Tag: Mother-Son Relationships

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DECEMBER 14, 2022: “There’s No Present Like The Time” …

The Diary Of My Perfection

Well, good morning, my handsome prince! Here’s hoping this is the best day EVER! Please do me a favor and listen to this new song I found, and listen to it REAL good. It’s special. Yes, it “might” make you cry … BUT … it might also help remind you why we are BOTH doing everything in our power to CHANGE the broken cycle in this family.

I believe with every shred of my being that you do now have ALL the pieces of the puzzle in your hand, not the LEAST of which is “the girl.” Christian, I just know that she is the one God made for YOU. Neither one of you is “perfect”, son. NONE OF US ARE! But trust me when I say that I know your heart better than anyone else in this world. I mean, DUH, I’m the QUEEN who made it. I also know how that vast wonderland of a mind of yours works, too. IT’S JUST LIKE MINE! That’s how I KNOW that you two were made “perfect for EACH OTHER”.

This next season of your life is probably when all the good stuff is REALLY gonna start happening, not the LEAST of which is raising a little family, which is why you NEED to absorb EVERY word in this powerful song. Let it be a song you listen to every day to remind you that there really IS no “present” like “the time”. Just think about the “season” we all had Zack in our lives, and how he changed EVERYTHING for ALL of us. It may have only been “a little more than a decade”, but the truest gift he left behind for all of us was THE TIME.

{Text on December 2, 2022}

Son,

Thirty years ago this minute, at 4:50 p.m., you made your appearance and changed the trajectory of my life forever. Know that as I’m writing this I’m literally crying my eyes out, because I can’t believe how fast the time has flown by. With that, and as you prepare for the first trip of what will hopefully be a lifetime together with our girl, aside from the trip itself, my gift to you is just these “words.” Only, this time, they’re the borrowed words to that Jay Allen song I sent last week.

This morning, I said an extra prayer in addition to my usual ones. I asked God that if any of the words I’ve ever said to you in our last three decades together land and stick to the innermost places of your broken but healing heart and soul, it’s these most powerful ones of all:

Take a picture. Take a chance. Chase a dream. Chase a girl. Say a prayer. Take a trip. Don’t hold your breath. Hold your kids before they’re too big. Help a stranger. Help yourself. Pull that Bible off that shelf. Open it up with your mind. See the world through His eyes. Make the most of what matters the most in this life. ‘Cause it can fade in a minute, no matter how you spin it. That clock keeps ticking. It can stop on a dime. Be careful how you spend it. In a blink, it’s gone, goodbye. ‘Cause there’s no time like the present. Oh, there’s no time like the present. And there’s no present like the time. It’s a gift. It’s all you get. Make a friend. Make amends. Make a call. Tell the truth. Say I love you.

I love you, Christian Peter, “to The Moon and back”, then back again to eternity. Enjoy your trip to Aspen and allow yourself the much-needed time to just relax, have fun, cut loose, cut up, and gear up for what I believe is this next most important decade of your life. It’s time for you to start rising above all the ashes we all left you in throughout these bittersweet years and planting the roots of a much healthier family tree of your own. Please let our many mistakes and failures be the springboard from which you really start “stealing the Sun” and flying from the inside.

Most importantly, though, please take good care of that girl, and remember: “That angel hangs on every word you say.” Always be mindful of how to talk to her. She’s someone’s daughter, someone’s sister, will hopefully be someone’s momma and entire world one day, and she’s the daughter of God who I believe He made perfect just for YOU! No, son, I don’t think she’s perfect” … none of us are … and also, “perfect” would just be boring. But yes, she’s perfect for you. I know with every single fiber of my being that she’s the one I’ve been praying for incessantly since the day that YOU were born exactly thirty years ago. BE IMPECCABLE WITH YOUR WORDS! They’re not just little toy guns, but they are, in fact, like toothpaste: Once you put them out there, you can’t put them back in the tube.

Well, that’s it, then. Another decade is in the books! Here’s to another STELLAR one filled with love, laughter, and every possible brighter side of all the beautiful GREY that is our lives. Although the world may see you as a man, I will only ever see you as the first boy who stole and captured my heart eternally.

Oh, and one last thing. Never forget that Zack is still watching all of this from his telescope in the sky. Keep on making him prouder than he already was and still is after seeing all the growth in you since he’s been gone. I love you to The Moon and back …

~ “BMITW”

About The Real Cat Williamson — Warrior, Motivator, Survivor.
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MAY 9, 2021: “Mama’s Boys” …

The Diary Of My Perfection

MOTHER’S DAY 2021.

My son started singing “Hold My Hand” at around age three, and it wasn’t uncommon for him to literally take and “hold my hand” as we walked through any public space we traversed together as he belted it out loud for the world to hear. Not long after, another one cued up while I was driving him to school one morning. “A Song For Mama”. Ugh! He reached across the console and “held my hand” yet again and I sobbed like a baby girl. Years later, it was our bittersweet “Mother/Son” dance at The Frog & The Butterfly. That being said, have any of you ever really listened to the words?

You taught me everything and everything you’ve given me – I’ll always keep it inside. You’re the driving force in my life. There isn’t anything or anyone that I could be, and it just wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t have you by my side. You were there for me to love and care for me when skies were gray. Whenever I was down, you were always there to comfort me, and no one else can be what you have been to me. You will always be the girl in my life for all times. Mama you know I love you. Mama you’re the queen of my heart. Your love is like tears from the stars, yes it is. Mama I just want you to know lovin’ you is like food to my soul. You’re always there for me, have always been around for me even when I was bad. You showed me right from my wrong. Yes you did. And you took up for me when everyone was downin’ me. You always did understand. You gave me strength to go on. There were so many times looking back when I was so afraid, and then you’d come to me and say to me I can face anything. And no one else can do what you have done for me. You’ll always be the girl in my life. Mama you know I love you. Mama you’re the queen of my heart. Your love is like tears from the stars. Mama I just want you to know – Lovin’ you is like food to my soul. Never gonna go a day without you. {Boyz II Men}

So, imagine you’re an impressionable young boy—or even a grown man—who’s never had a mama to sing these words to. Worse yet, imagine you’re a boy whose “mama” just got up and bolted because she was a self-consumed, vile excuse of a woman who took the utmost honor of motherhood and spat both it and her children upon the ground? Meanwhile, it seems that lately “all men are the devil” is the flavor of the day, but I gotta tell ya, those words will bring the actual DEVIL out of me! Unless you can prove that you have, indeed, known every man who is now or ever was, then bashing “all men” makes you a moron and a bigot. More so than that, however …

Anything men can do, WE can do better!

Well, then SUCK IT UP Rosie The Riveter, come down from your sanctimony, and shove that fuckin’ hammer that destroyed “the heart of the home” as the world once knew it right up your “I AM WOMAN! HEAR ME HAMMER!” ass, ’cause with that train of thought …

Anything MEN can fuck up, WE can fuck up BETTER!

Hey, ladies? Sometimes, when you’re dealing with a “devil of a man,” the best thing to do is take a good hard look in the mirror. Have any of you ever stopped to consider that maybe you’re the one manifesting the devil out of him? Ya get what ya give. Know what I’m sayin’? And by the way, don’t forget where we came from:

THEIR RIB!

I’m an ecumenical abuser, my friends. What’s good for the gander is good for the goose, so let’s stop pointing fingers at the other gender and do a better job managing our own “roles” and business.

For fuck’s sake, the last time I checked, most people don’t even know what they want or need from the opposite sex, and God forbid a man try to tell a woman what he needs, lest he be dubbed “weak”, shamed for showing his emotions, and emasculated for having (… drum roll, please …) “feelings”! I literally just puked in my own mouth!

We’re ALL human!

We’re ALL a hot mess!

We ALL make mistakes!

We can ALL be the devil from time to time!

The sobering truth is that the woman’s hand was meant to rock the cradle, not destroy it! We’re the Earth, the Sun, the Moon, the stars and the entire COSMOS to the babies we carry. Even wild animals know this to be true and often do much better jobs raising their young than some of those “things” running around this bitch with wombs. I mean, HELLO? Do you KNOW where the black hole my husband finally succumbed to the night he swallowed that hollow point began? His “mother THING” threw him away the day he was born. Yet, even CROCODILE “mamas” instinctually know better than to either CAUSE or BRING harm to their nest.

But I’ve digressed …

Now, does a good, strong, emotionally wealthy and present father bear any value in raising a child? OF COURSE HE DOES! Do ya think I’m effing stupid? But you see, “mother love” is the fuel that supplies this world with the most valuable energy of all, and as that supply is steadily dwindling, huMANity is fucking FLAILING!

“Mama” is the only one who can make a human being, so “mama” is the one who wields the most power to SHATTER a human being irreparably. For every toxic “devil of a man” roaming this planet and giving “some men” a really bad rap, chances are that you can trace his fucked up ways back to the hands of a worthless “mama” who didn’t rock his cradle. Sorry. NOT sorry! It’s the Jean-Claude Van DAMN cold hard truth, and I don’t care what anyone has to say about it.

I thank GOD for the truly good men in this world. I respect them, value them, worry for them, and PRAY FOR THEM! I cherish and HONOR men as the strong towers they were intended to be. You see, I am a woman who’s been lucky enough to have been loved by not one, but TWO of the most beautiful KINGS who ever walked this Earth (make that three if you count my son) and often thank God that I wasn’t actually BORN a man. From the moment they draw their first breath, they’re expected to bear the literal weight of the world on their shoulders, and “stay at home trophy husband” usually ain’t an option for ’em. It’s a brutal reality that so many women take for granted.

If you are a man-hating biotch, you are NOT my people. Actually? You’re gross and the majority of what’s wrong with this world we’re ALL fucking up. So, take your “toxic masculinity” double standards of BULLSHIT back home to your family, cook some fuckin’ chicken for the man in your life if you’re lucky enough to have one, and get the HELL out of my Diary PRONTO!

Oh, and one last thing …

If you’re a man who’s reading this right now and thinking that every woman in this world wants your head on a stake and for you to burn in an actual place called Hell, here’s at least one woman that “sees you”. I’m especially sorry if you’re a motherless son due to the unnatural cause of “her choice”. That sucks, it’s not fair, and there’s a silent tear eternally running through my soul for you every day.

About The Real Cat Williamson — Warrior, Motivator, Survivor.
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JANUARY 28, 2020: “The Most Beautiful Fog In The Cosmos” …

The Diary Of My Perfection
Cat Williamson’s actual photograph of dense morning fog beyond her driveway in Dallas.

One of my greatest treasures in life is the beautifully cryptic way my son communicates with me, and only me, by sending me “music messages”. He’s been doing it since age 16, after I finally left our home in search of a different ending to the story I knew desperately needed to change:

The first song he ever sent me was at age 16, not long after I’d moved out of our family home for the third and final time and just days before I had my nervous breakdown. The song was “Remember Everything” by Five Finger Death Punch, who of course are now my favorite band (and Ivan one of my favorite humans and true friends), but until the moment I got the “text heard ’round the world”, I’d never even heard of them. Lol, and as is par for the course in this Diary, I have once again digressed …
“Mom, I love you, but I need you to know – I REMEMBER EVERYTHING!“
He remembers? Remembers EVERYTHING? What the FUCK have I done to my only son?
(“That Music Thing“)

His messages come at the most random times, and often in the wee hours of the morning, which is always bittersweet, because as every parent knows, those 3 a.m. texts from your kid can evoke momentary nightmares that only a parent can understand. Thanks be to GOD that regardless of the alarm that stops my heart every time I hear his text tone, so far they’ve only ever been his “communication”.

  • iMessage screenshot of Cat’s son sharing “Nettie” by Type O Negative through Apple Music.
  • Cat’s reply describing her mixed feelings about the morning fog, with the photograph she sent her son.
  • Her son’s reassuring messages about the fog, her peaceful home, and his promise to protect her.
  • Cat and her son discussing watching The Shack together with Gia and supporting her.

His latest message arrived this morning at the absolute craziest moment, and the instant I got it, every ounce of adrenaline in my body dumped right back into my soul in all the most beautiful ways. I was standing at the end of my driveway in an abyss of fog like no other I’d ever seen and had no idea why I’d been so compelled to walk right into and stare at it. As you read in my response to him above:

I wasn’t sure how it was making me feel. Maybe a little lost, but maybe a little not.

Yet something made me want to take the picture, and as seen in the text, as soon as I held the camera up to take the shot, his text arrived. What in the actual HE JUST DID THAT, didn’t He? And no, I don’t mean Christian. It was Him! I just know it! It was God … or maybe Zack … or maybe all of “my people” phoning it in from their perfectly mistaken quarters in the sky. It was “Someone” or “Something” infinitely beyond this place that set that ethereal moment up JUST for me! The Cosmos was beckoning me with its “message in the fog” music alchemy at that one perfect moment in time because it NEEDED me to plant my feet back on solid ground.

After I took the picture, I stood frozen in that moment and just listened to the words. Yes, it’s dark, and, indeed, somewhat tragic, but oh my GOD is it ever beautiful, and such is the story of my life. Its haunting chords called me right back to the shore like an actual foghorn in the dead of night, and what are the chances something like this would happen for me “out of the grey” just like that?

It’s half past one here in Dallas, and the fog is starting to lift. As forlorn as its greeting was this morning, I’m almost sad to see it go, because as soon as I received this cryptic message from deep within my son’s heart, it wrapped me in the most comforting blanket that could possibly ever have adorned me.

My kids truly are my most beautiful work and legacy and every diamond in my gleaming tiara, and despite the many circumstances that have darkened some of our days, I believe with every shred of my being that they are going to be okay. I’m his “Nettie” … I am loved … and I am the luckiest woman on this planet. Welcome to my “Nothing. Everything. ALL OF IT!” divinely punctuated existence.

NETTIE

Nettie, no need to cry. Let me wipe those tear drops from your eyes. In the dark bathed in Cathode ray blue, Miss Red Hook of 1922, weeping silently for the pain of others. Every night a tearful rosary, a victim of the curse of empathy. Her reward of compassion is to suffer. Nettie, no need to cry. Let me wipe those tear drops from your eyes. My short coming, I know I caused her grief. Still, she loves me. This I can’t believe! Responding not with anger but a prayer, Heaven’s just Southwest of Cobbil Hill. True. I am the son of an angel. Maternally, not one woman compares. Nettie, no need to cry. Let me wipe those tear drops from your eyes. If you fall, I will catch you. When you’re lost, I’ll be there soon. Far away, but of course near. When you’re sad I am always here. Thank you from saving me from myself. Your compassion became its own hell. Unequivocally Beautiful inside and out. Without a doubt. Nettie, no need to cry. Let me wipe those tear drops from your eyes.

{Type O Negative}
About The Real Cat Williamson — Warrior, Motivator, Survivor.