Beautiful Soul

Little girl with the bruises on your arms and legs, from the beating you took the night before. You feel hopeless, unwanted by your own flesh and blood. Put off daily to fend for yourself, and your siblings. Looking for food, and knowing the only place you’ll get it is at school… if you make it there the next day. Your house has no heat in the winter, and no cool air in the summer. You barely fit in your clothes. They either swallow you up or are so small you cannot fasten or secure them. Where are your shoes? You gave them to your little sister, so she wouldn’t have to walk to school without any tomorrow.

You are a beautiful soul.

Little boy who battles with the voices in your head, telling you to do harm to yourself and others. Dealing with an internal struggle most adults cannot survive. Bullied, called names, often in trouble for fighting at school, and ignored by those who should care. On the outside you appear to have it all. The family looks happy. You have a nice house, with your own room. You have a dog, toys, games, and you want for nothing… except the love and attention you so badly crave from those around you. And yet, you sit alone, entertaining the voices you battle against, because while they are your enemy, they are also your only friend.

You are a beautiful soul.

Young lady with the beautiful eyes, and the smile that never, quite reaches them. Hidden from the world, in your dark corner. Depression and anxiety are the oppressions that burden you. You feel your friends have abandoned you, your family constantly fights with you, and you are so lonely. You have pulled away from everyone who has hurt you. Your pills have become the only link to sanity you believe you have left, and yet they are not enough when times get harder. And yet harder, they continue to become. You look in the mirror, and the ghost of your reflection gazes back at you, broken and empty, and all you          want is the pain to go away.

You are a beautiful soul.

Young man with the perfect job, your own house, starting a new family, and living the dream… yet tormented by your own nightmares every night. You struggle with the monsters and demons of your past. Things have happened in your life that were beyond your control, yet you blame yourself. Your wife supports you, and you have countless friends who would help you, if you could just let them in. But you feel like you cannot. You look at the face in the mirror, and hate the reflection you see. Your mind wants you to end it all, but your will is strong, and you carry on. You are determined to make it through, but struggling to figure out how, because you cannot on your own.

You are a beautiful soul.

Loving mother of 3 children; bouncing, hollering, energetic, bundles of joy. Every time you look at your little men you hope and pray that you are raising them right. But it is hard to be mom and dad to boys. There have been times you feel like a failure to your kids, many times, in fact. You go to bed tired, after working your full-time job. Were the bills paid on time? Was there enough to take care of their needs? Was anything missed today? Anything forgotten? You feel like the teachers and babysitters may know your babies better than you do. Split many ways, and barely able to take proper care of your own self, you are worn and frazzled, and yet you trudge on because those babies mean the world to you, despite what anyone else may say or do. Maybe one night you’ll sleep soundly, feeling secure for yourself and your kids. But until that day, you will fight your own inner battles, and any of the battles they face as well, because you are the strength and security in their lives, and they are your life.

You are a beautiful soul.

Gentleman with the silver highlighted hair, marking your wisdom and time on this earth, the kind face, and giving hands, you are a man sought after by many for your wisdom, but you are tired. Having lived life, and made your mistakes, you want nothing more than to spare future generations from doing the same. You have watched your children grow, and build their own families. Now, you have the privilege of watching your grandchildren grow as well. You love being the best example for all the little eyes watching you, but time has worn you down. Every day is more precious to you than the one before, and you fear you will leave this earth before you have shared all your wisdom to the younger generations, and so you write. You write your soul, your heart, and your wisdom in hopes that they will someday read, and take to their hearts the words you have shared. The writing on the pages is shaky from your aged hands, and splotchy from the tears that fell from your eyes onto the aged paper. And yet you continue, because you wish only the best for those who will follow you.

You are a beautiful soul.

To all the beautiful souls, remember who you are. Find yourself if you feel lost. Be happy, and be at peace. Stay strong, live free, and continue to grow more beautiful with every experience. Struggles in life will leave marks on your soul, until the end. Some call them scars, but I call them milestones. They are reminders of what you have survived, and how you have grown. You are born with a beautiful soul. And regardless of what life does to your mind, your body, and your heart, your soul remains…beautiful.

Rain

Rain is perceived in many ways. For some, the rain reflects the sadness they feel. For others, it is refreshing and invigorating. When the clouds roll in some say it’s gloomy, just how they feel at that moment. Others get excited, and sit outside in anticipation of the coming downpour. Some stand still, in the rain, so it hides their tears (I’ve done that). Some dance in it because it makes them feel good, free, and full of happiness (I’ve done that, too).

When we go too long without rain, we feel the heat from the sun all too strong. The ground dries up, and sometimes things die. When it rains too much, the ground floods, and again, sometimes things die. So, why is it that the thought of rain makes me smile?

Well…

Have you ever tasted the rain? Fresh, falling from the sky? Just stand under the countless, cascading drops, open your mouth, and laugh or squeal every time one hits your eye instead of your tongue?

Have you ever listened to the rain? When the rain starts to fall, do you sit outside, or open a window, and just listen? Do you hear the sound, the peaceful flow of water in the wind, and the rhythm of the drops as they land? It resembles a sigh; a long, exhale releasing tension in the air.

Have you ever danced in the rain? Have you thrown your shoes to the side, and ran carefree into the downpour of cool, cleansing, refreshing rinse from Mother Nature? It doesn’t have to be some happy dance. Just step out into the falling water, stepping to your own tune in your head, and feel it wash over you.

I remember being a child who enjoyed the rain. When the rain came, I was ready to play! My brother and I would go out into the yard and wait for the ditch to fill, and we would take toy cars, boats, and planes out there and create a world that was divided by a flowing river. My grandmother would set out pots and buckets to catch rainwater for her gardens. I used to sit in the opening of our garage, with my father, and watch the lightning during storms. He would tell me how lightning worked, and how it affected where it struck. We would count the seconds from the flash until the sound of thunder started.

The other day, My son enjoyed the rain we had. As I watched him run, play, laugh, and catch raindrops in his hands and on his tongue, I remembered the carefree days of childhood, doing the very same thing. It did my heart good, for many reasons.

If you are having a time in your life that is dry, look for your rain. When that rain comes, step out into the cleansing water. Reach for it, stand in it, dance in it. Cry in it, if you need to. Let it wash away the dirt and grime that has been covering you. Know that somewhere, when the rain falls, I will be doing the same.

Mother's Day and Me

“I don’t know how you do it!” Is often a phrase I hear from people, when asked how my life has been lately. Well, I’m not going to lie. I tell them how it is, what’s been going on, and give them MOST of the updates they are asking for. And if I were to guess, my response is probably not very different from most other moms out there in this generation, “Honestly, I don’t know how I do it either.”

And how do I do it? First, I wake up in the morning, groggy as all get out, because someone was up in the night sick, had nightmares, or just wanted that last chance at sneaking into the kitchen for a drink of water. Oh, and then there’s the kids’ issues too. Then, I round up the troops (or three musketeers) to get them out the door for school. Once they are safely deposited there, I return home to clean, take care of the four-legged kids, and catch up on other chores (bills, Dr. appts, other business phone calls, etc). At the end of the school day I fetch the minions from their place of education and either return home or go on to other destinations. Grocery shopping is often done while they are at school, because who wants to take three boys into the store?! “Mom! I want this! Can I have that? Mom, when can we leave? Oh! Look! A fidget spinner!” Yeah…no.

Don’t forget the seasonal sports! Practices, picture day, games, team events, etc. Thankfully, this year, I have only had one child engaged in a sport per season. Whew!

Video games and computers are often my live-in nanny for shower time, cooking dinner, folding laundry, cleaning out the car, or just hiding in the bathroom (don’t shake your head, you do it too Mom) just to BREATHE.

Then, there’s feeding an army of boys. Boy-moms…you know what I’m talking about! My oldest, Titus, is 11. He’s literally shot up at least 6 inches in the past 2 months, and will be taller than my 5ft7in self before his 12^th birthday! He is slightly selective in his eating, but neither of his younger brothers (Levi -9, Micah -6) have that problem. So, keeping food in my house is almost as strenuous as keeping it clean! I live in the dungeon of dirty socks, underwear, wet shoes, muddy, ripped jeans and shirts, and Nerf bullets everywhere! Half the time, when I walk into my house the lights are all out. When I open the front door, I might hear, “Mom! Close the door! Micah will see my location!” Then I might trip and stumble over blockades and boundary lines from my front door to my bedroom, where I escape from possible, friendly fire.

Oh, don’t worry. I haven’t strayed away from my “this is my day, every day” story. This is really it. Every day. So, let’s move on to supper.

My house is frequently filled with people who are not my biological children, but I claim them… sometimes. They aren’t even “children” per-say. But, they’re all my kids, so it seems. So, I literally do feed an army in my house quite often. I make sure food is done, and that my children (that I gave birth to) are fed first, then the rest come in and scavenge the remains of what has been cooked. Some nights we have a bonfire in the fire pit outside. Some nights we settle in front of a movie. There have also been nights when the Nerf Wars take over the house, and I hide in my bedroom to survive. Some nights the family doesn’t get to dinner until a tad later than planned, and everyone eats and goes to bed. *Sigh* There are times I reflect on my world and wonder if I’m a mom, or a zoo-keeper.

Bath time is often a battle between myself and my little men. Like many boys, they do not see the need for DAILY bathing, and try to get out of such a ghastly chore. From manipulation to downright begging, and finally to mommy giving in to let them play in the tub... Hey, as long as they clean it out, I win! Booyah! 

Once we have gone through our day, from waking groggy to collapsing into bed the same way, I do my best to fall asleep before I remember something I missed, and then wake to tackle the next day all over again.

Now, I haven’t even got to the fun part yet. In 95% of my parenting life, I have done this either working a full-time job, going to school full time, or BOTH. So, there’s a work schedule and school assignments to fit in there… Somewhere. I have also managed to maintain a chuck of this parenting life as a single mother as well.

In some ways, I am tooting my own horn, so to speak. And with good reason. There have been many days and nights I have sat in my bed, or on the bench on my porch, wondering if I’m really doing this right. Am I a good mother? Do I spend enough time with my kids? Am I raising children who will be successful in life? Have I made too many mistakes today? Did I handle this situation, or that, as I should have? I believe I stress myself out more than I should over my role as a mother. But, as a mother, I cannot help myself. I am not raising me, my mother did that QUITE WELL. I am raising three boys. I want them to be the best that they can be, and there are times I feel like I am failing them in that aspect. I know better, but deep inside, I will always want to make sure I am doing the best for them.

In doing what is best for my children, I often make decisions that don’t result in happy faces, but that’s okay. I put myself aside for them, and I do it willingly. But, I do it too much. Is that selfish of me to say? As I type this, I believe so, but I know in my heart that it isn’t. Why? Because if we, mothers, forget ourselves, we will lose our children. Remember that. Take care of you. Stay healthy; physically, mentally, emotionally, and your kids will be better for it. I don’t get “me time” enough, and most of the time I’m okay with that. I shouldn’t be. I need to take my own advice, and set aside some time for ME. Doing something that helps me relax and enjoy myself away from it all. Because I stay healthy that way, and I am at my best. And, when I am at my best, my children are better off.

Now, I’m off to do my daily thing!