Tag Archives: lessons


This was among the entries for a “forgiveness post card” contest.  I thought it was incredibly powerful and could mean so much for so many.  We are all silenced at times… intentional or not… what silences you?  Do you now fly?  Is there anything I can do?


No fear – burn the paper tigers

The most difficult thing is the decision to act, the rest is merely tenacity. The fears are paper tigers. You can do anything you decide to do. You can act to change and control your life; and the procedure , the process is its own reward.  Amelia Earhart

Take it to heart. Enjoy the journey.

Am I the only one who thinks this…

Here’s the thing, the “booty pop” is just wrong on so many levels! Why do we continue to imprint our younger women with the message that who they are is just “not enough”? How young are we starting the message? How long does that memory last? I think that we could fairly say that the memory of that message lasts a long time – considering the number of young & adult women who are apparently buying things like booty pop. Of course, the booty pop is just one of the most recent body changers I’ve seen advertised, but it stands out (literally) among many.  From stuffing your bra (although THAT was never my problem) to wearing whatever everyone else was wearing regardless of size or body shape, season, color, etc. –  you tried to make it work.  BUT, there comes a point when those things should lose priority and you move on, letting your inner pride scream. You recognize the lack of logic and how at the most practical level the obsession becomes almost ridiculous.  For those that haven’t had that “A-Ha” moment… it’s not too late.

And here’s the other thing I don’t get… if you’ve ever been a teenager you have memories of being the laughER as well as the laughEE!  We laugh hysterically at the memories of girls pulling rolls of toilet paper out of their bras in the back seat of somebody’s daddy’s car… What’s wrong with this picture (and I can’t wait to see the movie with this scene)??? “Hey baby, bring that firm round butt over here… …now …… drop those draws and show me that flat a** you got hiding under there?????” What are we thinking??  Insanity, I tell you.

Sweetpea – Happy Father’s Day

There is something to be said about being a Daddy’s Girl! And anyone who has ever felt this way knows exactly what that means. My daddy (though I pronounced it “diddy” which often came out more like “deity” with a southern drawl – go figure) just had a way with life. Don’t get me wrong, he was no saint, and I know it. But he was perfect for me. From the time I was a little child, I thought that I was the sun and the moon – so did each of my sisters, and all of us were right.

He just had a perspective on life that I believe contributed significantly to my own outlook. He found humor everywhere. He never met a stranger. He had tough expectations, but he never left me hanging without the tools to meet them. He found value in everybody and every situation. He genuinely cared about the wellbeing of everyone he encountered, as well as those he would never come across. If he had it, he gave it. If he knew it, he shared it. He was my worst critic and he was also my champion when I got in trouble, in either case always with unquestionable love.

He passed away 5 years ago and I miss him every day. I hear him in my thoughts and see him in my dreams. The “contract” we operated under was really very simple and worked in almost all situations. I knew it, even though it was never written down or discussed. If it had been written down it would have said: “1. I get to say/ask/confess whatever I want; 2. Sweetpea gets to say/ask/confess whatever he wants to about it; 3. Sweetpea gives me the choice to create whatever outcome works for me and he (does) say, “Whatever you work out, I will support it.” And he meant it. I think that was the birth of my critical thinking skills. He knew that he had guided me as best he could, that I valued his opinion, that I knew right from wrong, and good from bad. He was clear that if I was going to be the best I could be that I would have to know how to think through things – not from concern about what everybody else would think or do, but from a place of love and integrity. He understood that making choices in life would rarely satisfy everyone but that ultimately, for my own sake, they would have to satisfy me. There were no rose colored glasses and there were missed opportunities. I made some choices better than others and sometimes the outcomes were painful for more than just me. But NEVER did I have to worry that any of my choices/decisions would result in him pulling back on his love! The contract intact, I always knew that I had his love and support. Not a saint. And not a deity. Just Sweetpea!