Say What You Need To Say

Stolen from John Mayer, I am confronted again with the meaning of this song.
Usually saying what you need to say starts with, "thank you."
One of those close friends you have growing up is dealing with her incredible mom struggling with cancer. This family was so kind and accepting, taking me to the lake with them and inviting me to be a part of their family time. They are a treasured gift from my childhood.
Every time I buy an extra toothbrush for my daughter's friends to feel welcome to stay or I pick up "kid" food, I know it is because Carol showed me this example. I loved the way her kids said, "mom." And I remember thinking that when I got older I wanted my children to say it as endearing.
Thank you.
My step dad is also struggling with cancer and trying to make it to his birthday in July, the big sixty. He never had children biologically, so me and my sister began his parenting career.
My thank you for him begins with a phone call I got when my daughter was just six or seven months old. My real dad was facing throat cancer and needed to get a feeding tube to undergo the treatments. He had never really had any kind of surgery so he was nervous just to enter a hospital. I called my mom and Tom and told them what was going on and how scared and helpless I felt. Tom immediately decided he was going to drive Eden, my daughter, and I all the way to Orlando, Florida (twenty-four hour drive) to be there for my dad's surgery. He did.
Ironically enough, Tom merged my two families and gave me one of the best memories of seeing both my families around a dinner table laughing and enjoying each other. What a gift.
Saying what you need to say, usually begins with thank you.

My Friend

I have had the privilege of visiting a lot of elementary schools in the Tulsa area. Each time I am amazed at the experiences that our children have faced and how time can be the only gap.
For instance, I met a sweet, shy, second grade boy. His naturally highlighted hair, blue eyes and smile could seriously melt your heart. Teachers shared the frustrations that were associated with him. None of them he could help, not one. He was a true victim.
Born a meth baby, he was very slow in understanding. Pushed down to the floor by officers in the middle of a bust that took his mom and live in boyfriend to jail, he had some anxiety issues. Raised by a grandparent because his biological dad rejected him, he dealt with abandonment issues.
He looked at the floor when I talked with him until I told him I had met some "shady" characters when I was about his age. His face was priceless, his smile will never be forgotten. For about five minutes he looked at me like I knew him, really knew him, and all because I wasn't afraid to look back at my own rugged past to sit eye-level with a peer. Sure, he was born a few decades after me, but we would have been friends then, so why not now.

Library Resources for the Child of Divorce

As a public school teacher, I saw firsthand the limited resources teachers have for their students who are going through a divorce. After searching many libraries that did not have these books marked and seeing the limited experiences the characters had in the books, I decided to write my own.
Now, almost a decade later, I am founder of a nonprofit with a mission to supply at least 10 books per elementary in the Tulsa area with a section labeled, "divorce/fiction." This will make it easier for the teachers to find books and easier for the students who need them.
Last week I was reminded of the importance of this mission when I heard a close eight year old friend of mine stating he had never read a book with someone like him in it.
Please help our organization donate these books and make a difference in the lives of children who are needing the support and encouragement.
You can donate to this mission on http://www.blendedlove.org, we are a 501c3 so it will be a tax deductible donation. Thank you.

True Story

I watched on the sideline as a child's life unfolded and ended as I viewed.
His story begins as a six or seven year old, hyper and misunderstood as he dealt with the emotions of losing his home and his dad to an affair. Next, came a working mother and having to be added to an after school program where he got molested by another boy in the bathroom. He began to have terrible nightmares, had to sleep with the lights on and his mother became his only source of refuge. Around nine, his mother, stressed to the max, dies of a brain aneurysm. I watched him lay on the floor pretending to be asleep because it was more than he could handle. His world, again, shattered. He now is forced to live with Dad and have another kind of life. New town, new life, new friends...nothing familiar.
I lost touch with him for awhile, but heard he tried to make the most of it.
The end came abruptly as I attended his funeral. His beautiful, blue eyes and stunning appearance, only now in pictures flashing on the screen. His life had become more than he could handle, so he ended it.
His story is another reason I stay in the fight to be the voice of children like him. Children who cannot speak for themselves, but need a voice.

Second Chances

Have you ever been given a second chance? Then you know what comes after a second chance...an immense amount of gratitude.
Second chances can come as a war-torn relationship restored, two paddles circulating electricity through your chest, your home becoming affordable again, a friend forgiving you when you messed up royally, or even the email stuck in your Outlook that would have destroyed your career.
We all get them, we all give them. They are the love that circles the world, the events that bring us to happy tears and cause us to reciprocate.
Second chances are the glue that keep human hearts connected. They are a beautiful gift.
I have been given a lot of second chances in my lifetime...thank you. Tears trickle down my cheek as I see clearly the love that surrounds me.