Tiny Little Hands

Holding On

Holding On (Photo credit: kudaker)

Is there anything in the world that can possibly surpass the feeling of your newborn child grasping your finger for the first time with their tiny, little hand?

How much hope and vision do we  invest in those five little fingers?

These little hands will be the ones we hold when he or she learns to walk.  The same ones that we will grab to  yank him or her away from danger.

We know these little hands will  get burned by touching the stove and maybe even get a slap for sticking them where they don’t belong. They might  get nipped by a puppy for pulling his tail or ear.

These little hands will build towers from blocks and  fantasy worlds with Crayons.

We can dream that one day these hands will hold a surgeon’s scalpel, play the piano, write great works, paint or sculpt.

We’ll see these hands learn to write, draw, create and become more useful over time.

Eventually, we’ll see them grip a steering wheel , and we will  say a silent prayer as we watch them drive away.

But really we just want them to be busy, useful, helpful and happy. Isn’t that the most a parent can hope for?

We are blissful  when this pair of hands is joined with another by love, and beam with pride when they sign papers on a home of their own.

One day, when their finger is grasped by the tiny hand of their own newborn, we will weep with joy, as we watch the circle of life become complete.

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Daily Prompt~Dear Mom

Daily Prompt: Dear Mom

by michelle w. on December 14, 2012

Write a letter to your mom. Tell her something you’ve always wanted to say, but haven’t been able to. 

Dear Mom,

Where do I even start?  One blog post could never be enough to say all the things I’d like to tell you, you hateful bitch, so I’ll just keep it brief by sticking to the highlights.

I know I never came close to your vision of the perfect daughter.  I know I never came close to even an “acceptable” daughter in your eyes.

Even though you’ve been dead for over 5 years, you will be happy to know, that I still struggle on a daily basis with the seeds of self loathing you planted in me, and am also trying to overcome the  other ways you fucked with my head each and every day of my life. It should also give you a chuckle to know that now I see you every time I look in the mirror.  The older I get, the more I look like you.

If it wasn’t for my “mean, cold, icy, blue eyes” as you liked to call them, we could almost be twins.  It makes my stomach lurch when people tell me that I look like you.

Slowly but surely, I am winning this battle with myself that you started.  Here’s a few examples you may find surprising~

~Remember when you gave your lovely clothes to The Goodwill, because you said I was “too fat” to wear any of them?  Well, I finally overcame the demon of compulsive eating.  I lost all that weight-most of it after your death, and I have kept most of it off too.  I swore I would never use booze as my crutch like you did, so I’m happy to report that I don’t need food as a crutch anymore either.

~Those kids of mine?  The ones you called brats, monsters and hellions?  They are all fine young men now, no thanks to you.  I managed to raise all three without ever, EVER making them feel worthless.

~But the best part is this.  Remember that wonderful boy I loved so very much in college?  The one you said would never amount to anything? The one you said that if I continued to date him you would stop paying for my college tuiton?  (And you weren’t bluffing, you really pulled the plug on my college education) The one that you and other forces helped to  tear away from me  so long ago?

Well guess what?  That boy-almost 30 years later is my husband now.  I know now why you hated him so much.  He loves and accepts me for exactly who and what I am.  He doesn’t try to make me be something I’m not.  He thinks I’m fabulous just the way I am. You never wanted that for me.  How could you possibly let me continue in the frivolous direction I was going?

I needed to be molded into the perfect marriagable candidate.  A “catch” for any eligible doctor, lawyer or up and comer so I could effortlessly float my way into the country club lifestyle you imagined for me.

Sorry Mommy Dearest.  That just isn’t me.  It never was, and it never will be.

But you know what else?  My darling new husband  told me that if you were still alive, this rekindled love affair would never have happened.

Your poison tentacles were  so far reaching that you could still blight anything good and wonderful in my life because having to deal with you would have outweighed the happiness he may have had with me.  You must be so proud of that.

I hope that they have the internet in the depths of hell, so that you can read this.  If it’s really hell, you’ll have to read it every day for eternity.  If that were the case, I’d be the one laughing.

Living the dream in spite of your best efforts,


Friday Seems So Far Away……

Here’s my first (hopefully not my last) entry for Mr. Hotspur’s Romantic Monday from my shiny new un-cheeky blog, My Not So Cheeky Thoughts.

Because even a dork has a serious and thoughtful side.  Thanks so much for stopping by!


Friday seems so far away

You’ve scarce been gone an hour

You’ll be back in just a few days,

But I feel the sad and lonely creeping in already

Why does our home seem just a house

When you aren’t there with me?

The first time we’ve been apart since we married

And I pray it’s the last for a very long time

I guess I just need you more than I should

You dote on me so well

Make me feel protected

And happy and safe

Things I didn’t have before you came back

To spend the rest of your days at my side

I’ll try to be tough,

And act my age while you’re gone

But you know it won’t be easy

This world has a way of beating me down

When it knows you aren’t here to shield me from it

I’ll try to stay busy

And get a few things done I’ve been putting off

I will be okay, but not happy, until your return

So do your work, my love

And make me proud

Just like you always do

Your new wife will survive

I’ll see you on Friday when you return

Then the house will be “home” again

Hello friends, new and old~

Thanks for following the link from thecheekydiva.com to get here, if that’s how you found me.

It has come to my attention that my more serious, thoughtful and wordy side needs a home.

So, I now have a spin-off!

My Not So Cheeky Thoughts will be a place for me to say all the sappy, tearful, warm fuzzy and poetical things that are creeping in.

Believe it or not, I think there will be lot of poetry here.  How did that happen?  I never liked poetry before I started a blog.  But now I read quite a bit of it, and have discovered a new appreciation for it.  Thanks so much to all the poets that I read. You have helped me find something in myself that I didn’t know was there.

I’m so glad you chose to join me here, and once again thank you to my regular readers for your continued support.

-PS-Anyone who can help me remove that stupid tag line up there, please step up with your thoughts.  Thank you.