I’m OFFICIALLY a mother-in-law! So much love to my son, Christian, and his WIFE, my beautiful daughter-in-law, Alexandra! Cheers to the beginning of an extraordinary new bloom on both our family trees!
Meanwhile, a friend asked if I was even a little bit sad that they “ran away” to get married. My answer was an emphatic NO! They didn’t “run away” from anything … they ran with and to each other … as it should be and should have been all the while. Besides, every shred of my being knows that the entire collective of both our families’ “people” have been surrounding, protecting, and supporting them throughout the bittersweet journey that led them to finally saying “yes” to themselves and “NO” to everyone who tried to stand in their way.
When I close my eyes and imagine the shadows, spirits, and ancestral love pushing them forward, it reduces me to peace and bliss for them and their future. I couldn’t be any prouder of these two warriors standing together victoriously on a battlefield neither one of them ever signed up for. They will be blessed. So am I.
Just a handful of wisdom nuggets from me to you on this day of celebrating all things LOVE! Some of these lessons I had to learn the very hard way, while others I unfortunately learned a little too late. In the meantime, as you continue growing into your futures together, remember …
If you don’t speak, resentment will. Silence and avoidance are rarely “peace” … THEY’RE POISON! Always at least try to talk things through before you close your eyes at night, because communication is the key to every relationship in this life, and without it, even the strongest of relationships can just die.
It doesn’t take rocket science for me to know that eventually you’ll all be married. Well, at least if this mother’s prayers come true. Marriage is never just “50/50,” by the way … it’s “100/100” depending on the circumstance. There’ll be days “you carry her” and days “she carries you.” That balancing act of generosity and patience is important. Don’t forget this!
Forgiveness doesn’t always erase the pain. It can, however, build trust. Sometimes you’ll forgive but never forget. Guess what? THAT’S OKAY! You’re only human, after all. Moving forward in moments like that is a choice you’ll have to make. Lower your armor and don’t become enemies.
Never stop doing all the little things for each other, because THOSE are the glue that will keep you bonded through thick and thin. And, believe it or not, it’s the little things you’ll remember the most when all is said and done.
Last but not least, yeah, love really does hurt you sometimes, and no, it really isn’t so easy to find. So, this is me hoping that all your collective searching really is over and that, win, lose, or draw, through hell or the highest of waters, you’ll always be standin’ there when the other turns around. In the meantime, I love you all to The Moon and back … and back … and back!
He got here red and wrinkled … scared and cryin’ … then she took him up and held him to her breast … and he sure was glad to get what mama offered. Then he went to sleep and put his fears to rest. It didn’t seem to matter what he needed, he could always count on mama to supply, and regardless of the sleep she might be losin’, he always found a twinkle in her eye. There ought to be a hall of fame for mamas … Creation’s most unique and precious pearls … and Heaven help us always to remember that the hand that rocks the cradle rules the world.
What if on the day he got here, “red and wrinkled … scared and cryin'”, she took one look at him and said, “No thanks. I’ll pass.” Then, instead of holding him to her breast and putting his fears to rest, she either literally or metaphorically threw him away?
Lol! “There ought to be a hall of fame for mamas?” Yup. There sure as HEAVEN should be. Likewise, should there be a picture of every one of those “mother THINGS and MONSTERS” in the Hall Of SHAME as placeholders until they get to ACTUAL hell.
This one, however, is now—and has always been—so moving and powerful to me that I’ve yet to find the proper words to honor it. And I know I’m not alone in that. It’s one of the most difficult songs for me to hear because it buries me in feelings so deep beneath my skin that I can’t make it through the first three seconds without literally “landsliding.” Now that I think of it, it’s one of my “go-tos” for those days when I just need to check my own pulse or make myself shedtears that need to be shed.
But guess who else was born twenty years ago today at the exact moment this entry is being published—4:29 p.m.? My firestorm of a muse daughter, who has long reminded me of Stevie with her wildflower gypsy heart and wise-beyond-her-years soul. So, what better way to honor them both? Still, how exactly do I bring together this song and the triumph that is my masterpiece on this day that ends both our journeys through “the teenage years”?
As far as I’m concerned, the true purpose of art in every form—and of the artists who create it—is to embody the fact that God is always here with us in all things, big and small. Whether we or even the artists themselves are aware of it, art can pull us through our faith journey by all but begging us to seek and find Him hidden in this masterful, complex, collaborative Creation He paints across the canvas of our souls.
Case in point: Michelangelo’s “The Creation of Adam,” part of the Sistine Chapel ceiling. God reaches toward Adam, while Adam’s hand is more relaxed, his finger slightly bent. Their fingers almost touch. To me, that small space holds something enormous: an invitation to reach back.
While studying this painting in college, I recall reading that the tiny gap between their fingers might have been intended to embody our “free will.” We can’t know with certainty that this was Michelangelo’s intention, but that interpretation has stayed with me. I see God reaching toward humanity with His love and divine energy, while we must actively choose to reach back.
In short? God’s love and presence are always patiently waiting nearby, but the connection requires that we choose it. And such is the story of the human parent-child journey as well, my friends. There comes a time for us to really cut the cords, hold on loosely, and just let them go on and fly. If we’ve done our job well, they’ll always come back to us. If not, pray God we find the error in any of our ways that caused them to run away and never look back—and, even more so, that we’re offered the grace of an opportunity to make things right.
Now then, back to “Landslide” …
Stevie has described writing it at a vulnerable crossroads, unsure whether to keep pursuing music with Lindsey Buckingham. I hear it as a conversation she had with herself while looking out at the mountains in Aspen, which I, of all people, can appreciate as an avid “talk and sing love songs to yourself” kinda girl.
Her bittersweet take on navigating uncertainty through ever-changing and fleeting times—and her fear of how quickly things can come crashing down around us—is a gentle yet haunting reminder that the best any of us can do is savor every last drop of love like it’s the last we’ll ever taste, remain prepared for change when it’s time to let some seasons go, and continually search for ways to fortify ourselves with the resilience it takes to survive here.
And so, with that, I say THIS to not just my baby girl on her 20th birthday, but my son, their future spouses, AND my future grands:
No, I’m NOT afraid of changin’, though I’ve built my life around YOU. Time really has made me bolder as I’ve gotten older, and you’re getting older, too.
So, when you see my reflection in the mirror of your skies, don’t you DARE worry about all those landslides! You’re MY kids, you see, which means YOU GOT THIS, because just as the child in MY heart learned to rise above the many changing seasons of my life with the “Power + Grace” of a battle-born warrior forged from fire, so too will the children OF my heart! Now, go on and sail through those ocean tides and climb some mountains! But also? Don’t forget to stop back home ANY time you want.
Just because you’re heading off to build kingdoms and castles of your own now, it doesn’t mean you won’t ALWAYS have open doors and rooms here in mine!
I love you to The Moon and back! … Momma
A reflection inspired by Mary Oliver’s “In Blackwater Woods.”
Oh, don’t you worry, though, dear readers! I got this, bitches! I PROMISE! At least I’m brave enough to say it out loud:
I … am NOT … okay!
Well, at least I’m 77% sure I’m not okay … BUT … I will be, ’cause Imma cat and cats ALWAYS land on their feet (even with a “buttered-side-up” piece of bread strapped to their back)!
Meanwhile, in rolling from “squares” to “circles,” I find it no coincidence that, despite the fact that it had been drafted, locked, and loaded well over seven months ago, THIS was my Diary entry this morning:
A year ago today, my son sent me another one of those cryptic “music thing” messages.
Talk about the absolutely beautiful trajectory of this wonky yet ever-so-FULL CIRCLE that both my children’s lives and mine are moving in! He was brave enough to tell me that he was not okay … now I’m brave enough to say that I, too, am not okay … which, believe it or not, is exactly why “imma be alright”! What doesn’t kill me will always make me stronger, ’cause I’m their momma, and my work here won’t be done until I can rest assured knowing they have all the tools and examples they will ever need to BE OKAY! Dear GOD, how I love my fucking life (and also all my birds and squirrels)! Goodnight, everyone! It’s me, CAT!
It’s Mother’s Day, once again, and here’s to all us “She’s”:
She’s the whisper of the leaves when you walk down the street, the smell of certain foods you remember, every flower you pick, and the fragrance of life itself. She’s the hand on your brow when you’re not feeling well and your breath in the air on a winter’s day. She’s the sound of the rain that lulls you to sleep, the colors of a rainbow, and the heartbeat of Christmas morning. She’s the place you came from, your very first home, and the map you follow with every step you take. She’s your first love, your first friend, even your first enemy, but nothing on earth can separate you. Not time, not space… not even death. She is always with you. She’s your Mother. She is Love.
Now, as regards the Jordan B. Peterson “female crucifixion” piece below, by no means am I proclaiming to be a saint or anywhere close to the mother of Jesus, but “crucified” I’ve been just the same with every breath they’ve taken, every move they’ve made since leaving the protection of my womb. Guess what, folks? I wouldn’t have had it any other way! This life that seems to be some type of martyrdom to so many others has been the highest honor, privilege, and calling of my life, and I wouldn’t have had it any other way. Meanwhile …
You wake up one day and you realize the person that you were meant to be is gone … you gave her up for people who don’t even see you … and there’s no time to grieve her because there’s too much damn laundry. You just wake up one day and you realize that half of you … maybe the best part of you … is dead.
NO! Just NO! I have not and will not ever allow myself to believe that a single one of my “sacrifices” has not been “seen, remembered, or appreciated” by the people closest to me, not the least of which are my babies, grown as they may now be. Besides, nothing I’ve ever been, done, or given for them has been a sacrifice. Being their mother is what I was created to be, and I don’t need a Macy’s Day Parade thrown in my honor to feel honored! Guess what, folks? I have, can, and will continue to bestow that seemingly elusive recognition upon myself like only a true queen can by continuing to walk in my “Power + Grace”! It’s who I am and what I was built for! Win, lose, or draw, it’s been a truly WONDERFUL life here for me thus far. Here’s to the next open chapters of GRAND MOTHERHOOD that are fast approaching!
In the beginning, God made the land. Then He made the waters and creatures … then He made man. He was born with a passion … love and hate. A restless spirit with a need for a mate. But there was something missing … something lost. So, He came up with the answer. Here’s what it cost: One part love; one part wild; one part lady; one part child. A whole lot of fire; a little bit of ice; a whole lot of something you can’t sacrifice. I give you …
Did you know that in many parts of the world, today is recognized as “International Women’s Day“? Indeed, it is the global day to celebrate the social, economic, cultural, and political achievements of women. As an American woman and capitalist who is not a fan of socialism, feminism, or Rosie The Riveter, but is a fan of the solidarity and sanctity of “The Hood“, I choose to celebrate “woman” for a much more powerful reason than modern women’s ability to pick up a hammer, try to grow their own dicks and balls and conquer “the patriarchy” and man in general. A social media influencer who I’ve been following for a while recently said:
Listen, there is nothing in my world that I have ever experienced that is more profound than the Power, purpose, and joy of watching my wife carry our children and then give birth. As a man, I have no idea what she is feeling. As a man, I have no idea what she is going through. As a man, I have no idea what pressure, stress, pain, and process she is going through. But I do know this is GOD’s most incredible creation.
Love him or hate him (and many people do, as is the plight of many a truth-teller), the man is a beast of epic proportions and I couldn’t agree with him more. More than that, what a beautiful tribute not just to his own wife, but to the power of “woman”!
Meanwhile, as far as I’m concerned, perhaps the best thing about the sisterhood of REAL women (or rather, should I say “WOMBen”, because without a womb at birth, you ain’t one) is our innate ability to be given anything and multiply it. If you give us your time, we can give you our hearts. If you give us a house, we can give you a home. If you give us the ingredients, we can give you a meal. If you give us your sperm, we can give you a family. If you give us love, honor, loyalty, and respect, we can give you an entire lifetime of unwavering support, partnership, a crown, and a throne from which we can build a kingdom TOGETHER.
We are the most sacred vessels, alchemists, sorcerers, and forces of unrivaled nature that there ever were or ever will be, other than God Himself. That’s why I believe He partnered with and empowered us with not just our wombs, but the ability to endure and then rise above unspeakable amounts of physical and emotional pain and suffering for the sake of those we care for, as the female expression and reflection of His profound and inexplicable creativity and love:
The sobering truth is that it’s the woman’s hand that was meant to rock the cradle, not destroy it! We’re the Earth, the Sun, the Moon, the stars and the entire effing COSMOS to the babies we bear. Even wild animals know this to be true and often do much better jobs of raising their offspring than some of those “things” running around this gig with wombs.Does a good, strong, emotionally wealthy and present father bear any value in raising a child? OF COURSE! 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. As that supply steadily dwindles, humanity is fucking FAILING! “Mama” is the only one who can make a human being, so “mama” is the one who wields the most power to fucking 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 the worthless “mama” who either did or did not 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 guess what I’m REALLY trying to say here, “ladies,” is that perhaps some of you actual ‘lil hookers out there should think about using that “power of your pussies” to do something a little more MAGICAL than just running around fucking literally everything in sight and screwing up huMANity? Spread those legs for the good of all mankind and leave behind a “legacy”, not a “LEGS-in-the-air-DISEASE”! We are epic magic of divine design and the living reflection of HIS femininity, so why would you want to be anything else? Dare I say that any words, deeds, or “things” THAT (not “who”) negate, make a mockery of, or spit upon the utmost and highest calling of “woman” are, perhaps, the greatest of all the Devil’s lies.
I’m so proud of you, Christian! You, too, honey! See that? I told you he was gonna be okay. He just needed you to keep having faith in him “as he was,” just like you always did in me, and he needed the right girl beside him, just like I ever did!
Hey, Papa? Is it my imagination, or is he finally starting to come around? He’s been hell-bent on fighting those demons of his alone and digging his way out of the hole WE all dug for him and had it stuck in his head that, after all the “fuck ups and blunders” he’s been constantly reminded of, he doesn’t deserve a thing from anyone. He’s so determined to do everything on his own now so that no one can throw anything back in his face or hold his successes over his head. All he does is work. He never seems to sleep, and he’s been running his race so damn hard trying to make up for all the time he only thinks he’s lost, and I needed to find a way to help him with all the heavy stuff he’s been carrying. So? THANK YOU! Thank You for helping him let me help him. And also? THANK YOU for letting me be his momma, and especially for letting me be YOUR favorite daughter. I LOVE YOU!
I have an important message for whoever is reading this right now. Whatever you’re doing and however you’re doing it, stop all that Jean-Claude Van DAMN worrying about how many people seem to be outpacing you. Your only competition in this “racetrack of life” gig should be the “you” you were five minutes ago and no one else!
And THIS …
Even when you’re actually on the road and there are a boatload of cars in the lanes ahead of you, aren’t there also always cars behind you? Umm, YAH! There really are. First? Last? Middle?
SCREW THAT!
With that, I would now like to send a very special message to my incredibly talented and handsome son, Christian Peter, who turned 31 today at exactly 4:50 p.m.
Son, please don’t run your engine so hard that you burn out your motor before you hit the finish line. Find time to relax, cool your engine, look for the rest stops, and even revel in all the boring stuff so you can enjoy the views as you’re rolling on down the road. You are where you are … nowhere more and nowhere less … and as long as you’re doing your best, being kind to yourself and others, and going “all in” to the utmost of your ability without sacrificing your precious mental wealth …
YOU — ARE — WINNING!
Slow down, you crazy child, because Vienna really does wait for both you and that savage QUEEN God created JUST for you. There’s no need to rush to some imaginary finish line that, in fact, doesn’t really exist. Besides, I’m 2,000% certain that on the day you meet The Maker, He’s not gonna be asking to see your racing stats. He, like me, is just going to be glad you got Home safely. Happy birthday, son. I LOVE YOU!
~ “BMITW”
VIENNA
Slow down you crazy child. You’re so ambitious for a juvenile, but then if you’re so smart tell me, why are you still so afraid? Where’s the fire, what’s the hurry about? You better cool it off before you burn it out. You got so much to do and only so many hours in a day, but you know that when the truth is told that you can get what you want or you can just get old. You’re gonna kick off before you even get halfway through. When will you realize … Vienna waits for you?Slow down you’re doing fine. You can’t be everything you want to be before your time, although it’s so romantic on the borderline tonight. Too bad, but it’s the life you lead. You’re so ahead of yourself that you forgot what you need. Though you can see when you’re wrong, you know you can’t always see when you’re right. You got your passion, you got your pride, but don’t you know that only fools are satisfied? Dream on, but don’t imagine they’ll all come true. When will you realize … Vienna waits for you?Slow down you crazy child. Take the phone off the hook and disappear for a while. It’s alright, you can afford to lose a day or two. When will you realize … Vienna waits for you?And you know that when the truth is told that you can get what you want or you can just get old. You’re gonna kick off before you even get halfway through. Why don’t you realize … Vienna waits for you?When will you realize … Vienna waits for you? {Billy Joel}
People seek retreats for themselves in the country, by the sea, or in the mountains. You are very much in the habit of yearning for those same things. But this is entirely the trait of a base person, when you can, at any moment, find such a retreat in yourself. For nowhere can you find a more peaceful and less busy retreat than in your own soul—especially if on close inspection it is filled with ease, which I say is nothing more than being well-ordered. Treat yourself often to this retreat and be renewed.
I mean, don’t get me wrong. Knowing that “the kids” are home safely, “the significant other” is home safely, and your many other “people” are all hunkered back down safely from wherever in this world their daily travels took them is everything.
Thank you, Jesus. AMEN!
But, you see, this “get home safely” message is for YOU! Someday, you’ll be the literal axis upon which other worlds revolve. Your primary assignment in this lifetime will be domestic goddess, wife, and mom, which, of course, is THE top job of them all. You’ll be the very essence and living heartbeat of any structure wherein you dwell, the love of many other people’s lives, and the one person they’ll run to the fastest and NEED to see standing strong when they walk back through your open door:
I’m coming home. I’m coming home. Tell the world I’m coming home. Let the rain wash away all the pain of yesterday … I know my kingdom awaits and they’ve forgiven my mistakes.
Take care of YOU, because YOU are precious, too, and, yes, it’s okay to value your own life, mental wealth, and physical well-being as much as, if not MORE than, “theirs.” “Their lives” wouldn’t be the same without YOU.
They say that “home is where the heart is,” and nothing could be closer to the truth. So, while you’re out there getting where you’re getting to, be mindful of the many hearts that call your still-beating heart their home. You’re their Sun, their Moon, and their Stars! Give thanks and praise to God when YOU walk back through your own doors, because even He knows that this “living” gig ain’t always easy.
By the way, might I just say how amazing it is that now when you hear this song, you hear it from a much different place? I’m super proud of you for that, by the way, “Younger Me”! And, oh, one last thing … I really, really love you!
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 againto 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 notjust 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 …
While I’m sure there are a fair number of people who feel this way but aren’t as willing to openly admit it, I believe there should be absolutely NO mercy, grace, or forgiveness for the “mother THINGS” that (not “who”) mindfully cause or allow grave harm to a child of their own womb.
Judge not others lest ye be judged!
(Matthew 7:1-3)
Yet are the THINGS capable of inflicting harm upon their children even “human” at all—and therefore subject to God’s disdain for judging them or wishing them actual hell?
I really CAN forgive anyone for just about anything, and as God is my witness, I HAVE! But I’ll just keep taking people on a case-by-case basis. The Devil’s Own really DO walk among us, but I’m not even sure they’re “people”. They’re a different kind of breed “thing” altogether. I’m not quite sure I’ll ever get to the point that I stop avidly praying that God really DOES sort us all out in the end. I’m just a mortal human, not a god or Jesus Christ, so I’ll just keep asking for “forgiveness” for not being too excited about the idea of “mercy for the merciless”.
Just to be clear, I’m not talking about selfish, inattentive, unprepared, immature mothers who are truly oblivious to the damage they cause their children. Been there, done that, and trust me when I say that we are a collective wrecking ball crew to our own. I may be sanctimonious at times, but I’m not even gonna try and deny my own regrettable crimes against my children. I wear the hearts of two children on my sleeve who are still navigating the wreckage my former tragic mothering and weak mental health caused them, such that any shame or guilt I’ve suffered for not having done better sooner is well-deserved. Have they forgiven me? Yes. Have I forgiven myself? Yes. Have they forgotten? Absolutely NOPE, nor shall they ever, and nor shall I. If they have to remember everything, then why should I be afforded the luxury of “I FUCKED UP MY KIDS AMNESIA”?
That being said, if, like me, you have fucked up your kids but are able to acknowledge, account, and atone for it, indeed I believe there is mercy and grace to be found. Owning up to my parenting flubs and “remembering everything” with them is what keeps me growing forward as a stronger, wiser, and healthier mom who is determined to break the generations of cyclically egregious parenting on my tree. Let’s face it, people, you can’t fix something you don’t think is broken, and that includes ourselves. De-NILE was for little baby Moses, my friends, and in a basket I am not.
Meanwhile, I am talking about the seriously life-altering and mind-bending crimes committed against children at the hands of “mothers” that NO CHILD deserves to suffer through. Here are just a few that come to mind:
🤮 Throwing them in the trash or just leaving them out in the freezing fucking cold on a curb or a doorstep!
🤮 Murdering them, drowning them, choking them, burning them, burying them alive, locking them in closets, caging or chaining them up like animals, starving them, or “sticking stuff” in places stuff isn’t supposed to be stuck in them!
🤮 Coat-hanger SLAUGHTERING them or letting a medically sanctioned hitman SHANK them late-term in utero through their already formed tiny skulls, beating hearts, seeing eyes, hearing ears, and feeling spinal cords!
None of these horrors are forgivable to me, and even a crocodile mommy instinctively knows better than to intentionally torment a life she bears in such detestable ways. Look, there’s NO such thing as a perfect mom, because after all, most of us are only human. But sooner or later, even the worst of us wrecking ball mommies can grow up, take a sobering look at the body count on the battlefield of our children’s lives and the failed flights we caused, APOLOGIZE, move on, then just do fucking BETTER!
It is my avid prayer that these THINGS will eventually be dealt with accordingly and made to pay for their crimes against the humanity they made and BROKE! I can’t imagine that God will take such travesties lightly, as when He blessed women with a womb, it would seem that He did so with the intention of populating the world, NOT destroying it. I literally have no sympathy whatsoever for “things” posing as “people” that deliberately and intentionally violate, traumatize, or cause harm to actual human beings without remorse.
I’ll never forget the day in 2016 when my secretly crumbling husband, whose own mother THING discarded him, heard it for the first time while we were driving. The stoic tears that fell from his eyes in that moment still haunt me. After that, he would play it often and always said it made him think about the “IT” that birthed him. Now, I’m not saying that every child of a mother THING grows up to be a monster, but the truth is many do. I’m also not saying that my husband was a monster, but in the end there was a monster living inside his head that he felt he had to stop from hurting us any further, and thus the bullet to his head.
Dear Mothers:
Remember … WE CREATED THEM! They are pieces of what we are. We’re their Sun, their Moon, their Earth, their stars, and the actual air they breathe. We make them. We can break them. Be mindful of the power that you wield!
Are YOU a mother THING? If so, here’s hoping that the fate you meet is far greater than anything you ever did to one of your own. Also? YOU’RE FUCKING GROSS! Are you the child of a mother THING? YOU DIDN’T DESERVE THAT! Just because everyone isn’t as openly angry at the THING that was supposed to love you more than her own life itself, it doesn’t mean that you aren’t thought of, cared for, prayed over, and deeply loved by more mothers than you will ever know. Don’t you DARE let yourself be defined by the monster that brought you into this world or think for one minute that God didn’t see that.
MONSTER
Under the knife I surrendered. The innocence yours to consume. You cut it away and you filled me up with hate. Into the silence you sent me. Into the fire consumed. You thought I’d forget, but it’s always in my head. You’re the pulse in my veins. You’re the war that I wage. Can you change me? Can you change me? You’re the love that I hate. You’re the drug that I take. Will you cage me? Will you cage me? You’re the pulse in my veins. You’re the war that I wage. Can you change me? Can you change me from the monster you made me? The monster you made me? This is the world you’ve created. The product of what I’ve become. My soul and my youth? Seems it’s all for you to use. If I could take back the moment I’d let you get under my skin. Relent or resist? Seems the monster always wins. You’re the pulse in my veins. You’re the war that I wage. Can you change me? Can you change me? You’re the love that I hate. You’re the drug that I take. Will you cage me? Will you cage me? You’re the pulse in my veins. You’re the war that I wage. Can you change me? Can you change me from the monster you made me? From the monster you made me? My heart’s an artifice, a decoy soul. I lift you up and then I let you go. I’ve made an art of digging shallow holes. I’ll drop the darkness in and watch it grow. Who knew the emptiness could be so cold? I’ve lost the parts of me that make me whole. I am the darkness. I’m a monster. {Starset}
… that moment she sends you the screenshots of a conversation she had with a friend who’s in the midst of a struggle with her truly and insidiouslytoxic mother, only to read it and discover once again that yes, she really is listening to you, and yes, your dream for her really is coming true.
If you’ve been around this Diary long enough, by now you know I have a song for every moment, and in every one of my moments there’s a song. If I had a dollar for the countless number of times I’ve listened to and belted this one out loud to myself as a battle cry to remind me of exactly what I’m fighting for, then I could feed the world.
Do you want me to just listen, give you my thoughts, or offer advice? What would help you the most right now?
Pray GOD, how many times have I said those very words to her?
Everyone’s love is like water in a cup. The water in their cup is what they have to give …
And how many times have I said those exact words to her, too? I’m not gonna lie, folks, not 2.5 milliseconds after reading those words, “like water in a cup”, the waterworks began and I swear to HEAVEN that the first thought that came to my mind was “the dream” in the words of this song.
My Mona Lisa very much made me smile today, because after all that has been said and done, it’s becoming clearer to me each day that everything I’ve been praying for, fighting for, and dreaming about for her is coming to fruition.
As an aside, my daughter is far from perfect, just like her perfectly imperfect mom, and by no means am I attempting to canonize her into sainthood. She’s a normal and hormonal teenage girl, my friends, and truth be told, there are days when that little brat takes me toe-to-toe and drives me up literal walls. But if only you knew just exactly what she has been through in this lifetime thus far, and the actual demons she’s had to slay, you, like me, would be more inclined to expect that she’d have not only become a demon herself by now, but an extra cold and black one at that. She’s been broken in ways that no woman should ever be broken, yet here she is spewing love, light, empathy, patience, understanding, and validation for another human being’s condition instead of the jaded toxicity that often accompanies the victims of the unfathomable crimes against her.
Likewise, by no means am I a perfect parent. I have admittedly made way more than my fair share of mistakes, fails, and blunders. But this girl? My masterpiece? Although I have often felt that I don’t deserve her, evidently God believed I did, so, he charged me with her care even despite myself. She is every diamond in my jewel-encrusted crown and exactly who I hope to be if and when I grow up. The more time passes, the more I can’t help but wonder whether my single greatest purpose and contribution to this world isn’t something I’m gonna do, but the children that I am raising.
SHE is my utmost achievement. SHE is the voice that will surely linger on as she continues lighting fires of her own with not just my words, but the brave and wise words of her own. SHE is the living expression of my life’s every song, and I am so blessed to call her my daughter. Today, as always, my “cup” truly runneth over.
TO MY DAUGHTER,
If you wanna lead, be a leader. If you wanna dream, be a dreamer. Climb to the top of that mountain and SCREAM IT, but, remember when you get to the top … everything you say is gonna matter … everything you do is gonna add up. It’s what I’ve asked for. So, don’t lose heart when it’s not what you thought. Careful now, girl – avoid those Jezebel ways. Don’t wear a crown on your head, but be a queen of clichés. Soon you’ll be playing with the big girls, so make sure that you’re ready when it comes around!
If you wanna preach, be a preacher. If you wanna teach, be a teacher. Remember that the footprints you’re leaving will tell us all who you really are. Never forget to remember your worth … instead of spreading your legs, please just use your words. Character is shown by the things that we do. The one thing you’re never gonna hide is the truth. ‘Cause anyone can sell when they’re selling out, and anyone can fly when they’re falling down.
I had a dream that YOU were born a generation to behold! Lighting fires with your words instead of useless smoke that blurs the lines of right and wrong; expression that lives on; my army with a song that will linger when I’m gone. I had a dream!
Although I’ve had the awful displeasure of watching a handful of the human souls I’ve been the most connected to dying right before my eyes, not the least of which was my daughter, perhaps the saddest and most painful moment of my life was the day my two surviving children had to watch their own mother having an actual nervous breakdown and being hauled off to a psych ward over a thousand miles from home:
They literally had to peel my son from my body so that I could get into the car. He, too, was sobbing, and I’d never seen him cry so much or so hard. And Gia? She looked so lost, like a little puppy that just wanted someone to pick her up and hold her.
Even now, as resilient as I’ve truly become, when I flash back to “the day on the driveway” and remember everything they had to see, it breaks my heart all over again knowing how their hearts got broken going through that kind of trauma. No child should ever have to witness such a thing!
Regardless of how dismal so many moments in our lives have been, I wouldn’t change a single step of this dance we’ve been sashaying through. Through it all, I can only hope that they’ll have learned that the pain has been a gift, death is nothing at all, and that win, lose, or draw, they’re gonna be okay because they had ME for a mother! I’m an epic masterpiece of magnanimous proportion, and after I’ve made it to The Brighter Side Of Grey, both they and their kids are gonna look back at this painting I’ve been faithfully working on and say:
DAMN! She was OUR mom! She was nothing short of magic, because despite her many circumstances, she rose up like a phoenix to spread her light, love, truths, and the warmth from the fire in her soul.
Then, I’ll be that soft breeze that brushes their cheeks and whispers hope into their ears, and every ray of light that sparkles in their eyes as they bask in the legacy I’m working on. I’ll be their Crazy Grandma Cat whose higher purpose was to change everything for our tree. Oh, don’t you worry, folks. Despite the seemingly macabre tone of this entry, I’m not planning to go anywhere soon. Although it is true that I’m fully prepared for what I know is coming next, I’m in love with my existence in this space and still have much to do. I’m just thinking out loud right now, because this song I’ve loved since I was not quite 30 years old found its way into the queue on my stereo this morning. Back then, it was just a song to me with a vibrant mood, and never in a million years would I have thought that I’d be the ray of light in those words. Well, here I am lighting it all up from my very own little piece of Heaven from here until eternity. I am SUCH a lucky woman, and I cannot say it enough. I am power, grace, and a divinely appointed apostrophe punctuating people’s lives with my glow. I will never be ashamed of all the pain that I have carried — it’s what forged me into the steel fortress that I am.
RAY OF LIGHT
Zephyr in the sky at night – I wonder – do my tears of mourning sink beneath the Sun? She’s got herself a universe gone quickly. For the call of thunder threatens everyone. And I feel like I just got home. And I feel. And I feel like I just got home. And I feel. Faster than the speed of light – she’s flying – trying to remember where it all began. She’s got herself a little piece of Heaven, waiting for the time when Earth shall be as one. And I feel like I just got home. And I feel. And I feel like I just got home. And I feel. Quicker than a ray of light. Quicker than a ray of light. Quicker than a ray of light – then gone – for Someone else will be there. {Madonna}
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’tcare 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.
This morning, I saw this post on Instagram by one of my favorite haunts, “The Daily James,” a wildlife sanctuary based in Los Angeles that is home to one of my absolute favorite families, “King James, Margaret and the kids.” But I’ve digressed. The post was of this picture above along with one very simple question: “Tell us what you see.” To which I replied …
The thing that struck me the most in this post was the first picture of that magnificent tree. It screamed, “Look here upon my branches — Creation’s true majesty. I am a life well lived, no matter the circumstances or elements that have encumbered me — a true force to be reckoned with. I am ONLY as tall as my roots are deep, no matter HOW twisted and chaotic they may seem. I am a strong fortress. I am — everything.”
Twenty-eight years ago today, after 19 hours and 11 minutes of labor, the first true love of my life was born at exactly 4:50 p.m. (but, hey, who’s counting, right?) With that, this picture couldn’t have come at a more fitting time, because after I made my response, I immediately thought of this song I’ve loved since first hearing it in the early ’90s, when I was just beginning to know Jesus. Up until then, I had been wandering lost in the woods all alone. Actually? Correction: I wasn’t really alone — He was ALWAYS with me; I just wasn’t ready to believe it. Truth be told, even after I accepted Christ into my heart, my walk was a bit of a struggle. I’ve been a really stubborn kid — NO JOKE! Christian was so young at the time, and I tried desperately to give him the solid foundation he needed to get through life. But alas, I failed him at so many turns. It’s the absolutetragic truth.
Those days are gone, though, and now I very much know better. I truly have seen the error of my ways, including the not-so-stable ground I set his feet upon and the wings I took part in clipping, making it more difficult for him to fly. Just as sure as God has forgiven me for my many imperfections and failures, I, too, have done the same. All I can do at this point is try to lead him to The Truth by my example and let His Majesty take it from there.
It’s just a matter of time … and only a matter of faith. At the end of the day, no matter how “twisted and chaotic” his roots are below, there is a strong fortress working behind him powering the circumstances and elements. The great “I Am” is everything I need to know.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SON!
I love you to the Moon and back and am SO beyond proud to be your mom. I believe in you, always, unconditionally, with every shred of my being, from here and throughout eternity! My truest prayer to God is now, and always will be, that both you and your little sister grow into the magnificent masterpieces you were meant to be from the seeds sown by not only my past mistakes but the mistakes of every single root-rotted branch of our twisted family tree. Rise above it, son. Rise above, fly away, and never look back with regret!
GIVE HIM ROOTS
So many voices in his ear. Are they playing on his fears? It’s a bad situation all the way around. But with a solid foundation, he’s gonna stand his ground. Take a little time. Plant the seeds. Give him reasons to believe. Give him roots, and give him wings, and he’ll grow up to do great things. Let him know the joy that he brings. Teach him the value of the truth. Oh you gotta give him roots. Give him wings. When he comes to you and he needs your help, and he’s so unsure of himself, give him vision so he can see the Light. Let him know the difference between wrong and right. Share the wisdom of your peers. There’ll be laughter. There’ll be tears. He should aim as high as the sky. There ain’t nothing he can’t do if he’ll only try. {Clay Crosse}
… whereas some moms might see a “tragedy in ink” down the road temporarily penned on their teenage daughters’ hands, I instead see the limitless potential and possibilities for the extremely talented young Phoenix I’m raising who knows exactly who she is, has a pretty good grasp on what she wants and where she wants to go, and isn’t afraid to express herself, be herself, and see things in herself that may look a bit dark on the surface but are, in reality, extraordinarily beautiful! Sometimes I literally pinch myself because I can NOT believe I made her. I’ve made TWO extraordinary human beings!
I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again:
No one will ever truly understand either the depth of each of their hearts’ bounds or the mountains of ashes they’ve both had to ascend from to teach themselves how to fly. I am such a lucky mom, and I just can’t say it enough! But this girl of mine? She’s one you’ll need to watch out for. As in, STAY OUT OF HER FLIGHT PATH unless you are willing to have your actual eyes burned out by her Light!Her Light makes my Lightlook like the 5-watt bulb from a nightlamp, even when it appears that she’s “going dark.” I’d be doing myself a grave disservice if I didn’t say that someday, when I’m grown up, I hope to be just like her! I’m so proud to be their mom! BOTH my kids are my heroes! With all that being said, and so far as the “ink” of it is concerned, all I have left is this:
Got a tattoo that said, “together through life”. Carved in your name with my pocketknife. And you wonder when you wake up, will it be alright? Oh oh. Oh oh. Feels like there’s something broken inside. All I know, all I know – is that I’m lost whenever you go. All I know is that I love you so. So much that it hurts. Got a tattoo and the pain’s alright. Just want a way of keeping you inside. Oh oh. Oh oh. All I know, all I know … is that I’m lost in your fire below. All I know is that I love you so. So much that it hurts. I see the road begin to climb. I see your stars begin to shine. I see your colors and I’m dying of thirst. All I know is that I love you so, so much that it hurts. {Adapted from “Ink” by Coldplay}
My babies, I know what you’re thinking. You and I have much to say. And you’ve been making me crazy trying to understand, but it’s impossible at your age. I know I said I’ll always try … but you’re going to bed alone again tonight … and you lie there in the dark and wonder why.
You’re so afraid your life is over and nothing I can say can change your mind. How can anybody be so selfish and treat you both so cruel? Go on and scream at me and cry! I’ll always hold you in my soul … and I’m never going to leave you all alone … but your mommy doesn’t live here anymore.
Everybody’s got a boat upon the ocean. Not everybody’s sailing out to sea. And is there someone there for me?
I did it for you … because love should teach you joy, and not the imitation that your momma and daddy tried to show you.
I did it for you … and for me … and because I still believe there’s only one thing you can never give up and never compromise on, and that’s the real thing you need in love.
{Adapted from “The Real Thing” by Kenny Loggins}
Love, Mama
Meanwhile …
A line often attributed to the great Sufi poet and mystic Rumi says, “The cure for the pain is in the pain.” I couldn’t agree more. Like all our beautiful and often bittersweet dances with love, that wisdom has transcended space and time. As for me, however, I say that pain and suffering have likewise transcended time and space through the root systems of our family trees. Until that day comes when someone finally says, “No more!” and then decides to calm the fire of that generationally gifted pain within themselves once and for all … such that the toxins that once poisoned its roots stop bleeding out through the hearts of its ancestors … the agony caused by the poison in its roots lives on. Please, God, let it be me! Let me be the one to have absorbed the very last drops of poison that bled out and suffocated the rotting roots of our sick and dying tree so that the branches of my children and theirs will reach up and touch the Sun instead of digging back down into hell. I am humbled and honored to have been chosen for such a sacred calling and for getting to know “the secret.”
So, yes, I did it for me … but I also did it for them … because love really should teach them joy … not the lie that their momma and daddy tried to show them. Pray God that I’m the one who stops this sick and broken cycle once and for all.
