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Tag archive for: mothers

I Love You, Granny

Posted in thatchik30

My maternal grandmother was a special kind of grandmother. She was the one who always had butterscotch hard candies or peppermint disks in her purse for when she became a little antsy during those long church services. She always kept a candy dish full of those candies as well as another for chocolate-covered peanuts on her sofa table. I loved those visits to her house in the country after church services in that small town or on holidays or other special occasions. She made the best Sunday dinners; the best beef roasts with the perfect, thick brown gravy and the…

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Mother Grace

Posted in FreedomChik18

I stumbled into it; Motherhood. I didn’t seek it out. When it happened to me, I could only crawl through it, raising both myself and my sons at the same time. 20s feel similar to adolescence, except you are the parent. Couple that with raising another human being – Doable, but so damn difficult. All my sons’ lives thus far, I’ve never felt completely capable or worthy of being their Mom. If the overworked, squeaky wheels inside every mothers head were visible, I’m sure we all feel that way. Often. Yet, one of the greatest truths I’ve learned as a Mom is, we are all just…

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Happy Holidays!

Posted in thatchik30

Happy Holidays I went back home a month ago and during a nightly “check-in” call to my husband and kids, he mentioned asking my mom to come stay with us over Christmas. I immediately brushed it off and forgot because I assumed that she would decline the offer. A year ago my brother had offered to pay her way to fly out with him and his wife and daughter but my mom turned him down. She said something about “air travel being too crazy” or “not feeling up to it”. Some excuse, any excuse would do. Anyway, upon my return…

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Come As You Are

Posted in FreedomChik18

We both had swollen eyes still glistening in grief as I walked into the coffee shop that morning. My feet felt as heavy as my heart. She moved her arms around my waist with an effort that seemed to consume what little energy she had left, planted her head against my chest, and whimpered out, “My Mom is gone.” My heart arrested. Each sob against my chest felt like defibrillator pads being charged with a higher frequency of electricity, delivering shocks against my heart’s wall to convert it from this dying, quivering rhythm, into a normal one. I stood, waiting…

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