Home – Page 3 – 50 Shades of Gray Hair

‘Tis the Season

And so it begins

The Season

Visitors

Week Long

Visitors

Mother-In-Law plus 1

Visitors

Oh Goody

32 years as a Daughter-In-Law

10 years of hoping

(I’d disappear?)

Almost…(Once)

But not quite

Another 21 of tolerating me

1 year of resignation

What next?

Will I finally pass muster?

This week may tell

I leave you with this…

Just kidding

In all fairness, it’s more like this…

Oh alright, it’s not THAT bad

They are just house guests after all

Right?

What’s the worst that could happen?

See ya next week

Maybe

ps) Kat…hope you don’t mind my stealing two of your gifs

pss) B…if you still read this blog, laugh now.

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

Now, I hope you all know me enough by now to know that I am picking fun here. My Mother-In-Law is a strong, intelligent, sensitive woman and we get along famously. It just took us some time to find our own relationship, as it did my husband and his Mother-In-Law. There is love and there is respect and that is all there needs to be.

It’s important to let the seeds of this relationship grow naturally, organically, outside that of the child/spouse connection.

There is nothing in the rules of marriage handbook (and I’m sure there is one out there, somewhere) that says you have to love or even be friends with your spouse’s mother.

It helps, but it’s also okay if not.

(I don’t know why, but Fathers-In-Law relationships do NOT have the same dynamic)

Love doesn’t happen just because she birthed your spouse nor for the fact that you happened to choose her child as a life mate.

That just opens the door. To be welcomed in and invited to take up space in their hearts, you must be worthy in your own right.

If there’s any hope for a relationship, there has to be respect. On both sides. And, because you’ve both earned it.

Respect is one of those things we each feel we deserve.

Just because.

Not so.

As with any relationship in life, whether personal or professional, we can respect the title/position, but the person in it, must earn it.

Also, as we cannot choose our blood relations, we do our best to love them because of our common link, but we often find ourselves in the position of not respecting them for various reasons.

Love but don’t respect – common in relationships to those we are born into.

But for those to whom we have no connection other than by proxy via our spouse, if we do not/cannot develop a familial love, we can at the least hope to develop a relationship based on mutual respect.

If not (especially if your spouse is close to your In-Law) then personally, I’d say your marriage has a boot on its neck.

Especially evident when you and your spouse have kids of your own…

Becoming a Mother-In-Law can be daunting if the relationship with the new son/daughter lacks respect as well as the love connection.

Could you imagine becoming a grandparent to the little seed of your precious apple in a relationship fraught with tension and stress because either you or your In-Law or your spouse were always on the defensive?

Nahhhh…that’s for the birds and a bit like cutting off your limb to spite your trunk, if you know what I mean.

So, this Mother’s Day, it is with high hopes that all the wives and husbands who share porch space with me here, boast a happy, healthy, loving relationship with your respective Mothers-In-Law. If not, I sincerely hope you share one of mutual respect.

If not yet, work on it. It’ll make all the difference in the world…to ALL of you.

If you’re a newbie, or a work in progress, keep at it.

The door opened the day you got married…it’s up to you to be welcomed inside.

Conversely…to all the Mothers-In-Law out there still struggling with the addition to the family…

It is with respect I say this…

“They are married.

You didn’t lose one, you gained one.

You did your job, now enjoy the fruits of your labor while they make fruits of their own.

Resist when you’re not asked.

Be there when you are.

And if you can’t…try harder.

Should you choose the right road, and it IS a choice, you’ll end up smack-dab in the middle of the intersection of Love Lane and Respect Avenue.

HAPPY♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥MOTHER’S♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥DAY

Mom and Bertha

I love you

Fair Weather Friends

I have a new guy in my life.

Yup.

His name is Lenny and he visits me every day the sun shines.

He likes to laze around, sunning himself on the porch steps while I putter in my pots.

Pots, people…flower pots.

Yeah, he’s not much of a talker, but that’s fine. If I want noise, I’ll listen to the voices in my head.

He’s a bit shy of strangers. To be honest, he can be down right rude when my neighbors pop by to ooh and ahh over this spring’s bounty.

He turns his back and wanders off without so much as a ‘howdy do or by your leave’.

I really should talk to him about that; he’s ruining my street cred. I’ve heard the whispers…

‘Why does Rhonda spend so much time with Lenny the Lug, he’s so rude!”

See what I mean? Yeah, it’s time for a good chin wag with my fair weather friend.

The sun’s in and out today, so I’ll have to keep an eye out in case he shows up.

I’m running out of refreshment ideas though. (I wonder if that’s what keeps him coming back? The num nums?)

Well, I suppose I can mosey on down to my mailbox, which seems to be THE spot where the local buggaboos hang out.

I’ll just have to find a way to entice that crowd onto my porch steps; introduce them to Len so he can have them ~~over~~ for dinner.

So, let me introduce you…

Friends…Lenny Lenny…Friends

Leapin’ Lizards…isn’t he cute?

One stop on the memory train

I read a post today that transported me

That happens quite often doesn’t it?

To all of us?

We’ll hear a tune drifting out the open windows of a passing car and no longer are we standing on a hot sidewalk in line at the ATM, but magically taken to an ‘out of school for the summer’ beach trip with our best girlfriends, laughing and flirting while sand filled our shorts and Sun-In made us all one shade of blonde or another.

Or we’ll catch a smell in the air that immediately takes us back. Maybe to a warm and tiny kitchen in the back of a house shared with the post office; where a grandmother is frying donuts in a big cast iron pot and where too, the back porch isn’t just a place to take off your muddy boots before tramping into Gram’s small but tidy nook…but a place where Gramp sits grinding fresh horseradish, tears rolling down his stubbled cheeks as easily as the sweat pours off his shiny bald knob.

And there are times, we’ll read something, like Tink’s post today, that’s like peeking into that too-long forgotten toy box in your mind’s attic…the one where you keep all your found treasures and best memories of childhood…waiting for a day like today.

Sometimes, these trips down memory lane can cover us in a cloak of sorrow or pain, bringing us back to a time and place we’d rather not go back to, for one reason or another.

Other times, happily I think most times, the places we go in our mind are…

…the places we want to be and in the company of people we want to be with.

This is where I went today, when the toy box opened…with thoughts of long candy counters and a shop owner with the patience God gives older folk…

It sits there still, where it always did.

Across the road from my where my grandparent’s lived, and up two from where I did.

One of two one-room shops in our town of less than…

where one holds the memories of a barrels of chocolate drops, returning bottles for a penny, wood smoke, and men laughing.

while the other is made of children’s dares and double dares to see who’ll go buy the ice cream from the ‘mean old lady’ behind the counter.

And this is who joined me in today’s trip…Gramp in his engineer’s cap and Gram looking the same as everyday I can remember.

And though this is where they are now…

Their permanent home is here…always here…

I thank Tink and her Crazy Train for the ride today. It was welcome and reminded me that I have enough in my heart and my mind to get me through whatever life wants to throw my way.

And maybe someday, when he’s older or I’m gone, this one will hear or see or smell something, some small thing, that will take him back to a time when he knew he was cherished.

it’s not easy

IT’S NOT EASY IS IT?

trying to find a title for a discussion of this magnitude is not easy.

trying to find a way to speak openly and frankly about this subject is not easy.

trying to come to grips with teen and young adult suicide is not easy.

trying to understand the minds of those that bully, in real space or cyber space, is not easy.

trying to find a solution is not easy.

seeing signs or hearing that your child may be a bully is not easy.

taking responsibility is not easy.

OR IS IT?

justifying their actions is easy.

saying that’s just how kids are is easy.

victim blaming is easy.

changing the channel or turning the page is easy.

giving a silent prayer of thanks that it’s not your child so not your problem is easy.

judging others is easy.

but…

facing facts is not.

easy.

WHERE ARE WE GOING WRONG?

Mattie Yates:

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2607248/Im-doing-world-favor-Heartbreaking-farewell-video-girl-16-posted-YouTube-committing-suicide.html

Amanda Todd:

Ryan Halligan:

http://www.ryanpatrickhalligan.org/index.htm

Megan Meier:

http://www.meganmeierfoundation.org/megans-story.html

Phoebe Prince:

http://www.truecrimereport.com/2010/01/phoebe_prince_15_commits_suici.php

Jessica Logan:

Tyler Clementi:

http://www.theguardian.com/world/2010/sep/30/tyler-clementi-gay-student-suicide

Shannon Gallagher: (this one is especially hard to fathom…the teen sister of a cyber bullied suicide victim)

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/12/13/shannon-gallagher-sister-cyberbullying-suicide-erin-gallagher_n_2296488.html

Rehtaeh Parsons:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/04/09/rehtaeh-parsons-girl-dies-suicide-rape-canada_n_3045033.html

Audrey Pott:

http://www.cbsnews.com/news/reports-3-teens-admit-assaulting-norcal-girl-who-later-killed-herself/

this list is far from complete, but I find I can look at no more.

those families left behind have not been idle.

they’ve formed foundations, initiated awareness campaigns, and again, the list goes on and on.

as do the suicides.

additionally, we now have, literally at our fingertips, the following, just to name a few of the resources available, as a direct result of this problem:

no bullying websites – one example

NoBullying.com features many pages dedicated to parents, teens, teachers, health professionals as well as posts related to cyber safety and the latest news about law making concerning curbing bullying worldwide as well as inspirational bullying poems and famous bullying quotes

suicide prevention blogs – one example

http://www.activeminds.org/our-programming/awareness-campaigns/suicide-prevention-month/suicide-prevention-month-blog

national suicide hotlines – one example

http://www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org/

cyber bullying studies and statistics one example

http://cyberbullying.ua.edu/index.php/casestudies/

wherein they recite:

The National Youth Violence Prevention Resource Center estimates that nearly 30 percent of American youth are either a bully or a target of bullying

According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC), suicide is the third leading cause of death among young people with approximately 4,400 deaths every year

(and those stats are just here, but this is not an American problem. this is a world problem.)

PLUS:

child protection software
web filtering software
social media safety programs
free teen safety e-books

so…what are we missing?

what are we doing wrong?

or maybe the better question is…

what are we NOT doing right?

I am no judge

I am no jury

I am no winner of any super parent of the year award

however…I am a survivor.

and living proof that

‘it’s a phase’

belongs at the top of “The Worst Things A Parent Can Assume” list

STOP! DON’T ASSUME! ASK! LISTEN! PAY ATTENTION!

no one knows your child better than you do. and no one does or will ever, care more.

and then there is “The Worst Things A Parent Can Say” list
(and I’m as guilty as the next guy for saying most of these things because I heard those things):

“that’s just how kids are”
“you’ll grow out of it”
“you’ll get over it, you’ll see”
“go find something to do”
“it’s not that important”
“ignore it, they’ll get bored”
“you don’t want to be like everyone else do you?”
“you’re too young to understand”
“sticks and stones…”

i am not being a Monday morning quarterback, at least, I hope you don’t see it that way.

i am not blaming all parents for all things as I certainly couldn’t look myself in the mirror if I took the blame for everything my children did growing up.

what I am trying to do, is shed some light on a few of THE most common, albeit loving, words of advice and/or wisdom we impart to our kids in an attempt to make them ‘feel better’ about themselves.

it doesn’t work. I know, that’s harsh.

but it doesn’t work.

our children know we love them. they know we’ll say anything to make it better (in our own minds).

but we need to stop putting acne cream or liquid foundation on what WE PERCIEVE to be our kids’ source of their low self-image, and I say that because, if they saw themselves as WE do, this would not be the fucking horrific problem it is.

they don’t see themselves through OUR eyes.

they see themselves through the eyes of their peers.

just as the majority of all of us did.

no…this is not a new war.

it’s an old war on a different battleground.

an anonymous one.

one that affords bullies (who otherwise might not ever have dreamed of pulling the trigger) a haven of relative safety with which to thrust their swords of misguided judgment and fire those malice filled bullets.

all in an attempt to…what?

you know the answer.

to hide their own insecurities, to assuage their own feelings of inadequacy, to belie the perception that they are lacking, to feel big, and most importantly…to mask their own pain. to make themselves feel better than…by making someone else feel worse than.

this is not a new concept.

and it’s certainly not only employed by teenage bullies.

knowing this…is it a stretch to think that the corporate bullies, the ball field bullies, the ‘my kid is better than your kid’ bullies, were bullied as youths?

nope.

on the flip side…

if not bullied…were bullies as children, left to their own devices because ‘that’s just kids being kids”?

sadly, there is no easy solution.

it’s not easy, after all.

but…there are things we can do, as parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, brothers, sisters, friends…

stop making assumptions
stop making excuses
stop enabling our kids by ‘trying to be friends’

be a parent now and a friend later.
if you feel the no…say the no.
if ‘but johnny has one’ or ‘suzie gets to’ arguments sway you…get to know johnny and suzie a little better so you can perhaps point out to your kids the things they have that johnny and suzie do not.
allow your children to suffer the consequence of their choices but always offer an alternative to better ones. don’t take away the responsibility of their actions because you feel sorry for them.
if they say they hate you now…they’ll love you later, especially when they have their own kids.

no amount of money you spend ‘keeping up with…’ will ever make them feel pretty or popular on the outside if they don’t feel it on the inside. give them reasons to feel it on the inside. teach them compassion and empathy by living it. teach them to see beyond by doing it.

temper the time spent praising their feats by counting their blessings, whatever they might be.

teach them that each of us are blessed in our own way, some on the outside, some on the inside, but it’s all worthy of love and respect.

help them celebrate our differences by being well-rounded, informed, engaged, and interested parents who take the time to get to know their school, their teachers, their friends, and their friends parents.

yes, this is a different age. parents today have very little free time.
but…that was our choice yes?
say what you will…but every generation’s evolution is a direct result of that generation’s choices.
we cannot use ‘I have no time’ as an excuse to not raise our own kids.
we cannot blame society or teachers for ‘not giving’ our children the values we should be giving them at home.

our children need us.
they will never admit to this, but they do.
not just the first 10 years or the next…
it is a lifetime job.
and the job of a lifetime.

let’s help give our kids that lifetime, that looooong lifetime.

please

i dedicate this post to the fire starter, you know who you are, and you know what you mean to me…and i thank you for knowing i had something to say, no matter how small

My Shit Bucket’s Empty

Today’s post…despite the title…is about inspiration. I know right? The title is kind of misleading but…

A friend told me today that she missed my ‘more-often’ posts.

Yeah, well, me too!

I’d been so busy scooping poop these last few months, I hadn’t realized they only thing inspiring me to write was shit!

So, her comment was timely in that I’d just read two blog posts talking about seeing the big picture, keeping your eyes on the prize, concentrating on the good, listening to your heart’s softly whispered ‘it’s all going to be ok’ when you’re mired in the daily shit that could otherwise keep your psyche locked in the outhouse.

To count your blessings instead of lamenting your woes and understand that life is bigger than the last busted bone or paddleless trek up shitcreek. All true, though as we all know, it’s not easy.

More than possible, but not easy.

Now, I’m not one to call myself particularly optimistic (I have my reasons), I do engage in this battle daily…trying to see the bright side, seeking out the silver lining or at least trying to find the humor in all things, counting my blessings, stomping on the sneaky devil ankle-biters that are always trying to knock me on my ass and piss me off. And while the war is ongoing…the battles are getting easier. My reaction muscles are learning new tricks (and I’ve taken to wearing armored high-top boots!)

But to get back to it…when Jules made that comment today, it did get me wondering why, with my new-found pseudo-optimistic outlook, I haven’t been inspired to post something light or happy or springy.

That’s easy…and sad…

It’s pretty obvious I’d gotten into a routine of slinging the contents of those overfloweth buckets of poo I’d been collecting during those last few shit storms. Namely…

“Areyajokin, Bulleffincrap, and Canyashootmenow”

For now though, it looks like storm season is over and it’s time to dump the shit where it’ll do some good. Nothing so wrong in my new garden that a few buckets of good old-fashioned manure won’t fix.

So, time to get to emptying them and refilling them with something that smells a bit better, tastes divine, and looks a lot like happiness.

Never mind that it’s sleeting and snowing…my backyard’s full of flying flirts, the bulbs are busting and bearing up, the seedlings are starving, and I’ve got just the shit for them.

**Welcome Spring…it’s time for you to eat!**

And for you…at the top of my Things I’m Thankful For list…

**I’m Happy because…**
**This is NOT my derrière**
**Though after the last few months…it could have been**

But seriously…

Here’s to looking up, looking within, and looking out…to find your inspiration

Today

Last night saw the end of the longest running nightmare of our married life.
The move to Virginia
(a.k.a. As the Shade Spins)
(aa.k.a. Two Thugs and a Truck)
(aaa.k.a. The Snap Heard ‘Round the Block)
(aaaa.k.a. Row, Row, Row, Your Washing Machine)

Moving on (yikes, that phrase alone gives me heartburn)…

At 7:00pm we waved goodbye, with heartfelt thanks, to the crew that installed our new floors. Adios and gracias if you know what I mean.

By 9:30pm we’d placed the last piece of furniture, made-up the last bed, plugged-in and set the alarm clock, and hopped (the mattress sits about boob high on me. HE hops…I use a stool) into our bed with sighs (grunts) of exhausted relief.

To say the day went off without a hitch would be completely out of character for me, so in keeping with keeping it real…I suppose I must share that too…

I’m usually the one in charge in all things ‘house’. But due to my slight limitation in mobility, I reluctantly gave up control and took my place as the minion this one time, physically anyway. (For some reason my mouth just can’t give up being the boss!)

Anyway…I was placed inside the frame of the bed, to help place the box spring. But, as my hands were catching the box, my eyes spied the very obvious fact that the bed was NOT in the right place. Why weight it down with box and mattress when we could easily move it first?

So naturally, I dropped the box spring where I stood (I may have spouted something here, but I take the 5th) and turned to exit the interior of the bed frame so I could move the bed to where it belonged.

In doing so, I didn’t quite clear the hurdle that was the side rail…tripped…and landed flat on my face (and boobs and belly and though I didn’t realize it at the time, my left wrist.)

(Did you know that OOF is a real sound? IT IS!)

Anyway, I gave a shout out to the Big Guy upstairs, thanking him for yet another reminder of my bad temper, cradled my wrist, and left the other big guy to finish. Turns out, the tendons on top of my left hand took the brunt, are strained, and yell at me when ever I lift my hand…but other than that, the other bruises will heal.

Considering my history, I’d say this was one of my better days. 🙂

I climbed the mountain that is my bed, and sat up for a while, thinking about the last 10 weeks {‘how the hell did we get through this without killing each other?’ was my predominant thought} realizing that it was going to be the first night since moving in, that I didn’t dread the following morning.

The nightmare was over.

That light at the end of the tunnel that everyone talks about is there.

I can see it.

Today is the first day for the rest of our lives.

Today is a day for emptying boxes, hanging pictures, filling bookcases, marinating steak to put on the grill…

Today is a day for doing NONE of those things because my hand is screaming.

Today is a day for waiting for tomorrow to try again.

Today is a day for blaming no one but myself for things going wrong.

Today is a day for eating humble pie with my grilled steak.

Today is also a day for giving thanks that we’ve made it through the nightmare still optimistic about tomorrow, regardless of what happened 10 weeks or 10 minutes ago.

Today…Is a Good Day!

It is also a day for meeting our new neighbors…they just moved in…next door…a cute couple…and she, like me, seems to be in charge of the house.

I wish them well.

I offer NO advice yet will keep my garden open to them.

Welcome new neighbors…when you get settled, stop by and we’ll sit and chew the suet and reminisce about Moving Day!

Things are looking up!

First day out walking the neighborhood. Kept it short and sweet, didn’t want to overdo

But…

Things

Are

Looking

Up!

And…

So am I

But don’t miss what’s down below…shadows of Spring from the snow!

Free Birds

Today was the first day since December 10th, that I’ve been free to walk out of my house on two feet, sans crutches, sans male nurse disguised as husband, and just dooooooooooooo!

Whatever I wanted.

Whatever struck my fancy.

Just Do It!

So…what did I do?

I grabbed my camera and took her out on a date.

In Mini, who I’ve not driven since then either.

We’ve shared not one single moment of exploration time since moving to Virginia…and I must admit, that’s been worse than the broken leg!

Trouble is…the eastern seaboard is either getting hammered or getting ready to be hammered my Winter Storm PAX.

I am in the latter group…getting prepared.

Normally this would not bother me in the least. I mean, I’m a Yankee for God’s sake! I have ice in my veins.

(No..not THAT kind of ice…the pretty kind 🙂 )

But one must remember that I now live in the land of “OMG OMG OMG…THEY ARE CALLING FOR SNOW” people and that made for a poor ‘Mini, take me away’ day.

It was more a “Mini, get me the hell home because the people on the roads (and I swear…they are ALL on the roads) are LUNATICS and it hasn’t even started yet!”

I made it as far as Wal-Mart, a mere 6 miles from here, because I had some photos I wanted printed. I am supposed to return, but frankly, I don’t think it would be worth it. After all, I’m not collecting hazard pay and having just tasted freedom for the first time in more than two months…NO accidents for me, thank you very much!

So…I returned good ol’ friend Mini to the garage, took CC with me to the backyard, and having left the world outside my little acre to go crazy nuts…I spent a few moments with my VISITOR.

Besides…the skies are dreary, the colors dull, the vibrancy of spring not yet peaking around the corner…I think I found the best the winter has to offer today, right here in my back yard.

Tomorrow is another day.

If there’s snow on the ground, all the better for me and CC.

If not, then we’ll see what we will see when we see it.

In the meantime, my VISITOR and I shall be, for today, FREE BIRDS!

Life is good!

Just ask Lynyrd

Honey, I hate to bug you…

I’ve given him space; allowed for hours of

R(elaxing) and R(eclining)

So, I thought I’d ask an

itsy bitsy favor…

(Me having a broken leg and all)

**“Honey…would you mind putting up the flag pole for me?”**

He seemed

willing enough…

He did a good job

without complaint…

Put it right where I

wanted it…

He then returned to

R(ecline) & R(elax)…

Having done

such a fine job…

He hadn’t appeared

at all perturbed

or overly taxed

after finishing this

itsy bitsy favor

for his dear ol’ incapacitated Ma

But…apparently we are in a

‘one and done’ situation here…

**EeeK…all I did was walk into the room!**

For those of you thinking the little darlins’

EVER change?

Think again!

Gotta love’em

🙂

One Day

By dinner time tomorrow, our soggy, box-full, furniture-empty, house will feel like home despite it all.

He leaves the deep freeze on the shores of the Arctic Ocean tonight and will arrive on the unusually frozen southern shores of the Atlantic tomorrow. Knowing he had not planned on bringing his arctic gear, an emergency phone call took care of that. True winter in the lower 48 awaits his arrival. He doesn’t mind though, winter is kind of his thing…

We’ve not seen him for over a year, Christmas 2012 to be exact. So much has happened in his life and ours since then, I’m not sure his two weeks will be enough time to sort it all out. And sort it out we must, for as much excitement as there is in his return, it wears the shroud of sadness that only a broken heart wears.

You see, he fell in love with a dog, who owned the girl, that stole our son’s heart…

He chose the ring for the knot that means a great deal to her and announced to the world “SHE SAID YES!” on July 20th…

She chose the dress in the color that says “I am not afraid as I face the world with the man I love”

They chose the date, Friday, February 13, 2015, to tell the world “We have no fear of your superstitions, we’ll face it together”

They spent every spare moment they had together, traveling the land they both love so much…

One of the hardest things to witness is the breaking of your child’s heart. Whether 2 or 25, the heart cares not the why or the how, only that it’s a pain unlike any other.

The life plan has changed. The love won, now lost. “She said yes!” echoes hollowly in the darkness following “I’ve changed my mind, I don’t want to be with anyone”

As his mother, I grieve for his tender heart and shattered dreams.

As his mother I silently thank the girl for knowing this truth now and being brave enough to say so.

As his mother, I weep for and with him, longing to make it better, but knowing I can offer nothing but a safe place for him to cry.

So, it’s time for this boy, this man, our Matthew, to come home to slide into the open arms of his Dad and me; the only place he can let it all go.

The place where the man can again be the boy who needs what only his family can give him…a safe place to grieve, a hearth to warm the bone deep chill of lost love, and the touch of those that know the truest nature of him…love. He shines with it and has since he was born.

He will find The One.

Someday.

One who will see him for who he is, and love him completely for it.

We know this.

He will too.

One Day.

Until then, we’ll do what we have always done…love him, guide him beyond his feeling foolish for having loved “too much”. With the gentlest of reminders that no love is ever foolish or ever wasted or ever “too much”. That to deny the best part of himself for fear of being hurt this way again, would be to deny the very air he breathes.

He won’t. He can’t. It’s not in him.

As his mother, this I know.

Welcome Home Matthew…where the heart is