Dreamed a Dream

         Goodnight sweet moon.  Goonight sweet Loela.  Goodnight.            

   This morning I woke to find myself at the corner of first and fabulous.  My skinny jeans slipped on without a glitch and all my laundry that lay crinkled on my bed was magically hung up, by color.  The pink ribbon in my hair tied perfectly. My lips were slicked with sweet mint balm and my cheeks, pink with happiness.  I walked in my bathroom to see my dog using the toilet instead of my floor, then she made my bed.  I walked down my stairs without slipping, tripping, stumbleing or falling. I used the right key to lock my door. I got in to my truck without spilling my drink.  My truck shot out cold air and blew through my long voluminous hair. I opened the door before backing out of the garage for the first time in two weeks.  I hit every green light and there was no traffic.  Every song on the radio that I wanted to hear played..twice. 

    My gas tank was full and I didn't hit any bumps when putting on my mascara..which was made of crushed diamonds.  I got to work on time. I didn't have to suck in when passing my colleagues because I was skinny...in my skinny jeans.  My classroom door unlocked without any problems.  My room was actually vaccumed and dusted.  It smelt good.  I had an ice cold dr.pepper waiting for me on my desk, thanks to coach mendoza.  My lesson plans were laid out and circle time activites were completed mysteriously.  I checked my mail and had 100 letters from the president in my inbox stating he was doing away with TAKS and increasing anyone who educates salary.  I replied with a smiley face.  My facebook status said " free cupcakes in my room". 

     My students come in and sit down without saying a word.  Homework completed and all.  Circle time was done in a flash without any interruptions.  Everyone was in class on time.  Except.. nothing abnormal about this scene. 

     Lunch was chicken fried chicken with mac and cheese.  Homemade ranch dressing on the side.  Served to me. He floods my truck in watermelon bubbalicious and then chews a piece with me.  The bell rings at exactly 3:30.  I don't have any work to do because it's already been done.  Mysteriously.  I drive home.  I hug loela.  Rest.  I don't think about anything.  My mind doesn't know how to go a million miles an hour. I brush my teeth with sugar because it makes my teeth white, and doesn't cause cavities.  Lay in bed which forgets to deflate every hour on the hour.  I close my eyes without thinking about anything.  I can pray without falling asleep on God.  I rest in Him.  I sleep on my side because I won't ever need to roll over to adjust the deflation.  I sleep.  Peace.


I woke up.  Laughed at the dream I just had.  Back to sleep.

I like the orange cupcakes, it's like a dreamsicle :)

I didn't say goodbye

I can't seem to forgive myself for not saying goodbye.  She laid there so peaceful, so content. Sleeping. 

I can't forget the smell of vicks vapor rub when I hugged her.  Her cheeks sunkin in and her eyes displaying tiny blue hazy circles.  A white fleece blanket kept her warm.  I didn't recognize her.  I didn't want to recognize her.  Not like that.  I whispered that I loved her in her ear.  She smiled.  She couldn't tell me she loved me back.. that's not possible.

What's happening?.......

I escape to the bathroom where I fell to my knees, covered my face and flooded my hands with tears.  I'm not supposed to feel this way in her house.  A house that smelt like sweet cinnamon.  A house that wrapped your spirit in ribbons.  A house with brown sugar kisses and chortle.  A house with the sound of sweet tea being stirred and pool balls clinking around.  It was now a house of quiet sobs, tissues being pulled from boxes and worry.  My aunt found me and lifted me up off the floor.  She wrapped me in her arms.  She didn't say anything.  She didn't have to. 

I tried to occupy my time in her house with video games and television.  I didn't spend much time with her.  I thought if I didn't see her, fading from me, then it wasn't real.  I prayed and prayed to my almighty God to restore her health and give her back to me.  Me.  Give her back to me. Tears stained the sheets as I kneeled before the Lord, selfishly begging Him.  I told God everything I loved about her.  Everything I knew about her.  The moon replaced the sun..her sun.   The sun replaced the moon...her moon. 

I sat next to her one evening and watched as she breathed.  Her chest slowly rising and slowing falling.  Her eyes closed and her hands gently resting on her stomach.  Her feet were covered in fleece footies..her favorite.  Her skin burnished with lotion.  I just watched her.  I thought if I sat there long enough, looking at her, that maybe I can heal her.  Maybe all she needed was me.  Silly me for thinking such.  I don't have healing powers but, I thought to myself, how come the One who does have the power, isn't doing anything? Doesn't He see my family was in a season of sadness and mourning? DO SOMETHING. I yelled at God. I was mad at God.  I questioned..my God.

I took a deep breath and buried my face in my hands.  I sat indian style next to her.  I can hear the T.V in the living room and people shuffling around.  I smelt turkey in the oven.  I can hear my mom reading a recipe to my aunt as they took over the kitchen.  Her kitchen.  Where she would cook.  Where she would make beautiful tasty messes.  Where she would look at me from the stove and say "I love you sugar".  Her kitchen was the only place where I made the best rice crispy treats!!  Or maybe it was just her sweetness.  I lifted my head from my hands and rested them on hers.  She lifted on hand and laid it on top on mine.  She was awake all this time?  She saw me crying.  She heard my cries to God.  She felt my hands.  She knew.

That was the last time I went in that room.  Where someone beautiful laid quiet and content. Listening to the ones she loved miss her, cry for her, lingering around in hopes of a miracle.  I would pass by and peek in to get a glimps of her.  I couldn't take it anymore.  I was ready to go home.  The next morning I asked my mother if I could fly back to Texas.  I couln't be in this house anymore.  It wasn't the same without her walking around in her fancy shoes and painted toes.  Her spirit wasn't there anymore.  God was going to take her.... and we knew it.  We felt it.  We hated it. 

I flew home that next morning.  When I woke up I got dressed quickly and packed the last few of my things.  My dad helped my carry my suitcase to the car. I passed her room, dark and quiet.   I shut the door behind me.  I sat in the car looking at her house, her sweet house.  I pressed my hand against the window and swallowed my urge to cry.  Over the hill I went and I no longer could see her. Hear her.  Feel her. 

I.. her first granddaughter didn't say goodbye.

I looked up and saw the moon.  I saw stars still glistening.  I whispered to God " you can take her now". 

 I knew I was never going to see her again this life.  The plane ride back to Texas was long.  I flew high above the clouds.  I wanted to go higher, and higher into the heavens and wait for her.  I got home later that evening and sat on my couch.  A stillness came over me. I didn't know what to do from here.  I just left her.  In that dark room, where she will wake up not ever seeing my face again.  What was I thinking?

It was 3:20am when my phone rang.  I fumbled around for my phone in a daze.  My caller ID said "mom".  I knew.  She was gone.  Gone forever.  "He..he..hello?"...........  "mom?"......

I flew back to Alabama the next day.  Family I hadn't seen since I was 12 greeted me at the baggage claim.  I didn't want to see my mother.  I knew I would lose it.   I turned to hear my dads famous whistle which he would do to get my attention.  I turned to see him and my mother walking together.  My mom was pale.  I embraced her.  She cried on my shoulder.  I felt her body jolt from intense mourning. 

The funeral was the next day.  I had a lot of mental preparing to do.  The family gathered for dinner and we all hugged and talked about the good time we had with her.  We laughed and told stories of her.  We reminisced on the family vacations with her and how she taught me how to do a somersault in her pantyhose and long skirt. lol.  Goodness... she always made me smile.  She always brought laughter and love.  Her soul was on fire and she loved God. With all her heart.  Her heart.  Her... beautiful heart, which, no longer beat to the patterns of life.

We had a private funeral.  Just the family.  It rained a little.  The tears strolled down our sunglassed covered faces.  Our tissues were used and worn.  Our cheeks red from crying.  Our hair blown from the breeze that blew during her eulogy.  It was finished.  Her life was lived to the fullest.  Her love continues to spread like wildfire through memories.  Her heartbeat still plays over and over in my head.  I smell her sometimes.  In the winds that blow.  Except......... I never said goodbye.

Her name was Sandra Ann and she always had a drawer full of candy.  Whatever drawer she is reaching in now, must have something pretty sweet in it.

Grandma, send me a cupcake... from heaven :)

Yellow With Fear. 7 Steps to a Fearless Heart.

                                                          "I'm totally freaking out"

      What is fear? Fear dreads. Fear rests. Fear produces chaos and anxiety.  Fear anticipates trouble, dreading that something bad is going to happen.  Fear corrodes our confidence in God's goodness.  The Bible says "Do Not Fear" but, is it that easy? No.  We are human.  We fear.

     What should we do when we are faced with fear- when we're afraid and worried? 

1. Keep things in perspective. "Isn't life more than food?" Isaiah -6:25. Remember, if God gave you life, He will give you food.

2. Remember how incredibly valuable you are to God. " Look at the birds" Isaiah 6:25.

3. Realize it's counter productive. "Can all your worries add a single moment to your life?" Isaiah 6:27. Can fear solve all your problems? NO!!

4. Trust God to take care of you. "He will CERTAINLY take care of you" Isaiah 6:30.

5. Remember that God already knows what you need. "Your heavenly Father knows". Isaiah 6:32.

6. See God more than anything else. "Seek first His kingdom". Isaiah 6:33.

7. Take one day at a time. " Don't worry about tomorrow". Isaiah 6:34.

Today God said: " Do not fear, for I am with you; do no anxiously look about you, for I am your God.  I will strengthen you, surely I will uphold you with My righteous hand...Do not fear, I will help you...Do not fear, for you are mine!" (Isaiah 41:10, 13,43:1).

Do not fear sweet cupcake.  I will eat you with kindness :)

Repair me

" It will deminish all aging"
    
     With today's media and it's unforgiving truths of aging leaves me with one question.. who the heck put a time limit on beauty?  Is it me, or is the media stripping us of our natural beauties?  Wrinkle creams, cover ups, anti-aging seriums take us far beyond reality that give us a more youthful, fresh look. However, 12 to 18 hours isn't enough time for me to look like I'm 20 again. 
     
     I could be a "anti-aging" hater but, we were all created to age.  Aging shows wisdom and power, strength and compassion. Just a thought.

They say that behind
every line and wrinkle
there lays a story to be had there.
With all the wrinkles and crinkles
that line her face,
there should be
a couple of novels worth there.

Cupcakes bring out youth :)

twist my tongue :)

 The arduous tounge twister haunts every child who is faced with this question.  My answer is short and sweet:

              If a woodchuck could chuck wood, then he would chuck all the wood.  He would chuck and chuck and chuck and chuck, if a woodchuck could chuck wood. He would then then sell it so he can take Suzie, who sells seashells on the seashore on a date.  He might even double date with Peter Piper who picked a pepper purposely for Penny who ran around the mulberry bush bying boxes before bedtime. :)


Can cupcakes count carousle cakes covered in caramel ??

how do I say this......

Megan, write something about the way we tell people we love them, miss them.  What do words mean anyway?

    Words demand explanation. They require analysis. They are the construction and expression of my thoughts. Of my heart. But they can't describe it. They can't describe any of it. They can't tell you how deep the memories are, or how often we think of them.

    They can't scream what we really want to say. They are the mask of how we really feel and they try to disguise the pain, but someone will strip it away. And someone will make those words worthless.

      So what is a word worth? Nothing... and everything.  What are three words worth? A penny for your thoughts? Sometimes we want our money back.  Love is unrefundable.  But we say them anyway, because you know. You know, more than anyone what they mean. You know when people say I love you, they really mean that those three words can't describe what it is they have.

    I know this boy.  I loved.  I expressed words at the speed of light.  Are you listening? When we say things like "you're amazing", we know or think the word is just a cover; a quick way for me to remember all the things that amaze me about you, a mask for the memories we shared, a disguised version of our adventures together. And I really believe that we know, when we say "I miss you" it's not just that. It's missing every moment.  Ir's missing what your name means to me. It means an alphabet of sounds and letters and words. But none of them really mean anything, because words are based on trust, they rely on how truly and deeply we feel. Remember, always, that they don't mean anything, they are letters and they are constructions, but we deconstruct them every day and we twist them; we manipulate them so that they say what we want them to.

   But no word, no shape, no photograph could ever twist so far that it could begin to explain even a little bit of how I feel.

 

 

 

Words can't explain how bad I want a cupcake right now :)

 

mirror mirror your so pretty.

"The Lord does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart." - I Samuel 16:7

He told me I was pretty... he was just being nice- Right?

People say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder but, who is the beholder these days? Could it be men? women?  Perhaps the man behind the newspaper in the coffee shop?  I'd like to believe it's God but, why are people judged everyday? How did we become judgers? 

Beauty that is only skin deep will one day disappear. Ugliness is a personal perception, just as beauty lies in the "eyes of the beholder". Real beauty is something that has to be natured and comes from within, for beauty that has endured hardships shines with a distinctive splendor. Someone's perception of morals and values, character and personality are what determines real beauty inner beauty.  It is what is on the inside of you that projects outwardly of self. Accepting yourself and letting your inner beauty come out is part of being beautiful. The recipe for beauty is to have less illusion and more soul, to retreat from the belief of pain or pleasure in the body into the unchanging calm and glorious freedom of spiritual harmony...right?

Okay so that sounds so much easier said then done.  Why is it hard to come to terms with truth? Can we all come together as beautiful people and be content with "skinny", "tall", "short", overweight" or covered in freckles?  Sure.  But I believe we need to see the beauty in us before discovering the beauty in others.  We are our own worst judgers.  We pick and scrape at our vanity scars not realizing that we are were made by an Almighty God.  A God that makes no mistakes.  Do I joke about my weight because I want to beat people to the punch? YES!! Some of my friends can't stand when I do that to myself but, in a wierd way, I become content with letting people know that I know about my weight problem.  All I have to do is change my eating habits.  I don't eat a lot but it's what I eat that hurts me.  Food doesn't judge me. I don't suffer from image because I have other attributes that make me beautiful.  However, I try to be hard on myself before others can judge me.  Make sense?

Okay, enough about me.  Lets talk about you.  What are your insecurities? Are these reasonable? Are you trying to beat others to the punch so they don't have time to judge you, because after all, you are your ultimate judger.  What hurts more, you judging yourself? Or others judging you? For me its myself, because I do it everyday.  I know the people who love me, who I see everyday are not judging me.  They see my sense of humor and my dangerously blue eyes as beautiful (hehe).  A good friend told me today that she thinks of me as a role model because of the way I teach.  Wow.  So, the only beholder I need to concentrate on is my God.  My... beautiful God who, made me beautiful- who made YOU beautiful.

Our world is filled with people who focus more on what people look like on the outside than who they are inside. I'm guilty of that myself.  Sometimes its consiously and sometimes it's not.  We shouldn't be too hard on ourselves for judging.  We are human you know.  We do want to think that we look better sometimes.  We do stare what is not the norm. We need to begin judging people more for who they are.  We must get out there and let that inner beauty shine as bright as what's on the outside. Every man and woman created by our Beholder can be beautiful and it all begins by believing in your own beauty. Think of your body as the vehicle to your dreams.

Love it. Honor it. Respect it. Fuel it.
Take the time to give thanks for all your blessings. Remember that your mind, body and soul is the instrument of your life, not just an ornament.

hmm.. I would like a beautiful pink cupcake, frosted with confidence and filled with love. :)