“You’re just like your mother”

That’s what she was told since the day she was born. She was born stuck in a vicious cycle of self hatred and bad influences. Her father was an abuser. He had a tendency to put his hands on women, while her mom had trouble putting the bottle down. Her mother was a drinker, self medicating to deal with abuse and mental illnesses.

But she was just like her mother. She learned to deal with her emotions with Jack and a coke. She continued the cycle of self hatred and bad influences on herself, not knowing any better, having learned it from birth.

Her mother, before the bottle took hold and her depression brought her down, was a happy healthy beautiful young woman, full of love and life. One she would have killed to have had a chance to know. If only that mother was the one she could have turned out to be like. Alas, that’s not how life goes and to this day she says to herself, “You’re just like your mother.” And she was.

Little Reminders

Every day I come across memories., little reminders of her. Everything lately reminds me.. Simple things like songs on the radio, and her ceramic angels that line my walls. Even her shirt that hangs in my closet, the one she wore on frannie’s first easter. I don’t have much left of my mother. I don’t have any pictures of her and I together. I don’t have very many actual memories of her. Most of them I’m not even sure are real memories, but I like to think that they are. I recall a lot of bad times growing up and very few good ones. My mom was hardly perfect, far from it actually, but I loved her regardless. Whether I followed in her footsteps or I paved my own path, I don’t know, but I am also far from perfect. But lately the sun has been peeking out from behind the clouds, and I like to think she’s watching over me. I am not religious and I do not believe in God, but I do find comfort in the sun. The other day the sun shone down on me and every thought, good and bad, had come back to me. She is still with me, I carry her close, as close as I can. I love her and I miss her. But I am thankful for these little reminders. I will never have to worry about forgetting her face, or her voice, or how much she means to me.

Remember Forever

That Christmas was one I will remember forever. Santa didn’t leave anything under my tree. We didn’t sing carols with our loved ones. I didn’t enjoy the wonderful Christmas feast before me, and there was no figgy pudding. I wasn’t alone, but I felt like I was. I felt an overwhelming darkness seeping into my skin. My own hell was warm enough to melt the freshly fallen snow. I tried to be festive. I put on my mask, the one with the plastic smile. I oozed fake joy and happiness, it filled the room. I was burning on the inside, but I stayed cool as ice. My thoughts held my tongue still. 

Not a single damning word left my lips until I felt safe. Until I was somewhere I knew I wouldn’t be judged. With the car pulled over so I could let my words flow free, on the side of the road. I could have been in a room with ten thousand people and I would have been alone. I cried out in pain as my tears broke free. I thanked him for being there, for holding me, for letting my irrationalities take hold of both of us momentarily. He knew me well. If he hadn’t been there, if he hadn’t understood me, I’d have been a broken mess.

Holidays never sat well with me. I never understood them, and they never understood me. I had contemplated many a time about my departure. That Christmas was no different. He knew. I was the type that felt like I had nothing to live for, that wanted to cut out early. He knew that that day was worse than every other. He held me, reassured me it was ok. It turned out I was going to be after all. So he held me and I slept. Soundly, safely.

Christmas was over and I was still there. I had made it through the darkness in my head. Safe and sound. My own Christmas miracle perhaps. My phone rang and I answered it. My world cracked. In the midst of my own depression I forgot about my mother. I thought she was ok, she seemed fine three days before. But I suppose I seemed fine to her as well. The disbelief of the news dropped me to the floor. Drowning in my own tears, I called out for her. She was gone. Those same demons poking fun of me the day before had been poking fun at my mother as well. I should have known. We were more alike than I knew. Similar in feelings, and thoughts. My demons had been beaten, but that day she lost her battle.

She lost and I lost, we all lost to her demons. I couldn’t save her, I couldn’t even save me. It hurt. It still hurts. Pieces of me died with her. They lie beside her, in her box made out of wood. I oft wonder if they have rotted away as she does. I try and hold on to her smile in my heart. Sometimes it’s hard. Other times I think she reminds me. There are many things I have forgotten in my few years that I wish I could have held onto longer. The good memories are scarce. But the memory of that Christmas is strong. It is bittersweet. I won and lost all at once. Part of me died that day, but the rest lives on. She lives on, metaphorically. Forever is such a long time, and I still have so many years left to go, but I will never forget. I will never forget those feelings, the demons, the fight. The win, the loss, the life I still have.

That Christmas was the one I will remember forever. I must never forget…

Dedicated to my mother whose demons proved to be too much for her. She lives in my heart, and I miss her.


I’ll just sleep it off
Is what I always say
But today is like every other
They all are the same
To look beyond
What shows before me
Is more than I can do
To look within
Is something more
For me to do for you
Love thyself before all others
Is something I can’t do
You come first
Always have
In the name of me and you

Let Your Sun Shine Down (for my mother)

And I thought I heard you shouting

from out behind the moon

So I searched for you there to no avail

I must be just imagining things again

I do that from time to time

I will picture your face on a nobody

who is simply passing me by

Sad isn’t it?

Am I that far lost?

You are so far away

but you reside within my heart

I see you in everything

reflections of me, of my past

growing up from the earth

shining down on me from above

You’re there on every sunny day

but I know when the clouds cover the sky

that you’re still there

you’d never go away again would you?

I need you there, here, everywhere

I need you now, like I needed you then

I miss you more than ever

To see you again would be heaven

here on this gray earth

There’s not much I would pray for

but I would do it for you

Just one more day

is more than I can have

But I will settle for the sunshine

that still reminds me of you

And I will bask in it’s warmth

from time to time to keep you close

As close as I can keep you.

The Wiggler

This is entry number two into the Trifecta Writing Challenge.



The way she wiggled when she walked and that dress that could barely be considered a dress was my first clue that she was cheap.  What he saw in her was obvious.  He always liked them sorta sleazy, and this one was no different.  If my mother was still alive he wouldn’t be acting like this, but since she died he’s been as loose with his morals as a twenty year old rubber band.  My mother, our mother was like his best friend, when she died I think my brother was afraid to get close to another woman.  So he kept his distance while having his fun with these girls.  I guess I can’t say I blame him, nobody will ever be able to take her place, she was perfect.

Little Reminders

Yesterday I cut my hair, yes I know big deal.  Well I just used a razor comb and didn’t have any kind of plan set out, I just kind of went with the flow.  Looks pretty decent btw.  Well today I woke up all disheveled and went to brush my hair, glanced in the mirror and was blown away at how my hair looked.  As untidy as it was, the thing that hit me the most was how much it looked just like the haircut my mother had for practically all of my life.  Of course memories of her hit me like a rock to the face.  I miss her, she left too soon.  My mother was only 44 when her depression got to be too much for her to cope with.  She took her own life the day after christmas back in 2008.  She has been gone for many years now, but I think she’s still here with me.  She wasn’t the perfect mother and that’s ok, because I am not either.  I loved her regardless.  Depression can be a really difficult thing to overcome for some people, I have had my own battles with it.  I am happy to say that I have come out on the winning side, unfortunately not everyone does.  As angry as we may be that a loved one makes the decision to take their own life, we need to realize that they have their reasons.  I know and understand why my mother is gone.  We all deal with something painful in our lives.  Coping with some pain can be a bitch, and really takes a toll on a person, which is what happened with my mother.  I hope she is in a better place, wherever that may be, with people that she has loved and lost.  I know that her pain and suffering is over, and that is enough of an answer for me as to why she did it.  She loved me from the minute I was born, and I will love her until my last breath has been expelled, maybe longer, I don’t know.  All I know is she has missed out on so much, and maybe someday, somehow, I will be able to fill her in on it all.


My mother the day my oldest son was born.


I am once again participating in Trifecta’s writing challenge.

This weekend’s challenge is to write a story entitled ‘Lost’ in exactly 33 words. The word ‘lost’ can only appear in the title, not your 33 words.

Hope you enjoy.  🙂

She stands alone, your little girl.  Lets a tear roll down her cheek as she walks away and whispers I love you into the rain.  Stranded, but she’ll find her way to you.

My Kitty Cat

My kitty cat doesn’t like bath time

No soapy water on his fuzzy head

I try to shower him with bubbles

but to that he does protest


He’s so cute, but not so cuddly

Loves scratches under his chin

He always thinks he’s hungry

when his tummy’s far from thin


I can’t help myself but to pet him

because his fur is soft and smooth

Every time I try to sit, he’s already there

lol’ing at my ass as I grab another chair.



This is an accurate interpretation of my cat meatloaf and I.  He’s such a sweetheart.