme.

As pretty as that tree turned out, I didn’t want our kids to face their first Christmas tree without a box full of ornaments.Thus the annual ornament swap. Every year on the day after Thanksgiving we draw names. Then we have a little over a month to craft a unique ornament especially for that person. Usually the ornaments have something to do with their current interests and sometimes they’re just holiday pretties.

Each of our four kids now has a box of ornaments of their very own. Even if it does create an escalating issue with available real estate on the Christmas tree, it’s one of their favorite things about Christmas.

These are from Jeff to each of the kids.



Here are the ones that Kenzi received when she was in her Spongebob phase, which apparently lasted about 3 years.



Music has been an ever widening theme.



And these two make me grin every time I see them.




(Joey made this one for Jeff when she was 3.)

We have ornaments to commemorate trips to the emergency room and nicknames, hobbies and spiritual ideas. Mostly what I love about these is how ridiculously unique they all are, just like my family.

Some Perspective

In recent days, I’ve began to feel somewhat panicked. What if the polls are completely wrong and Obama loses? What if not only McCain wins, but, God forbid, he dies sometime during his presidency? Palin scares me worse than Dub-Ya did. I see her with a scary combination of Bush's intelligence and Cheney's drive. I fear living in a country where she is commander in chief, but I fear living outside of it even more.

It seems that so much depends on the outcome of this one election. I’ve cast my vote and knocked on doors, but those actions seemed so small compared to the magnitude of what we’re facing. And I have been working to put it in perspective. Jenny and I talked about how, win or lose, Obama has inspired so many people. And I do know that even if he wins, all of our problems will not magically disappear. And I also know that much worse things than John McCain becoming president have occurred in our nation’s history.

Although I knew these things rationally, I couldn’t really believe them in my heart. And this morning, I knew I needed to do something to get rid of the worry I was feeling.

And then I realized what part of the problem was. When I think of the change that I’m hoping for, it’s always in the future. Never something that could be achieved here and now. This isn’t a new idea to me, it’s something I’ve worked on in the past.



Part of what I hope for in my life, in the world, isn’t just about what we’ll do, but who we’ll be and how we’ll feel. It has to do with how one human looks at another. Do we do so with love and compassion or with fear and distrust? This is a crucial question. Maybe *the* crucial question.

And so I pulled my energy back toward myself, back to my thoughts, my feelings and my actions.

And then I felt that change in my heart that I was looking for. That our future does not hinge on one thing, no matter how wildly important it seems at the time. It’s the daily moments, hundreds, thousands… trillions of them, that create our world. Yes, much will change with the outcome of this election, but it isn’t everything. And it isn’t so much that we can’t continue to put things right day by day and breath by breath. Knowing this helped me to finally let go.



So today we will spend the day knitting and making tea and being the best people we know how to be. We will hold a vision of the world we want, the world we all deserve. We will drive people to the polls who need the ride and we will bring snacks to those standing in line to vote, whether they support my candidate or not. I will remember that I’ve been shown how to be a good person by one of the best. And that we are all in this together, however the chips may fall.

Peace.

Thoughtful Friday- Meditation

Meditation is a process of lightening up, of trusting the basic goodness of what we have and who we are, and of realizing that any wisdom that exists, exists in what we have already. Our wisdom is all mixed up with what we call our neurosis. Our brilliance, our juiciness, our spiciness, is all mixed up with our craziness and our confusion, therefore it doesn’t do any good to try to get rid of our so-called negative aspects, because in that process we also get rid of our basic wonderfulness. We can lead our life so as to become more awake to who we are and what we’re doing rather than trying to improve or change or get rid of who we are or what we’re doing.

- Pema Chodron in The Wisdom of No Escape and the Path of Loving Kindness

(Quote originally found at Throwing Marshmallows.)

Note- I just thought I'd mention that as I was looking through pictures to find a nice one to go with this quote, I found this one of Joey. She isn't so much meditating, as sitting quietly on top of the heater vent in a dress up dress, staring out the window. I think it pretty much sums up the meaning of the quote, though.

Love Your Body

Hey there. How’re you all feeling in your skin today?

I’m asking because today is Love Your Body Day. It’s sponsored by the National Organization for Women and its aim is to overcome negative body stereotypes. So, if you are normally critical of your body, just for today, I’m encouraging you to really make an effort to love it and appreciate everything it’s done for you. ‘Cause I bet it’s done a lot.


(Image created by Whitney Calvert of Linesville, Pennsylvania)

Really. Just stop for a moment and focus on and create a feeling of love in your chest. Now spread it out to your entire body. Doesn’t that feel better? How long do you think you could carry that feeling with you?

If you’re interested, you can go here for more suggestions of things you can do to celebrate your body. You can also look through all the posters and maybe even make one of your own to enter in the contest for next year's Love Your Body day.

Here’s my own personal love my body story.
At one point in my life, I stopped buying and reading women’s magazines and catalogs. As a teenager, I’d read them all and sometime in my 20’s, they just stopped being interesting to me. And then one day, after many years (including the birth of my daughter), I picked up a Victoria’s Secret catalog and was shocked. Who were those scrawny women with huge tits? They honestly looked like freaks to me. First of all, no one that incredibly thin has boobs that big. Secondly, and most importantly, they didn’t look like me. And my naked body was the only woman’s form that I’d seen in years. As far as I was concerned, my body was what a woman’s body looked like. Those *ideal* bodies looked weird and unnatural to me. And they certainly weren’t attractive.

At that moment, I felt like cheering. Ha ha, Madison Avenue, MY body is the standard, not your models’. And I don’t want any of your stuff ‘cause I don’t need it. I’m gorgeous just as I am. Suck on that.



Can I get an Amen!?

Thoughtful Friday- Writers Block

The problem isn’t figuring out what to write about (because my brain is always swirling with ideas), it’s getting the thoughts from my mind down into a more concrete form.

If I just sit down at the computer with the intention of writing something, usually nothing comes. The good ideas are more likely to come at inopportune moments, while I’m doing something else, like weeding, or laundry or most often, snuggled up in bed... those quiet moments when I can think. Then, somehow when I sit down to write, it’s surprisingly difficult to extract those jumbled thoughts bouncing around in my head and turn them into something even remotely coherent.

I could never get the totality of it out. It isn’t even that it’s stream of consciousness. That implies one long path. This is more like branches of consciousness, where one word in any one thought could spawn 8 new thoughts all flying off in their own direction. And it’s almost like I’m able to think them all at the same time. I don’t know if this is unique to me, or if we all experience monkey mind to this extreme degree.

To make my point, none of this is what I was thinking about this morning just as I was about to get out of bed to fire up the computer. This was when Joey came in looking sad because she’d had a bad dream.

As I lay there, cuddling her, I tried to repeat the seemingly important thoughts to myself so as to etch them in my memory. Then I realized that the moment of her needing this from me was a fleeting one and I should enjoy it while I could. Every day I read so many reminders from parent bloggers to really appreciate this time because it flies by fast. It has almost become a cliché. And it would be, except for the truth of it. A truth which I should probably understand more than the others. Most of them have kids that are still little, babies even. Our youngest is almost 10, our oldest is 18. Believe me, I know how quickly it’s gone. Much of it already is for us. One moment, you’re just hoping to survive the nights when you get no more than 90 minutes of sleep at one go, the next they’re moving out to live on their own.


(Joey and her big sis, Kenzi)

But, for now, Joey needs my arms to comfort her, so that’s what I do. And I do it without letting my mind be somewhere else. I focus on the sounds of our breathing, hers, faster and shallower than usual, because of the terror of the nightmare, mine, working to be slow and measured, in an effort to quell my impatience to be capturing the quickly fading thoughts in writing.

This is my meditation.

I calm myself in order to help her do the same. I can feel myself slowing and grounding and allowing her to learn that from me.

That, for me at least, is being a parent. I can’t remember one word that I’d planned to write. And I’m fine with that.

Are You Registered To Vote?

I've included two clips from the movie Iron Jawed Angels, which is based on the true story of the suffragists who sacrificed so much in order to earn American women the right to vote. They were jailed because they were picketing the White House and were charged with obstructing traffic.


(link)

For this second one, you might want to stop watching at about the 2 and a half mark if you're squeamish. It's worth watching at the beginning, though, because of the beautiful and inspiring song. I'll be singing it as I fill out my ballot.


(link)

I'd like to provide some info about voter registration for my American readers. IMPORTANT- Many states have deadlines in the next day or two.
-Last days to register to vote (by state)- Click Here
-Links to the various voting processes (by state)- Click Here
-At the top right of either of these pages is a red link that says Register To Vote. Click it to bring up an online form. Some states allow you to check your registration online. Most let you register online and some require you to print out the form, sign it and mail it in.
-If you really want to help your candidate (as well as be absolutely sure that your vote is verifiable in the case of a recount), request an absentee ballot. You don't have to stand in line and can take as long as you want to fill out the form, while sitting in the peace and quite of your own house.
-Another great resource is Project Vote Smart. This non-partisan site also has information about voter registration as well as voting records, biographies and interest group ratings for the various candidates.

The Light in Me Sees the Light in You

Almost exactly 2 years ago, we had baby showers for Jenny. Two actually, because she has lots of friends and family and, as it was, each party was pretty big. I take that back, we actually had three and the third one was a couples party mostly for Brad's friends from work, where everyone got drunk while drinking beer from sippy cups.

But, I digress.

I'd wanted her girlfriend parties to be more like a Blessingway, which is a spiritual version of the baby shower. It involves rituals to help ground and prepare the mom for labor and parenthood. And it can generally be a pretty deep experience. The reason we didn't go full on Blessingway is because they're more suited for a smaller, more intimate group of people, not the big bunch of rowdies that we're friends with. ;) We had thought of paring down the list of guests, but really wanted to share this unusual experience with as many of our friends as possible.





We did manage to incorporate a couple of Blessingway-type elements into the parties though. Our goal being to bring in spiritual ideas without beating people over the heads with them.

The first was that we made it Momma centered rather than baby centered (we all know there's plenty of time for that later), starting with the invitations that celebrated Jenny's belly. I layered velum over cardstock, lining up the B in Belly with the actual shape of her body. She was such a good sport to let me use a picture of her pregnant in a bikini, sticking out her tongue.

The most fun part of the parties was that we hired a belly dancer to teach all of us how to dance. The idea was to celebrate all of us as women and how fantastic our bodies are. Personally, I feel so much of our world is held together by the strength of our female bodies, the strength of our bellies and our hearts.







We also asked each guest to bring a candle for Jenny so that when she went into labor, she could be surrounded by the light and love of her friends and family. In return, we offered prayer candles for the guests to bring home and light for Jenny. During labor, the idea of a sea of candles representing your support network can be a very encouraging thought.


(This is a picture that Brad took while Jenny was actually in labor. You can see her reflection in the mirror.)

If you're interested in creating an actual Blessingway, these are the two books I'd recommend checking out. They're full of ideas to help plan meaningful rituals.


Mother Rising: The Blessingway Journey into Motherhood by Yana Cortlund, Barb Lucke & Donna Miller Watelet


Blessingways: A Guide to Mother-Centered Baby Showers--Celebrating Pregnancy, Birth, and Motherhood by Shari Maser

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Sun Salutation Update- I've done 6 of these for yesterday's comments.

Speechless (well almost)

Today, like most days really, I am very proud to be a woman. I just watched Michelle Obama's speech on TiVo and then followed it up with Hillary's live.





Speaking as a mother, I have hope for the future.


Happy Anniversary, Ladies.

ADDED NOTE- I'd also like to mention that Joey has willingly watched both of these speeches. I didn't ask her to do it, but she plopped herself down next to us on the couch. I love being able to pause the TV for her to ask questions. I feel this recent election cycle has been a great homeschooling opportunity for her.

Seeing Barack and Michelle's daughters and learning that the oldest is just about her own age was especially interesting to her. She was also impressed that both of these ladies gave speeches yesterday at the hotel where her uncle works. She's always more interested in historical stuff once she realizes that all of the figures are (or were) actually real people. Which is something I think a lot of us tend to forget.

Thoughtful Friday

Praise and blame, gain and loss, pleasure and sorrow come and go like the wind.
To be happy, rest like a giant tree in the midst of them all.

-Buddha

Thoughtful Friday

May the longtime sun shine upon you,
All Love surround you,
And the pure light within you,
Guide your way home.
Guide your way home...

-Traditional Sufi Blessing

Good News Indeed

Jeff just sent me an interesting link. It's basically Google News if all the awful things in the world had the best possible solutions.


As I read through it, this song kept humming itself through my brain.

Some of my favorite headlines...
China Withdraws from Tibet, with Apologies

Successful third round of trials for AIDS vaccine

Barry Bonds' secret: I owe it all to yoga

President signs single-payer health care into law (That's president Obama, mind you.)

Long-awaited spray-on solar coating now available


And one of my personal favorites
Serenity sequel tops box office six weeks running


Though, reading this and realizing that none of it is true (yet) is somewhat disheartening. Any of you think we've got a chance of making this a reality?

Happy Mother's Day, Grandma Sandy

This is a letter from the lady who thought I could handle this whole parenting thing. (And who I miss very much every single Mother's Day.)









Isn't this what mothers are for, to remind us of the best in ourselves, so that we are encouraged to carry that goodness out into the world and share it?

Thanks for everything you've given me, Mom. I miss you.


(This is me, our mom and Jenny in Kentucky. She liked to put us in matching outfits. She might actually have been a bigger dork than I am.)

Explanatory Notes-
-When I was born, I had meconium aspiration (yep, I breathed my own poo) and had to be in an incubator for awhile.
-Because I was in distress when I was born, they sort of forgot about my mom, who had some issues with the placenta and a tipped uterus and consequently had trouble walking for awhile.
-My parents were divorced.
-My dad and I have always had a... difficult relationship. And my mom was always explaining his side of things to me, trying to get us to work it out. Her comment about him is not a backhanded insult. She really meant it and hoped that we could have a good relationship.
-I do love my dad, we just don't exactly function on the same plane of existence.
-I found this note laying on my pillow after one weekend that my mom had come to visit. It wasn't for any special occasion; it wasn't even May. I was probably 21 at the time.
-I spent all morning looking for the original of this note that my mom wrote on pink paper. I could only find the scrapbooked version that I'd photocopied years and years ago.

Oh yah, Happy Mother's Day to all my fellow moms out there! Remember, it's up to us to make the world better, one kid at a time.

Namaste.

Campaign for Burma

Something to think about...



A list of sponsors of the Beijing Olympics can be found here.

We Really Did It!

Friday was a very good day.

We showed up at St. Baldrick's with plenty of time to see the Avalanche players who were getting shaved, which, for me and Joey, was a very big deal. It was such a big deal to me in fact, that when I walked up to them to ask them to sign our shirts, I completely lost my mind.

I had thought briefly about what I wanted to say, "We're getting our heads shaved too. Would you sign the back of my shirt? We're huge fans." You know, normal stuff. But the moment I started speaking, complete gibberish came out of my mouth. I used all the words I had intended, just not in the right order.

What I said to Liles was, "Would you shave my shirt?"

Um yah. Really.

I guess it could have been worse. I could have asked him to shave my back. Anyway, they were still nice enough to not only sign the back of my shirt, but pose for a picture with Joey. It's a small miracle that the picture wasn't more blurry.

That is Tony Granato, John-Michael Liles, Ian Laperriere and Ben Guite, oh yah, and my daughter, too. I know that most of you probably have no idea who these guys are, but I was star-struck. In fact, I'd rather meet Ian Laperriere than Brad Pitt. His nose isn't as pretty, but there are more important things than pretty noses.

Did I mention that the only reason we still have TV is to watch Av's games? We were set to get rid of it and then Forsberg and Foote came back. Oh well, maybe after the playoffs.

OK, so just as a frame of reference, here's what we looked like the week before. We wore these somewhat inappropriate shirts to get donations. When you wear these, people walk up to you and ask to give you money.


Can you believe Aurora's hair?! (And see, I told you about mine.)

St. Baldrick's was loud and crowded and when it was our turn to get shaved, everybody cheered.


Aurora immediately started crying (because she does that).



I just couldn't stop grinning.



Isn't Jenny adorable?



First, they cut off our piggy tails and braids and then they went to work with the clippers.





So, here's the deal. If you wanna see ALL of the pictures from Friday, you'll have to pony up over at St. Baldrick's. Then I'll send you links to the actual baldy pictures.

'Cause I'm mean like that.



For those of you who've already donated, I should be emailing those links out shortly. Aurora, Jenny and I all thank you so much for your generosity!

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12 More Hours

I've been sort of consumed lately with projects around the house. I've been busy painting Randa's room and the kitchen and I've been mucking through and organizing the play and craft rooms. I've also been trying to decide on fabric for new shades for just about every window we have. We haven't changed them since we moved in 4 years ago and I really hate what's up right now. I'm also almost finished with Joey's Easter dress. Oh yah, and I've been Feng Shui-ing the hell out of this place.

It feels like I'm pregnant and nesting, but I know that I'm not. (Seriously. I'm not.) It's just that feeling that I can do nothing but paint and sew and clean and get rid of extra crap.

There's lots going on, and I've been taking pictures of the disasters in progress (which is how I do this sort of thing- I'm a tornado trashing and cleaning everything in my path until one day, it starts to fall into place), so hopefully I can get them posted one of these days.

Unlike Aurora, I haven't even found time to blog, much less to pine for my soon to be gone tresses. Though 'tresses' might be stretching it- with my hair this long I look a lot like Cameron Diaz in Being John Malkovich.


Any pictures that I've shown of my long hair have been snapped immediately after much brushing, curling, etc. I hope Locks of Love doesn't send it back.

Anyway, the reason I sat down at the computer was to talk one last time about St. Baldrick's before I go under the knife (OK, just clippers, but still). Which, by the way, will be at 8:45 tomorrow morning.

We're really doing this in honor of two people. The first is my mom (thus the team name) and the second is a little girl named Alyssa Rose Hemmelgarn. My mom died on March 15th, 1997. Alyssa passed away on March 8th, 2007 at the age of 9, just 10 days after she was diagnosed with Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia.

Yes, I said 10 days.

Just thinking of that gives me a lump in my throat and makes me feel ill. Before she had any idea she was sick, Alyssa had grown out her hair for 2 years to donate to Locks of Love. Three months after she cut it off, she was gone.

A week or so ago, Joey was reading over my shoulder as I typed up an email about Alyssa and St. Baldrick's. She quietly went to her room and returned with $30 of her own money. It was about half the money that she'd managed to save up for a Wii and she wanted to donate it to help fight childhood cancer.

Knowing that we've managed to raise a kid who could do that makes me more proud than I can say.

Some Thoughts on Happiness

The key to your happiness and contentment lies within you,
within your own heart and mind.
The way you start each day is very important;
you can start off on the right foot or the wrong one.
You can wake up with a song of joy and gratitude in your heart for the new day,
for being alive, for the very wonder of living,
and for being in tune and harmony with the rhythm of all life.
You can expect the very best from the coming day and therefore draw it to you.
Or you can start the day with a chip on your shoulder,
disgruntled and out of rhythm.
You are responsible for what today will bring,
and knowing it gives you an even greater responsibility
than those souls who are not aware of it and therefore know no better.
You cannot blame your state of mind on anyone else.
It all starts with you.

-Eileen Caddy (from The Spirit of Findhorn)

Sandy

My mom passed away almost 11 years ago on March 15th, just 16 days before her 50th birthday. She had breast cancer. I was 22 at the time, the oldest of her four kids.

So, obviously, she's no longer around to give motherly advice. Sometimes I think that's why Jenny and I rely so much on each other. We each fill that mom roll to the other. Weird. I know. But, it seems to work. We just take turns, depending on who needs to be the kid most at the time.

Our mom doesn't answer the phone when I call and she can't come over for dinner. We can't talk about how I was as a child or the similarities between me and Joey.

Until recently, I also happened to believe that she was no longer available for craft projects.

I was wrong. Because she did manage to make an Easter dress.



Thanks to the fact that my mom had as many unfinished projects as I do, I recently discovered an almost entirely completed, yellow, smocked dress. I have no idea who she started it for, but I know that it now belongs to Joey.

Looking at this makes me feel at peace.

Honestly.

It makes me cry, but they're happy tears. When I look at this, I don't feel angry or bitter that she's gone. I feel like she's right here with me. I feel like an adult and a kid, a mother and a child... all in the same instant.

And I know that everything is OK.

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