I hate to hear of people complaining of growing older. I feel annoyed when people “dread” their birthdays, but I have to be honest, and admit that I’ve been one of those people for the past couple of weeks. My birthday is less than a week away and it makes me sad to think about,… Continue reading His “My Last Birthday”…
It’s been awhile since my last official blog entry. I’ve been spending more and more time working on my poetry, which I love, but I’m horrible to share on all platforms. I’ve been sharing more via my socials which I’m sure is a blogger “no no” so I wanted to share a few of my… Continue reading Missing In Action
I love to write. Writing centers me, it calms me and it helps me process my own feelings when everything feels like a jumbled mess inside my head and heart. I started this blog not having a plan. I felt I had a story to tell and I wanted to share it but I didn’t… Continue reading Right There in Black & White
I used to rest my head on a chest, next to heart that no longer beats.
If it makes you cry when you write it, it’s good. This one made me bleed. Xo – Steph
My “real life” has been so busy I haven’t had as much time as I’ve wanted to write, but manage to sneak in a poem here or there. Xo – Steph ‘Don’t Break Them’ ‘Enough’ ‘Just Me’
His sign, while still special, but it’s really just letters on a board. His name is now just a name, not a person, with a beating heart, he is a memory. In memory of…
For the first time, ever, I think I caught the smallest glimpse of what it must be like to lose someone so special, to miss someone and to miss them forever. I wondered how many times my Mom has had that thought over the years.
Managing being Momma, even on the “dad days” meant that yesterday he probably ate too much junk food, I suggested a movie because it was dark and maybe he wouldn’t notice if I wasn’t as present as I wanted to be. We were doing something, without me having to do anything. I’m a Mom, I’m not an expert at being a Mom…I don’t think anyone is. I’m just doing the best I can.
It’s hard for me to admit that maybe I haven’t always been the kind of mom I’ve wanted to be. So, here is what I know, with every fiber of my being, I know my son knows how much I love him. I know I’ve done my best and I know he knows that, too.