The True Meaning of Christmas

-
This holiday season has been filled with so much heartache. Being good all year, hoping and wishing to get what you've always wanted yet experiencing the disappointment on Christmas day. The ironic thing is that when the dust finally settled late Christmas Day, I realized that I was surrounded with exactly what I had asked for- people who love me.

Love shouldn't be forced. You shouldn't have to plead or beg for it. You shouldn't have to withstand torment in order to experience the joy. Love is there when you need it. It is more important than friends, than image, and money. It is the reason you make decisions. It is the reason you get up in the morning. It is truthful and pure.

Mom- You are the rock that I will never measure up to. You provide and hold this family together. You are strong yet so fragile. Everyday I strive to be more like you to show Brooklynn what it means to be a strong and independent woman.

Dad- You have powers unparallelled. You believe in me when no one else does. You pick me up when I have fallen. You are offer me your strength when I lack my own. Because of you, my word is my bond.

Kenny- You have always been my mentor and voice of reason. You have allowed me to develop into my own being without judgement. You are grounded and stable- two qualities every man should possess.

Pamela- Patience is a virtue you exude. How else could you put up with this family and its quirkiness for so long? You are a good addition to our family. You add sanity.

Brookie Bear- You saved me from me. You gave me direction and focus. You are passionate, loving, and sensitive. You make me a better person.

Gavin- You are love. Everything you do is pure and honest. You are exactly what we all wish we could be.


This Christmas, I asked Santa for love. He definitely came through.

Comments

Anonymous said…
Great pictures, dm*.
December 28, 2009 at 6:47 AM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Lake Elizabeth Sundays

-
Image
Hanging out at the Lake is where we usually spend our Sundays.   MY ideal Sunday is jogging around the 2.5 mile lake while Brooklynn keeps pace for me on her scooter. BROOKLYNN's ideal Sunday is playing at the playground the entire time.  We usually end up compromising.
Read more

My Bird Has Left the Nest

-
 Last week I flew over 2,000 miles to drop my teen off at college, then hopped on my return flight alone. It was almost unbearable. Now, I consider myself a pretty tough cookie. I am not someone who lives in fantasy land. I like realism and appreciate brutal honesty. In fact, my nickname amongst my girlfriends is Asshole because I tell people like it is. I know that my daughter will be back home for summer and holidays. I know that this would not be our last good memory together. Yet even still, I lost my cool during this drop off process. Several times during the trip, my teen had tears fall. Each time, I felt nothing but parental wisdom flow through me to comfort her. She was going to be fine. Enjoy water polo and have fun with her teammates. She'd be home in just over a few months. THIS WAS NO BIG DEAL. So, when the time came to give her the final hug before I headed out of her dorm, she cried and I didn't. I just hugged her the tightest I have ever hugged anyone in my entir...
Read more

The Music in Me

-
Image
Today Brooklynn started guitar lessons in hopes that by the time she is in high school, she is a decent guitarist. Nana was nice enough to give Brooklynn an old guitar she had laying around. Since Brookie is a lefty, we had to restring the guitar for a left-handed player. The pick guard now lays on the wrong side, but it doesn't seem to bother her. She has names this guitar "Dawn" for it's "colors of the sunrise". From here on out, I promise to encourage her, expose her, and support her guitar endeavors. I have signed up to take guitar lessons with her for encouragement, have started taking her to concerts with live musicians, and will always take the time to practice with her. I even listen to countless hours of Miley Cyrus music and refrain from slitting my wrists while doing so. Oh, the sacrifices we make for our kids. Good luck, Bstarr!
Read more