In my young adult years, I had a hard time being seen for who I was.
I was always identified by where I grew up, whose sister I was or who I hung out with. Although I loved those aspects of myself, I was more.
As years went on, I had to make choices for my happiness. Choices often opposite of what I thought was expected of me. That meant becoming vulnerable to change and criticism.
That shift came with a yearning to experience more of what life had to offer. I began to look outside the walls put in place by others and myself to live a life God wanted me to live.
I began to capture these experiences in my writing. This became a way for me to purge, process and heal.
This blog is that journey and it continues. A journey full of love, tears, pride and lots of laughs.
Thanks for joining me.
A Dream Realized in a Future Generation?
When I walked into the Women’s Sewing Center in Kamina, Democratic Republic of the Congo, the smell of the fabric, the smiles on the beautiful brown faces and black sewing machines told me my mother was present.
This center trains young women to become entrepreneurs as tailors. It is one of the ministries of the United Methodist Church.
Returning A Changed Person
A few weekends ago, I returned to my home church to participate in a pop-up shop. The event was a vendor show celebrating Mother’s Day hosted by the church’s United Women in Faith unit. It has been a tradition for this event to happen once or twice a year.
I was invited to have a space to display and sell my aprons. I was happy to do so. For months I had been sewing many aprons with the fabric I had on hand. So, I didn’t have much to do to get ready, but to show up in Cincinnati.
I Can’t Stop Thinking of You
During Christmastime, I am into all things Christmas; decorations, music, Christmas movies – old and new, and all the rich delicious food and drink that come with it.
This year, memories of my mom invade my thoughts every day as many of my fondest memories of her surround Christmas and New Year’s Day. Lately, every smell, song, craft, or holiday special reminds me of my mom.
No, I Don't Want Your Jewelry
When my father passed away, I remember loading my Ford Edge with suits, hats, coats, and sweaters to donate to a clothing ministry in Columbus. These were only a fraction of the items from his closet.
Considering all the material items left being by our loved ones when they pass, I ask a question and confirm a fact, “How do we collect so much stuff to be left behind? And, “All that stuff means nothing compared to the chance to talk with that person one more time.”
I Love Fall
If a season could be a gateway drug, fall would be mine. The main event is Christmas. I love the smells, sounds and emotions that come with that holiday. But Christmas time seems so short.
Fall gives me time to savor many things I love.
Apron Delight
Who among us has had a relationship with their mother that is unique? Good or bad? Strained or easy? Deep or shallow? Many stories and movies seek to explain this relationship that many times is hard to articulate and understand.