What Really Matters, According to Me

When I was young, I liked to write. When I feel brave enough, I plan to post some of my stuff, from time to time. Here's something from somewhere in the 1980's or early 90's. Her Blanket by srw She sat up all night long sewing her blanket. It was worn, for the years had been cruel. It had been red and purple, blue and gold--all of the colors one might find in a meadow on a sunny day in springtime. But now it was nearly all gray. The excitement of life almost all lived out of it. When long ago she first sat down to piece it together, she was young and extraordinarily fair. Every boy in her small country town hoped that blanket would eventually be his. But she could see nothing in any of them...nothing to inspire the creation of such a magnificent blanket. No, she was crafting it, saving it for Him... the only boy who could draw from it every last drop of love and warmth...the only boy who could wrap himself up in it, head to toe... it was going to be His blanket. And h...

Dearest daughter, Charity, I'm thinking, now, that you are sleeping, about how I missed an important opportunity tonight. I missed your last eleven year old prayer. I was (am still) feeling poorly and didn't even remember to get your last eleven year old hug and kiss :( I did, just now, go into your room and wake you up a little bit to kiss you and hug you. You might not remember, though. I feel so sorry I let that moment pass tonight-- to hear your prayers and to hug and kiss you while you were awake. You are so important to me and I love you so dearly, I feel sad I let a moment get away that can never be recaptured. It's like what we were talking about tonight-- how you never know how much time you have with someone, so you should cherish each moment. Time passes so quickly, and too soon you will be grown and married with your own children... believe it or not :) I want you to know how much I love you, and how grateful I am that Heavenly Father sent you to me to be my dau...

Disclaimer: No offense is intended. Every circumstance in life requires unique measures to meet it's need. The writer, in no way, presumes to know the best course of action for every family situation. Only through careful prayer and consideration should any and all major family decisions be made. Having said that: I was talking with a sweet friend of mine tonight. I was reminded of something I read in a book once that all people need a strong relationship with a woman. For a man, this relationship is fulfilled with his mother, until he marries, then the fulfillment comes through his relationship with his wife... as it should be. A man shall leave his father and his mother and cleave unto his wife, right? Not only does a man need a healthy relationship with a woman, but women, too, need each other. Lucky women find enrichment and contentment in their mother-daughter bond shared with their own mothers. Some women have a best friend. Some are content in the relationships they share wi...

And now my son Philip is a senior in high school. He is an Eagle Scout. He is preparing to serve a two-year mission. Now he stands on the edge, ready to spread his wings and and fly. Not yet. Soon... but not quite yet... not today... And now my sweet little five year old girl, Emily is at the beginning... kindergarten... while Philip is a senior. Strange to think how many years have blown by since I began motherhood. If I stand back and look at my children as a group... it seems there are quite a few. I understand how some may perceive my family that way. I have to make myself step back to see it, though. I don't normally stand back. I am usually up close. That's the way I like it. That's how mothering works best: Up close...Up close, they don't look like many children. Up close, they look like individuals. I know each one personally. I know the kind of cake Daniel Jr. likes for his birthday. I know Philip's favorite ice cream flavor (flavors! haha). I know the teac...

I love Bob Segar... But wait, I haven't mentioned my sister Melinda. She was like a mother to me when I was a child. She had a rough life. Having been abused as a child, she was spiritually scarred and confused, but she loved me and I loved her. Melinda took me to see Bob Segar in concert one summer he came to San Antonio. I remember driving the hour down I 10 in her old black Chevy pick up, with no air conditioning. I didn't care. Very few cars I rode in in those days had AC. It was the time of my life. I knew Melinda loved me. I felt it. No matter how rough she was or unacceptable to proper society, she was acceptable to me. She had done everything bad a person might think of. She was the person who introduced me to pot and wine coolers. She didn't know she was hurting me. She was trying to draw me closer to her. I don't fault her for any of it. Standing with her and singing and crying listening to Bob Segar live was an amazing, unforgettable experience. "Janie w...