To Mom Mom's the world over.

I am trying to get through a hard day. I don't know if it the use of the word Mom Mom or that I have been thinking about my own of late. It always comes a great surprise to me when a Mom Mom dies. It may be that I feel like they should be here with us forever. Giving advice, being outspoken, giving that unconditional love that I so miss, that only a grandparent can give.
I am so happy that my children have a Mom Mom, because I am not sure what it would be like for them without one, "lost." I loved mine dearly. I think the big reason that Eric and I are together today is because the one thing we had in common was that our grandmothers lived with us growing up. We both had many memories of loving Mom Mom's.
So thinking about Brie and her family as they go through much pain. I remembered a poem I had written and rewritten at different times since my grandmother passed, and have decided to share it, and maybe help soften their pain a little.

Healing
You have been dead for almost a year now; the time of death echoes within my soul, the dusty moments before the first rays of sun reached the earth. I have not forgotten, my prayers had finally reached the heavens.
Dressed in pink silk, I go through the emotions. Tear drops fall like a warm spring rain, deep inside until I over flow with pain.
I breathed in fresh smell of the flowers, giving me a chance to breath out the pain.
The sun bright, shined over everyone who attended, and the air itself was warm for March.
The music, the stupid music played until every last rose was placed on the casket.
I thought hopelessly I had lost you forever. I searched myself for every memory I had of you; so it would be constant, as if you never left. The sickness, the sadness erased. Returning to all the places we visited, touched, some how trying to let go and continue on. And finally knowing it would never be the same.
I have thought about you everyday. Naturally some of the words you so often used, I use. I see glimpse of you reflecting back at me in the mirror. My mothers hands, my baby's smell. As you touched each one before they came to me.
Then it occurred to me, finally you are here with me, because in part, you are me.
Sarah Marie McManus Haney "Ada"
March 12 1995

Happy green birthday Kay

Today is St. Patrick's day, it is also Kay-Bee's birthday. My smart, sassy girl turned nine at seven in the morning, and she has been on the hour since. The day she was born I remember watching "Good Morning America," listening to the Irish Tenors. She was born in Florida, like all of my children born in a different State, no two the same. We have moved four times since she was born not to include the year we lived at my parents while Eric was deployed the first time. I am starting to pack everything up to move again. Off to Newport with the "old rich" we should fit in really well there!
Today soccer starts, so no big birthday dinner until the weekend. I am sure it is going to be crazy out there tonight with everyone drinking beer. I am happy the sun is out, and the weather is warm, it is just like Kay out.
Happy St. Patty's day to all that are Irish, and to all who are not.
Cheers big ears!
Tomorrow another day- St. Joseph's day and the proud wearing of the red.
It's a Polish thing.

I was sucked in!

Okay, I was sucked in. Not much is on TV anymore, so what a smart person would do is find something else to do, right. No I saw Tyra and got totally sucked in for two hours. I wasn't alone either, Eric watched on in horror with me. He was actually a lot worse then I was. He kept yelling at the TV, the girls, eat a meal! I don't know why any girl in their right mind would want to model. Oh sure, the money and the glamour, the travel, and the awesome clothes. I watched and watched, the apartment were the girls were staying with about a hundred pictures of Tyra posted all over, and figured out why she was not married and had no kids. There seems to only be room in Tyra's life for Tyra. She knows this and seems pretty up front about it, that's why I have to say I like Tyra, she is entertaining.
I modeled not as a top model. I am only 5'4. My College, Moore College of Art and Design, is were I modeled. I wore five inch heel highs! (What Danielle calls them) I stood for hours while the Fashion Design girls pinned their outfits to me then drew me in it. My favorite was when they dug out the vintage 1920's dresses. They all fit me perfectly, models were build different back then. I loved the material and how the dressed hung so beautifully. It was my highest paying job to date. I made more then a hundred dollars an hour and I would work in three hour spaces. My senior year I was rich! It is my claim to fame. I have done tons of other stuff in my life, better stuff sure, but it is the one thing I have a hard time NOT bragging about!
It is so funny to me how Americans perceive beauty. I learned in an Art History class that some tribes in Africa don't have a word for beauty (as in a persons beauty), and other tribes have many words to describe a persons beauty.
Early on in my College time I made a pact with myself that I would find something beautiful (visually) in every person I drew. It was easy, for me. I really didn't want to fall into the trap I think the Fashion Industry sets out. The mold is set and you are only beautiful if you fit into it.
It was a good habit that is still with me, even though I seldom draw anymore. I like looking at people, I am a visual person, it is great for to see so much of God's beauty everyday.
Last night Tyra was strutting her stuff and my love Nigel photographed the girls with a curling iron as their light source, really crazy. So I got my littlest top model and photographed him with a juice pouch light source. Crazy I know.

My first born turned eleven today.

I just can't believe that Gabby turned eleven today. My tiny breech baby. Were has all the time gone? It is hard to remember when it was just the three of us. Wow, I was still a working woman, working Mom, at first. She was such a sweet baby, learning to walk at eight months. She holds the record in our house. Walking her to Kindergarten, the same one I went to. Eric was deployed and we were staying at my parents. The big tear drops at the door before going in. Precious jewels that will stay in my heart forever. Now a big girl in the fifth grade, such a short journey, I feel like I blinked my eyes and she turned into this young lady of eleven. Today is her day, we will celebrate like the rock star family of seven that we are!