For Here or To Go?

Growing up in Southern California, I have become an expert at Mexican food. Tacos, Enchiladas, Tostadas, Burritos, Tamales...you name it...I LOVE IT!

I probably eat Mexican food more than any other cuisine. That's a bit of a shame when you consider the fact that I am a Black woman and know more about Mexican cuisine than I do about that of my own culture.

When it comes to "Southern food" I guess you could say I do all right. My kids LOVE my fried chicken, which I make about twice a year. My collard greens are pretty tasty. My mac and cheese is AMAZING, but I only make it on Thanksgiving...and thanks to "Joe", I recently learned how to make "melt in your mouth oxtails." He LOVES oxtails! The first time I made them for him, they ended up being more of a stew. That wasn't quite what I was going for, nor what he was used to.

Oh, but when my friend's Mom offered to teach me how to make them "the right way"...he devoured them, and rightfully so. Those things were GOOD!!! I've made them a few times now and they consistently come out DELICIOUS.

Now if I had to make authentic African cuisine, I would simply have to hang my head in shame. I know NOTHING about African cuisine...absolutely NOTHING. Perhaps I should start dining at some of the local African eateries. I'm sure there are some in Little Ethiopia which would be a great start, however, I'd ultimately like to try a variety of African cuisine. I'd better get on that.

So, as I was saying...I'm pretty much an expert when it comes to Mexican food.

Well a couple weeks ago my youngest daughter introduced me to pupusas (shown in the pic). I've lived in my neighborhood for at least seven years and have driven by the local Pupuseria a number of times. Never thought to go in because I didn't know what a pupusa was, nor was I interested.

When my daughter told me about them I decided to swing by and give one a try. Can I say...YUM!

I bought two "queso y frijol" and they were delicious. I'm still not 100% sure about what to do with the tomato sauce that comes on the side. To me, it doesn't have any flavor, but I pour it over the pupusas anyway.

Then there's the curtido (fermented cabbage). Reminds me of kimchi, but not as spicy and it has more of a "slaw" consistency. It comes with the pupusas, and it's good too.

So the past couple times I've gone, I've placed my order "to go." My pupusas come wrapped in foil and the curtido is in a baggie.

Today, I decided to dine in. Oh how I wish that I hadn't.

I ordered my pupusas and went to have a seat. I noticed on many of the tables, the curtido was already out in plastic containers. I thought that was a bit odd.

I purposefully sat at a table that did not have any container of cabbage, with the hopes that MY curtido would come with the pupusas. Well...so much for my plan. No sooner than I sit down, the waitress grabs the container from the table behind me and places it on MY table. It's like a "help yourself" kinda situation. Now you KNOW...the germophobe in me was about to have a coronary. Was I really expected to eat the curtido after God-knows-who had already handled it?!? Ugh!!!

My pupusas arrived and they looked sooo lonely. I can hardly believe what I did next...YES...I stuck the tongs inside the container and scooped out some cabbage from the bottom...hoping that that would be the safest. It tasted the same as when I get it in the baggie, but my germophobic mind was all over the place. Kinda hampered my dining experience a bit.

Will today's experience stop me from going back? Nope.

I will now simply place my orders to go so that I can have the curtido from the kitchen versus the dining tables. That's an easy enough fix...I think.

Oh, and for those wondering, "What the heck is a pupusa?", here's Wikipedia's definition:
"A pupusa (Spanish pronunciation: [puˈpusa], from Pipil pupusaw) is a traditional Salvadoran dish made of a thick, handmade corn tortilla (made using masa de maíz, a cornmeal dough used in Mesoamerican cuisine) that is usually filled with a blend of the following:

cheese (queso, usually a soft cheese called quesillo found throughout Central America)
cooked and seasoned pork meat ground to a paste consistency (called chicharrón, not to be confused with fried pork rind, which is also known as chicharrón in some other countries)
refried beans (frijoles refritos), or queso con loroco (loroco is a vine flower bud from Central America)."

Now...Let the DIALOGUE begin: What's YOUR favorite ethnic cuisine...and have you ever had a pupusa?

Talk to me!

Til next time...

If It Ain't Broke...

I've worked at my current job for almost nine months now.

During this time I've gotten pretty familiar with my office building. One thing that I am quite familiar with is the door that leads to the hallway, which leads to the bathroom and kitchen.

I've opened and closed this door MANY times. No problem.

Last Monday I went to open it and almost needed help. I gave it a strong tug, and eventually it opened. It had never been that difficult to open before. I thought that someone may need to come take a look at it.

After struggling with it a few more times, I realized that the new need to pull on the door was a result of it being "fixed." Apparently, the door had been "broken" all this time.

Yes, I knew that we had to be careful when closing it because it could potentially SLAM, but other than that, the door worked fine. What I now know is that the door was missing a spring that would allow it to automatically close after opening, eliminating the potential to SLAM. So technically, the new "harder to open" door, is actually as it should have been all along.

Of course, that made me think about human behavior and how so many of us have lived lives of dysfunction, that when "functional" presents itself, we often don't know how to accept it.

Perhaps as a child, one grew up in a home where there was always arguing and bickering. When that child gets older, being in a environment where the situation is calm may seem foreign and difficult to accept.

Maybe as a child, one grew up always having to struggle and fend for themselves. When that child gets older, being in an environment where people genuinely offer to help...that child may become suspicious of such kindness because it's foreign and unfamiliar.

There may be a man or woman who has been in so many relationships that have ended in abuse, hurt, disrespect, shame, etc...that when someone new comes along and genuinely wants to LOVE that individual in a manner that healthy couples do...the previously hurt man or woman may opt out of the healthy new relationship because they've not learned how to accept such kindness.

So you see...much like the door that I thought worked fine all along, until it was "fixed," many of us won't be aware of the brokenness in our lives until someone or something comes along to repair it. Kinda interesting when you really think about it.

Now...Let the Dialogue begin: Is there anything in your life that could potentially be broken and you just haven't realized it yet. Think about it. Is EVERYTHING functioning as it should be?

Talk to me!

Til next time...

Stick It To Me!

A few months ago I was suffering from excruciating back pain. Nothing I did seemed to bring any relief. I took over the counter pain meds like they were Skittles. Nada.

It finally got so bad I decided that I needed to see a medical professional.

Before calling my primary care physician to make an appointment, I decided to first give something new a try. I made an appointment to have acupuncture. Most folks avoid acupuncture because of the needles. After having three babies, and donating blood as many times as I have...needles don't bother me a bit. And...acupuncture needles are SUPER TINY, so those REALLY don't bother me.

I had my first session back in October and felt relief...almost instantly. The acupuncturist suggested that I come back the following week for another treatment. I did just that and again, felt relief. The pain was GONE...until this week.

Yes, months later the pain returned in full effect.

Yesterday as I was getting ready for work, it hurt so badly, I could hardly bend over to tie my shoes. And when I got to work, climbing the 22 steps to get to my desk was almost unbearable. My back was ON FIRE. Sitting for hours only made it worse.

I finally couldn't take the pain anymore and call the acupuncturist. Asked what time slots he had available and after work I headed right over.

As he stuck the needles in me, he commented on how tight my back was. Yep, it was tight alright. And to my surprise, I was very "jumpy." On the previous visits he stuck in pin after pin and I never moved. Yesterday, I flinched with every one. Not because I could feel them, but because my body was startled every time he touched me...almost as though my body has forgotten HOW to be touched. Now that's a dag-gon shame!

Anyhoo...he finally got them all in, turned on the electro-machine, applied some heat, and left me in the room to listen to ocean waves as I dozed off. He popped in once to make sure I was ok (I was until he woke me up), then popped out again for about ten more minutes. He came back in, removed the pins, rubbed some lotion on my back that felt like warm Bengay and I was set. Walked out of that place without a single ache, and when I woke up this morning, I popped right outta bed, got dressed, had no problems with my shoes, nor the stairs at work.

I'm sure that at some point I will need to get to the cause of my back pain. Not sure if I should do that NOW while the pain is GONE, or if I should wait until it comes back.

One thing I do know is that ACUPUNCTURE IS AMAZING and if you have any aches or pains, I would highly recommend giving it a try.

Let the DIALOGUE begin: I may have asked this before, but I'll ask again...Have YOU ever tried acupuncture? If so, how did it work out for you?

Talk to me!

Til next time...

Winner Winner Chicken Dinner!!!

So a couple days ago I wrote about how I pick up discarded Lotto Scratchers when I go on my neighborhood walks. I pick them up to be entered into the "2nd chance" drawing. One of them will win one day...I just know it!

So the other day I found the one that's pictured here. It was torn into three pieces. I still picked it up!

Brought it home and went to enter the code. On my first attempt I received an error message that advised me to check the numbers or...the card may be a winner.

I checked the numbers.

Entered the code again.

Got the same error message.

How odd. I'd never had that happen before.

So I took a closer look at the card and realized that whoever its original owner was didn't completely scratch off all the numbers before they decided that the card was a "loser" and decided to toss it.

Well I took a closer look and discovered that it was in fact a WINNER.

Just like that, I was five dollars richer than I had been 10 seconds before. Cool!

Now I wasn't sure if the store would redeem my winning ticket since it wasn't in tact, but figured I didn't have anything to lose by trying.

So I get to the store, hand in my ticket, and the clerk said, "It won't go through." I asked him to try. He gave me the "side-eye" and took it to the machine. Two seconds later he says, "You won ten dollars." WHAT?!?

Ten dollars?!? I thought the ticket was only a five dollar winner. SWEEET!!!

At that moment, I was reassured that I haven't been crazy by picking up these icky tickets from sidewalks, curbs and parking lots. And once again I was reminded that "one man's trash is another man's treasure." The same can be said for relationships. A man may leave a woman because she doesn't meet his standards, and another man will come along and see that she's everything he's ever wanted. Funny how life works.

Now Let the DIALOGUE begin: For the Lotto players out there...do you prefer Scratchers, or the daily games?

Talk to me!

Til next time...

Coffee, Tea, and...

So it's been a little over a month since my trip to New Orleans. Man, I can hardly wait to go back!

I still have LOTS to write about my time there and tonight I'm going to take a little time to do just that.

***

Saturday night I hung out at my favorite Starbucks in L.A.

It's the one where I met "Joe" thirteen years ago, and every now and then I go because it simply brings back so many special memories. I also love the vibe. Good music playing and intellectual Black folks fill up the place. There aren't too many Starbucks that I've been to that have those elements. For this reason, I drive 14 miles just to be in that environment. Love it!

Although I'm not much of a coffee drinker (except for one cup a day at work), I do drink a lot of tea. That's what I typically get at Starbucks.

While I was in New Orleans, I got very acquainted with the nearby Starbucks on Canal and Royal. Not so much because of the coffee or tea, but because of the clean public restroom and outlets for me to charge my phone.

One day while charging my phone and sipping on the boxed apple juice that I'd purchased, I sat back and enjoyed the music being piped through the speakers. It didn't take long for me to realize that this particular Starbucks had vibe of its own, not exactly like my favorite one here in L.A., but one that made me wanna hang out for a bit.

So as I sat there chillin', I heard the live version of Erykah Badu's "Tyrone" come on. Now I've heard the song a number of times, so I am very aware of the fact that at the very beginning she comes right out and says, "I'm gettin' tired of your shyt..."

The song is blaring, and she's about to start singing. I'm wondering if they're gonna bleep the word out. Well, as I continued to listen I quickly learned that the song would be played IN ITS ENTIRETY...profanity and all. I wasn't bothered by it, and simply thought, "Well alrighty then. That's the way things are done here."

I sat and enjoyed the song...listened to it come to an end, and do you know...they played that song AGAIN!!! Back to back!

At that point I was convinced...this wasn't Kansas, and this IS how things are done in New Orleans. Cool!

Suffice it to say...I now have a second favorite Starbucks.

Now, Let the DIALOGUE begin: Are you a regular Starbucks goer? If so, do you have a favorite. If so, which one?

Talk to me!

Til next time...

Here's the song. If profanity offends you, I thank you for reading today's post and you may want to stop here.

Sunday Visits

***This one's kinda long. You've been warned.*** :-)

I have been a member of my current church for the past 23 years.

I don't remember the exact day that I first visited, but I do remember (like it was yesterday) the events that led me to my current church.

I had already been a member of a different church, Revival Time Church of God in Christ. One Sunday morning, as usual, I got my daughter Lauren, and myself ready, hopped in the car and headed to service.

Lauren may have been 2 years old at the time.

We arrived at the church, I unfastened her from her car seat and we headed inside.

Before we got to the door, I had a prompting in my spirit that said, "Get back in the car. You won't be worshipping here today."

That was odd, and I didn't understand what was going on. But the command was so clear, I chose to be obedient.

So I secured Lauren back in her seat, got in, started the car and asked, "Lord, where am I supposed to go?"

The answer, "Drive, and I'll tell you when to stop."

So I drove down the street for about ten minutes, not knowing WHERE I was going. Then, "Here. This is where you will worship today."

I was too far down the street to even see the name of the church I was going into. Parking went down the entire block. I just knew that at the end of the block there was a church. I got Lauren out, either carried her on my hip or held her tiny little hand (it was so long ago I really can't remember) and we headed inside to what I discovered was Doublerock Missionary Baptist Church.

We returned Sunday after Sunday, and all these years later, we are still members. Although the church has since moved, and now has new name, it is still our "church home."

It's a great church, lead by God first and foremost, whose message is delivered through our fantastic Teaching-Pastor. I have learned (and continue to learn) so much under this man's teaching and preaching. An example of that is in the way that I now attend service for different reasons than I did in the beginning.

I cringe to even say the following words, but they are the truth, and thankfully I've grown since this time, so...I'll go ahead and say it.

In the beginning of my spiritual walk, I went to church for the MUSIC. Our church had one of the BEST choirs in the city. My my my!!! They were "off da chain" as was the phrase back then.

Although I'd stay for the message, it was always the MUSIC that got my attention. I made sure to be on time for church so that I wouldn't miss any part of "Praise and Worship."

After all that great singing, the message just seemed dry and without any "umph."

Over the years, my spiritual "likes" changed. I didn't care nearly as much about the singing, and had begun to time my church arrival until AFTER "Praise and Worship" was over. I would arrive just before the message was to be delivered, because all I cared about at that time, was the Word.

Awful...I know.

Oh, but God!

I'm sure that there were many-a-Sunday when God would just watch me and shake His head. Thankfully though, like clay on the potter's wheel...He kept shaping and re-shaping me until I began to look and behave the way that He intended with regard to worship.

One day I finally realized that Praise, Worship and the Word ALL go together. They are all a vital part of the service. I needed to arrive at church ON TIME for ALL of it. Now, I do.

After having said all that, we move to "present day" and what I have tagged as my "Season of Visitation." The interesting thing is that I don't know how long this "season" is going to last. Only God knows.

As I said earlier, I have been a member of my current church for 23 years. And I am under the direction of EXCELLENT Bible-Based preaching and teaching. Even with all of that though, for the past two years (maybe longer), I have had a prompting in my spirit to VISIT other churches. I was reluctant to do so because my Pastor has often cautioned against "eating from too many spiritual tables" as one may end up with "spiritual diarrhea." For that reason, I stayed put.

But there is SOMETHING about the Holy Spirit. When He wants you to do something, He will continue to poke and prod until you finally OBEY and follow His direction.

So after two-plus years of hemming and hawing, I finally decided to be obedient and have declared 2016 as my "Season of VISITATION". I have NO IDEA what God has in mind for me in all of this, I just know that it's what He's been wanting me to do, and as I do so, I believe that He will eventually reveal to me what the purpose is in all of it.

I haven't visited too many churches yet, but the three that I have gone to have provided me with wonderful experiences.

When I visit, I go with these things in mind:

Is the presence of God in this place?
I know that may sound like a difficult question to answer, but all I can say is...I've been in services where I knew without a doubt that the presence of God was there, and I've been in others where God was no where to be found, and wouldn't come near the place with a ten foot poll. You can tell...really, you can.

Is this a Bible-believing church, and is the Bible where the message is coming from?
I understand that a lot of preachers are great story-tellers, and they will often tell a story that will lead into the biblical message. I get that, and think it's great. What raises my antennae are preachers who ONLY tell stories and NEVER open the Word of God. For me, that's a "red flag."

How welcomed do the members make me feel?
At my church, I know how important it is to our Pastor that we make visitors feel welcomed, and after the "meet and greet" portion of our service, he actually asks our visitors if they had been made to feel welcomed. He also follows with, "If anyone made you feel unwelcomed, I wanna know." And he means it!

I understand that it may be a bit easier to be greeted personally in a smaller church -- I have a few large churches on my list of churches to visit -- so I'm curious to see how that will go when I visit them.

So far this year I've visited the following:

City of Refuge in Gardena, CA
Carrollton Avenue Baptist Church in New Orleans, LA
and
Rhema Word Bible Church in Long Beach, CA

I have had great experiences at ALL THREE, and for different reasons.

Although this year was not my first time attending City of Refuge -- I've attended their New Year's Eve Watchnight services in the past, but added them to my list because of the option to attend evening service at 6:00 pm. Some Sundays I wanna sleep in, or do other things during the day, yet still hear a word from God. City of Refuge allows me to do just that.
It is a bible-believing church, and although they don't have a special part of the service where they acknowledge visitors (unless I've missed it along the way), I feel welcomed when I'm there. Actually, a more accurate term would be that I "feel at home" when I'm there.
I've only had one experience that I wasn't too keen about which was during "Praise and Worship" at one of the services I attended during their "Revival Week." The Praise Team leader kept referring to the Holy Spirit as "it" versus "He." Throughout the ENTIRE song, she kept saying "it." That bothered me because I know that the Holy Spirit is He, not it. As a "Praise and Worship" leader, I would've thought that she would've known that too. But hey...we're all at different places in our spiritual maturity, and I pray that one day she will come to that knowledge.

When I visited New Orleans last month I knew that attending worship service on Sunday was a MUST. Being in the city for the first time, I had NO IDEA where to go. I googled churches, even found a few within walking distance but was still unsure about where God wanted me. So I prayed on it. He finally directed me -- to a church that I had to take a taxi to -- Carrollton Avenue Baptist Church.

From the moment I walked in I was IMMEDIATELY greeted and welcomed. I took a seat and shortly thereafter we moved into "Praise and Worship." Many of the songs were familiar and some were new. I loved that.

After "Praise and Worship" it was time for the Word. Pastor Webber reminded me a lot of my own pastor in his preaching style. His message wasn't filled with a bunch of "Whoopin' and Hollerin'." Instead, I could tell that he had STUDIED in order to deliver a message that God's flock could learn and grown from.

Overall, it was a wonderful worship experience, and when I go back to New Orleans (yes...I'm going back!) I will be sure to worship there again.

Now we fast forward to the past two Sundays.

In case you've been wondering how I decide where to go -- my method is quite scientific. Okay, not really. My method is the old "pull a name out of a bowl." That's what's pictured here.

Over the past few months I've asked friends where they worship, and have added their churches to my bowl. Other times I'll see a Facebook "church check-in", and I'll add that church to my list. So the list is fluid and continues to grow.

Three Sundays ago, I pulled a name out of the bowl and was on my way. Before heading to the new church though, I headed to my own to take care of a few things. Well...the quick stop at my church resulted in me staying for the entire service. That was a-ok with me. God's plans ALWAYS go before my own. For whatever reason, God said, "Not today" that day.

Last week I decided to try again. I had a church in mind, but couldn't get ready in time to make their 9:00 service, which is the only service they have. So I went with my second draw, Rhema Word Bible Church and was able to attend their 11:00 service. What a GREAT decision! Last Sunday was Valentine's Day and we began service by singing "Love Songs" to God. It was BEAUTIFUL.

After our heartfelt serenades to God, Pastor Johnson delivered a message on "God's Love Language" which made us reflect on how we show our love to God and more importantly, how God WANTS us to show our love for Him. It's all in His word.

I enjoyed the message so much last week, along with the welcoming spirit of the congregation, that I went back THIS morning and attended the 8:00 am service. I was hoping to see a friend there who attends that church, but I don't think she was able to make it as I didn't see. The church is small enough that you can easily see who's in attendance. Overall, RWBC is a wonderful place to worship. Once I've gotten through my list of churches to visit, I may very well drop in for another service one day.

In case anyone's wondering...NO, I am NOT leaving my current church. At least that's not MY purpose for this "Season of Visitation." Although, as I said before, this is not about MY will, this is about God's will. There's a reason why He kept prompting me to do this, and I won't know what His purpose is until He reveals it to me.

Yes, I am still a faithful member of my current church, I contribute financially even when I am not in attendance, and I still serve in ministry. So this is in no way, my way of looking for another church home. I am simply moving as the Spirit leads.

Whew...that was a lot! Going forward, I will simply write about each church individually as I visit. One thing's for sure...I am excited about this journey!

Now, Let the DIALOGUE begin: Where do YOU attend church? Tell me, and you never know when I may show up. :-)

Talk to me!

Til next time...

Anywhere but Here

Today I was on the verge of a meltdown. I just wanted to get in my car and drive far away, leaving everything behind to start life anew. I NEED A FRESH START!

Three things kept me from leaving -- my kiddos. If it weren't for them, I'd be OUT. They'd be the only ones who'd miss me. They are the only ones I matter to. So THEY were my only reasons for staying.

I'm tired. Tired of being hurt by people who "say" they love me, when their actions prove the very opposite. So very tired. Emotionally and Mentally EXHAUSTED.

Instead of getting in my car and driving off, I reached out to a friend...although "friend" is an understatement. She's so much more than that. I called, and she let me pour my heart out (or at least as much of it as I could during my short 45 minute lunch break). With her, I knew that my words would be HEARD and received WITHOUT JUDGEMENT.

Before I got to say anything, she assured me that to HER, I matter. And if I were to "go away," SHE would be affected. She let me know that to HER, I have VALUE.

I almost cried after hearing those words, but I composed myself enough to tell her how I've been feeling.

I told her about "Joe" and how much his absence has negatively affected me in numerous ways.

I told her about my former "best friend" of 38 years who chose "friendship" with someone I used to date and LOVE, over her "friendship" with me.

I told her about my dad and how he's been hospitalized since November. NOVEMBER!

I could have told her so much more...but there's only so much one can say in 45 minutes.

She said many things to me that made complete sense and helped me to better understand this "lost" space that I'm in right now, but there was one very profound thing that she said which really hit home.

She told me that any ONE of those things would be a lot for an individual to handle. To handle all three at once, is OVERWHELMING for anybody. Then she said, "And with all that, you haven't even had a chance to mourn the loss of your mother." BINGO!!! At that moment, it was as if a veil had been removed and I could finally see.

She was ABSOLUTELY RIGHT!

On September 17th, 2014, my Mom was hospitalized. Eight days later she had a major amputation, was unconscious for days after that. Regained consciousness, had to learn how to do even the simplest things like swallow, was transferred to another hospital, and finally to a rehabilitation center where she was under hospice care until she finally took her last breath on November 9th, 2014.

In the middle of all this, on October 27th 2014, I started a new job. Four days into my new job I had to take an extended lunch to attend the "family meeting" at the hospital to discuss the next steps in my Mom's care. Basically, we were made aware of the fact that she wouldn't be with us much longer. After that meeting, I got in my car, and cried all the way back to my new job. Ten days later, my Mom's earthly life ended, late that Sunday night. I took the following day off -- that was a Monday, and was back at work on Tuesday. I worked everyday until the Friday before her Memorial service on November 22nd. No where in between did I have TIME to grieve the loss of my mother. My days were filled with learning my new job from 8-5, and planning my Mom's service after 5:00. Her service was on a Saturday and I was back at work on Monday. There was no "Bereavement Leave" for me.

Since my Mom's passing, my Dad's health has declined considerably. So in making sure that he is okay, again, there's been no time to really process the loss of my Mom. Then "Joe" left, and shortly thereafter,"former best friend" kicked me to the curb. It's just been blow after blow to the point that I don't feel I have any air left.

So I guess my wanting to just hop in the car and drive away, is a way of getting the TIME I need to process all of these things. Getting to a place where I can just SHUT DOWN for a week, or month, or longer...and get my bearings. At this point, all I know is that it's just too much.

Somethin's gotta give, because I am about to break.

I probably need to see a therapist, just so that I can get all of this off my chest on a regular basis. I know that I have friends who would be willing to listen, but after a while my issues will get old, and all of a sudden my calls will stop being answered, or my texts ignored. I wouldn't want to risk valuable friendships over my "issues."

I used to have an excellent therapist. She was a fellow believer in Christ which gave me a lot of comfort. I knew that her advice would'nt be some "New Age" mumbo jumbo, but that it would always come from a place of biblical foundations. At the end of our sessions, she always prayed for me. Then her daughter was due to have twins soon and off my therapist went, up north, to be closer to the family. I couldn't blame her, but I sure hated to see her go. Finding a new therapist who "gets me" the way that she did won't be easy, but perhaps I should begin a new search.

So there you have it. I am broken by all of the hurt I've had to endure over these past 17 months. All in the form of ABSENCE, one way or another. My Mom's is an EARTHLY absence. "Joe's" is an EMOTIONAL absence. The "former friend" is a SISTERLY absence in a way, because we were THAT CLOSE...or so I thought. Although my Dad is present, his FORMER SELF is absent.

As for me...I seem to lose a bit of myself with each day. Losing who I used to be -- not really sure about who I'm becoming.

I imagine that I'm a lot stronger that I've ever given myself credit for, because most folks would have crumbled by now. Although I haven't completely crumbled, I am broken...but as the picture says, "Broken crayons still color."

Let the DIALOGUE begin: When was the last time YOU had a hug? I'm talking a real, genuine, "everything's gonna be alright, and even if it isn't I'm still gonna be right here" kinda hug.


Talk to me...and if you see me, give me a hug please.

Til next time...